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#although how accurate it is to call me a girl is up for debate
pocket-size-cthulhu · 2 years
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Girls don't want to read about girls falling in love with princes, girls want to read about girls falling in love with hot, mysterious bodyguards
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flowwochair · 9 months
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Doves and their Peculiar Taste (Aimevout) - Prologue
After much debate (and because apparently I have to wait to make an AO3 account????) I decided to post the prologue to the fic I have been working on here, depending on how long AO3 takes to release me from purgatory I might just go ahead and post the chapters I have so far on here too. NOTE: The fanfic starts with Aimée's engagement to Lannes and is meant to end with her wedding to Davout following her as she becomes disillusioned with Lannes and falls in love with Davout, who she meets by chance at an event hosted by her brother, the prologue is set before this. Although I tried to stick as much as possible to historical accuracy here there will most likely be bits that are not as accurate. I attempted to be as accurate as I could be to Aimée's initial engagement to Lannes and how things were going back then but I don't have a lot of specific info on that and the specific circumstances she was in and this fic is largely my own creative take on how the engagement was dissolved and how Davout and Aimée met. In reality, I don't even know if Davout and Aimée had met at all prior to their wedding, let alone have a soapy lovey dovey will they won't they slowburn romance develop between them. Likewise, I did my own take in characterization to some extent, I wrote the characters involved the way I see them/think of them, but some of them will change throughout the fic (notably Lannes, Davout, and Aimée). I apologize for any historical inaccuracies, like I said this is my own creative take about a very specific situation which I don't have a lot of insight on :((( . TLDR: there will probably be some historical inaccuracies here and there PLEASE dont be mean to me about it or I'm gonna cry and show up in your living room and throw up on your carpet, thank you. Anyways, enjoy.
Prologue – Scene 1
“An illegitimate child with another man?”
The words slapped Lannes back into consciousness as they left Bonaparte’s mouth.
“I find I should be concerned myself, my situation is not much better than yours, but, how do you feel?”
Lannes realized he had been venting to Napoleon without a second thought, and only then did the reality hit him. What now? Well, Napoleon was the best person to ask wasn’t he? “What now?” Lannes looked up at Bonaparte with a puzzled look, seeming almost as if half awake. “I guess I need a new wife”. Bonaparte could see his sorrow being converted into anger, typical for Lannes given his nature, “And have you thought of someone?” he asked, to which he earned  a quick reply from Lannes’s increasing frustration “Fuck no.”
Bonaparte reclined on his chair, staring down at Lannes who sat on a camp bed, his back hunched, his eyes on the floor. “Lannes,” as Bonaparte called, he looked up, eyebrows still furrowed, “You’ve become a close friend to me… and what do we want in life if not to see our friends cared for?”. Lannes’s expression changed to one of confusion, “What? Do you have someone in mind?”, he didn’t like it when Napoleon was vague with him. “I have already sought connections for my sisters, they are cared for, however, they themselves have connections which aren’t.”
“Well honestly I’m not sure if I wanna think about women at all right now.” Lannes hastily got up as he spoke, grabbing his hat in the process and turning towards the tent’s opening, until Napoleon stood up and grabbed him by the arm, “God, listen to me won’t you” with a movement of his chin he gestured towards he chair he previously occupied, “Sit.”
“Fine”, Lannes sat “Hurry up.” “My sister, Pauline, is married to Charles Leclerc, you know him do you not?” “Yeah whatever I think so”, Lannes gestured vaguely. “Leclerc has unmarried sisters, one in particular who is at proper age, Louise-Aimée-Julie Leclerc.” “I never met this girl.” “I have heard and read snippets of her character here and there, she seems like a docile girl, well behaved, just a bit shy but perfect for marriage, especially as a rebound after something like this. Not to mention, by marrying her, you would be brought into my family through her connection to my sister. You would be cared for in being provided with a good loving wife, a wealthy familial connection to the Leclercs, and a connection to me.” He spoke more as if he were pitching a business deal than as if he were pitching a marriage.
Lannes still looked at him, but this time with some interest. It would seem the ‘sales’ pitch may have been successful at hooking him in. Access to wealth… a connection to Napoleon… a docile wife who would not give him a bastard child. “Huh… What does she look like?”.
“Brunette, brown eyes, small stature, she is quite petite.” Bonaparte replied, still in the tone of someone selling furniture. “Well you know how I am-“ “I do and I am hoping you would not take such a style with her.” Bonaparte replied sternly, “Her brother is quite protective of her Lannes, you should treat her as a crystal if anything.” “Sure… well, fine, let’s give it a shot.” Lannes said, standing up once again, this time with a much more interested expression. “Great.” Napoleon stood up as well, extending his hand towards Lannes, “I will propose the idea to Leclerc tomorrow, he has been looking for a suitor to his sister, surely he will be pleased.” Lannes shook his hand “Surely”, he said with a smirk.
Lannes, having put his hat back on, then left Napoleon’s tent, as Napoleon sought an aide to write a letter to Leclerc on his behalf.
Prologue – Scene 2 Egypt had been hell for everyone involved, by then the campaign was falling apart and if anyone knew this for certain it was its leader, Napoleon Bonaparte, his return to France was already in plans. One of the many men condemned to stay in the hellish uncaring desert was one Louis Nicolas Davout. In a situation not too dissimilar from that of Lannes, having recently divorced his wife for an incident of a similar nature, he was down on his luck, one of the few things which at the very least kept him alive was his friendship to one Louis Desaix. “Davout?”, Desaix whispered, entering Davout’s messy tent, a stained jacket sat in rough shape on a chair near his bed, where Davout himself was sitting, staring at his glasses, the left lens badly shattered.
“Still awake hm?” Desaix sat on the chair facing him, his eyes attempting to meet Davout’s downward gaze. “Mhm.” He didn’t speak much, he never did, even to his closest friends, but still Desaix could read him so well, and he knew Davout was tired, he had been for a while. Desaix gently took the pair of glasses from Davout’s hands, which made Davout look up at him, “I’ll get take these with me, and send you a brand new pair from France! Whaddya think?” Desaix smiled at him. Although his expression did not change, Desaix could tell Davout’s mood had lightened slightly at the interaction. “Have you thought about what I said to you?”, Desaix kept his eyes fixed on Davout, concentrating in reading his expression. Davout looked down again, making Desaix concerned. “I don’t see the point. I tried once, it did not go well, why should I try again? I doubt it would result in success, besides I don’t have much to offer, it would simply be a pointless transaction on both ends.” Davout answered in a matter-of-fact manner, he looked up at Desaix once more with a straight expression. “You just haven’t met the right girl yet, you’ll see”, Desaix had been insisting a similar plea to Davout for long now, it wasn’t the first time Davout had heard him say this. “I am to return soon… I could… I could sneak you, yes, in the ship back to France, and-“ “General Bonaparte would never-“ “I don’t care what he has to say! I’ll sneak you in, I’ll take you to France, maybe you’ll meet someone there! Maybe at least you’ll change your mind, I could-“ “Desaix.” At this point, Davout was looking at him with concern. Desaix realized he was failing at hiding his distress. “I’m sorry.” He realized he had lifted off the chair towards Davout when he was speaking, he sat back down. “I worry about leaving you alone, I really do.” He placed his elbows on his knees and rested his chin on his knuckles. There was silence between them for a little while.
“I’ll be fine,” Davout spoke, as he did Desaix looked up at him, his smile slowly reappearing. “I suppose as long as I am alive I am fine”, Davout shrugged. “Surely”, Desaix chuckled. Hesitantly, he stood up. “Keep me informed Davout, we should meet as soon as you yourself return to France, which I am hoping will be soon.” “I’ll try to remember to write to you, but you should write to me when you get there.” Davout responded, Desaix laughed at his response much to Davout’s confusion. “I will, have a good night Davout, I hope you’ll be at the port before I leave.” “I am hoping you do not intend to-“ “I won’t sneak you into the ship I swear! I just want to say my goodbyes that’s all” Desaix spoke honestly. “I’ll be there.” In a rare sight, Davout smiled at Desaix.  “See you.” Desaix gave Davout a pat on the shoulder before leaving his tent, still holding Davout’s glasses in his left hand. Not long after, Davout blew the only lit candle inside the tent, and tried his best to fall asleep.
Surely I’ll be fine.
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canon-fcdder · 2 years
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{¤} "Hey, uh...Tang?"
Pigsy's voice is laced with nervousness, something he never expected to feel around Tang. It feels like he's about to put so much on the line by doing this, but Pigsy also knows he'll beat himself up if he doesn't do this before it's too late.
Besides, it's not like Tang is going to throw away decades worth of friendship because of this one little secret. Hopefully.
"Would you be uncomfortable around me if I told you I was...y'know...into guys?" {¤}
-  ✩   「 @tuesdayscanons 」   ✩  
「 ☆ 」   Tang immediately knows something was wrong when he hears the uncharacteristic strain in Pigsy’s voice. Quickly setting aside his bowl, he turns to face the other man. Hands clasped on his lap, expression already furrows with concern, no matter how much he tries to hide it. Pigsy is a rather prideful man— not that Tang can judge on that account, having his fair share of ego amongst the self-doubt —and the last thing the other needs is to feel pitied before he’s even begun to share what’s concerning him. Still, there’s no denying the tension in Tang’s shoulders, bright hazel hues flitting up and down the other’s form in an impatient effort to read Pigsy despite having no information to go off of aside from tone.
That and how Pigsy had waited until the shop was closed, MK and Mei having raced out the doors a while ago. The more Pigsy speaks, faltering between his words, the more confused Tang grows. Mind flips between the different events of the day, of the week, to try and find somewhere he had gone wrong. Something he had done to give Pigsy the idea that he’d be uncomfortable around him for- whatever reason. Not once does it occur to Tang to consider anything Pigsy might have done, figuring that it was something inconsequential. There’s not much Pigsy could do or be that would ever make Tang’s care for him falter.
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❝  You... You- what?  ❞
Not the best reaction he could have given and as soon as the incredulous question— if it deserves to be called that —is out, he wishes he could take it back. But out of everything Pigsy could have said, that was certainly not a confession that had crossed Tang’s mind. Through the years, he’s seen Pigsy fawn over plenty of women. At least, Tang gets that impression. How accurate his assumptions are are up for debate, but he’s still confident that Pigsy must have liked a girl or two since they’ve known each other... Hasn’t he? Beginning to question everything he’s known up to this point, as well as his own skills at identifying one of his own, Tang hastily amends his clunky response,  ❝  Wait, wait— Let me begin again!  ❞
❝  That was a very brave thing you just did and I’m going to respond accordingly.  ❞  Tang firmly states, as if chastising himself for failing to do that. Difficult as it may be with the confusion gnawing at his mind. Not about Pigsy being into men— although, he did NOT see that coming —but about the others fears regarding it. Why would TANG, of all people, be uncomfortable with that? Unless... Oh shit. Does Pigsy not know?
Tang never came out to him. 
Decades of friendship, of being what he had thought was openly Gay, and he never actually TOLD his best friend. Looking back on it, Tang can see how it snowballed. He had meant to tell Pigsy but the timing never felt- right. At the start of their friendship, when Tang was still coming to terms with his sexuality, he hadn’t been willing to take the risk. Knowing that Pigsy wouldn’t be worth the friendship if he DID have a problem with it, but terrified of losing the other regardless. Desperate to cling to his first true friend for as long as possible, Tang figured he had time. He could mull it over. Could decide whether he was really attracted to men. Even if he already knew that he was. So, time had passed... and continued to pass... and it went from not wanting to lose his new friend to not wanting to lose his CLOSE friend.
To not wanting to lose Pigsy.
Tang had never dated much anyway... Or at all. Not having any interest in the men around him, content to spend his time with his books, his friend, and the noodles the other provided. Not one to openly ogle either, Tang supposes his tastes could have easily gone under the radar. The closest thing he can think of to blatantly fawning over another man would have to be his fascination with the Sun Wukong. But studying the Monkey King was just as much an act of pure interest than it was a boyhood crush turned adulthood passion. Eagerness and superficial attraction intertwining into an excitability that was more indulgence than actual FEELINGS.
Although, it had been a... shock to discover that the Monkey King was real. 
After a while, ‘ coming out ’ had simply slipped Tang’s mind. Falling into a comfortable normalcy with Pigsy that, at times, made it feel as if he already had. It never felt like he was keeping a secret anymore. No fear or shame lingering beneath the moments they shared, lacing fondness with a bittersweet reality. Tang was merely existing as he was meant to. Having skipped past the test that would have PROVEN Pigsy to be a proper part of it. 
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❝  Pigsy... You’re my oldest and dearest friend. And- I am beyond honored you’d share that with me. I could NEVER be uncomfortable around you for something like that. If someone made you happy, whatever and whoever they happened to be, then I’d be grateful to them and happy for you...  ❞  Ignoring the tightness in his chest at the latter statement— now is NOT the time to dwell on how jealous he’d be amongst the congratulating —he smiles, resting a hand on Pigsy’s shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze,  ❝  Trust me when I tell you this- I’m always going to be by your side. That’s one thing you can count on.  ❞  
Lightly patting Pigsy’s shoulder, Tang lightly chuckles, the sound holding a hint of nerves as he shrugs and looks off to the side,  ❝  Besides, it’d be pretty hypocritical of ME to be uncomfortable around someone with an interest in men...  ❞  Praying that his meaning will be deciphered, Tang feels his face flush as he tugs at his scarf.   「 ☆ 」 
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blinderspeaky · 4 years
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Amoret | Tommy Shelby
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A/n: So this is my first piece of writing here and I apologise if it's too long! idk how accurate this is but I had fun writing it so that's all that matters I guess
Cora is going through a dry spell because everyone is too scared to make a move on her because of her best friend, Thomas Shelby, so he takes matters into his own hands -- literally.
Word count: 23,450
"I can't believe you did that." I flirtatiously giggle as if I didn't have to scrub my hands raw to get rid of the blood from the gory mess that happened just a few hours prior.
"I needed to get out somehow, I just didn't realise I was trashing hundreds of pounds worth of art." The handsome stranger laughs, leaning into me as we get more familiar and comfortable with each other.
"Terrible, just terrible." I smile fondly, my red lipstick gleaming at him as I fiddle with my fruity cocktail.
"I must say, you have the most gorgeous smile, if I knew how to paint I'd never run out of inspiration as long as you're around." The man charms and I have to suppress an eye roll.
What does a girl have to do to just get a bit of pleasure round here?
I'm not here to be charmed, I'm here for a fun time.
"Thank you, you really know how to charm a girl." I say, crossing my leg over the other, so that my leg is in between his legs from where he's sat on the bar stool.
"Only the pretty ones." He replies, pushing the little curled bits of hair framing my face behind my ear-- the rest of my hair is placed in a delicate low bun, pinned back with expensive pins. He rubs his knuckles against my cutting cheek bone, seemingly admiring my face. "It's unfair how beautiful you are."
"What are you gonna do? Kiss me about it?" I make the first move.
He smirks. 
"Thinking about it."
His eyes flicker between my eyes and my lips, and he's about to lean in when a voice interrupts.
"Cora." Tommy says as he walks up to us. "I'm going to head back to my office, I'll see you later to finish business, alright?"
"Yeah, just you?" I question, staring up at my best friend.
"Yeah, Arthur's pissed in the back room, thought I'd let you know, but everyone is still here." Tommy answers, giving my shoulder a squeeze.
"See yous." I sing, ready to turn back to my entertainment tonight.
"Bye." Tommy says and gives the handsome stranger a once over before leaning down to say something into my ear. I'm used to his teasing and he's used to my punches after, so I let out a huff, ready to hear what he has to say this time. "Careful, I've heard this one bites."
I look into his eyes with an annoyed look. "That's why I'm here."
Tommy lets out a quiet chuckle before wordlessly leaving the building, leaving me with the pretty boy.
Looking back at the stranger, I'm startled to find him wide eyed and inching away from me by the second.
"What?" I ask, taking a sip from my drink.
"That was... that was Thomas Shelby." He says, frozen.
"So?" I lift a perfectly arched eyebrow.
"He's a Peaky Blinder."
"So am I, yet you've been talking to me just fine." I state, knowing where this is going; this has happened way too many times recently.
People know of me but most people couldn't put a face to my name, which is why this happens a lot. I'm ready for the onslaught of rejection and a hint of terror.
"You're a Peaky Blinder?" He utters as if he can't believe it.
I nod.
"I've gotta, uh, go, have a nice evening but I must get going." He says and quickly gets off his stool to rush out of the room, practically tripping over his own feet.
Letting out a huff, I finish my drink before hopping off my stool to join everyone in the back room, everyone is more or less smashed, a slur of half hearted cheers go around room when I enter and it makes me smile. I sit down next to Finn, who offers me a cigarette, which I accept and light it up, tilting my head towards the ceiling showcasing the thin, long scar on my throat, I blow the smoke out, watching it billow towards the ceiling.
"Why are men so scared of me and Tommy?" I grumble.
"Because they know if they fuck up, either of you will rip their spleen out, darling." Polly comments, her slender fingers twitching her cigarette to drop off the ash. "Individually or together, doesn't matter." She adds.
"Match made in heaven... or hell, depends how you look at it." Michael states before downing his drink.
"How do you do it?" I ask Polly, taking a drag of my cigarette.
"Well, for starters, I'm not as ruthless as you and I guess I'm not attached to the hip with Thomas." She replies nonchalantly.
"What you need to do, right, Cora, is find a man who is handsome and can take a good punch." Arthur tells me and I raise an eyebrow at him. "Because whoever it is, he's gonna get punched by someone you know and by punched I mean shot."
"No one is bulletproof, Arthur." I say, not taking on his drunk advice.
"I am." John laughs.
"No, no you're fucking not." Finn retorts.
"How do girls not get scared of you guys?" I question, fiddling with my necklace. "On an extremely good day you guys can look intimidating and scary, how do you get girls?"
They all scoff at my teasing.
"Fuck off, alright." Arthur grumbles, knocking back another glass.
"The girls like the thrill. They come from a very traditional family and want a part of the danger but they also think they can change us." John answers my question seriously.
"Never fucking works though, does it?" Finn barks a laugh, nudging John.
We continue to chat for a while before I get bored and I'm still slightly pissed off about earlier, so I say my goodbyes not that anyone's really listening, too drunk to function so I slip out and step out into the brisk chilly streets of Birmingham.
Twisting and turning until I get to my destination, I open the door with the key I've had for literal years and brush my shoes off before stepping inside, closing the door behind me.
Making my way through the room, I wordlessly open Tommy's office, finding him sat at his desk going through paper work, cigarette in hand; he looks up, dropping his pen but goes back to his work.
"You're here earlier than I thought." He states, his tone light.
I huff, mad at him although I know it's not his fault.
"Same." I reply tightly, throwing my bag down into the little seating area in the corner of his office before I sit down in the chair opposite him.
"You don't have to be here, I can do this on my own, you know. I'm not forcing you to be here." Tommy replies in a sincere voice, taking a drag of his cigarette.
"I know, but no one wants me out there." I counteract, leaning back in my chair, a sour look on my face.
Tommy looks like he wants to ask but decides against it; he knows when I'll come around.
"Right, uh... so I talked to some connections and they said they know about the plans but are refusing to tell me any details, and I'm debating with either paying them a visit or selling their information." Tommy informs and just like that I'm back into business mode again, forgetting about my interaction from earlier.
Then we talk about business, business plans, plans for the future, and just random things whilst having a laugh.
As things are winding down, Tommy gets up to grab a drink from his own bar cart that he has in his office.
"Do you want one?" Tommy offers, looking over his shoulder at me.
"Sure." I accept and he gets another glass out, beginning to pour our drinks. I sink into my chair, rubbing my eyes as I let out a groan. I'm still bothered about earlier.
That guy just rubbed me the wrong way, it's happened plenty of times before tonight; I'm best friends with one the most notoriously dangerous person in the midlands, I guess tonight was just my breaking point.
If I saw him again, I wouldn't hesitate to send a few promises to him.
"Fuck, how come you can be a manwhore but I can't even get a single person to be interested in me for more than 20 minutes?" I question, accepting my glass from Tommy when he approaches me.
"Long enough to get the job done though." Tommy jokes, sitting down in the chair next to me, our feet hovering above one another where our legs are crossed. "I think it's a little thing called misogyny."
"Little thing my ass." I bitterly chuckle, taking a sip. "You're at fault for all this, by the way."
"The fuck did I do?" He asks with a light laugh, before taking a sip of his drink.
"You're the reason all these people get scared to either even approach me or go any further than some harmless flirting." I explain, tucking some hair behind my ear as I send him a look that only widens his smirk.
"Not my fault people are so delirious with terror when it comes to me." Tommy shrugs, placing his glass on the table beside his chair and he laughs at my disbelief.
"Yeah, because you definitely didn't put on a show at the garrison last month that we're still finding blood from." I roll my eyes fondly.
"Got to show my enemies what I'm capable of." Thomas brushes my words off. "And hey, it's not like you're innocent yourself. Didn't you destroy a guy's face so much they the police couldn't even identify him just a few days ago?" He teases, licking his lips.
"No, doesn't ring any bells." I shake my head.
"Funny, maybe that's why men are scared of you and won't approach you. I for one, am absolutely terrified of you." Tommy states, making me laugh knowing that's he's only half joking.
"Most people can't put name to my face so they generally don't know me, therefore it's your fault." I tell him, placing my drink on the matching side table next to me.
"Really?" He sighs
"Yes! Just earlier tonight I was talking to some guy and then you came along, Mr. I will cut someones ears off if they look at me, and you scared the bejeezus out of him, turned him into a puddle of foolery. Then I told him I'm connected to you and he freaked the fuck out, made an excuse to leave and he practically tripped over his own feet to get away from me." I reply grumpily, sitting up in my chair.
"Are you done?" Tommy asks, sending me a look.
"No, no I'm fucking not. I've not had sex in like 2 months, do you even know what that feels like? Most of the time it's not even me, it's you that scares them off!" I answer exasperated, watching him down the rest of his drink, placing the empty glass back on the table.
"No, I don't, actually. Why don't you just go outside of Birmingham for a fuck?" Tommy suggests, leaning forward on his knees.
"Fuck you. Mate, I've fucking tried and if we weren't literally sewn together that might work but everywhere I am, you are, vice versa. It's also such a faff to go all the way out or Birmingham for some dick that's probably mediocre. You ju---"
I'm cut off from my rant by Tommy's lips on mine.
I'm so confused and stunned by his actions that I don't know how to react. Freezing, I just sit there for a moment before I decide to kiss him back for a few moments before I pull back sort of abruptly, not in a big deal.
"What are you doing?" I question, searching his crystal clear blue eyes that are mere inches away from my face.
"If everyone else is so scared of me that they can't approach you, may as well take matters into my own hands." Thomas explains, and he gingerly cups my cheek, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone, his eyes soft.
I lean in closer to him, thinking over how this could play out, what it would do to our years long friendship.
It's no secret that we find each other attractive, we've said it to each other and everyone around us, but I can honestly say that nothing has ever happened between us. Two best friends that have expressed our admiration for each other.
I don't know if I want to ruin that.
Our friendship is incredibly strong and personal, I don't know if one steamy night could just throw that away.
My desire acts on it's own and as Tommy is searching my green eyes, I close the gap between us, moving in perfect sync with each other as I play with his hair and he squeezes my waist.
It's like I'm slipping into a trance and all I can think of is Tommy, I'm consumed with all things Tommy. This moment right now is making me feel lighter than air, I've got sparks on my stomach at how he's making me feel.
The burning need to be closer is killing me and it seems like Tommy is feeling the same as he uncups my cheek and places his hands on my waist, pulling me onto his lap.
Thomas agonizingly slowly trails his hand up my thigh, his fingertips grazing my exposed skin where my dress has risen up, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. Tommy's hand comes in contact with the pocket knife stuffed into my stocking and he pulls away slightly, letting out a low throaty chuckle, "Classic Cora." He mumbles against my mouth, making me smile, and he pulls deadly weapon from my stocking, placing it on the table beside him. Giving my hip a momentary squeeze, Tommy swipes his tongue against my lip asking for entrance, parting my lips, his tongue meets mine and he begins to explore my mouth, seeing what gets a reaction from me.
His fingers find my precariously placed tied up hair, pulling the few pins out and then the hair tie, sending my thick, dark brown almost black curls cascading down my back, causing Tommy to let out a sound of appreciation and bury his fingers into my hair.
I don't usually have my hair down as it's easy to grab on to and it just feels more professional to have it up. I've also got so much of it that it gets in the way when I'm trying to work.
Disconnecting from Tommy I attach my mouth to his neck, leaving my mark. Tommy tilts his head, giving me space to find his sweet spot and he lets out a nice little moan as I set to work.
The pending feeling of his hand trailing my thigh is overwhelming and his fingertips approaching where I need him the most makes me pause, my bottom lip dragging up the skin of his neck.
"Do you want me to stop?" Thomas whispers into my ear, his pursed lips tugging at my earlobe.
"Fuck no." I consent, and his hand meets my underwear.
Beginning to confidently rub me through my underwear, I let out a shaky breath against Tommy's neck and I instinctively open my legs wider for him. His touch is as light as a feather, desperate for more friction, I grind on his fingers letting out a moan.
"Mm, sound so good for me." Tommy rasps, his teeth grazing the skin on my prominent collarbone. Moving my fancy lacy underwear to the side, without hesitation Tommy runs his fingers through my folds, collecting my wetness and bringing it up to my clit.
All I can do is bite my lip to conceal my moans.
Trailing my hand down his front until I meet is trousers and I begin to palm is growing semi, which makes him let out a groan.
I declare that as my favourite sound.
Suddenly in one swift motion, I'm moved off of Tommy's lap and placed right on the edge of his hardwood desk and he's standing right in front of me, his gorgeous blue eyes blown out, looking at me as if I were the only person in world, and he's hungry.
"You're really pretty." Tommy utters.
Before I can reply, Thomas captures my lips again in another sensual kiss that's full of tongue, noises of appreciation, and hands are roaming as we keep involuntarily grinding against each other.
Pushing his suit jacket off and watching it drop to the floor, Tommy's hands find the back of my dress, making quick work of undoing the expensive fabric, and pulling it off of me, leaving me in my lingerie that I definitely didn't plan on letting my best friend see tonight whilst he's in his trousers, crisp white shirt, and extortionate looking waistcoat.
"Wow." My best friend says, slightly out of breath, taking in my figure and how off guard and innocent I look.
Unlike the brutally violent and devious businesswoman I am.
"Unbelievable."
"Shut up and touch me." I chuckle bashfully, weirded out at how special he's making me feel.
I feel extremely exposed but in a weird way, I kind of like it.
Tommy smiles fondly and presses a series of short kisses to my mouth before I take hold of his lip, flicking my tongue against him, causing him to tighten his grip on me.
Disconnecting, Thomas kisses down my neck, leaving a mark or two on his way down, until he gets to my chest and I arch into him. Kissing my cleavage as he cups my right boob, his lips trail down my torso, leaving a trail of fire behind him.
Dropping down to his knees, Tommy takes hold of my hips pressing a gentle kiss below my belly button before he snaps open my garter one by one and effortlessly drags my stockings down my legs.
Grazing up my legs with his hands or mouth, Tommy after what feels like years pulls my panties down, throwing them out of sight, I watch as his eyes light up and if possible I feel even more exposed.
Flicking his eyes up to me, looking like he's asking for my consent, I brush my fingers through his hair and give him a subtle nod.
Burying his head between my thigh, Tommy licks a strip up my heat, making me let out a moan, and bury my fingers into his thick hair.
Leaning back onto his desk, Tommy pushes my thighs apart so he can get better access as he attaches his mouth so my core, sending me to all sorts of heaven.
"Fuck, Tommy." I whine, tugging at his hair as I arch my back.
"Let it out, we're here alone, scream my name, let me hear how much you want me." Tommy urges with a slight smirk.
Without any warning, Tommy pumps a finger into me and I conform to his wishes at that, not caring how loud I was being, I let his name fall from my lips along with my moans.
My legs shudder under his hand, he lapped at me as if I were his last meal, reveling in the sounds I was making, the sounds he was earning.
I was close and we both knew that, so Tommy speeds up his movements and adds another finger inside of me, curling up.
"Fuck, oh my god, Tommy, don't stop." I pant, tugging at his hair.
Tommy had me withering in moments, my fingers tugging at his hair which made him groan, only adding to the pleasure he was giving me.
"Fuck, I'm gonna---" I began which only spurred Thomas on, he sucked harder and pumped his fingers faster. My breathing hitched and shaky, breathy, and loud sounds left my lips as I clenched around him, my body shuddering from the orgasm he'd worked out of me.
He continues his motions making sure I'm done, then pulls his fingers out, standing up right, brushing some hair out of my face.
"Such a pretty girl." He whispers, eyeing my lips.
Tommy's thumb runs over my bottom lip and I open my mouth, he brings his fingers that were inside of me to my lips, and I stick my tongue out and he inserts his finger into mouth, letting me suck my juices off of his fingers; his eyes seemingly in a trance at how my mouth is working.
"Mm, just like that." He whispers.
Standing up to my full height, I guide Tommy to swap places with me and he's very much willing to do so, peppering kisses to his jaw before dropping to my knees, I innocently look up at him through my lashes, loving how he's so aware of all my movements and how he's like putty in my hands.
"May I?" I raise an eyebrow, digging my fingertips under his belt.
Tommy leans down and cups my jaw, pressing a deep kiss to my lips. "Of course." I grin in delight and snatch a quick kiss as he begins to retreat.
Undoing his belt, I take that off and throw it away before undoing his button and pulling down his zipper. Palming him through his undone trousers, Tommy lets out a hitched breath, it's a barely there pressure, enough to feel something but no where enough as much as he like.
"Stop teasing." He groans, bracing himself on his desk and his knuckles are milky white from how hard he's holding on to his desk.
I chuckle darkly. "Tommy, I haven't even started."
Continuing my actions mixing up my pressure and pace as he throws his head back in annoyance.
Pulling him out of his underwear letting him spring free, Thomas groans when I grab him, making my mouth water. This sight alone could give me immense pleasure.
The sight of me on my knees in front of him, him practically fully clothed with his dick out, just calling out for me to suck, all whilst in the middle of his office.
With my best friend let alone.
I would love to tease him for hours but the overwhelming urge to hear Tommy moan, moan my name and pull my hair gets the best of me.
Tightening my grip on him, I wrap my lips around his tip that's already leaking precum, sucking lightly, which makes him throw his head back in pleasure.
"So pretty, such a pretty cock." I utter, licking his entire length and wrapping my mouth around him.
"Fuck, Cora." Tommy gasps, threading his hand in my hair to keep me there, and I let out a hum, causing him to tighten his grip on my hair as he lets out an estranged moan.
Taking as much as I possibly can into my mouth, I begin to work my magic, pumping whatever I can't with my hand whilst Tommy breathes heavily and lets out his moans above me.
The sight of him with his head thrown back as he moans my name whilst he half heartedly guides me with his hand, too lost in the pleasure to properly commits to it, is ingrained in my mind.
We're completely lost in the moment, right now it's just him and I, there's nothing else in our mind except lust and each other, and I'm alright with that.
"Oh my... fuck, I can't l---" Tommy cuts his pleasured rambling off and lets out a large breath before pulling me off of him. "I wanna finish inside of you." Tommy states breathlessly.
I wordlessly stand up, more than willing to conform to his needs and begin to undress him, his hands pulling off his clothes as fast as he can until he's completely stark naked in the middle of his office with his best friend.
Realising I've still got my bra on, I undo the back and pull the straps down, watching it fall the floor.
Tommy and I stand in front of each other, completely enamoured with each other, feeling extremely exposed but I like it.
"Gorgeous." Thomas whispers before pressing his lips to mine, gingerly holding my face in his hands.
Thomas guides me back a few steps to his desk and I prop myself upon it, as Tommy's hands roam.
Taking hold of himself, Tommy runs his tip through my dripping folds, the both of us letting out a shaky breath.
"You ready?" Tommy questions, tucking some hair behind my ears before pressing his forehead against mine.
"Mhm." I hum, running my hand down his back.
Capturing my lips in a quick kiss, Tommy lines himself up with my entrance and pushes in until he's done to the hilt.
"Fuck." We say in unison, making us breathe a chuckle.
Beginning to move his hips, Tommy buries his face in my neck, dragging his mouth wherever he pleases, exploring my skin. I hold the back of his neck, trying to stay afloat as my toes curl, and we're too far gone to care when expensive things fall from Tommy's desk.
***
"You should wear your hair down more often." Tommy tells me softly as he's propped up on his elbow looking down at me as I lie on my back, settling into the fairly large seating area Tommy has in his office.
"It's so long, it gets in the way." I pout, rubbing my eye.
"I like it." He sincerely says, picking up a lock and twirling it around his finger.
We're have gentle pillow talk without the pillows, just looking at each other in a different way as we lie in our underwear in the warm room, talking in quiet voices as if the whole world could hear us.
"I like your hair, very imaginative." I tease, combing his locks with my fingers.
"Rude." He grumbles, poking me in the side making me jerk as I let out a laugh.
"When you first get it cut it feels like velcro." I chuckle, making him grin.
"Yeah, I've just got the worst barber." Tommy smirks, playing with my fingers.
"Bitch." I laugh, ruffling his velcro like hair.
Every other Sunday Tommy sits in my kitchen letting me cut his hair as we bitch about business or just forgetting about work altogether.
"Talented at your craft but the most annoying barber I've ever met." He shakes his head, amused.
"I tell you each time, I don't mean to tickle your neck or catch your ear, it just happens." I defend myself, making him laugh.
"I don't mean to stab you, it just happens!" Tommy imitates me, making me poke him in the ribs which only makes him laugh harder. "If only people knew of your barbering skills and not your knife wielding skills, maybe they wouldn't be so scared of you."
"If only people knew of your sewing skills, they wouldn't be so scared of your gun ridden hand." I retort with a fond smile, looking up at how pretty he looks in this light, with the small matching fond smile of his face.
"Shh, or I'll tell people you are a professional at juggling." Tommy smirks, pushing some hair out of my face.
"Yeah, with knives, that's cool as fuck." I reply, passionate about my talent.
"Careful or we'll send you away to go to the circus." Tommy chuckles, pulling me in for a smiley kiss.
I've always been known to wake up really late, always the last one up, the last one to finish breakfast if at all, and always the last one out of the door in the morning. It's not that I stay out really late, I'm usually at home at a reasonable time, I cosy down in my homely home, and I just relax after the usually hectic day and yet I still wake up late.
Except today.
I wake up tangled in a mess of limbs, Tommy's arms wrapped around me and I suck in a breath, wishing on everything in the world that he doesn't wake up. Easily slipping out of his grasp, I sit on the edge of the large ottoman, rubbing my face before letting out a sigh.
I need to get dressed and be out of here before Thomas wakes up, I do not want to have the awkward conversation of the morning after.
Quickly and quietly, I put my dress back on, throw my hair up as I approach the window, pulling one of the slats down to see what it's like at this ungodly hour of 5 in the morning, the Sun is just starting to rise, highlighting the permanent haze of smoke above Birmingham.
Shoving my ankle boots on, I tug the zips up and tip toe towards the door so that my heels don't click against the wooden floors.
Closing the door behind me as silently as possible, I let out a big breath when I succeed and begin to walk out the building that I visit everyday.
I know I'm going to see Thomas again in just a few hours but hopefully we'll both be consumed in work to talk about what happened. God I hope no one will pick up on what happened.
I don't regret last night at all and I can say that with my whole chest but I also love my friendship with Tommy, and I hope one night of mind blowing, amazing sex won't ruin that.
I've no idea where we stand and that scares me.
That's my best friend, he'll always be my best friend.
Opening up the door to my house that I never got to see last night, I begin to tidy up a few things as I've got some time before I have to head into work. This is my haven, this is wear I escape work, I try not to bring business back here, this is my safe place so I have to have it clean.
Shoving an old newspaper into the bin, I begin to make a bite of breakfast and head into my bedroom whilst it cooks so I can get properly dressed.
Pulling my wardrobe open, brushing my fingers over the hangers until I find a suitable item a clothing; a navy blue dress that gives the illusion that it's off the shoulder but it's got a see through mesh-like material hanging from my shoulders with tiny multicoloured flowers embroidered into it, it's cinched at the waist but it's got a wavy extra bit of fabric above my chest, the length is slightly longer than I usually go for as it's inches shy from my ankles, whilst I usually go for just below the knee dresses but I like it.
Just about being able to do it up myself, I pick out some appropriate shoes with a tall heel as I'm surrounded by a lot of men so I hate being the shortest person in the room.
Plus Tommy is quite a bit taller than me and he always teases me for that, so I use my heel to either kick him in the shin or step on his toes.
Gently brushing through my hair to make sure it doesn't frizz up on me, I throw it up in an intricate low bun, leaving some large parts out to frame my face.
Going back downstairs to fetch my breakfast which I eat whilst I read this morning's paper, before I head out of the door.
***
"Well I'll say, this has got to be a first." Arthur laughs, leaning back in his chair as I enter the betting shop.
"Wow," Polly starts, looking at her watch bewildered. "Only 45 minutes late."
Even though I got up at the ass crack of dawn, I'm still late as I may or may not of got preoccupied with the book I've been reading recently and then I got caught up chatting with some people on my way over here.
"I usually expect to see you at around 10 or 11." John smirks, taking his cigar out of his mouth.
"What can I say? Don't get used to it." I say, my eyes flickering towards Tommy's office where he seems to be as of now and I can't help by think about last night.
"It's almost as if you're acting professional and playing by the rules." Polly sarcastically replies, hovering above Arthur.
"Never." I shake my head, placing my bag on my desk then hanging my long coat on the coat hanger.
"Tommy's in a bad mood, so watch out." John jokes, swinging in his chair.
"Really?" I raise an eyebrow, looking at him.
"Well, he's not really in any mood, he's just brooding in silence and doesn't want to interact or talk to anyone." Polly rolls her eyes,making her way over to her own work station. "Maybe you can sort him out." She adds, with a small smile.
Doubt it.
"I've gotta get my forms so I have to interact with him." I huff and brace myself as I open the door to his office, I've never knocked before so I'm not gonna start now.
"Good morning." Michael greets me, sitting in the chair that Tommy kissed me in.
"Morning." I say back, my eyes flicking up to Tommy who's not taking his eyes off of his work in front of him.
"Do you even know what this time of day looks like?" Michael teases, and I roll my eyes.
"Don't worry, Michael, she's been up for hours, I'm sure Cora loves the sunrise." Tommy states before I can even think of replying to Michael.
I glare at him as he leans back in his chair, lighting up his cigarette not even looking at me.
If he wants to be hostile, I can always beat him at that.
"Practically pulled an all nighter, was busy with a piece of work." I tell Michael but my words are aimed at Tommy, and I'm right because Tommy can be a piece of work when he wants to be.
Tommy just exhales his smoke and looks at me devoid of any emotion as I refuse to look at him.
"Should've asked for a hand, I'd of been more than willing." Michael says, completely oblivious to Tommy and I's quips.
"No, couldn't do that to you." I wave him off. "Anyway, I only came in here to get my forms." I say, finally looking at Tommy in the eyes, waiting for him to give them to me as they're in his drawer.
He just stares at me, his cigarette burning in his hand, seeming like there's a million words in his head that he wants to say yet absolutely thoughtless at the same time.
"Run along then, Michael." Tommy says as he hands Michael a file, which Michael wordlessly takes and exits the room.
Letting out a huff, I walk around his desk and crouch down next to him to open his bottom drawer.
"You're a twat, Tom." I grumble, grabbing the wad and standing up.
"No what you were saying la---" Tommy gets cut off by me slamming the stupid forms on his desk and the grabbing his own gun from his holster and pressing it below his jaw as I hold his throat, pushing him back in his chair.
"Finish that sentence, I dare you." I prompt him, looking at his slightly taken aback eyes. "You know I'll do it."
He stays silent, clearly picking up on my vibe.
Putting pressure on my hands one last time before throwing his gun into his lap, gathering what I came in here for and leaving his office.
Tommy and I bicker all the time, disagree on extremely menial stuff but we only properly argue very occasionally but we always come around in the end because despite everything we love each other but god can we get on each other's nerves.
Not that I'd call that an argument, that was just a warning.
"We knew you weren't a morning person but fuck Tommy must've pissed you right off." Arthur laughs, as he chalks some stuff up on the big blackboard.
"More than you'll ever know." I grumble, and begin to get to work.
***
As the Sun sets, people start clearing out of the building as they finish their work, singing or grumbling a goodbye over their shoulder as they go home to their family or lonesome house. I could only dream of clocking out as I've still got a load of work to do and not even the kind I like, it's all admin and menial things that need to be done but I wouldn't consider it fun by any means.
It's kind of nice in a funny sort of way, it's dark outside and the lights are on illuminating the room with a soft glow, there's a slight patter of rain on the windows and it's just relaxing and quiet.
It's giving me a moment with my mind to think things over as I pretty much work on autopilot.
I know Tommy is still here, I can see him through the glass doors to his office, clearing extremely concentrated on whatever he's doing; I wonder if his mind keeps drifting back to what we did on his desk just last night.
I don't what to say to him, he's giving me the cold shoulder, refuses to talk to me unless it's necessary, and I just don't know where we stand. I don't know what I want to come from last night, I'm really happy with where we are right now and although I had - arguably - the best sex of my life last night, not much can come between our friendship.
I felt something that night, Tommy made me feel so special and like I was the most important person in the world to him, and I couldn't deny that those feelings.
Letting out a sigh, I drop my pen and grab a cigarette, placing it between my lips before I search for my matches. Striking a match, I tilt my head back and as I'm bringing the flame to my cigarette my eyes catch Tommy leaning against the doorway to his office, staring at me.
I pause for a moment before lighting my cigarette and waving the match out as I exhale.
"You look really pretty when you concentrate." Tommy states and if there were another person in here I don't think I would of been able to hear him.
"I don't do it often so you're welcome." I reply, never one to take compliments. "But thanks." I bashfully add.
"We both know that's not true." Tommy smiles ever so slightly.
"You look really pretty when you smile." I reply, taking a drag from my cigarette.
Tommy steps down the few steps and approaches me.
"Cora... what's going on?" Tommy asks, turning the chair beside me around so he can sit on it backwards, his arms folded on the backrest.
I look down, not sure what to say or where to look or how to react.
"I don't... I don't know." I say quietly, almost ashamed to admit. I'm always in control of a situation, I know the ins and outs but this time I have no idea where I stand, what's going on and I'm definitely not in control; neither of us are.
"Do you regret it?" He questions and I look at him properly.
"No, I don't. I can honestly say that I don't regret it." I answer sincerely, and a shimmer of relief speeds across his eyes. "Do you?"
"No. It was great and you don't regret great things." Tommy replies after a few moments, watching me stub out my cigarette. "But... I was hurt that you left before I woke up." He hesitantly adds, as if he doesn't know how to put his words together.
Neither do I.
Looking around the room as I try to gather my words, I can feel his bright blue eyes boring into my side and its quite unnerving.
"I didn't know what to say to you. Tommy, you're my best friend, you have been since year 9, we've gone through so much together and I can always rely on you ---you've always just been my best friend. Then suddenly when I get rejected by some twat who's scared of either women in general or the fact that you are my best friend and you decide to kiss me and then things escalate, things change. For good or for bad I don't know." I try to just put some of my thoughts into words.
"You could've left a note, woke me up if you really needed to go, silently got dressed with me and then we parted ways, anything... anything other than wordlessly leaving. Everything stopped, I slept a full night, I didn't have any messy dreams, I woke up rested, then when I saw you weren't there with me, none of that mattered anymore." Thomas explains with a small shrug, his eyes burning for a conclusion, a cohesive answer, anything.
"Only because you had company, female company no doubt." I state, sending him a tired look. His face is illuminated by the standing lamp behind me, highlighting his slight frustration, hurt, and confusion.
"No, I'm almost 100 percent sure it's not just female company. When I got back from fighting and I was having my night terrors, I'd call you up and you'd come sleep in my bed, and you'd help me fall asleep again and at least help with my dreams. When I was using you'd demand that we share a bed because you knew that I knew that you hated it. You've always helped me sleep." Tommy insists, leaning forward in his chair.
"I was just being a good friend, Tom."
"I'm not asking you to be my girlfriend or to marry me, I'm just saying I sleep better with you around. I don't know what I want to come out from this or where we stand but please promise that at the end of the day we'll always be best friends." Tommy pleads, grabbing my hand, clasping it with both of his.
"We'll always be best friends, Thomas. No matter how mad I am at you or you at me, I'll always be there for you." I assure, squeezing his hand with a small smile. "I hate not being in control, my whole life I've always been in control, had a grip on things, and just knew the ins and outs of every situation, then suddenly I don't it scares the living hell out of me, Tom. I don't know how to react."
"I'm not asking you to, I'm just as confused and lost as you are, I don't know where we stand or how to be normal again." Tommy says, his eyebrows raised. "I don't know what I want to come from this, but I know I'll always want you around."
"Same, always." I tell him, looking deep into his eyes. "I've gotta go, Tommy, I'll see you tomorrow." I lie, I've still got a load of work to do but if Tommy keeps looking at me like he is now, I'm not going to be able to make it out of here without my hair a mess.
Standing up, I push my chair back in and take a step away before Tommy says something.
"You can't keep running from your problems."
I pause, turning to look at him.
"Sorry?"
"You can't keep running away from things that you can't solve in 5 minutes." Tommy expands, looking up at me. He looks uncertain, as if he doesn't know how I'll react.
Keeping my gaze on his for a split second more before I swiftly bend down to press my lips against his, cupping his cheek. He seems surprised and stills for a moment then eagerly kisses me back, his hand also on my cheek.
We kiss for a few more moments until I pull back slightly, our faces inches away. "Watch me." I whisper, looking into his stormy sea of blue eyes, and my eyes flicker down to his lips before I stand up to my full height.
Taking a step back to make my move out of here but Tommy suddenly stands up straight and grabs my hand before I can escape and pulls me into him, immediately cupping my face with his soft hands and softly crashes his mouth to mine.
Without any hesitation I kiss him back, wrapping my arms loosely around his neck as I slowly relax into him. Tommy pulls me impossibly close to him, feeling every contort of his body, his hands steadily trail down my back as I work my mouth against his.
Once again, Tommy pulls my hair out of my hairband, letting my wild locks bounce free around my back. He buries his fingers into my curls whilst his other hand wonders, feeling my waist, hips and ass.
I press my hips against his and he leans against the nearest desk, he lets out a moan at the feeling of my hips and I take advantage of that so my tongue can get reacquainted with his.
Last time it was slow, hesitant touches, taking our time but this time it's eager, fast moving, and hungry.
I let out a moan when Tommy flicks his tongue against mine, completely lost in the moment; I can feel that I'm losing myself in him, his touch, his mouth, his mind. Disconnecting, Tommy attaches his mouth to the sensitive skin on my neck, dragging his lips up to the sweet spot below my ear.
The fast that he knows that fact sends me reeling over something so silly and simple, but it wakes me up.
Immediately I push myself off of him, taking a few shaky steps back with wide eyes. He looks shocked, his blown out eyes shining in concern, and he takes a step towards me.
"Co---"
"No." I shake my head. "We can't do this, I need to leave." I blurt out and make an exit, not bothering to pick up my coat on the way out as Tommy calls after me, but I slam the door on him, blocking out his voice that's always been comforting for me.
***
"Turns out it was just a fluke then." Polly teases, lighting up a cigarette as I enter the building.
"Seems like it." I agree, glancing at the clock, seeing it reads 10:45.
"Who's this raven haired beauty walking in?" A familiar voice asks, and I look to my left to see Ada proudly sitting on the closest desk to me.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, not being able to help the grin on my face as I approach her, pulling her into a quick hug.
"Thought I should come up as I haven't seen everyone in a while, and you even longer." Ada explains, and it's true as the last time she came up I was busy visiting my family that live down south.
"Well, it's great to see you again. Did you bring Karl?" I question, and as I'm looking at her I can't help the guilt that tugs at me as I slept with her brother just a few nights ago.
"Yeah, he's busy making a mess in Tommy's office with Finn." She answers, folding her arms.
"I'm sure he'll look forward to finding that." I smirk. "Is Tommy here by the way?" I ask curiously, hanging my bag up along with my coat, next to the coat I left here last night when I made a hasty exit.
"No, something happened at The Garrison or something and he had to go sort that out." Ada informs me, sending me a quizzical look when I let out a sigh of relief.
"Michael said someone got too rowdy and fired some shots at someone, no ones seriously hurt but Tommy went to go sort it out." Polly says, walking towards us creating a trio.
"When did your hair get so long?" Ada asks fascinated, her slender fingers coming up to grasp a few loose curls.
"I've not seen you without your hair up in what? Two years, maybe?" Polly comments, also looking at my hair.
"I just didn't have time this morning to do it, rolled out of bed, parted it and left." I tell her, running my hand through it.
"Didn't have the time? It's nearly 11 o'clock and you're only just strolling into work." Ada exclaims with a laugh.
"It took me ages to get to sleep, and I need my 8 hours." I retort, the reasons I couldn't get to sleep need to remain a secret.
Her damn brother.
"And just because you're you Tommy won't get mad. If any of us are more than 20 minutes late, Tommy will act like a child." Polly roll her eyes.
"How do you do it?" Ada asks genuinely.
Suck his dick apparently.
"I simply just show him my knife and he does whatever." I joke, with a smirk. "Hey, it's not like you have to be here at 8 or 9 on the dot, you're all founders of this company, you have just as much of say as that dumb fuck."
"True, but you can't deny that Tommy will throw a fit if we're late, where as you..."
"What can I say? Shelbys love me." I tease and leave the room.
It's just pushing 3 pm when Tommy walks into the room again, the first time I'm seeing him since I freaked out last night. It's been a busy and chaotic day so far, people coming in and out, I had to go deal with someone who wasn't paying up which got a bit messy, then I had to catch up on all the things I didn't do yesterday after leaving prematurely, and to do that with a messy head on top of that is difficult.
Tommy searches the room as he continues to walk through the room until he finds me. "You, my office." He points his finger at me and then towards his office doors.
"No?" I shake my head, quirking my eyebrows.
"It's fucking business that's all." Tommy huffs from across the room, giving me a slight glare before looking down and heading towards his office.
Pushing my chair out, I let out an even bigger huff than Tommy's and stand up, meeting him at his office doors. Our eyes flicker over each other extremely briefly before he opens his door and lets me enter first.
We both stop short at the sight of a man sitting in the chair opposite Tommy's desk.
"Who's that?" I whisper to Tommy, neither of us taking a step further.
"Mr Parsons, wants business with us." Tommy briefly tells me before moving forward. "Good afternoon, Mr Parsons."
"Ah! Good afternoon, not that good in a place like this." Mr Parsons states, looking up at Tommy as he goes to sit in his desk chair.
"Good afternoon." I greet and sit down in the chair next to him.
"Oh, a woman, a pretty woman that is." He comments with a weird smile of his face.
I send a quick look to Tommy who looks just as speechless as I am. "Thank you, business --- what can we do for you?"
Ever since I joined The Shelby Company Limited all those years ago Tommy's always asked me to join in with meetings. Not entirely sure why if I'm honest, he's always said and I quote 'you give me a level headed opinion', whatever that means.
"I need protection, I've recently moved to this shithole and I've heard that you so called Peaky Blinders are the best people for the job." Mr Parsons states, intertwining his fingers over his chest.
Tommy and I share a look at his choice of words.
"What do you need protecting?" Tommy questions, leaning back in his chair.
As Mr Parsons answers Tommy's question in his unique way of vocabulary, I take a good look at him. He's probably at the higher end of middle-aged, a full head of black hair growing white, a rather slim and tall build, well dressed, a thin greying moustache, and a sinister smile. He's not unattractive but there's something just off about his face.
"We will definitely look into that, Mr Parsons, we'll need to assess the situation ourselves first." Tommy says, gesturing with his hands.
"This pretty lady, I hope of course." He gives me a grin, and I grip the arms of the expensive chair to stop myself from showing him what I really think of him.
"No." Tommy bluntly tells him. "My brother will."
"That's a real shame." Mr Parsons sighs and looks at me as if I were his last meal on earth. "I must say, I think it's really great that you have so many women working for you."
"First of all," Tommy starts, leaning back in his chair and lights a cigarette, "They work with me, and secondly if you weren't so creepy and weird, you'd not speak of women as if they're a rare breed of dog."
Mr Parsons takes no notice of Thomas, just keeps his smile as his green eyes take me in, making my skin crawl. If the circumstances wear different and we were in a different environment I'd of either punched the guy in the face or threatened to do something worse by now, but because this is business and he could be important, I can't.
I lead forward in my chair to be closer to him despite my whole body screaming no. "You're coming on a little strong."
"That's just the way I act with beautiful women. A good one only comes around once and a while and you have to snap them up real fucking quick." He replies, with a wink, looking proud of himself.
"And you think it's working?" Tommy sasses and I stifle a chuckle, pursing my lip to conceal my smirk.
"I know it's working." He states over confidently, which even if I were into him, that would be a big turn off.
Like Tommy, he has a certain confidence about him but it's not stifling, big headed, or cocky, it's subtle, he demands it without verbally demanding it, and it's attractive.
Ew, since when did I use my best friend as a model of what is hot and not?
"Business, Mr Parsons, we're here for business." I remind him, sending him a stern look.
"See." Mr Parsons smirks at Tommy, and I roll my eyes as Tommy just stares straight through him, his cigarette seemingly forgotten as it burns in his fingers. "My business need protecting because I've made a few enemies in my year, and people like trying to tear me down."
"Wonder why." I mumble in a huff.
"What was that, sweetheart?"
"Oh nothing, just talking to myself, nothing for you to worry about." I wave him off, throwing a glare at him I how intrusive he's being.
"Anything that concerns your gorgeous mind is my concern, darling." Mr Parsons states softly before he grabs my hand that was dangling off of the arm of my chair.
I throw my head back in annoyance; I'd give anything to show this bitch my knife. I pull hand back, wanting to wash hands immediately.
"Why should we give you our protection?" Tommy asks, raising an eyebrow, taking a drag from his cigarette.
"Because, you clearly need it." Mr Parsons says, taking his eyes off of me from practically looking through my clothes to look at Tommy straight in the eyes.
Tommy abruptly gets up and rounds his desk towards me, he nods his head for me to get out of my chair, which I do and Tommy places his hand on my waist as we switch places to me sitting in his chair opposite Mr Parsons to Tommy sitting next to him, I can feel Mr Parsons' eyes on my body as I move. Tommy leans forward in his new chair, looking deep into Mr Parsons' eyes.
"What's that supposed to mean?" He questions, looking scary but it's kinda hot and to be honest, I'm slightly turned on.
"You live in a place like this, it's pretty self explanatory." Mr Parsons replies, crossing his leg over the other.
"I choose to live here, you don't have a choice." Tommy points out, clearly knowing more about him than I do.
"If that's what you want to believe, sure." He chuckles, throwing his head back.
"I'm not accustomed to being spoken to like that, especially not in my own fucking office." Tommy states, shaking his head slightly.
"What? No one been brave enough?" He chortles. "I've always been---"
"No one's seen the next morning after." Thomas cuts him off bluntly, and Mr Parsons stills for a moment.
This is such a dangerous and tense moment yet all I can do is keep my eyes locked on Tommy and all I want in the world right now is a repeat of the other night.
"I'm here to make a deal, Mr Shelby."
"Fine, give me your proposition." Tommy says, leaning back in his seat.
"50 percent of what I can--- no, will bring into The Shelby Company." Mr Parsons states with no remorse.
"And how do you expect to do that?" Tommy practically almost laughs, and I bite my lip to stop my guffaws coming out.
"With my business. If you protect me and people know that we're in bed together, you'll get even more people coming to you, you won't know where to put all the money." He answers, clearly delusional.
"Anything more you want from your so called deal?" Tommy asks, raising an eyebrow.
"A night with the girl."
We both freeze at that, both of us not believing that he just said that.
Tommy's always been protective of me, especially with people like this. I can even remember when I'd get people a year or two above me in school hitting on me or flirting with me, Tommy would always put them in their place and then ask if I was okay.
Yet at the same time, he knows to give me space and when I'm at my breaking point. He knows I don't like being smothered and accommodates for that.
"She's off the fucking table, untouchable." Tommy states with no hesitation or room for arguing. "Get the fuck out of my office." He shakes his head.
"I said sh---"
"Out." I push and he turns to look at me, his eyes widening at the sight of a gun pointed at his head.
"Yo---"
"Out." I push and pull the slide back.
He wordlessly gets up and Tommy and I escort him out as he swears a storm, slamming the door after himself.
Tommy and I stare at each other, alone since last night.
We both act on our own accord as I'm suddenly pressed against the wall, with Tommy's mouth on mine. I grip the back of his neck, my nails tickling his skin as Tommy pins me against the wall with his hips whilst his hands grip whatever he can.
Tommy wastes no time letting his tongue get reacquainted with mine, and I let out a moan at the feeling.
Last time it was soft, gentle, and slow, this time though, this time it's a lot more heated, passionate, and rougher.
"Jump." Tommy mumbles against me, and I do so, wrapping my legs around him as his hands go to my ass to get a steady grip on me.
I can tell he's holding back, almost as if he's refraining himself
"You can be rougher with me, by the way. I'm not made of glass." I quietly tell him, tracing his face with my fingers as we search each others eyes.
"Yeah?" He raises an eyebrow. "How rough?"
"We could set up a safe word?" I suggest.
"Like what?"
"Juggle?"
Tommy laughs before he presses his forehead against mine. "That works."
***
"What the fuck was that?" Tommy asks shocked, trying to catch his breath as his hand trails down the bare skin on my back.
"I don't know but oh my god." I shake my head, resting my forehead on his shoulder.
"This needs to be a regular occurrence, it's too good not to be." Tommy states, throwing his head back in his leather desk chair.
"Definitely." I agree, beginning to catch my breath.
I pull back, looking at Tommy who looks at me with hooded eyes and a small genuine smile, seemingly in a daze; we both are.
"You look pretty like this, no walls up, exposed and genuine." Thomas tells me softly, pushing some hair out of my face before quickly yet gently brushing his lips against mine.
"You're only saying that because I'm naked on top of you." I retort, beginning to have feeling in my legs again after riding him in his chair.
"I've always thought your were the most gorgeous person in the world, you know that, fuck, everyone knows that." He says and my stomach turns into liquid heat.
"Stop." I bashfully reply, burying my face into his neck as he breathes a laugh, continuing to stroke my back.
"You're so cute." He chuckles, kissing the side of my head.
"I've gotta get back to work, as much fun as this was, I like making money." I state, swiftly sliding off his lap and searching for my clothes that are strewn about the room somehow.
"So, what do you think we should do about Mr Parsons?" Tommy asks me, watching me fasten the back of my bra.
"You're not considering doing business with him are you?" I raise an eyebrow at him.
"No, fuck no." He shakes his head, getting up out of his chair to also get dressed. "Can't just let him come out of here with no repercussions."
"Probably just scare him, he didn't necessarily do anything, was just extremely unprofessional and disrespectful." I give him my two cents, before slipping my thick and dark jumper over my head. "But if there's anything that needs blowing up, you know where to find me."
Tommy chuckles as he buttons his shirt up.
"Of course." He nods with a smile, watching me slip into my skirt. "I'll send Finn his way."
"Terrifying." I smirk, finding it hard to believe that the boy I watched grow up could be intimidating.
"You seemed scared of him when he knocked on the door." Tommy teases, brushing his hip against mine as he walks past me.
"Well obviously, you had me up against the wall he was on the other side of; anyone could've caught us." I retort, looking in a mirror to sort my hair out as Tommy seems to have a fascination with it.
"Oh, so you're ashamed of me now are you?" Tommy asks, a teasing glint to blue eyes.
"Yeah, you're my dirty little secret." I laugh, before tying my shoes up.
Tommy tilts his head back to laugh as he slips his blazer back on, both of us looking put together again as if we didn't just have mind blowing sex.
"I'm going to have to kick you out of my office if you're going to speak to me like that." Tommy states, as we both near the door.
"We should really stop fucking on here. Next time my house." I tell him, looking up at him and the funny bright look in his eyes.
"Oh, so their is going to be a next time?" Tommy smirks with a raised eyebrow, look in proud of himself.
"You know as well as I do that there's going to be a next time." I send him a knowing look and he subtly licks his lips, looking pleased. "Can't get rid of you Shelbys if I tried."
Tommy laughs and presses a quick smiley kiss to my lips, "Don't ever change."
That's the start of an extremely natural, fulfilling, fun and sensual relationship. Nothing really changed within our friendship, only that we see each other naked a lot more.
It's definitely brought us closer together. We were extremely close before everything happened but now it feels like we've gotten to a new level, definitely a more intimate level but we're closer than ever before.
It kinda feels like we should've been messing around the whole time, it feels silly that we weren't. What we've got is so much fun and honestly it's a nice stress reliever at the end of the day.
It doesn't feel like we're tarnishing our years long friendship, this feels natural and free flowing.
No one knows, we made that a strict rule. We always try to mess around in the privacy of our own homes, but sometimes when it's late and everyone's gone home we can help ourselves or if tensions get high throughout the day.
I'm pretty sure no one knows. When this all started Ada was visiting and we were slightly sloppy with our secrecy, and she kinda cornered Tommy and I at different times but we got away with it as she never mentioned it again. After that we got our act together and any suspicion that was around died.
It's relatively unexpected from us, although we've expressed our attraction and admiration for each other to other people, we've always said we'd never act on it or that it was even possible to feel anything but appreciation for each other.
I've always joked that it'd be awful to be in a relationship with Tommy and that I'd hate to wake up to him everyday.
We also have another rule to not fall in love, which I laughed at when Tommy asked me to not fall in love with him, and then I told him to not flatter himself.
It's been kinda exciting sneaking around with Tommy. I feel like I'm hiding the resident bad boy of the town from my parents, but in this case it's one of the most dangerous people in the country and I'm sneaking around in front of his family, friends, and co-workers.
We generally don't really see each other outside of work besides on the Sundays that he comes over to my house to get his hair cut. Almost everyday we spend a lot of time together when everyone's gone home or ended their work day, we work together a lot, and I guess we see each other at the pub a lot; but to see each other outside of those premises isn't often. I occasionally go to Thomas' house but not by choice, only if he needs me there or there's a crises or an event going on but if I'm honest I don't like his house, which I've told him before and he always laughs at me because of it.
I love my flat in the heart of Small Heath and you couldn't get me out of their if you tried. I've lived there for years and it's my own place to call home. I could easily afford a house like Tommy's but you'd have to kill me to get me out of my flat.
In recent times, my house has sort of become his residence as he's spent so much time here recently. It's not just sex, we'll sometimes go to my house after work or after some evening entertainment, have a meal or just talk which leads to sex, and then half the time Tommy will stay the night; which leads to us having to sneak into work together without raising any suspicions.
Like now, it's honestly too often you'd find Tommy in my bed the morning after as the sun is beginning to shine through my bedroom windows, talking in quiet voices and having a few laughs.
Letting out a soft laugh at Tommy, I rub my hand over my face wake myself up a little bit more.
It's well into the morning, Tommy and I are lying in my bed, surrounded by sun spots that are pouring through my worn French windows, the Birmingham bustle is in full swing a few floors below us that we can hear small swings of from the window that is just slightly open, yet it's calm and quiet in this plant ridden room.
Just our quiet voices as if we were confessing our darkest secrets with the occasional stranger's shouty voice drifting through the window, and soft touches like we're handling a rare and ancient piece of history.
"Do you miss it?" Tommy asks as we're going through old memories.
"I miss my only worries being if Matthew Kennedy liked be back or not and being young and carefree, but I also love my life right now." I reply.
"Oh yeah, you planned out your wedding, how many kids you were gonna have and everything." Tommy laughs, his eyes glazed over as he thinks back to simpler times.
"It was gonna be outside with as many flowers as possible and we were gonna have 3 children, twin girls and a boy." I chuckle along with him, looking up at the crisp white ceiling. "But it turned out he was a shit kisser and only wanted to see my bed."
"I can still remember the black eye you gave him for that." Tommy grins, almost proudly.
"Deserved it, knob." I shake my head as he snickers before pulling me into him with the arm under me, curling me into his side, leaving the cracked open window to tickle my bare back with soft gusts of air.
"You're so violent." Tommy mumbles, pressing a gentle kiss to my hairline.
"Only to those that deserve it, which is a lot." I explain, before looking up at him. "So I can see how you got confused in perceiving me as a violent person, it's okay, Tom."
He send me an annoyed look as his fingers trace my back.
"You're so annoying, I've never met someone who annoys me so much." Tommy shakes his head, but despite his words his fingers stay consistent in tracing my back, running over my scars and smooth skin.
"You love it." I grin up at him.
All he does is grunt in response.
We lapse into a comfortable silence, with my head rested on his shoulder and my body pressed against his side whilst he has his arm wrapped around me, almost sending me to sleep again with his soft hands tracing my body.
"I can't believe you took a bullet for me." Thomas breaks the silence, running his fingers over the scar in my back.
"Only by accident." I reply, still slightly pissed off, making Tommy chuckle.
"Well if you hadn't moved I'd be dead." He states, looking up at the ceiling and easy smile on his face.
"And to think that you thought I was joking when it happened and you laughed." I shake my head, not being able help my smile.
I still remember that day as clear as ever.
We were outside the betting den with Arthur and Michael and I went to give Tommy a hug before I said goodbye and left but as we went to embrace each other I got a bullet straight into the back. I originally crashed into him and he thought I was joking before I crashed to the floor and my blood soaked my flowery blouse, that's when the laughter died.
"I said I was sorry!" Tommy claims, sounding anything but sorry. "I took care of you in the end though."
"You tripped as you entered the door, you knob!" I counteract, remembering how I was losing blood rapidly soaking his shirt, and as I was in his arms I laughed when he tripped nearly falling over.
"I was only trying." Tommy pouts, brushing his knuckles against my shoulder.
"Thank you." I breathe a small laugh before pressing a feather like kiss to his collarbone.
"You're not welcome." He jokes, before grabbing his first cigarette of the day.
Rolling out of his arms and onto my side of the bed, I do the biggest stretch known to man along with a loud and long groan. When I open my eyes, Tommy's giving me a look which I only grin at to annoy him, laying my head on my folded forearms as I lie on my stomach; I can't help but sigh as all I want to do I stay in the bed all day, preferably with him, not that I'd ever tell him that.
"Want one?" Tommy asks, offering his cigarettes to me.
"You know I don't smoke before 11." I tell him.
"I still don't get why." He shakes his head, exhaling the smoke.
"Habit." I shrug, knowing that it doesn't make any sense but I still do it anyway.
Running my fingers through my hair, I glance at my wardrobe, knowing that I should get ready sooner than later. Shuffling up onto my knees, I make my way over to Tommy's side of the bed as my wardrobe is situated on the left side of the room, I swing my leg over his, taking a brief pew on his thighs.
"You need your hair cut." I note, combing through his slight bed-head hair with my slender fingers.
"I know, but someone keeps putting it off." Tommy drawls, sending me a brief look be for he taps off the ash from his cigarette.
"It's not my fault that you come over to do it but you end up doing me instead." I chuckle, and he smiles.
"What can I say, it's just more fun."
I roll my eyes with a fond a smile before I go to get off Tommy's lap and venture out of this unbelievably comfortable bed but Tommy stops me by placing his hands on my hips, locking me in place.
"Yes?" I raise an eyebrow.
Tommy presses his lips against mine, pulling me in for a sensual, gentle morning kiss which leaves me breathless and wanting more. So much more. His touch is softer than ever as he cups my face in one hand and trails the other over the skin of my waist.
"That's all." Tommy shrugs, brushing his nose against mine with a small smile.
I mirror his smile and capture his lips one last time before I finally get out of bed, making my way over to my wardrobe and pull both doors open, my eyes darting over the hangers.
Picking out a dark dress with bright coloured flowers that has slight and subtle bell bottom sleeves, I shimmy into that before I make my way across the room to look out the window.
"Aw, it looks like it's going to rain." I frown, closing the window.
Tommy puts out his cigarette and gets out of bed, joining me at the window. "When doesn't it?"
"True," I shrug, then turn my back to Tommy. "Can you do me up?"
"Mhm." He hums and begins to do the buttons of my dress up.
"Thank you." I flash him a grateful smile and make my way over towards my vanity to do my make up as Tommy starts to change into one of the handful of suits that he leaves at my house.
This has sort of become the norm for us, Tommy spends the night, we spend a little too much time in bed in the morning until we ultimately have to get ready do the day and we have some banter whilst we get dressed and ready, the friendly banter is usually halted with kisses that make me feel warm inside as well as make my toes curl which always throws me off with how we can go from being best friends to acting like a couple in seconds.
I guess we are called friends with benefits.
Then we go downstairs and I make him breakfast, we talk about anything that's going on around us, business or people before our day starts and as soon as my front door swings open, we resort back to being best friends like we've always been, as if the night before didn't happen.
It didn't start like that.
At first it was strictly just sex. He'd only stay for a couple hours unless I really wore him out and he'd stay the night as much as he didn't particularly want to. We were kind of keeping it a secret from ourselves, reserving it strictly for behind closed doors, you wouldn't of suspected a thing; we slowly began moving forward, we stayed the night more, touches weren't just for nightfall anymore, and we knew where we stood with each other.
We don't refrain from showing each other affection anymore. Before this all happened Tommy and I would go through phases of giving each other affection but now it's different. I'd place a lot of money down for a bet to see if Tommy could walk past me without brushing his hand over my waist or back; he just subconsciously does it every time.
Sometimes there are moments where Tommy will be speaking with someone across the room or there's a family - even though I'm not family - meeting, and all I wanna do is just kiss him.
"You look nice." Tommy comments, coming up behind me as I'm putting some earrings in in front of my vanity mirror, bowing down to look at what I'm doing.
"Thank you." I reply as Tommy wraps his arms around my waist and leans down to press his chin to my shoulder blade, looking at me through the mirror. "You look alright."
Tommy flashes me a boyish smile before pecking the skin showing through the little triangle cut out in the back of my dress.
***
"See you tomorrow." I send Polly a smile when she makes her way out of the workplace.
"Bye, love." She mirrors my smile and closes the door behind her, leaving just a few Peakys peaking around.
Casting my eyes back to my desk, I carry on with my important task at hand before it swallows me whole.
As time goes by I sink further into my chair, the lights get softer as more people leave and my workload goes down. A loud groan disrupts my flow and it sounds like it's coming from Tommy's office.
Pushing my chair out, I head over Tommy's way not bothering to knock and I find him leaning back in his chair, looking stressed and defeated. His head whips up to look at me, his hard eyes softening when he sees it's just me.
"Why's it so dark in here?" I raise an eyebrow, noting the few lamps that are on in here, casting the room in a subtle orange glow when I walk towards him.
"Hurts my eyes." Tommy grumbles and I round his desk, taking a seat on his lap, his hand grazing my ass in the process.
"What's got you so gloomy?" I enquire, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw, feeling some tension release from his body as he settles into me.
"Just so much to do, so little time." Tommy replies with a soft sigh, placing his hand on my thigh and with his other hand he brushes some hair that got caught on my lipstick before he settles it around me.
"Seems that's how life's going these days." I mumble softly, sweeping the hair off of Tommy's forehead, causing him to close his eyes momentarily. "You should be careful not to overwork yourself, Tom. You make shit decisions when you're tired."
"What can I say? You tire me out." Tommy says with a fond smirk and slightly hooded eyes.
"You're a piece of work, got to put you to bed somehow." I fire back, matching his smirk.
Pressing my lips to the sensitive skin on his neck, working my way up towards his sharp jawline, Tommy lets out a satisfied sigh, beginning to properly relax. Connecting our lips in a sweet and short kiss, Tommy squeezes my thigh as I kiss him one time, two times, three times before going back to his neck.
"Mr Shelby?" Someone calls from behind the closed door with a hesitant knock.
We're too far gone to really care who it is or what they want so Tommy sighs and grants them entrance as I continue to work my magic on him. In comes a new lower ranked Peaky Blinder who's eyes widen at the sight of us, which it would be shocking to see us right now as everyone assumes we're still just best friends but here I am sat comfortably on Tommy's lap, marking him up.
"What can I do for you, Frank?" Thomas questions, trailing his hand up my thigh.
This poor boy is speechless, not knowing how to react and he looks like he wants to get out of this room as soon as possible.
"Uh, I just came in here to tell you that I've uh finished everything you asked me to do and it uhh all went smoothly." Frank states with anything but confidence.
"Great, thanks." Tommy responds, tilting his head to the side to give me more space.
Frank escapes the room as soon as possible and I chuckle at the hard working boy. We both know that he'd never utter a word to anyone about what he saw, that's why we didn't freak out. The boy want to go up in this company and he'll do anything to please anyone higher than him; he's too gentle and easily persuaded for this world.
"Is that everyone gone?" Tommy asks me.
"Should be." I confirm with a small nod.
"Perfect."
The next thing I feel is Tommy's hand creeping up my skirt.
***
"What?" Tommy utters, staring at a lower ranked Peaky Blinder with an ice cold stare.
"It's not my fault! I tried to get him to agree but---"
"Not your fault? This whole plan went down the drain because of you!" Tommy states, not believing the man.
"He had a gun to my head, what was I supposed to do?!" Matthew asks outraged.
"You should taken someone fucking with you, not just thought that you knew best! You need a wake up call because if you want to remain in this company you should know that that shit doesn't fly around here. Could've taken John, Arthur, Cora, fuck, even Michael for fuck sake, not just make decisions as you go along." Thomas retorts, frustrated beyond belief as he rubs his hands over his face.
"What's all the shouting about?" Polly questions as she comes up beside me from being in another room.
"Mathew fucked up and gave away Tommy's plans and shit, along with some other stuff that i don't quite know the details of, so Tom's losing his shit." I fill her in, looking up at her from where I'm sitting and she's standing.
"How the fuck did that happen?" She asks, confused.
"He ran into some trouble on the way or something, I'm not sure, I only came in half way through." I take an unsure guess.
"Men." She shakes her head, letting out a sigh.
"Boys." I correct, making her cackle as she turns to move further into the room.
"I don't need a babysitter, and I sure as hell am not gonna take a female with me." Mathew states in defence, his so called manhood damaged by the thought of a woman being able to do his job better than him.
Tommy huffs a small laugh.
"I wear heels bigger than your dick!" I joke from across the room, not taking his serious comment seriously.
"Just get out of my sight before I force you to." Tommy huffs, turning around and heading up to his office, not being gentle with the door as he closes it behind him.
"I'll go talk to him." I roll my eyes, getting up out of my chair, grabbing the knife from off my desk with me. "And you..." I start, showing Mathew my weapon. "Try not to be a sexist twat next time you're even vaguely threatened by a woman. We hold a lot more power than you can, so remember that next time." I give him a sly wink as I twirl the extremely sharp knife around my fingers.
Heading into Tommy's office, I lean against the door after I close it, watching Tommy lean over his desk, head hung low, tension present in his muscles.
"What is it with people not sticking to the plan?" Tommy grumbles, not bothering to turn around and face me.
"Some people think they know best, I guess." I say, coming up behind him and wrapping my arms around his waist, feeling some tension leave his body.
"He's my employee, this is not what I'm employing him for. I'm not paying him to fuck up." Tommy shakes his head as I press my cheek against his back.
"I know." I say, knowing he doesn't really want me to say anything, he just needs comforting and someone to vent to.
"This whole plan has gone to shit, I've spent weeks trying to perfect it, and the easiest task got fucked." He huffs.
"You shouldn't of trusted him to it, the man can't even tie a tie." I state, looking out of the window.
"I just thought I'd give him a chance, a try, whatever, but I shouldn't of." Tommy replies, lifting his head up.
"You learn from these things, got to know where you stand with the people around you." I tell him, moving my hands from around his waist to hooking under his shoulders.
"I guess, but I just expected more from him." Tommy responds.
And so I let my best friend vent some more, not just about this incident but anything that's on his mind, only replying when I feel the need to, and I think it worked because he's not all worked up anymore, the tension has dropped in his body, and he seems at peace.
"Thank you." Tommy utters, taking my face in his hands.
"For what?" I breathe a small laugh, holding onto his forearms.
"For just always being there for me, day or night, for the big things and the small things, I don't know how I could ever thank you enough." He says, stepping into my bubble, looking more sincere than ever.
"You do the same for me, that's more than enough." I assure, looking deep into his deep blue eyes. "Thank you for being my best friend."
Tommy smiles a small smile, before giving me a kiss, pulling me impossibly close to him, both of our smiles growing.
***
Glancing over towards the clock on the bedside table, seeing the time reads 6:30, I've got a long day ahead of me and I need to catch up on quite a few things as I seem to be slacking because I've been spending all my time with the duvet hogger to the left of me.
Granted it's not my house or room so I have no claim on it, but I seem to spend more time here than my own house; it feels more like home here, anyway.
Letting out a quiet yawn, I look over at Cora next to me, seeing how she's dead to the world looking effortlessly gorgeous whilst she's fast asleep. Her dark hair is splayed out on her pillow, her long eyelashes resting on her cheeks, and her bare shoulders are poking out of the duvet, with a small sun spot shining on her, and she just looks so pretty.
It feels weird not waking up next to her nowadays, it feels so natural seeing her warming up the other half of either mine or her's bed.
Sitting up, I shuffle out of bed and start to get dressed and I can't help but think of how I could get used to this.
Beginning to get ready for the day without waking up Cora, I don't bother with breakfast as I just don't have the time. Doing a once over in the mirror, I head over to Cora who's half awake to let her know that I'm leaving.
"Cora, lovie." I say softly, placing my hand on her exposed arm.
"Hm?" She hums, giving me a peak of her green eyes as she purses her lips briefly.
"'M gonna head into work now, I'll see you later on, eh?" I inform, watching her slowly wake up.
"Okay, have fun." Cora wishes, readjusting the sheet on her bare chest.
"Oh I'll try." I joke, brushing some hair away from her face with a fond smile. "I'll see you later." I tell her, planting a quick kiss on her lips.
She chuckles.
"Look at us, like an old married couple, who'd of thought?"
"Terrifying." I laugh, asking her laugh as I leave the room with a smile on my face that stays on my face until I open the front door, and as I'm walking to work I can't help but think that that doesn't sound so bad.
Leaning back in my chair, I grab a cigarette and flick my lighter against the end, quickly exhaling what I inhale before clearing my throat a little.
"I look forward to what the future holds for us, Mr Shelby." Mr Cliffo states, clearly chuffed with the way this meeting went.
"As do I, Mr Cliffo, as do I." I reply, wanting to get him out of my office as soon as possible as I've still got so much to do today.
"You've got a nice thing going on here, great business attitude, trust worthy co workers, it seems like your family really has its heart in this company." Mr Cliffo drawls, looking around the room.
"Yes, all of us here believe in this company and always want to strive closer towards our goals and ambitions." I nod, bringing my cigarette to my mouth again.
"I have to ask as curiosity has gotten the best of me, where's the woman that usually attends our meetings?" Mr Cliffo questions, and I sigh, it seems like everyone takes interest in my best friend nowadays.
She's extremely captivating and has a mysterious aura to her, Cora just has this way of drawing you in and making you want to know as much about her as possible.
"Busy." I inform, watching him carefully, how he has a ghost of smile on his face and seemingly looking back on his few interactions with her.
"I've missed her little quips and ideas." He tells me.
Widening my eyes as I let out an exasperated huff, I stand up and head towards the door, hopefully giving him the hint to get the fuck out of my office.
Which he does, so he stands up whilst doing the buttons of his blazer up, approaching me by the door.
"Pretty little thing she is." He says fondly, but not in a creepy way just a genuine compliment.
"She's certainly a head turner." I nod, not being able to deny it.
"Well, I must get going, errands to run." Mr Cliffo states and opens the door. "I'm sensing a promising future here, Mr Shelby."
"I'll look forward to it." I say, escorting him out to hurry him up.
We enter the main room where everyone seems to be, the shouting across the room and bustling noises greet us.
"Have a good day, Mr Shelby." Mr Cliffo bids and we shake hands briefly before he leaves, leaving me to head into John's office to relay some information about the meeting I just had.
"Good meeting?" John questions as I lean against the door frame.
"As good as a meeting with Mr Cliffo can go." I half joke, folding my arms.
"Still a boring middle aged fuck?" John laughs, dropping his pen.
"More of less." I confirm with a small chuckle.
I'm half way through telling John about what happened and our plans when there's a commotion on the other side of the room. I look over my shoulder and find Cora pinning Mr Cliffo against the wall with the knife that she keeps in her stockings under his chin
He looks sheepish, slightly terrified, and completely taken of guard whilst she looks dangerous, pissed off and not the slightest bit hesitant.
"What the fuck is goin' on?" John enquires, joining me in the doorway. "Fuck yeah, I love when she brings the knives out." He practically cheers for her.
"Touch me or any of the woman in here again and you won't see the next sunrise." Cora promises, and in some weird way I can't help but smile a little as she looks so natural at this.
"What's some woman gonna do?" Mr Cliffo attempts to belittle her in order to save his so called manhood.
That's not what he was saying about her earlier.
Cora sharply brings her knee to his crotch making him pale and let out an agonising groan. The impact enough to make any man wince.
"First time a woman's touched your dick in years, is it?" She taunts, pushing the knife into his skin.
He can't get any words out, clearly in too much pain.
"What? Cat got your tongue?" She all but smirks. "Get out of here before you do something you'll regret." Cora states and Mr Cliffo stumbles out of the door, no doubt planning to avoid this building for the rest of his life.
"Fucking hell, I learnt the day I met her not to fuck with Cora Witton and I'm still scared of her." John tells me, subtly interlacing his hands over his crotch making me breathe a laugh.
"Ladies." Cora grins at the women who she just protected from Mr Cliffo, and they mirror her smile.
"She may be small but she will hurt you." I comment watching her tuck her knife back in her stocking, not caring that people can see.
"No hesitation." John adds before he goes back to his desk.
"What the fuck were you thinking doing business with him?" Cora questions as she comes up to me, not mad just curious.
"We've worked with him before, thought I'd take it further." I shrug.
"And after each meeting he grabs my ass." She rolls her eyes, mirroring my folded arms.
"That's him?" I raise an eyebrow, surprised.
"Kinda." She nods, widening her eyes.
"Sorry, I didn't know, lovie." I say softly before kissing her cheek breifly. "This is why I need you in my meetings, give me honest and better judgement."
"Speaking of which, business is done and dealt with, Finn and Isiah are just finishing it up." Cora informs.
"Did it go smoothly?" I question, staring down at her.
"More or less." She nods and she's about to explain before Michael calls her over. "I'll tell you later." Cora tells me, gently fixing my tie before she heads over to Michael.
"You're close." John states, a teasing tone creeping into his voice along with the growing smirk.
"Fuck off." I grumble and leave his doorway, entering mine.
***
"Hi." Cora sings when she enters my office, an unfamiliar baby on her hip.
"Who's this?" I question, leaning back in my chair.
"My neighbour's son." She says, tucking some blonde hair behind the baby's ear.
"It's illegal to take people's children, Cora." I tell her, smiling when she rolls her eyes.
"My neighbour needed someone to watch him for like 15 minutes." She informs, sitting down in the chair opposite me, situating the young boy on her lap who's fascinated with the bracelet on her wrist.
"What's his name?"
"Ronnie."
"Is this the neighbour that complained about the noise?" I ask, with a cheeky smirk
"Yeah, I still can't look them in the eye." She bashfully answers, smiling through the pain.
I laugh as I look back on that experience, it traumatised her so much that we did all our rendezvous on my house for the next month until people started getting suspicious so we went back to her house most of the time.
"You do a lot of things, Cora, yet you can't look your neighbour in the eyes because they heard us one time." I state, amused.
"Uh, I highly doubt it was just the once." She confidently claims.
"Why don't you just move somewhere more remote?" I suggest, already knowing the answer.
"I can't! I love my place, you know that." Cora replies, readjusting Ronnie on her lap. "Isn't that right, Mr Ronnie?" She coos.
I rest my chin on my palm, hiding my smile behind my knuckles. She looks like such a natural with him and seeing her with a baby makes a weird thought come into mind and I can't help but entertain that thought.
Half of me and half of her, dear god help the child who's cursed with that.
A sarcastic and cocky bastard riddled with trauma and seemingly never ending problems.
I'm not planning on having a child with Cora ever, but the idea is entertaining and gives me an odd feeling.
She'd be an amazing mum, she would do anything for anyone that she loves, and to receive her love is one of the greatest things in the world. As I'm looking at her now, I want some of that.
I'd like a beautiful baby who's half me and half her.
"What you daydreaming about, Shelby?" Cora brings me out of the thoughts I'd never utter to her.
"Nothing." I shake my head, and try to busy myself with the work in front of me.
"In all the years I've known you, Tommy, there's always something in your head." Cora says knowingly, a teasing smile creeping on her face.
"Not true." I deceive.
"I'll find out, some day, I always do."
Not even over my dead body.
"Are you coming over tonight?" She questions, crossing her legs.
"Depends, do you want me to?" I retort, looking over at her.
"I think you know the answer to that." Cora tells me, meeting my eyes, a sly glint prevalent in her eyes.
"No?" I guess.
"Of course I do." She chuckles, her smile lighting up the room.
"Tell you what, I'll finish this in the next... 20 minutes/half an hour then we'll head over to your flat, and see where the evening takes us." I suggest, despite the fact that I still got at least a third of work to do today but this girl just does things to me.
"You and I both know exactly where the evening will take us." Cora laughs, running her hand through her hair.
"The sooner we're out of here, the sooner we can get there." I reply, sending her a knowing look.
"Sounds like a plan." Cora grins, gathering Ronnie before leaving the room.
***
"Ready?" I ask, brushing my hand over Cora's shoulder as I walk past her.
"Mhm, just need to give this to Michael." She hums, getting out of her chair to head over to Michael as I get my coat.
"Where are you two going?" Polly muses, leaning back almost smugly in her chair, a cigarette burning in her fingers.
"Home." I answer, turning to look at her.
"Early for you." Polly acknowledges, looking as if she knows something I don't.
"Maybe so, Pol, maybe so." I nod as Cora walks over towards us.
"Ready?" She questions and I nod before I guide us out of here by draping my arm over her shoulders, opening the front door, seeing its beginning to rain. "Shit, I didn't bring a coat." Cora pouts.
"I did." I smugly say, stepping outside and she tugs at the sleeves of her dress until she steps out, too.
We begin to walk the 15 minute walk to Cora's place, chatting about random things on the way, the rain only getting heavier; luckily we're sheltered by the roofs of the houses hanging over the pavement.
"No one annoys me more than my sister, not even you and you're really high up there, like too high." She tells me, making me grin, that's my favourite pastime.
"It's just so easy to do, nothing amuses me more than when you're annoyed." I chuckle, looking down at her annoyed glare and feigning pain when she punches me in the arm, watching her fold her arms to keep herself warm.
"I retract my statement, you annoy me the mos---" she cuts herself off when I drape my coat over her shoulders. "Tommy Shelby, you're so romantic." Cora laughs, a teasing glint in her eyes.
"I try." I mumble, with a small smile as we turn a corner.
"Fuckin' hell, rain's giving no mercy." She points out, and we both look out at the rain that's pelting down, making puddles and leaking through unlucky people's roofs.
Luckily we're sheltered by said roofs; for now.
Grabbing Cora's hand, I pull her out of the protection of the roofs into the rain, making her squeal and laugh which is just music to my ears as I laugh along with her.
"Tommy!" She exclaims and I pull her into my arms, pressing her against me as our hair and clothes get soaked.
"Cora!" I imitate to annoy her, as she wraps her arms loosely around my neck, bringing us even closer. I look into her eyes, seeing how carefree she looks, how much her face is lit up, the smile that always makes me weak in the knees, and how happy she looks, it makes me unbelievably happy. "Kiss me."
"What? Out in open? People can see us, rumours will spread." Cora tells me as she sweeps some soaked hair off my forehead and to the side.
"So? People are already suspicious." I shrug, cupping her cheek. "Kiss me."
She breathes a laugh before pressing her lips to mine, the both of us smiling into it.
I've never smiled as much as the time I spend with this girl.
We stand in the middle of the road, raining cats and dogs on us, intertwined with each other, more than just physically, out in the open.
Pulling back slowly, we take each other in with soft eyes and smiles, and as I'm looking at her right now, all I can feel is love.
I'm in love with my best friend.
Deeply in love.
I could call myself crazy but the way she's looking at me right now and how she's making me feel, I'd say she feels the exact same.
The words are on the tip of my tongue, aching to be said but I'm not brave enough, so I settle with kissing her again instead.
I'm scared to the bone but I'm also kind of revelling in it as it's a new feeling and fuck does it feel good.
"You look pretty in the rain."
"As do you."
***
After a successful business move that we've all been hard at work on for the past month, that called for a celebration, right? Which is why we're in The Garrison this evening, nestled in the private room full of Shelbys, Grays, and a few other Peakys including myself.
Which is predictably chaos.
"To business." Michael toasts, holding his drink up.
"To business." We all toast, clinking glasses.
"Michael, for fucks sake, you've made that toast like 10 times tonight." John groans, rubbing his forehead clearly exasperated.
"I'm a little drunk, and you keep joining so you're all as bad as me." Michael states, and there's some truth to his words.
We're all a little drunk, some more than others. Not to name names or anything but I'm definitely looking at Arthur, Finn and possibly Polly, not to mention Michael. The rest of us are tipsy, definitely feeling the buzz in our systems, but not off our face.
Although that might change as the night goes on.
"To business!" Arthur vindicates, and I groan, making Tommy chuckle.
"On behalf of my family, I am so sorry." Tommy jokes from beside me.
"What is it with you Shelbys and your liquor?" I question, leaning my head on his shoulder as I look at him.
"Born with it in our bloodstreams." Tommy tells me, brushing his fingertips against my arm as his arm is draped around the back of my part of the booth.
We're kind of in our own bubble in the corner, occasionally piping up with a quip or an opinion but we're mainly talking to each other like we've always done in these sort of circumstances.
"I assume you came out of the womb with a cigarette too, right?" I tease, crossing my legs.
"Yeah, the midwife was waiting with a match." He jokes with a small laugh, his smile staying on his face.
"I can't imagine you as a child. Of course I've known you since we were in year 9, and I'd seen you around a few times in secondary school, but to imagine you as an 8 year old is really hard." I tell him, smiling at the thought.
"Well first of all I was adorable, let's get that out of the way." Tommy states, trying to conceal his smirk.
"You still are!" I tease, earning myself a blank look.
"The ladies loved me." He continues.
"Even with your bad haircut?" I laugh, I've heard so much about his haircuts in the past that family members did for him.
"That's what brought them in, you whore." Tommy laughs which makes me laugh.
"Of course, all that extra hair just propelled these so called ladies to you."
"Exactly." He confirms as if it's obvious. "I've heard stories from your childhood from your family or partners." Tommy informs, a mischievous look in his eyes
"You know only what I want you to know."
"You're forgetting that I know every single thing about you, everything." Tommy says, nudging his knee against mine.
"I highly doubt that, every single thing? Really?" I question, nudging him back.
"Yeah."
"How old was I when I stopped hating you?" I test him, turning slightly to look at him.
"Trick question, you never stopped." Tommy answers, grinning because he knows he's right and I huff. "Yet you still suck my dick almost every night." He mumbles, making me punch him which only makes him laugh.
"I don't hear you complaining." I retort.
"I'd never." Tommy shakes his head. "Why don't we go back to your place and I'll show you how appreciative I am." He suggest, placing his hand on my thing under the table.
"Don't you want to celebrate with your family?" I question, looking over at everyone who's more or less plastered.
"Lovie, you are my celebration." Tommy tells me fondly, tucking some hair behind my ear.
This is the thing with Tommy. He can make you feel so special and make you feel like you're the only person in the room, despite the fact that it's filled with loads of people. He can set off a load of fireworks inside of you without even really trying.
"How about you meet me in the back room in five minutes..." Tommy suggests, sending me a mischievous smile.
"Sounds like a plan." I reply, matching his smile.
"I'm gonna go get more alcohol." Tommy announces, but no one's really listening, and Tommy leaves the room, leaving me alone with his family.
"I'm so glad that I never have to talk to another Bulgarian in my life." Finn says, as I tune into the family's conversation.
"What if you fall in love with one one day?" I question and he turns to me.
"Simply impossible." Finn shakes his head.
"You can't control who you love; you can lie to yourself, deny yourself of it, but it'll always be there." I tell him, sitting up straight ready to go.
"You can definitely control who you love, I can also choose who, when, and where." Finn disagrees, taking a sip of his drink.
"Okay, say you chose to fall in love with the old lady that lives next door to you. Could you do that?" I question, watching him falter as everyone chuckles at him.
"What do you know about love anyway?" Finn asks in a grumble, downing the rest of his drink.
I know a little something about unrequited love.
"I got proposed to." I retort, sending him an obvious look.
"Which you laughed at before walking away from him." He argues, with a laugh.
"Broke the poor guy's heart in front of everyone." Arthur stifles a laugh, refilling his glass.
"Who proposes after 2 years together?" I question, folding my arms.
"Loads of people." John answers, an amused look on his face.
"Shit, maybe I don't know much about love." I join the laughter almost sheepishly.
"I love being in love, it's one of the best feelings in the world." Polly states, leaning back in her chair with a dazed look in her eyes.
"Love is whenever something happens in your life, good or bad, you immediately want to tell them. When you know you can go to them for anything. Knowing you can do anything and they'll always be there for you. When they can always make you laugh, despite anything. Just feeling at home with them, basically. Love is when they're your home." Arthur despite being drunk, eloquently speaks.
My mind instantly goes to Tommy.
He's all of that.
Always has been.
"Love is never far, it's always closer than you think." Polly states, and I look over at her and find that she's already looking at me. Her eyes boring into my soul.
"The only things I love in my life is me and my flat." I announce, and get up to go meet Tommy.
"What about me?" Finn questions, looking up at me with puppy-like look adorning his face.
"Aww." I smile and ruffle his hair. "No."
Opening the door to be greeted with the rest of The Garrison that isn't closed off, I step out and close the door behind me, my eyes scanning the room. Rolling my eyes when I see Tommy talking to some guy at the bar.
He spots me as I approach him, a small smile quirking at his mouth.
"Sorry, I've got some business to attend to." Tommy excuses himself and swiftly yet subtly follows me through the room.
"Is that what I am now? Business?" I tease, as we're out of earshot from anyone around us.
"No, you're a lot more fun than business." Tommy says, grabbing my hand as we push past the doors that lead to the backrooms down the long corridor.
"I don't know, sometimes you get quite excited when things are going well." I tell him, making him laugh which resonates in this empty corridor. "Although---"
I'm cut off by Tommy pressing me up against the wall as he attaches his mouth to mine eagerly. Cupping his face, I match his pace and pull him closer as he buries his fingers in my hair and pins me against the wall with his hips.
"You're so pretty, lovie." Tommy whispers, making me grin.
"So are you." I chuckle, knowing how much he hates when I call him pretty despite the tiny blush that flushes his cheeks.
"You just love to remind me that you're my best friend, don't you?" He asks with a smile.
"Yeah." I laugh and kiss him again before Tommy begins to guide us to a more private area as our kiss begins to heat up and hands are roaming.
The door slams against the wall as we enter a storage room that is surprisingly clean, the heavy wooden door closes itself and Tommy and I stumble our way through the room as our bodies heat up until we hit a wall, I let out a breathy moan at the sensation of being able to feel ever curve and dip of Tommy.
Disconnecting our lips, Tommy dips his head to attach his mouth to my neck as I pant, beginning to fiddle with the buttons of my dress.
"Uh, Tommy? Cora?" A voice hesitantly speaks up, and we freeze.
You could hear a pin drop.
I look to my left and see Michael staring at us with wide eyes, looking scared yet too shocked to really form an opinion.
"Hi, Michael." I sheepishly greet as Tommy drops his head to my shoulder in defeat briefly.
"Has this been going on this whole time?" Michael asks after some silence, rubbing his nose.
"What are you even doing here anyway, Michael?" Tommy asks, turning to face him.
"I was uh... meeting a friend." Michael says. "Not your kind of friend though."
I look past him and see the small container splayed out on some stacked up pallets. "Friend, really?"
"Yep." He nods, inhaling sharply as he refuses to look us in the eyes.
"Not doing lines off old rotting pallets?" I suggest, putting my weight on one foot.
"To--- Who are you to judge me when you guys are fucking or whatever under people's noses?" Michael accuses, acting out. "Has this been going this whole time? You've been sneaking around for years?"
"What does it matter to you?" Tommy and I say simultaneously.
"Are guys together or what?" Michael questions, looking between us.
Tommy and I look at each other, not being able to come up with an answer.
"How does it concern you with what we do privately?" Tommy questions, looking pissed.
"I don't know about priva---"
I cut Michael off as I push him against the wall, swiftly pulling my knife out and holding I under his chin whilst I have my hand pressed against his collar. "You say a fucking word to anyone, your mum, your friends, your butcher, your fucking dentist and you'll be fresh meat." I warn as I look into his blown out eyes. "Understand?"
"Cora---"
"Understand?" I repeat, pressing the blade into his skin.
"Yes, I won't utter a word!" Michael conforms, keeping eye contact.
"Good." I grin, and affectionately clap his cheek. "Tell your mum I'll be in late tomorrow." I inform as I put away my knife before stepping back to Tommy, who runs his hand down my back and rests it on the small of my back.
"We're trusting you, Michael." Tommy tells him, giving him a stern look before we head out the door.
"Stay off the snow will you, Michael?" I suggest over my shoulder before the door slams shut.
"You're so violent, like my little weapon." Tommy teases, intertwining our fingers and I squeeze his hand lightly.
"How much do you trust him?" I question, as we walk down the long corridor.
"As long as we've got you around, I'd say 100 per cent." Tommy jokes. "As long as we don't have any interactions like that again, I'd say he's pretty trust worthy."
"Right." I nod, taking in his words. "Back to my house?"
"We're still celebrating, aren't we?" Tommy states, making me chuckle but it's short lived as I can't help but frown when he drops my hand as we enter the open again.
My heart sinks.
"Just wanna remind you that we've got a wedding next week." Tommy says and I roll my eyes.
You forget one important shoot out that's been planned for months and suddenly he has to remind you of every important thing for the rest of time.
"You didn't propose though?" I reply, gliding through groups of people.
"I didn't?" He raises an eyebrow, looking down at me with a small smirk.
"No, you didn't." I shake my head, smiling.
"Oh, shame, you look good in white."
***
"Well Arthur, the big day's come." I say, as I flip my collar up to put my tie on.
"Indeed, it has indeed." Arthur nods, taking a seat on the large ottoman in the middle of the room.
"Our Arthur's finally settling down, eh?" John smirks as he looks in the mirror to do his hair again.
"God help Linda." Finn grumbles, slipping into his blazer.
"Already is." John widens his smirk.
"I don't see any of you getting married so fuck off." Arthur replies, disregarding John.
"To be fair, he's got a point... god can only do so much." I state, tightening my tie and putting my collar down.
"Oi, you can barely keep your woman on the reigns." Arthur retorts, pointing a finger at me, as the others snicker.
"I've not got a woman." I reply although I know who and what they're talking about.
"You know, the girl you're always around." Arthur tells me, and I huff with a small smile at their tomfoolery.
"You mean the girl who punched you and you practically cried when she was like 14?" I ask, pulling my cigarettes out.
"She'd fucking kill you if she knew you were talking about her like this, Arthur." Finn says, smirking.
"Even if she were my so called woman, not that you'd ever be able to make her conform to that title, she cannot be owned. Not just because of feminism but she's too wild for that, she'd also punch me and that hurts." I state, lighting my cigarette.
"I think it's the other way 'round." John muses, gesturing with his cigar. "She's got you on the reigns."
"Have any of you lot seen Cora?" Polly asks as she bursts into the room, dressed in a fancy dress.
"No."
"Not seen her all morning."
"Not seen her since this morning."
"Me either."
"Fuck sake. She can do everything but turn up on time." Polly grumbles, shaking her head. "Well come on then. Time's getting on and the bride won't wait forever."
We all exit the room one by one, following Polly through the building but we stop short when we see Cora stepping into the entrance hall, looking up at the ceiling as she lights a cigarette, showcasing the thin but long scar on her throat that gave me nightmares when it happened.
"Shelbys!" She beams when she sees us, taking a drag of her cigarette, looking temptingly appetising.
"What time do you call this, Witton?" Polly barks, sending daggers Cora's way.
"There's plenty of time! Don't worry about it." Cora waves Polly off but all I can focus on is how good she looks.
Her dress has a few layers of thin, see through tulle with flowers embroidered into it, the underneath is a champagne sort of pink coloured dress that shines through subtly, the length sinks all the way down to her feet, it's cinched in at the waist with a controversial slit at the side showcasing her leg, and her sleeves are made of the same see through tulle that hangs off her shoulders to tickle her elbow in waves. Her hair is pinned up with a handful of thick curls dangling around her face, and her make up is subtle which really makes her green eyes pop.
She looks like an angel to put it simply.
"Careful, you'll catch flies." John smirks, elbowing me.
I push him back making him knock into Finn which causes him to start an argument.
The art of diversion.
"Nice dress." I comment when she looks over at me.
"Thanks, it has pockets." Cora replies, giving me a demonstration.
"Thought it was supposed to be the bride who's the prettiest today." I state quietly as no one seems to be listening to us.
"Aw, you're too kind." She smiles before pecking my cheek and guiding us towards the church.
***
An around of applause and cheers resonate in the tall church as Arthur and Linda kiss, I can't help but smile at the happy couple.
"How long?" Tommy jokes when he mumbles into my ear.
"Stop!" I laugh, continuing to clap.
"We're married!" Arthur announces as he and Linda turn to face everyone with grins.
Another round of applause goes around the room, mixed with whistles, hoots, and cheers. Arthur and Linda walk down the aisle as a newly wedded couple before everyone slowly begins to follow them for photos outside.
"I can't imagine you getting married." Tommy states when we stand up.
"I'm hurt, Thomas." I reply, shuffling out of the pew.
"You seem too... independent and strong." Tommy digs himself a bigger hole.
"What? So the point of marriage is supposed to break me?" I question with a chuckle.
"No, just the traditional way is that you'd stay at home, looking after the children, cooking or baking, and waiting for your husband to come home." He answers. "And that's not you... but I like that about you."
"I'm never stopping for some man, men don't deserve rights." I shake my head.
"Oh right." Tommy laughs, slinging his arm around my shoulders as we walk down the aisle. "I guess you work with a lot of males so you can say that."
"Thank you, for letting me, a woman, know what I can say and what I'm allowed to say, thank you husband." I joke and he bumps his hip against mine in response.
"The nagging wife part though, you've got that down." Tommy replies, weaving us through people as I lace our hands together with the hand that was dangling in front of my chest from where his arm is draped over my shoulders.
"Fuck off." I laugh, the fresh spring air hitting my face as we enter the outside, gathering at the back of the large group of people posing for photos.
"You love it." He grins before pressing a kiss to my cheek as I laugh.
A flash blinds me momentary, and I inwardly groan.
A few more photos, Tommy and I trying to annoy each other, and laughs later and we head off to the party.
***
"I've known Arthur since I was like 15, it feels weird to watch him get married after all this time." I tell a stranger that I've been talking to for the past 10 minutes.
"I've grown up with Linda, I've not heard the end of this wedding since she was 10." Linda's cousin makes a joke which I fake laugh at, before taking a sip from my flute of champagne. "Are you getting married anytime soon?"
"Oh, no, god no." I shake my head, chuckling.
"Really? Aren't you with Arthur's brother, what's his name? Thomas is it?" She questions.
"Tommy? We're not really together, well we aren't... Thomas is amazing but..."
"But?" She smiles warmly as if she's just done something.
Why aren't we together is the better question, Tommy is everything I've ever wanted, he respects me, makes me feel like I'm more special that I am, is always there for me no matter what, and can make me feel so carefree, I'm in love with him but he's just not.
"But he isn't one for relationships." I answer. "I'm gonna go annoy some of your family, you make me think when I'm here to get drunk. I don't like that."
Her smile falls and I float off towards a group of strangers, ready to judge.
"I heard that the Shelbys shot someone who accidentally bumped into them once." A middle aged man says quietly.
Perfect, this is the group I want to annoy.
"Really? I heard that they give their children guns." A little younger woman matches his tone.
"That's nothing, I heard that they stab children who beg." I cut in, doing this big exaggerated look around the circle.
"I heard that they hurt people who gossip." Polly comes out of no where, and I can't help but smirk at her when she meets my eyes.
"Are you two Shelbys?" A snooty woman questions with a sigh before sipping her drink.
"No." I answer, which isn't a lie.
"I'm Arthur's aunt and she's his brother's girlfriend." Polly states and I glare at her, before tucking my hair behind my ear and subtly flipping her off, which she suppresses a smirk at.
"Oh, I see. You seem like lovely people." Another woman replies with a tight lipped smile.
"We are." I nod.
"If you stay on the right side of us." Polly adds, lighting a cigarette.
"But if you don't, we'll drag you through hell."
"Simple really." Polly shrugs lightly.
"Of course... we're family now, nothing but love." The same woman replies with a nervous laugh.
As Polly makes them more uncomfortable I look over my shoulder at Tommy across the room, who's sitting at a large table with a few people but I don't think he's interacting with anyone really, cigarette and liquor in hand. He gives me a wink which makes me smile, and he gestures for me to come over with a nod of his head.
Leaving the group and Polly, I cross the room all the way to my best friend who takes a drag from his cigarette as I stand behind him and wrap my arms around his shoulders, letting my hands dangle above his chest life a necklace.
"Are you done antagonising Linda's family?" Tommy questions with a tiny chuckle.
"Not yet. They're so judgy." I reply, accepting Tommy cigarette when he offers it to me.
"Where do you think Linda gets it from?" He rhetorically asks.
"You look very pretty." I inform, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead when he looks up at me.
"If I look pretty you must be the prettiest person in the world." Tommy says, fiddling with my hands.
"Always a charmer you Shelbys." I tease.
"Eh we know how to talk the talk." He jokes, squeezing my hand. "Do you wanna dance?"
I look out at the dance floor where all the couples seem to be, it's a little bit crowded but seems comfortable.
"Sure." I nod and Tommy stands up before offering his hand with a boyish smile.
I match his smile and take his hand, Tommy leads us to the dance floor where I place my hand on his shoulder, keeping the other comfortably in his hand, whilst Tommy places his hand on my lower back. The song is quite a fast paced one, so there's no room for a slow dance.
Tommy and I expertly shuffle through the dance floor, him twirling me out every now and then, as we talk and laugh. "Why are old ladies so judgy?"
"I don't know, their better days are behind them and they can't get over that." Tommy offers an amused suggestion.
"I think it's because they---" I cut myself off with a squeal when Tommy surprises me by twirling me out into the dance floor making me laugh. "Give me a warning next time!"
He just smiles down at me as he looks into my eyes. "No, I like making you laugh."
"You always make me laugh, especially with your questionable choices." I tease, squeezing his hand. "I mean what were you thinking letting Finn---"
"I'm not going into this again, he wanted to do it and who am I to say no?" Tommy replies with a light laugh. "That would make both of us a hypocrite."
"We were more mature at the time..."
"Oh really? That's what you call maturity?" Tommy questions amused, as we swiftly move through the crowd as the song begins to end.
"We may have broken a few things but there's no harm done." I state, letting Tommy spin me one last time before a slower song comes on and we match our dancing to the rhythm.
"Sure, no harm done." He mocks me with a laugh, which makes me laugh.
Thomas sways us through the bunches of people as we lapse into a comfortable silence, settling into our own worlds.
"I think I'm falling in love with you, Cora." Tommy tells me, continuing to sway us as he looks deep into my eyes and it feels like he's looking into my soul.
All I can do is smile.
"Yeah? You think?" I chuckle and he matches my smile.
"Mm." He hums, with a nod.
"That's alright, because I think I'm falling in love with you, too." I reply, causing him to break out into the biggest smile.
We pause our moving, standing still amongst all the other couples dancing. Tommy cups my face with his hands and goes to kiss me. "What about your family?" I question, when were mere inches away.
He smiles. "Fuck 'em, they all practically know anyway."
I reply by closing the gap between us, kissing my best friend in the middle of the dance floor as couples dance around us whilst we're stood still, in the midst of his brother's wedding. Tommy's thumb brushes my cheekbone gently as we stand in our own bubble, oblivious to what's going on around us, smiling into our kiss.
"I love you, Cora Witton." Tommy utters, pressing his forehead against mine with a smile.
"I love you, Tommy Shelby." I utter back, kissing him again which makes my toes curl.
"What do you say we finish this dance, get a little drunk, and then go home?" Tommy suggests, tucking some hair behind my ear. "If you can handle Linda's stare that long that is because from where I'm looking, she doesn't look that happy that we stole the spotlight from her on her wedding day." Tommy chuckles, looking over my shoulder at his family.
I look over at them too, seeing how they look shocked yet look like they expected it, and I meet Linda's glare, happy at how I've pissed her off.
"You're such an attention whore." I joke, looking back at Tommy.
"You know it." He smirks and begins to sway us again.
It feels like everything I've ever worked for in my life has led up to this moment. This is what I get after years of struggling, and fuck is it worth it.
"I want this song to play at our wedding."
"Oh, we're getting married now are we?" I chuckle fondly, liking the sound of that.
"If all goes to plan, yeah."
474 notes · View notes
sgtjbbhasmyheart · 4 years
Text
Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter One
Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 2101
Chapter Warning: Bad Language Words, tiny bit of angst
A/N: I started this on AO3 awhile ago. Now that I have a blog dedicated primarily to just Marvel/Bucky, I thought I’d add it here, too. Enjoy!
DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission.  
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Bucky heard his phone buzz as he was tugging a butter-soft tee over his head. He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand next to his bed as he worked his arms into their respective holes.
9:36
Steve was long in bed already, so the text most likely wasn’t from him. Sam was on a me me kick-- No, what did he call them? Memes!-- of a disgruntled cat which he swore reminded him of the super soldier. He wouldn’t be surprised if it were him. Or possibly Nat. She picked up the new issue of Guns & Ammo the other day and was sending him pictures of a Mossberg MC1sc 9mm she was drooling over.
Smoothing the body of the shirt over his torso, Bucky ambled over to his bed. He snatched up the phone from the navy blue comforter and flipped it over. To his amazement, the text wasn’t from Sam or Nat. Or even Steve.
(917) 460-5480 work thing boring af. kinda tied one on. might be late meeting you tomorrow
He blinked several times at the message, uncertain how to respond. It was a wrong number, right? Bucky hadn’t made plans with anyone for tomorrow that he could remember. Plus, everyone he knew had the same work thing. And it was rarely boring.
Definitely a wrong number.
He set the phone down near the clock, choosing to ignore the text. Hopefully, whoever this person was, figured out quickly they were texting the wrong number and moved on.
Bucky pulled back the covers before climbing into bed. His body melted into the mattress, muscles relaxing for the first time since breakfast. Training had been non-stop all day today. It felt good to just be, for once.
He grabbed the book he was reading off the nightstand and opened it to the spot he left off. He cleared his mind, as best he could, and concentrated on the words on the page.
A few pages in, his phone vibrated alive again. Another text message.
(917) 460-5480 sis dont be mad youd be drinking too if you had to sit thru one of these business dinners
Bucky sighed. He had hoped his radio silence would have clued this person into their mistake. Wishful thinking. Before he could punch out a reply, another text came through.
(917) 460-5480 timmons is droning on about this new client. kill me now
He quickly typed out a reply:
(917) 308-3117 I think you sent this to me by mistake.
Bucky watched the text indicator pulse as this unknown person worked out their response.
(917) 460-5480 haha very funny sis
Bucky huffed at this person’s disbelief, thumbs working on typing out his next message.
(917) 308-3117 I’m not trying to be funny. I can’t be someone’s sister when I’m a man.
He set the phone down on the nightstand again, hoping this person finally took a hint. He opened his book back up to the current page, taking a deep breath.
The room’s silence was broken again by the loud thrumming of his phone skittering across the surface of the black wood veneer.
(917) 460-5480 how does kevin feel about this so close to the wedding???
(917)460-5480 will you still need a wedding dress or will you just get a tux???
(917) 460-5480 am i still your maid of honor???
Bucky chuckled at this girl (no, young woman) asking the essential questions.
(917) 308-3117 Your sister did not get a sex change. Yes, she will still need a wedding dress. Yes, you are still her maid of honor. Like I said before, wrong number.
An almost immediate reply came through.
(917) 460-5480 prove it
Bucky grew slightly irritated at the insinuation. Why couldn’t she take his word for it? He exhaled loudly through his nose.
(917) 308-3117 How?
A few moments passed before the device juddered in the palm of his large hand.
(917) 460-5480 selfie
Bucky blanched at the request. He could feel the color drain from his face, only to immediately heat with a blush. A selfie? That is the last thing he wanted to do.
Although he’d been exonerated for his crimes as The Winter Soldier, he still knew about the dislike people felt about him as a person, in general. They couldn’t get past the brainwashing or other persona. God knows he still struggled with it.
He couldn’t go broadcasting his face through texts to a stranger. What if she was one of those who didn’t understand he had no say in what he did or what happened to him under Hydra’s control?
What if he ignored the solicitation? He could do that. Maybe even turn off his phone.
She did seem the type to be very persistent until she got what she wanted.
True to form, another text rang through.
(917) 460-5480 i will keep texting until i see your manly face
One corner of his lips quirked higher. Yup, persistent.
He navigated to the camera app on his phone and switched it to selfie mode. He stared at the damp locks falling to his shoulders. His beard would require a trim soon, but it wasn’t scraggly. Luckily, he’d had the hindsight to shave his neckbeard in the shower earlier.
Was he considering this? Some girl says jump, and he asks how high?
He combed metal fingers through his hair, blowing out a breath.
(917) 460-5480 im waiting
Bucky growled at the text, running a hand over his face. “Okay, okay. Give me a second,” he said to his phone. He held it up to head height, half an arm’s length away.
Click!
He previewed the picture, assuring himself it didn’t reveal too much. It was, somehow, off-center, containing a bearded chin and half a smirked mouth, one nostril, and a half-lidded eye.
Before he could talk himself out of it, Bucky pulled the messaging app back up and then sent off the picture. He tossed the phone aside, not wanting to watch the taunting blinking dots as he waited for a reply.
The picture was barely recognizable, but someone like Steve or Nat could tell it was him. It would be okay. No one would know.
His phone vibrated violently near him on the bed. Bucky cautiously plucked the device up, debating whether he wanted to read her reply. What if it said, “Holy shit! You’re The Winter Soldier!”? The hope of this woman thinking he was just some regular guy knotted up his stomach. He didn’t know why he cared so much about whether this stranger thought he was The Soldier or not. He had no control over who believed the lies perpetrated as truth through the media. He could only wish for the best.
He blew out the breath he was holding in and eyed the phone’s screen.
(917) 460-5480 is it fair to say men shouldnt be allowed to have long eyelashes??
Bucky laughed and immediately thought of poor Steve.
(917) 308-3117 You should see my buddy’s. The girls swoon and complain at the same time.
He quickly added to the message thread:
(917) 308-3117 Am I correct to assume you believe I’m a man and not your sister?
The response was swift.
(917) 460-5480 oh shit ur not my sister
(917) 460-5480 this isnt 9173083447?
Bucky laughed again, the tension in his chest slowly unfurling.
(917) 308-3117 Unfortunately for you-- no.
(917) 460-5480 ugh im such an idiot sorry for the shit i said
(917) 308-3117 Don’t worry about it. I had a good laugh at your expense.
(917) 460-5480 oh god now i feel like a bigger ass
Bucky suddenly felt like backpedaling. He hadn’t meant for her to feel bad about her mistake. It was cute in a roundabout way.
(917) 308-3117 Please don’t be embarrassed. It was the highlight of my night.
(917) 460-5480 me forcing u to prove ur a man was the best part of ur night??
Bucky thought for a moment. Was it the best part? The training sessions had become monotonous lately, even with the new agents. The team hadn’t been on any missions in a few weeks, so it was pretty accurate to say he was bored around the compound.
(917) 308-3117 I suppose it was. Work’s been a little slow, and there’s only so much training you can do before it becomes tedious.
(917) 460-5480 training? r u in the military? ooh, r u an athlete??
A laugh bubbled up from his chest. It was comical to see her try to guess his profession. His selfie hadn’t announced who he was to her after all.
(917) 308-3117 Something like that.
(917) 460-5480 so mysterious! r u some assassin who needs to keep his identity secret? is that y ur selfie only showed a quarter of ur face??
He paled at the implication. Maybe she did know and was yanking his chain. How did he block numbers again?
Another text came through from the mystery woman:
(917) 460-5480 not that i mind u have a luscious mouth
Bucky guffawed at the comment as flames rose beneath the skin of his cheeks. He hadn’t remembered blushing this much in such a short amount of time in decades.
(917) 308-3117 How much have you had to drink tonight, doll?
(917) 460-5480 doll?? what r u my grandpa??
He chuckled again. God, he was old enough and then some.
(917) 460-5480 enough to not want to shoot my brains out but not enough to know this dinner isnt a party
(917) 308-3117 Maybe you should get back to your dinner? I don’t want to get you into trouble.
He regretted the text the second he pressed send. Was he trying to get rid of her? No. Or was he looking out for her? This person he knew nothing about. She was more entertaining than the recurring nightmare he’d been having for the last week, that's for sure. He'd cling to this unknown to avoid slipping into that black abyss.
(917) 460-5480 aww does the military-trained assassin athlete mchottie not want to talk with me anymore?? 🙁
(917) 308-3117 No!! I’m honestly concerned you’ll be reprimanded if you pay more attention to your phone than Timmons.
The last thing Bucky needed was to feel more guilt, especially if it was at the expense of someone’s livelihood. His shoulders were already heavy enough.
(917) 460-5480 thats sweet but dont worry ur pretty little head over me timmons wouldnt last a day w/o me
(917) 460-5480 timmons may be the boss but i run that office
He simpered at her swagger. He could only imagine what kind of office she worked in because, again, a total stranger. Did he want to get to know her more, or was this a one and done thing? Would she wake up tomorrow and want to continue the conversation or blow him off for the drunken mistake her first text had been?
Bucky stared at his phone for several more minutes, pondering precisely what he was doing and what his expectations of the night were. It’s not like he was going to meet her in person, right? Was he that delusional? He was an Avenger now. He didn’t get a social life. Not that he had one before but still.
He was startled from his reverie as the phone shook in his hand.
(917) 460-5480 did i scare you away??
(917) 308-3117 No. Just thinking about tomorrow.
(917) 460-5480 shit a military-trained assassin athlete mchottie must have a lot to prepare for mentally ill let u get ur rest
He smiled at the gesture. If only she knew.
(917) 308-3117 Send me a text when you get home. I want to make sure you arrived okay.
(917) 460-5480 such a gentleman! i don’t want to wake u if ur asleep tho
(917) 308-3117 I doubt I’ll be sleeping, but it’ll help ease my mind.
(917) 460-5480 alright ill shoot a text ttfn
(917) 308-3117 ttfn?
(917) 460-5480 ta ta for now god u r a grandpa
(917) 308-3117 Yeah, yeah
Bucky’s mouth split into yet, another grin as he set his phone down once again on the nightstand. He picked up his discarded book and found his place on the page. After a few minutes of re-reading the same paragraph over and over, he slipped the bookmark into the gutter of the book. His mind was too preoccupied with the thought of some random girl in the city at a boring work dinner. He realized he hadn’t stopped smiling since they temporarily said goodbye.
Maybe there was a good chance this conversation would carry into tomorrow.
CHAPTER TWO
195 notes · View notes
jessbakescakes · 3 years
Note
J/D: things you said with too many miles between us
15) Things you said with too many miles between us from this post!
A present-day Josh/Donna fic for you!
July 2021
Josh stirs when his phone vibrates, and he orients himself to his surroundings. He’d fallen asleep on the couch at some point during the post-debate coverage after ensuring that the girls went to bed, and he was waiting on Donna’s phone call to debrief. Josh attempts to reach into his pack pocket to retrieve the vibrating phone. He manages to do so without stirring the dog, whose head is resting on Josh’s chest as she sleeps, letting out barely audible barks and huffs as an ndication that she’s dreaming.
“Hi,” Josh answers, his free hand moving to gently stroke the fur on top of Sadie’s head.
“Hi,” Donna parrots back.
The sound of her voice still makes him feel butterflies, even after twenty-three years of knowing her and almost fourteen years of marriage. He smiles to himself at the thought, taking another moment to realize exactly how lucky he is. “It’s quiet,” Josh notes. “Thought you’d all be celebrating.”
“We are. I just wanted to call you first so you could get to bed.”
“All the post-debate coverage is calling it a standout performance from Senator Sam Seaborn,” Josh notes. “I’m not surprised, but they sounded a little stunned, although I’m not sure why.”
Donna lets out a quiet laugh, and he has a clear vision in his mind of her leaning against a wall, smiling and looking down at the floor as she grins. “Sam did an incredible job. He was probably the most prepared out of all of them when it came to healthcare and social security. Foreign policy needed a little bit of work, but…”
“But he ran away with it,” Josh finishes. “Donna, you don’t have to be modest. I know what a big part you played in this.”
“Sam worked hard,” Donna insists.
“Of course he did,” Josh agrees, “but you worked just as hard, if not harder.”
“You’re right. I did. I think this is a turning point. It's still early, and we're narrowing down the Democratic playing field but... you know.”
Josh does know. He doesn't say anything further, so as not to tempt fate, as Toby would put it, but he absolutely understands what Donna's hinting at. Josh stretches and yawns, trying not to let on that he’s as tired as he is. “I let the girls stay up for the debate, but they’ve been in bed for the last hour or so.”
“I was going to ask you how they were, considering the only updates I’ve received in the last twenty-four hours were dog photos. I was beginning to wonder if you remembered we had daughters,” Donna teases.
“Well, our eldest is going through a Taylor Swift phase,” Josh starts.
“She knew the words to what was likely Taylor Swift’s entire discography before kindergarten, and you’re just now realizing this?”
“Songwriting,” Josh clarifies.
Donna lets out a half-laugh, half-groan. “Is it the kid from marching band again? Or… still? I don’t know which is the most accurate way to finish that sentence.”
“I think it would be 'again', but nope. Apparently, this is just your run-of-the-mill preteen self-expression stuff.” Josh shifts slightly as Sadie lets out a low growl in her sleep, kicking her front and back paws as though she’s dreaming of chasing something. “I think I heard the same chord progression on the guitar for about six hours straight today.”
“Excellent, looking forward to it,” Donna says.
“Nora spent her morning drafting a plan to convince me to get another dog,” Josh starts.
“Absolutely not,” Donna interjects before Josh can finish the sentence.
“I told her no!” Josh laughs in disbelief. “I do have some willpower, you know. Then she decided she wanted to start a dog walking business, because if she earned the money for the dog maybe it would sway me.”
“I’ve only been gone twenty-four hours, please tell me Leah hasn’t asked for a piercing or declared a college major,” Donna jokes.
Josh scratches Sadie behind the ear. “She asked me to take her to that little used bookstore so she could spend her birthday money.”
“How’d she fare?”
“She currently has two stacks of books in the corner of her room as she debates whether she wants to spend the rest of her money on another shelf or trade in some other books to make room,” Josh explains. “She also considered using the money for a custom Mets jersey with her name on it, but decided against it.”
“Too expensive?”
“No special characters,” Josh says. “She didn’t like the way Moss-Lyman looked without the hyphen.”
“I’d ask how Sadie is, but I think I know exactly how her day went thanks to your efforts,” Donna says.
“I’m but a humble servant of man’s best friend,” Josh jokes. He’s noticed something in Donna’s tone as the conversation has unfolded, the hesitant ‘we need to talk’ undercurrent of everything she says, so he decides to be the first to dive in. “What’s on your mind, Donna?”
Donna sighs. “So I was approached by Bryce Palmer from the DNC today. Apparently, there’s something brewing with Congressman Hanover and some allegations of impropriety.”
“Hanover? Like the Wisconsin fifth, Hanover?”
“The very same,” Donna confirms. “Problem is, they don’t have a viable Democrat for a special election should he resign. So they came to me to take my temperature on the whole thing.”
Josh can’t help but let the wheels in his brain start turning. The idea of Donna flipping a typically Republican district in Wisconsin sounds incredible. If anyone’s capable of it, it’s Donna. But he’s learned over the years to let Donna process before giving an opinion, so instead of rattling off all the possibilities, he simply listens.
“I told them I’m running Sam’s campaign right now,” Donna explains. “But they really want me to consider a run in the fifth next go-around. Or… you know, should there be a special election sometime between the general and the midterms.”
“You thinking about it?” Josh asks.
He hears Donna take a deep breath, then let out a long exhale. “A little? I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet. Don’t start your ‘Donna, I’ve been setting this up for you for years’ speech,” she warns.
“Wasn’t gonna. Just listening.”
“I know you’d be at your laptop searching for properties in the Wisconsin fifth right now if Sadie weren’t asleep on you,” Donna says. “I can tell if you put me on speakerphone, you know.”
Josh sheepishly taps the speakerphone button, putting a temporary pause on his search that he had already started, just as Donna had predicted. “You’re not on speakerphone.”
There’s a pause for a moment, and Josh can sense her hesitation. “Flipping a district is a lot of work.”
“It is,” Josh agrees.
“I also don’t know if I’m ready to jump right into another campaign after this,” Donna continues. “It’s been a lot of time away from all of you. If I stay away too much longer, Caroline’s going to become a YouTube sensation whose material is almost entirely inspired by the absence of her mother. Nora’s going to be running an animal shelter out of the garage, and Leah will have either a Beauty and the Beast sized library or a podcast with her Grandpa Jed, it’s a toss-up.”
“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?” Josh asks, holding back laughter.
“I’ve been away a lot,” Donna insists. “Things change while I'm away. I miss all of you.”
Josh smiles. “We miss you, too.” He has the instinct to tell her not to dismiss the idea out of hand, to give it some thought before she gives her answer. But despite her hesitation, Josh knows there’s a small part of Donna that’s considering it, and that’s enough for him. “Get back to the party. We’ll talk about it when you get home.”
They say their goodbyes and I love yous after confirming Donna’s flight details. Josh wakes the dog and heads up the stairs toward the bedroom, already plotting out the strategy for winning in the Wisconsin fifth.
Hypothetically, of course.
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harryssunflowerkiwi · 4 years
Text
‘KIWI’ Part 2.
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Pairing: Harry Styles x female reader.
Synopsis: You see Harry again. he’s still smitten and you’re horny.
Word count: 8.1K
Warnings: swearing, drinking, drugs (cocaine; mentioned in some detail), and SMUT (unprotected! Wrap it up pls), and slight pain kink. 18+
A/N: Hello! I hope you’re doing good :) here’s part two!!! Yay!! Thank you to those who liked part one. I truly am having so much fun writing this. Sorry it took me 80000 years to post this, I took a break! But it’s here and I’m so happy. Also, this is my first time writing smut! So please be nice but let me know what you think. Again, please keep in mind that this is PURE FICTION and is in no way an accurate dipiction of Harry Styles! It’s just for entertainment purposes. Also! For the purpose of the story, please pretend kiwi was not part of HS1 and instead part of his third (unwritten) album :) With that being said, i hope you love this part as much as I do xoxo
PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU LIKE IT :)
🥝 Outfits mentioned in this part 🥝
Words underlined are links !
PART 1
——————————————————————————
September 12th 2020~
It’s nine days since Harry had met you, nine long days. For him the days since have been filled with long studio hours and sleepless nights. Every night he’d come home and wonder when he’d get the chance to meet you again, he’d think about what you were doing and if you were thinking about him as much as he’d been thinking about you. Surely you hadn’t, he thought. If you had been interested you would have given him your phone number, like all the other girls had jumped at the chance to do. He tried to stay humble, but he wasn’t oblivious to the effect he had on women. It was obvious, atleast it always had been before. They all threw themselves at him, but you didn’t. You didn’t even give him a proper excuse to why he couldn’t have your number. You showed him very little interest and yet, here he was completely infatuated after one simple meeting. Sure, meeting you gave him enough inspiration to write songs which was initially the reason he went to that party. But it only left him wanting to do whatever he could to get the chance to see you again.
The days since the party have been rather stress filled for you on the other hand. With London fashion week coming up in less than a week you had so much work to do. You had a fashion show on the seventeenth to prepare for and dozens of custom outfits for various celebrities to finalize. It was both exhausting and exhilarating. You had thought about Harry, he’d pop up in your head whenever a song of his would play in the office or in the coffee shop you went to almost everyday. You felt the spark when you two had met, of course you did. He was incredibly attractive, charming, and kind but you didn’t have time to be dating a celebrity of his stature. You have a buisness to run and the last thing you need a bunch of insanely nosey fans bullying you along with the heartbreak of the inevitable break up.
Harry was sitting in the studio with Mitch, Sarah, and Charlotte recording. The three of his band mates were in the booth recording their respective parts of a song Harry had written a few months back called “30,000 miles” while Harry was sat on one of the black leather couches just outside the booth attempting to write. Although he’s been able to write a lot about you, he’s only gotten one song even remotely close to being finished. Most of what’s he’s writin since meeting you has come out more like journal entries about how your eyes made him quiver and how when you hugged him he felt like your touch was exactly what he’d been missing thus far. It all sounded like a horny fourteen year old, Harry thought. He needed to see you again for his feelings to repourpose themselves into more coherent emotions. Harry had been wracking his brain on how to make that happen since the two of you met, and the only thing he could think of was to ask Jeff. The only problem with that, however, was that Jeff would more than likely tell you and make Harry look desperate. And even though he was bordering on desperate, he certainly didn’t want you to know that.
Harry was lost in thought (about you of course) when Mitch came out of the booth and sat in the dark blue velvet armchair directly across from Harry. “Still having trouble dude?” He asked sympathetically bringing Harry out of his little trance. Harry sighed and moved his gaze away from the small leather bound notebook he was writing in to focus on his friend.
“S’ just hard man. S’neva been this hard before.” Harry said as he closed the book.
Mitch nodded and mumbled “it’s probably because you’ve never been single while tryna write”. Harry put his palms over his face and let out deep chuckle.
“Fuck, you’ve go’ a good point” he agreed as he sat lower into the couch.
“Are you interested in anyone at all right now? I mean I don’t think I’ve seen ya single for this long in forever” Mitch pointed out as he reached for his water bottle from beside the sound board. Harry sighed deeply, ran his right hand through his curls and gave Mitch a little pout.
“Who is she dude?” Mitch asks with after letting out a loud laugh at his friend being overly dramatic.
“Y’ remember y/n? The designer fo’ KIWI?” Harry responds, leaning forward and rests his left palm under his chin.
“Fuckin hell H. Wasn’t that night the first time you met her?” Mitch says with a grin, obviously teasing Harry.
“I know, I know. S’fuckin ridiculous but I can’ stop thinking about her” Harry replied as he slouched himself back into the couch shoved his black raybans off the top of his head so they were sitting on his nose, covering his embassment.
September 13th 2020~
Today is Sunday, which means it’s Harry’s day off. He didn’t really know what to do with the day but he was still extremely happy to have time to relax and try (and fail) to not worry about everything. He woke up at ten this morning, actually allowing himself to sleep in to make up for the various all nighters he had been pulling throughout the last week. He dreamt of you but not in the way he’d want, not one of those erotic sex dreams where he could make all his needs come true. No. In his dream you were with someone else, and he kept trying to talk to you but you couldn’t hear him or you were simply ignoring him. Either way it didn’t feel good but for some ungodly reason he’d still woken up with a raging boner. “Fuckin ‘ell even the thought of her wit’ someone else gets me off” he grumbled with a groan in frustration as he rolled out of bed.
As Harry was making himself breakfast, chopping yellow grape tomatoes on the large oak cutting board that sat on the marble counter next to the stove, he heard his phone ring. He looked around to try and spot where the ringing was coming from as he’d forgotten where he’d put it. He spotted it on the island behind him and to his left. He sprinted over to it and quickly answered with his left hand, wiping the tomato juice off the fingers on his right hand off on his blue sweatpants. “Harry here” he said realizing he hadn’t checked to see who it was before answering.
“Harry! I’ve got great news for you mate” Mitch’s deep American accent rang through the phone.
“Wha’ is the good news Mitch?” Harry asked as he sat at one of the light blue quilted stools that sat at the island, suddenly feeling slightly anxious.
“I’ve just found out KIWI is doing a show for London fashion week, it’s this Thursday” Harry could practically hear the grin on Mitch’s face through his voice. A fashion show? How could he get an invite four days before the show? Would he even get the chance to see her if he did? Won’t she be busy? Won’t she think he’s weird for going? Harry’s mind was filled with questions he knew Mitch wouldn’t have the answers to.
“Dude?” Mitch’s voice snapped Harry out of his panicked thoughts.
“Gotta go man, thanks for telling me” Harry mumbled before hanging up quickly.
After a few hours of debating with himself and trying tirelessly to forget about the idea all together, Harry found himself sat at his dining table with his phone open to Jeff’s contact. He stared down at the phone resting against the mahogany wood dining table trying to convince himself this was a bad idea. However, his efforts were in vain in the end. He glanced at the time in the right hand corner and it showed 12:41AM. He pressed the call button so quickly he himself even doubted if he’d done it at all, but evidently the calling screen came up and he brought it to his ear. Letting out a huge sigh at the forth ring, figering Jeff wouldn’t even pick up at this time of night. “Hello?” Harry almost dropped the phone when he’d heard Jeff’s voice on the other end.
“Um h-hello, Jeff s’ Harry” he stuttered slightly, still not really believing he was going through with this.
“Yeah H, I know. What’s up?” Jeff chuckled loudly.
“Oh umm so you uh know y/n right?” Harry asked trying not to seem to eager.
Again, Jeff laughed a bit before saying “you like her don’t you?”. Harry groaned internally at his friends ability to gudge his feelings based on his voice alone.
“Doesn’ matter, was jus’ callin’ to see if you could get meh a seat at the KIWI show on Thursday” Harry said as more of a statement rather than a question, feeling his confidence peak its head again.
“H, that’s in four days” Jeff responded without hesitation.
“Yeh I know, I jus’ ave’ to be there alrigh’?” Harry asked as politely as he could without making it obvious he was trying desperately to avoid any further questioning.
“Alright, I’ll see what I can do”.
September 14th 2020~
Today was incredibly busy for you. There were only three days till your show and you still had so much to do to make sure it would be perfect. You were currently at the office that you rent out for KIWI. The space is nice, modern and open with a slightly acclectic feel to match your taste. There were 3 separated offices, the smallest was for your assistant Grace, another for the head of public relations for the company who’s name is Gretchen, and the largest one at the end of the hall was yours. You decorated nicely, but kept it minimal as to not cause to many distractions. You only came in when there was issues you couldn’t deal with from home or when you just felt like getting out of the house to work. You liked to keep your company small, only hiring people who you really trust for jobs you couldn’t handle yourself. Even though KIWI is incredibly successful, you were generally able to manage it with little help.
At 7:13AM you arrived, greeting Grace and heading straight to your private office telling her to follow you. Once sat in your large brown leather chair Grace started giving you the rundown of who’s called, what there is to do, shipments, etc. “Jeff Azoff called early this morning, he left a voicemail asking for your availability. I told him to call back at 11 just before you go out for lunch as that is your earliest availability today” she relayed as she stood nervously (she was pretty much always nervous, even though she’d been working for you for over two years).
“Okay, did he mention what it was about?” You asked wondering what he could possibly need that he wouldn’t just call your cell.
“No, but he did say it’s urgent” Grace responded with a small nod.
At a quarter to eleven your desk phone rang, you picked up at the first ring already sitting right next to it typing out an email on your laptop. “Mr. Azoff on line 2” Grace said on the other side.
“Great, thanks Grace” you responded before hanging up and switching to line two. “Hey Jeff” you said as you closed your laptop.
“Hi! How’s it going y/n, haven’t talked since the party” he asked seeming quite cheery.
“I’m good Jeff, why are you calling through KIWI? Why not just call my cell?” You questioned rather confused.
“Ah because you told me not to call your cell for matters concerning KIWI-” he said as if it was obvious.
“Right, but you you’ve only ever called regarding KIWI to get pieces for one of your clients and you usually go through Gretchen” you cut him off, still extremely confused.
He chuckled before saying “Well If you’d stop cutting me off I’d tell you why I’m calling. I need a front row seat for your show on Thursday”. Well, that was certainly not what you thought he’d say. He’s never asked for a seat at one of your shows, let alone a front row three days before it happens.
“What? Are you insane? It’s in three days. Why on earth would you need a front row seat?” You asked, now even more confused.
“It’s not for me, it’s for Harry. C’mon I know you can bump someone back a bit, it’ll be good publicity having him there” Jeff said calmly. You had to do a bit of a double take when he mentioned Harry’s name, why would Jeff need him to be there this last minute? He had surely already been invited to the Gucci show on the same day. You sighed
“I don’t know, the people I put in front row deserve to be there. Any of them would take it as an insult to be put in second row”. You heard hum quietly on the other side of the phone
“y/n if you put Harry upfront it’ll be good for KIWI, you know I’m right” he continued. You let out a frustrated huff, you knew he was right. The paps would have a field day with him missing the Gucci show to come to yours, but you already had so much to deal with.
“Was this your idea or his?” You asked, genuinely curious. “He asked me to, but I think it’s an incredible idea for both of you” he said confidently.
“Fine, call Grace to set up the details. I’ll have an outfit sent to Harry by Wednesday morning just email me his measurements. He can’t be showing up to my show in Gucci” you replied sternly, giving in.
Harry was at the studio when Jeff called him. He was going over some adjustments for ‘30,000 miles’ with Kid Harpoon when his phone rang. “Jeff! Any news?” He said hopefully after picking up as soon as he was Jeff’s contact.
Jeff chuckled at the boys eagerness “Mhm you’re lucky I’m so good at convincing people, you’ve got a front row seat at the KIWI fashion show this Thursday” he said proudly.
Harry stood out of the leather rolling chair instantly and yelled “Wooooo!” Slightly starting Kid and causing Jeff to laugh through the phone.
“I’m glad I could get it for ya H. They are sending over an outfit for you to wear and I’ll have a car at your place on Thursday at 6PM sharp to pick you up.” Harry smiled widely, taking in the information as he sat back down.
“Thank ya’ Jeff, y’ the best manager eva’”
September 17th 2020~
Today is the big day. Of course it’s not your first runway show but the nerves never lessen, every time it gets more intense and nerve-racking. The cloths you design are your heart and soul, your blood sweat and tears, your everything. This makes showing them off to critics and the entire world terrifying but exciting. Not to mention you’ve decided to walk as the last model for the finale, which makes the whole thing even scarier as you’ve never really walked a runway as a model.
For some reason the knowledge that Harry was going to be front row made you all the more anxious and you hated it. No man has ever made you nervous at your own damn fashion show, it’s rediculous. “I don’t even like him” you said aloud to yourself as you were in the car on the way to the venue. Luckily by now your driver knows well enough to keep his mouth shut when you talk to yourself.
Once you arrived at the venue it was half past two. You always show up hours before the show to help set up, get all the outfits in place for the respective models and make sure everything is absolutely perfect. You’d spent months designing the way you wanted the show to look, clothing aside. The catwalk is all white, ensuring that all the colors included in the collection pop as they were meant to, especially once photographed. Above the runway are large fixtures that are meant to look like clouds, giving the whole collection an airy out-of-this-world feel. Which is exactly what you had planned when designing it.
Backstage was hectic and stressful, as it always was. The models all arrived at three, giving everyone enough time to get hair and makeup done in time for the show. The makeup and hair you had chosen for this collection was simple, yet bold. Nothing to extreme to not take away from the clothes.
Harry was incredibly excited for the show, more excited than he had been for a fashion show since the first one he attended. He was there to see you, but he was also elated to get to see the collection. He’s never been disappointed by the pieces you’d designed. Even before his newfound crush on you. You were exceedingly talented and fantastic at what you do, he’s known that since long before he met you. The suit you’d sent for him was breathtaking to say the least. He absolutely adored it. It was a black suit, with gold lining and silver flower embroidery all along the jacket. It made him feel like a billion dollars.
Harry arrived just before the show started, not to seem to eager in case you came to survey the venue before it started. He found the seat with his name on it and grinned widely as he sat. His seat was right at the end of the runway where the models would turn before walking back. It was the ideal spot really, and it gave him butterflies thinking that you gave him the best spot. The venue was nothing like he’d ever seen before and he was sure you had something to do with that also, because it was breathtaking.
Time went by like a blink of the eye for you, what seemed like twenty minutes turned out to be an hour. You were ushered to the hair and makeup chair to prepare for the finale. For some reason all your nerves had dissipated, completely vanished into thin air as you sat and listened to the makeup artist compliment you on how incredible everything looked.
After forty minutes in the hair and makeup chair you were being dressed. You had chosen one of the only gowns in the collection for the finale, wanting to go out on a memorable note (even though you considered every piece in the collection to be memorable). The gown was a floor length fully hand embroidered black and gold gown. Each embroidery was done by you. It had long sleeves with the same detailing and it was sinched perfectly around your waist with a large solid gold plate. The gown was the piece that inspired the whole collection, taking almost six months to make. You were very proud of it and you felt incredibly sexy.
As your stylists were putting you in your black pumps, one of the coordinators came over and said “miss y/l/n is on in five”. You took a deep breath, attempting to mentally prepare yourself. You followed the coordinator towards the entrance to the catwalk. You felt eerily calm, you knew you should be freaking out but you weren’t. You felt incredible.
“3..2...1.. here comes y/n for the finale”
Harry was thoroughly enjoying the show, each item was completely perfect. Everything was cohesive but wildly different, anyone with working eyes could tell how much thought and attention to detail was put into everything. Even the styling was uniquely perfect, each model wore the pieces like they were made for them. Not a single thing looked out of place, everything belonged in a rabelious harmony and Harry was completely enveloped in it. The music stopped playing as the last model walked out, Harry looked around as another song started playing. Assuming this was the finale, Harry sat up straighter and grinned. Excited to see whatever you had planned. As the beat dropped in the song, all the models came walking out in two lines. One on the right and one on the left. Once the two front models came to the end of the catwalk they all stopped and slowly bowed their heads. Harry’s heart was beating so fast he thought he might actually have a heart attack. Then all of a sudden you walked around the corner and stepped onto the runway and Harry’s heart stopped completely. You were walking towards him like you had walked a million runways. You looked so powerful and sexy. The gown you wore was nothing short of breathtaking, a fine piece of art and the way it fit your body made all the blood rush towards his crotch.
As you reached the end of the catwalk you looked directly at Harry, who was sitting right night to the main camera. You gave him a quick knowing smirk, obviously seeing the pure shock on his face as you turned around and started walking back towards the entrance. God, you felt fucking incredible. Each model followed you one by one off the runway before the music stopped.
September 23rd 2020~
The last three days went by relatively fast for you. The show went exactly how you wanted it to and it was nothing short of perfection. All the press had been incredible and the critics were being positive which wasn’t always a given. There’s been a lot of buzz about the gown you wore, in fact, there’s word of the national art museum of London wanting to showcase it which is unbelievable. All your success has been skyrocketed, even from what it was at before. Having Harry at the show helped with the media buzz, they always went crazy when he was around but it did start rumours of the two of you dating. Especially after the pictures from the show were released and it was very obvious he was staring at you in such a way. You didn’t really care though, all publicity was good publicity.
It was Wednesday today, and you decided to work from home this week because you were still pretty exhausted from all the work you’d done in preparation for the show. Your day had been relitively slow, answering emails and drawing out some new designs for spring. You were sitting at your desk drawing out a coat design when your phone started ringing, you glanced at it and saw Glenne’s name pop up. You smiled lightly and picked up up.
“Hello?” You greeted her.
“Hey y/n! How are you?” She asked cheerily.
“I’m great G, just finishing some work. How are you?” You asked as you sat back in your chair.
“Great! So the reason I’m calling is because Jeff and I wanted to throw a party for you to celebrate the show. Obviously we need you here for that” she giggled, obviously excited.
“Aw of course I’ll come. What day is it?” You asked.
“It’s Friday night! It’ll be at the Hilton hotel, just give them your name. We’d like everyone to be there at nine if possible” she responded.
“Okay! I’ll be there at seven babe” you said as you stood up to look in your fridge, suddenly feeling hungry.
“Harry will be there” Glenne said knowingly, slightly drawing out the end of his name. You laughed as you shoved a slice of cheese into your mouth.
“And?” You asked.
She giggled again, “he’s been asking about you a lot lately, and we all saw him at your show. You two are obviously fucking” she said in a mocking tone.
“G! We are not. He’s just obsessed with me” you chuckled, rummaging through your fridge for more snacks.
“Oh stop, who isn’t? Plus you guys would be adorable together!” She responded loudly through the phone.
“G, he’s the relationship type and I’m so far from that, you know this” you said sternly.
“Y/N you don’t even know him, how do you know he’s the relationship type?” She asked giggling at your tendency to assume you know people immediately upon meeting them.
“I’ve heard his music, G. Anyways, I’ve got to go make something to eat before my stomach eats itself. I’ll see you Friday”.
September 25th 2020~
As soon as Jeff told Harry about the party they were throwing for you he was ecstatic, knowing he’d get a chance to actually speak to you. Since it was a celebration of you and KIWI, Harry decided to wear some of the pieces he owned that you designed. It took him about 30 minutes to decided on which of your designs he wanted to wear, hoping you would appreciate the gesture. Jeff had already assured Harry that he wouldn’t be the only one wearing KIWI at the party when he brought up the idea to him, which made Harry feel more comfortable. Eventually he decided to wear a two piece set you’d designed last season. It was Harry’s favourite. It was a long sleeve button up shirt and long perfectly fitted trousers, both made out of a beautiful sparkly blue fabric with a light contrast stitching. 
Upon arriving at the hotel Harry noticed that there were many cars parked out front and all down the street, way more than there had been at the last get together. He assumed it was because you would have invited more of your circle this time, as they were celebrating you. Harry made it up to the penthouse where the lady at the front desk had told him to go, and was greeted at the door by Jeff, quickly giving him a hug and ushering him into the large room. “Sorry I’m a little late, had some issues with m’ car” Harry apologized to Jeff with a small smile, both of them fully aware that he was indeed late because he takes so long to get ready.
“S’all good man, it’s just getting started” Jeff chuckled lowly as Harry followed him through the foyer and into the large open living room, where it seemed most of the party goers were. It was a pretty busy, around 80 people from what Harry could see. Through the crowd his eyes landed directly on you. You were talking to a small group of people, some of who Harry recognized. You were sitting on one of the big couches on the right side of the open space, you were slowly nodding while sipping from a glass of dark brown liquid. You were wearing a gold sparkly jumpsuit that hugged every inch of your torso in the most flattering way possible and flared at the from the knee down. Half of your wavy hair was effortlessly pinned back with a brown claw clip. You looked so beautiful, you stood out in the crowd of other beautiful people. Your energy and vibrancy completely overpowering the room.
As soon as Harry entered the living room with Jeff your attention was taken away from the group of friends around you. You immediately noticed that Harry was wearing one of your personal favourite designs, and you could tell he had spotted you aswell. As if he was looking for you, he smiled widely as you made eye contact. “Excuse me guys, I’m going to grab another drink” you smiled at the group before standing up and walking across the living room diagonally towards the open concept kitchen to the left of the living room. You purposefully glanced at Harry as you walked passed him with a cute innocent smile.
As soon as you entered the kitchen and bar area you felt someone behind you, you turned on your heel being met with Harry a few feet behind you. “Ello love” he greeted you with his deep English accent, “congratulations on the show, ‘t was incredible” he complimented with a genuine smile on his soft pink lips. You smiled back and slowly looked him up and down, observing his body in your design.
“Thank you, Harry. I’m glad you liked it. Lovely choice by the way” you said as you motioned towards his outfit with your hand.
“T’was hard too choose which one to wear if I’m ‘onest” he replied with a low chuckle as he stepped towards you a bit.
“You made the right choice, it’s one of my favourite designs I’ve done” you complimented as you leaned against the large marble counter, placing your almost empty drink on it “fits your body perfectly” you continued as you met your gaze with his again.
“It does doesn’t it?” He asked cheekily as he pulled at the top a bit with his ring clad hands. “Y’ look incredible, love the jumpsuit” he flattered as he moved about a foot closer, leaving only a few inches between the two of you.
You smirked “so charming” you replied as you gently touched his cheek while holding strong eye contact. You could feel his heart beating against your arm. You stared at each other for a few more seconds, almost as if you were having a conversation solely through eye contact.
“You need a drink” you smiled as you let your hand fall from his face and you spinned around as you made your way over to the bar.
Harry was completely stunned as he watched you walk over to the large bar, quickly grabbing all the ingredients for whatever drink you had decided he should drink. Being so close to you only moments before made his mind blur and his heart race. How could you just walk away when it seemed as if you were about to kiss him? Most people would jump at the chance. But he assumes most people would also jump at the chance to kiss you, he certainly would. He was taken out of his thoughts by your sweet voice. “Harry” you called for him from the bar, his name sounding like heaven coming out of your mouth like that.
“What’d ya make me love?” He asked as he walked over to you. You held out a glass filled with dark brown liquid and a single large ice cube in it.
“A Manhattan, it’s my favourite” you blinked sweetly at him, the sides of your mouth tugging up at the sides as he grabbed it mimicking your smile before taking a sip and making a face as though he’d just taken a shot. Your smile grew.
“S’very strong love, but good” he assured you.
“Mmm what’s the point of a drink if it’s not strong enough to burn” you replied, not as a question but rather a strong statement again hitting him with that beautiful stare. You picked up your own drink (the same as the one you’d made for him) and said a quick “cheers” before downing most of it. Harry was about to say something but was quickly inturrupted by a group of people entering the bar area.
The group consisted of a few people Harry knew, immediately recognizing Lizzo, ASAP Rocky, Gigi and Bella Hadid but there were a few others with them he didn’t know (or atleast didn’t recognize). The smile on your face grew into a wide grin as Bella squealed and said your name, engulfing you in a bear hug. “Bells!” You giggled lightly into her shoulder before releasing from the hug.
“The show was incredible Y/N. You’re a fucking genius” she praised as she walked behind the bar, still smiling widely.
“You walked in it love” you reminded her, giggling as you went to greet Rocky. The two of you hugged tightly before releasing, Rocky’s hands going up to cup your face.
“You killed it baby, just like you always do” he said as he kissed your nose. You could feel Harry’s eyes burning into the side of your head as he chatted along with lizzo.
“Mm thank you Rocky, you know you’re my muse” you grinned wider as you kissed both his hands in appreciation.
Harry couldn’t help but watch your interaction with Rocky, you seemed so comfortable, so intimate. Harry felt a pang of jealousy run through his stomach at you calling Rocky your “muse”. He brushed it off with a clearing of his throat as he turned his attention back to lizzo. “You good H? Uh oh. Y/N made you one of her manhattans didn’t she?” Lizzo laughed loudly looking down at the drink in his hands before hitting Harry’s shoulder playfully, the question bringing your attention to them.
“Hey! My manhattans are world renowned Mel” (Lizzo’s real name is Melissa) you said proudly as you took a few steps forward, closing the distance between you and the couple. You pulled Lizzo in for a hug “m glad you came” you said as the two of you pulled apart.
“Of course! The collection is legendary as per” she replied genuinely. You thanked her and gave her a kiss on the cheek before turning your attention to Harry.
“If you’ll excuse Harry and I, Mel. He was just about to escort me outside for a smoke” you informed her, all well making full eye contact with Harry.
“Mhmmm you two have fun, come get me for shots later”
Harry followed you outside onto the large open balcony, watching you greet people on the way, doing the same if he knew the person. As soon as the two of you stepped outside Harry watched you take a deep breath, tipping your head back slightly to take in the fresh air. It looked almost erotic, even though it was just a simple action it made all Harry’s senses tingle. “How do’ya know Rocky?” Harry asked seemingly out of nowhere, it almost shocked himself. He knew he tends to get jealous rather easily, and maybe even a little possessive but usually it only comes out with people he’s exclusive with, not a women he’s never even kissed. And yet, there it was. He tried to sound casual but worried he failed terribly. You turned your head to him with a slight smirk before licking your lower lip and chuckling slightly.
“Oh, we’ve known each other for a long time. Met him at a party when I was first starting out” you said nonchalantly before grabbing a pack of cigarettes off the small table that sat on the deck. Harry nodded, understanding that you were in no way going to give away the nature of yours and Rockys relationship.
“I listened through your album again this morning” you admitted, effortlessly changing the subject back to him while taking a long drag of the cigarette you had just lit. Harry tried his best to hide the grin appearing on his face as he stared at you,
“did ya?” He asked waiting for you to continue your thought.
“Mhm. Listened to it in the shower” you hummed, as you leaned forward against the railing in front of the two of you, taking in the view and breaking eye contact.
The thought of you listening to Harry sing while completely naked in the shower made his skin feel like it was on fire and all his blood rush down to his groin. “What’s y’ favourite song?” He asked, leaning his back against the railing right next to you and looking down at your face. You looked up at him and hummed in thought.
“She” you said with a thoughtful, almost devious smile before standing up straight and putting out your smoke.
“Let’s go do shots, yeah?” Harry nodded with an amused smile as you grabbed his hand and pulled him back into the hotel.
Four shots and two hours later Harry found himself sitting on one of the couches to the right side of the open living room, watching you dance along with your friends in the middle. You looked so free, so careless, so magical. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you, trying to listen to whatever Jeff was trying to tell him to his right. “You’re not paying attention are you man?” Harry heard Jeff ask through a laugh as he followed Harry’s eyeline straight to you. Harry pried his eyes away from you to look at Jeff
“sorry mate. I’m listenin’” Harry told him, not really trying to be convincing.
“She’s an actress y’know. Not literally, but she knows how to get what she wants, she always has. But she’s got a good heart, just be careful alright?” Jeff said to him, patting his knee before standing up and walking over to glenne who was stood at the other side of the room.
Harry sat, watching you as he went over what Jeff had said to him a few moments ago. “She’s an actress”. Did he have to be careful? You didn’t look dangerous, but you did scare him a little. Not because he thought you’d physically hurt him or anything, but he knew if he’d let you, you could dig deep into his already fragile heart. Break it, possibly like it hadn’t been before.
Harry was brought out of his thoughts by seeing you turn your body towards where he was sitting, breaking yourself out of the group of friends that surrounded you. You made eye contact with Harry and motioned for him to come to you with your perfectly manicured right hand. You weren’t smiling, but he could see a glint of something he thought was amusement in your eyes. He got up and walked over to you. “You motioned fo’ me love?” He asked as he approached, a small smirk apparently on both your lips.
“Mhm, come” you said as you offered him your hand. He took your small hand in his as you ushered him through the growing crowd.
The two of you walked all the way through the living room, and passed the kitchen before entering a smaller room to the left of the kitchen. As you entered Harry took in his surroundings, it appeared to be an office space. There was a glass table in the center of the room with a large plate decorated with multiple lines of white powder on it, along with three chairs; one blue velvet and the other two grey of the same material. There were a few other people in the room, but Harry didn’t recognize them. “Some privacy please loves” you said aloud, asking them to leave Harry and yourself alone in the space. The strangers immediately obliged when they saw you, muttering greetings as they exited. You turned around to face Harry who was standing only slightly behind you.
“do you fancy a line Harry?” You asked, your hand coming up to touch his shoulder lightly.
“S’ a party innit?” He agreed, making you smile all too innocently given what he was agreeing to was quite the opposite. You walked over to the plate of narcotics, picking up the metal straw from beside it before holding it up to your nose. You bent over the table, flipping your hair over to the right side to make sure it didn’t get in the way as you breathed in deep through your nose inhaling a thick line of the powder. Harry watched as you stood up straight, tipping your head back and inhaling through your nose to make sure you got it all. You let out a cheery giggle before holding the straw out to Harry. He took it and did the same.
Just as Harry stood up straight you gently carressed his left cheek, staring into his blown out pupils. “God, you’re somethin’ else” he spoke just below a whisper, only loud enough for you to barely hear. He brought his large ring filled hand up to your waist as your hand fell from his cheek to his neck. He applied pressure to your waist encouraging you to move so your bum was pushed against the glass table. Once you obliged he moved even closer to you so your noses were practically touching, his hand moving to smooth itself over your back to hold you in place.
“Can I kiss you?” He asked, his voice much lower and more raspy than it had been. His eyes filled with desperation and lust. Instead of responding you giggled lightly and pulled him in by his neck, connecting your lips. The kiss was slow and messy, but filled with an undying passion. Your left hand squeezed his neck slightly, egging him on as one of his hands went to cup your jaw while the other one steadied on your waist. You opened your mouth slightly, inviting him in which he immediately took advantage of, sliding his tongue into your mouth. Both your lips were slightly numb from the coke but it did nothing but intensify the feeling. He tasted like whiskey and peppermint, making your head dizzy (in the most incredible way). You let your hands drop down to his waistband, slowly untucking the button down from his trousers and beginning to undue the buttons. Your eagerness made a low groan erupt from the back of his throat, feeling his boner growing rapidly at your touch. You broke the kiss as you finished unbuttoning his shirt, both of your breathing unsteady. He watched as you ran your hands up his torso slowly before pushing his sleeves off his wide shoulders. You made eye contact with him as he went to kiss you again, you stopped him shaking your head. You bent your head down slightly and licked his chest, starting from the top of his butterfly tattoo and ending just under his jaw. The feeling driving Harry completely insane with lust, goosebumps appearing all over his body as he let out a throaty moan
“y’ drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy” he said as you came up, standing up straight.
“Sit” you spoke, pointing at the large blue velvet chair next to you, not breaking eye contact. You could still hear the booming music and people taking from the other rooms as you watched him sit. You turned around so your back was facing Harry as you undid the tie that held up the top part of your jumpsuit letting it fall down, exposing your entire torso and back.
You heard Harry mutter a low “fuck” as you turned around and positioned yourself on top of him, successfully straddling his lap.
You could feel the exceedingly large bulge through his pants pressing against your crotch as he began kissing down your neck and towards your breasts causing you to moan slightly.
“Please Harry” you said breathlessly, giving him some control as you began slowly grinding back and forth against him.
“Tell me princess. Tell me what ya want” he raspily requested as he gripped onto your hips with both his hands, guiding your movements.
“I want you to fuck me harry, I want you to use me” you said still grinding against him while looking down slightly into his eyes as he stared back up at you. Without hesitation he lifted you, firmly holding onto your bum as he stood up and set you down on the table.
“Lift up love” he ordered, you leaned back on your hands and lifted up for bum so he could pull down the remaining part of your jumpsuit. After discarding the material to the side, taking your nude pumps along with it, he took a moment to take in your practically naked body. You grinned widely at his reaction as he began to grope your boobs, once again connecting his lips with yours. You reached your hands down to undo the button of his pants, using your skilled fingers you got them down in record time. You looked back up at him to see his eyes already staring at you. You placed your hands on either side of his face while his still ran along your nude body.
“Please Harry, I need your cock” you whispered seductively causing his whole body to go into overdrive.
He quickly pulled down his already undone trousers and boxers before sliding your peach coloured thong to the side, feeling your dripping pussy with his index finger and letting out an animalistic groan. You watched as he grabbed his large dick with his left hand, lining himself up at your entrance before turning his gaze back to your face. You both held eye contact as he entered you. The feeling completely overwhelming both of you, you leaned your head back, gripping roughly onto his back as you both let out a strangled moan. “Fuck” you moaned “you’re so big”. Your words egging him on, he picked up his pace pumping in and out of you slow but rough. He kept his focus on your face, watching as you moaned his name and praised him. You looked like a complete wet dream, your eyes barely open, your head tilted back as you stared at him through your eyelashes refusing to break eye contact.
“Good girl.... y’ take me so fucking good” he moaned, his ringed fingers digging harshly into your hips as his grip tightened. You lifted your head and moved your hands to his neck pulling him in closer so that his face was not even an inch away from yours.
“Harder Harry, fuck me harder” you moaned, completely out of breath. He started pounding into faster, all the sounds of the hectic party just outside completely drowned out by the sound of his balls slapping harshly against you and your shared moans. You finally broke eye contact when you leaned your head to the side and began leaving messy wet kisses along his jaw before meeting his neck with your mouth. You bit down roughly onto the skin of his neck earning a throaty moan from him. You licked over the spot you’d just bitten, soothing the pain a bit before he pulled your head back, balling your hair into his fist so you would look at him.
“Dirty little princess y’ are... leavin’ marks on me” he growled into your mouth before rejioning your lips to his and continuing his relentless pace with his hips.
You could feel your orgasm approaching rapidly, the overwhelming tingling travelling all throughout your body, all your senses becoming increasingly clear. “Y’ gonna cum fo’ me love?” He asked as he felt your walls becoming even tighter around his shaft. You nodded rapidly.
“Such a good girl... s’ fuckin tight” he said in between breathless moans.
“Cum fo’ me princess, I wanna feel you” he repeated, moving his right hand from its place on your waist to rub your clit, matching the pace of his hips. You could feel it happening, your vision blurred, your toes curling, your legs shaking rapidly as you dig your nails deep into Harry’s black, holding on for dear life.
“Fuck, Harry. Fuck” you repeated over and over as you came hard around his thick cock.
“Fuck Y/N, y’ gonna make me cum” he moaned into your neck as you held onto his shoulders.
“Cum for me harry, please” you whispered in his ear between moans of your own. You could feel his body start to weaken as he twitched inside of you, about to cum. You wrapped your legs around his hips tightly and pulled him in closer as he let out a loud raspy moan. You felt thick ropes of cum shoot deep inside you.
Once he came down from his high he kept his head rested on your shoulder, your arms and legs still wrapped tightly around him, both of you desperately trying to catch your breath. After a few seconds you both released, your legs falling down beside his as he stood. You made eye contact and you giggled lightly making him smile boyishly. Both of your hair a complete and utter mess, breathing heavily, and completely naked. The plate of cocaine that once sat on the side of the table was now shattered on the floor. “Your insane” Harry said before he laughed looking around the room, really taking in everything that happened. You laughed with him as you hopped off the table and walked over to where he had thrown your jumpsuit and shoes.
“I’m going to assume you meant that as a compliment.” You said as you pulled your jumpsuit up over your nude body.
“F’ course love. You’re a fuckin minx” he complimented as he buttoned up his shirt.
“You’re not so bad yourself, Harry” you shot back with a quick wink as you finished putting you shoes on.
End note: Ahh thank you so much for reading!! I’m kind of nervous about posting this, so please let me know what you thought! I’d seriously appreciate it. And if you liked it please please reblog :) I know the ending is kind of abrupt but it’ll make sense in the next part. Also, there will be ANGST coming up !
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lunammoon · 4 years
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The Problem With Hetalia (As told by someone who actually in the fandom until like, 2016)
I'm hoping this post will explain to people who are still into Hetalia why a lot of people have an issue with from the perspective of someone who knows a lot about the show. 
TL;DR: By making the WW2 axis powers come across as a lovable idiot, his serious friend, and the stoic voice of reason, it downplays the serious nature of what the Axis did and seeing as the real-life Axis harmed real-life people, many people have a justifiable huge issue with this. 
I will go more into depth about this under the cut.
A lot of people are talking about how Hetalia is coming back after 5 years and a lot of people are rightfully annoyed at the show. But what I'm seeing is that a lot of the people who are upset are people who clearly haven't watched the show and therefore are unable to explain to people who have watched it why it’s bad. The most that you hear is:
"it glorifies the Axis Powers" (which isn't 100% accurate although the assessment that they are portrayed in a way that makes them seem less bad is accurate) 
"Hetalia Cosplayers wore Nazi uniforms in front of a Holocaust memorial" (which I'd say is more of an issue with fans than the show). 
That is not to say that there isn't an issue with the show, because there really is. But these observations are unlikely to mean much to someone who watches Hetalia. So, in this thread, I'm going to explain why Hetalia is Problematic with the added context perspective of someone who was into the show during most of middle school and until Freshman year of high school. 
I knew the human names, used to jam to "Always With You" and "Pub and Go" and “It’ll Settle Itself Somehow” and “Light my Heart” and “Absolute British Gentleman” and “Mein Gott” and “World Rondo” and “Excuse Me, I’m Sorry” and so, so many more. 
I lost my shit with everyone else when the season 6 ep dropped and Italy danced like he was possessed by a demon. When I hear “ACE” family, I don’t think of Youtubers. I actually took a side on the FruUK vs UsUk debate and if you look in my archive, you can probably find some Hetalia posts that I’m too lazy to delete.
The point here being, I’ve actually seen the show so I know what I’m talking about. This isn’t an outsiders perspective is what I’m saying.
So, let’s get right into it. While technically only seasons 1-2 are officially actually called "Axis Powers" (Seasons 3-4 are called "World Series" Season 5 is "Beautiful World" and Season 6 is called "World Twinkle") WW2 and things relating to the Axis Powers are an important part of every season and appear prominently.
While Hetalia has covered many things from all different time periods, the two most common periods covered are the modern-day and of course, the second World War. The show is Japanese and (I assume) because Japan was on the Axis side, these portions focus more on the Axis Powers of Italy, Japan, and Germany. The Allies do come into play. And while the Allies aren't directly like, evil, which would've been FAR WORSE they've got a kind of Team Rocket-esque thing going on? They're not exactly mustache-twirling villains but they're clear antagonists. Make no mistakes.
I think the deserted Island arc is the best example of the problems many people have with the show.
Take for example, that beach fight. If you've watched Hetalia, you'll know the one I'm talking about. The one that they reused like, 50 times. The Allies are clearly shown as the antagonists/aggressors while the Axis are literally just vibing on a (kinda) deserted island and defending themselves. 
Now, if this was three dudes chilling on the beach and they suddenly got attacked by another five dudes also on the beach who they then fought off until the five attackers ran away that’s be one thing.
The issue is that this is supposed to be a representation of WW2. It's basically saying "oh, Nazi Germany, Imperial Japan, and Fascist Italy were literally just vibing, not bothering anyone when suddenly, the Allies attacked for no reason. Luckily, they (the Allies) retreated because the Allies are Cowardly but they keep coming back and bothering them,". Do you see the issue there? Most of the beach arc seems to be the writer forgetting that these are supposed to be Nations, not a random Italian dude, a German dude, and a Japanese dude.
“Oh, but they don’t glorify Nazi Germany. They don’t really even talk about what Germany was doing! Look at this pic of Germany in a lab coat holding a dandelion :)“
That’s not the defense that you think it is and it’s actually a main part of the issue that I, and many other people have with Hetalia.
I think the scene where this issue is the most obvious is the one where they are gathering around a campfire and talking and one of them comes up with the name "the Axis". The whole scene has the same energy characters in a moe anime coming up with a band name.
They’re sitting on a beach at night. I think there might’ve been a campfire, the stars are out, and the three of them talk about their dream of making a world that revolved around them. One of them comes up with the name “the axis” and then they all talk about how you would translate "axis" in their language. It’s all very found family-esque. The way the scene is framed is to encourage you to route for them to reach their goal. It’s the same kind of tone you’d see in a shoujo with a girl telling her friends about how she wants to win the singing competition no matter what or in Sword Art Online when Kirito talks about saving Asuna.
The issue is that their goal isn’t to win some competition or to save someone they care about. It’s to spread facism, imperialism, and bring about genocide.
There of course don’t SAY that that’s their goal, and outside of a one off line in the English dub that’s been since censored, they don’t really bring up what Germany was up to during WW2 vis-a-vie the Holocaust and if they did bring it up, I either wasn’t paying attention, it was in the manga, or it was in one of Germany’s character songs.
The issue is that during WW2 the show seems to at best forget and at worst, gloss over it that the main trio that they're focusing on are the villains. And not like, fantasy villains. Actual real-life villains that hurt real people in the real world. Imagine if instead of Ludwig Beilschmidt and Feliciano Vargas, it was Adolf Hitler and Benito Mussolini. 
Are you seeing the problem yet?
I get why people like to watch the show. Ignoring the WW2 bits, it’s actually pretty good. I, as an American, really like Alfred F. Jones and the way he’s portrayed.
If Hetalia had stuck to non-WW2 related things such as that episode where the nations all talk about how horror movies differ in their nations, or they talked about their Christmas traditions. Or the ones where America and Japan are roommates. Or when they showed that time when America airdropped XL condoms on Russia labeling them as "small" for intimidation reasons. Or that series of episodes where they talked about Micronations. Or that time they all had to come together to fight aliens. Or the bit where they talked about the WW1 Christmas Armistice. Then it would be fine.
The issue is that they didn’t.
If they kept WW2 stuff for SOME reason. They had two options. 
Make the axis as proper villains
 Be explicit in showing that the nations will doesn't reflect what their leader wants. 
The first option wouldn’t be ideal if they wanted to cover any time period other than World War 2. The axis would be too unlikable and I doubt that an anime where Japan is the villain would appeal much to Japanese audiences.
But what about the second option. Have a bit where Ludwig is passing out White Rose pamphlets or smuggling people to safety.
Have Kiku (Japan for people who don’t watch Hetalia) purposefully looking the other way as Sugihara writes visas to get people to safety and covering for him against his boss. SOMETHING!
But instead of doing either of those, they took the bad third option which was, their choice to instead make the axis seem like likable individuals who are a group of three good friends who work together will in contrast with the “bumbling Allies” who are barely cohesive and constantly fight and argue. At best, makes it seem like both sides had a point and at worst, makes it seem like the Axis was a better than the Allies.
All of this is to say that liking Hetalia does not make you inherently a bad person, but you need to be more critical of what you watch and understand that there is a reason that some people have a genuine issue with it and they have a very good reason for that. You can still watch it the show, but do keep this information in the back of your brain as you do
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flowervolcano · 3 years
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It’s finally time I sat down and just wrote this whole thing so I can get it off my chest and maybe help flesh things out for the majority of the fanbase.
Black Widow Spoilers are upcoming, scroll past if ya don’t wanna be spoiled.
Let’s start with “Hello, I am a Tony Masters fan, I adore him and his personality and generally everything about him, of course I am going to be upset that his character suffered such poor writing and adaptation, because it was insulting and gut punching to see a character you love be poorly executed.“
continue reading please because I’m trying to be reasonable here and share what a majority felt when viewing Black Widow (it may differ from yours but I hope it enlightens a few who may be confused or whatnot about this topic, generally it’s how I feel the fanbase as a whole had been handling it poorly)
quick side note, no one wants to feel their opinion doesn‘t matter, so be mindful the next time you fight someone just because you disagree, I love debating and talking so you can come at me if you disagree, I like educating myself on these things too in case someone can bring up actual arguments that prove their side and reasoning, on the other hand if I hear one more “it’s because she’s a girl huh?” I might very well scream.
Is it bad because he turned out to be a woman? Why is this the first thing that gets debated??
Let me explain just how annoying it is that this is the debate whenever it cuts down to it.
The answer is yes and no, I will explain why, because I don’t believe the gender should always matter to a character.
Although everything great about Tony was stripped from him, all of it, only the title “Taskmaster“ and I guess the color scheme if you will, stayed the same, it would’ve been the same trash written character even if he wasn’t a girl, because they had no personality no resemblance of the beloved character in the first place, which is why it is a bad idea to have changed him into a woman, why you may ask?
it’s the image, it creates an idea that women cannot be as great as men, that a female version of Taskmaster would just suck, be terrible and useless, it paints Antonia to be bland plot device character to show Black Widow‘s pain and suffering. The character herself has no substantial personality or drive, nothing, she’s just a victim. And yeah it is a tragic story I won’t say it isn‘t but it didn‘t work for me, and for a lot of fans as I’ve witnessed.
It would’ve been more effective to had foreshadowed the possibility of her being alive only to find that she had died and Natasha would then have to live with the fact that she murdered her for ”nothing” but no instead we decided that she would survive, only she was brainwashed, so there’s no real vendetta or motive as to why she tried to kill Natasha, it would’ve been more impactful if Antonia was angry with her attempt to kill her, wanting to show she could best her in every well possible. Like trying to tarnish her Avenger status.
There were variables on how to make Taskmaster a better written character, there is potential but I personally would like the Mandarin effect (which I love the comic Mandarin I was so mad in IM3 so I can’t believe they did it x2)
On top of it the fact that the plot twist you could see coming a mile away also felt like the biggest after thought in the whole movie, it felt like they had a different direction they were originally going to go, but they took the easy bait of “we need a big twist” which Marvel has suffered for years on, always with some twist and it’s getting sickening to see it happen every movie.
Besides the point, it doesn’t go over well a lot of the fanbase is conflicted, angry and there are actual debates, which it happens we have differing opinions, its hard to find a thing we all agree on… and yet the only defense I’m seeing is “it’s because she’s a girl now?“ “you just hate women.” I’m tired of being told it’s sexism when it’s not, this version of Taskmaster was already doomed, they didn’t wanna go a comic accurate to begin with, you can tell by how ugly the suit was. (no cape?? not even the mask was cool)
I had already suspected from the beginning of the first trailer that was NOT Tony Masters, something about it just felt like Blindstrike from Stretch Armstrong to me (they kept making it seem like a dude only to reveal it was a woman, although they executed that perfectly please give it a watch)
I had already called it, we barely even met Taskmaster yet I knew it from the trailer, I didn’t enjoy the movie it played out exactly how I expected (which my expectations were low)
I found it insulting for a few reasons, it made it seem like Black Widow is either too good or not good enough to fight a man, it felt like they wanted to push how powerful women are, which I’m all for, women are very powerful I would know because I am one.
But it rubbed me the wrong way that she can’t have an enemy go toe to toe with her unless it’s a woman?? It didn’t sit right with me, is this meaning she can’t have a rival that’s a man because men or stronger or weaker… that’s where my head went, the gender shouldn’t matter to her ever, we know Natasha can take out anyone, so why the sudden change of a character whose always been a male?
I understand the MCU wants to be diverse, but there are more female characters than a lot of the fanbase realize, the MCU has barely scratched the surface, instead of changing other characters drastically in the name of “diversity” they should just pull actual diverse characters, or create some, this version of Taskmaster doesn’t feel anything like Tony Masters, they lacked all flair, the fact that it’s just Winter Soldier and Ghost from AMATW 2.0 is just lacking.
it’s something we have seen before, and this wasn’t needed to “full circle” Natasha‘s story.
It’s not because Taskmaster is a girl that is the problem it’s the general writing that felt like they didn’t really care about the character and changing it to be a girl was like leading a lamb to the slaughter, so many fans were going to be enraged because they ruined everything about the character, so you should be mad they put the actress in this position, they chose to do that to the character and it feels like it was done on purpose, just for the reaction.
The character was already bad making it a girl just made it worse because it just felt bad. It gave me the impression that a female version of Anthony Masters is just boring, that is not what we should think but so many are, and yes a lot of people are mad just because it’s a woman because they might get the idea that the character would’ve been better if he was written to be a male, but what we all really want is just a good adaption of the character, that’s all, he very well could’ve been a woman and everyone might’ve been alright (some might be iffy or mad you cannot avoid this) but I know with good writing I would’ve been fine if it was Toni Masters, not this Antonia Dreykov.
And that is what I really could not tolerate and handle with what they did to Taskmaster.
It didn’t feel like they had plans to flesh the character out they were just marking boxes on “what comic character can we use for Black Widow” checklist.
I freaking love Tony Masters and he (and she) deserved better writing all around than what the MCU gave them (and us)
There was more I was going to add on but in my frustration I began to forget where I was going with this and didn’t get to properly express my feelings.
Now next time you see someone complaining over Taskmaster don’t just assume they are sexist, there’s so much more depth to the character which is why we’re so angry over this iteration, and the fact that people defend the character just because it’s a girl doesn’t go well for me, that’s a poor excuse for people who had more pressing reasons why the character was a failure, not because they’re a woman but because it feels like we can’t dislike them because they’re a woman.
Imagine if your favorite suffered the poor writing just for a different characters development, it is a terrible feeling and having people tell you not to be upset or say you’re sexist for being upset is so invalidating.
Not to mention that the MCU continues to erase many traits and personalities of characters and on top of that, their sexualities (where is that diversity??) is already frustrating but it’s starting to feel like the writers don’t even value the characters they have.
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Hey! I wanted to ask if you do Oliver Wood! If you do, could you please do an angst fix when female! Reader gets bullied a lot by the quidditch team in her house (She's not Gryffindor) bc of Oliver, and she remains silent about it... And even though it's more than obvious that she's having a bad time, Oliver doesn't notice bc he's so focused on quidditch, that until one of her friends snaps at him! Fluffy ending pls!
A/N: I love this request so much!! Thanks for submitting! Please check out my Etsy shop for a personalized Harry Potter painting! CLICK HERE TO VIEW MY ETSY
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“You’re going to choke on that pumpkin juice,” You said, looking down at Oliver.
Oliver covered his mouth with the crook of his elbow, big brown wide eyes staring up at you. He took a second to gulp before swooshing his arm down to his side, smiling up at you.
“Come to wish me luck on our match in a couple days?” He teased.
You jokingly rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Just the opposite, actually. You already know us Ravenclaws are going to whoop Gryffindor’s butt on the field.”
A petite girl with strawberry blonde hair that stopped at her neck giggled. You looked over at cheery laugh, your smile widening. 
“You know us Gryffindors are undefeated,” Samantha spoke up. 
You pouted your bottom lip at the girl, wishing that you were playing on the same time as her. Samantha has been one of your best friends since you arrived at Hogwarts. 
“That is true,” You pointed out. “But not a fact.”
Oliver scrunched his nose up at you, his contorting to confusion. “Wait, what does that mean?”
Samantha scoffed, instructing Oliver to return his focus back on his breakfast to fuel up for practice later today. 
You waved goodbye at your friends, your mood dropping as you exited the Great Hall. The overwhelming feeling of joy and happiness that electrified your body was quickly evacuating. Your body forced its way to the Quidditch pitch, cold air bitterly nipping at your nose. You wanted nothing more than to curl up in your room and sleep the day away. Although you adore Quidditch and could possibly see yourself becoming pro. 
The dull gray sky and the dried patches of grass made the Ravenclaw team sweaters look blander than usual. Your team was lightly joking around, small chatter over-talking the whistling of the wind until you arrived.
“You’re going to get the ball into the hoop this time?” Your team captain, Randolph spoke up. 
You sucked in a breath and took the broom your teammate extended out for you, the group quickly flying off into the sky.
The one Hogwarts house stereotype that you believed to be accurate was that all Ravenclaws were competitive. You watched as your teammates aggressively chucked quaffles, dodged bludger bats, and squinted through the mist to see that sparkling golden ball. 
You forced yourself to get into the rowdiness, desperate to prove to your teammates that you belonged on the team. You understand that they expected a lot out of you, but sometimes it felt like you needed to sacrifice a limb to get their approval. You would leave Quidditch practices with bloody lips or bruised arms, overexerting your body to get the smallest of smiles from your captain.
You’ve only been on the team for about two years now, but even though you’re considered the “newbie” your skills in the sport were anything but. However, even though you never missed a single shot and tactfully watched out for any obstacles that may come your way, your captain kept barking at you.
You were ready to give up mid-practice. Either you were going to jump off your broom, purposefully crash into the ground, or bark at your captain back. All options seemed desirable and you were debating which one you were going to take up. The fantasy of ditching your team and going back to your friends in the Great Hall dampened your mood even more. The realization that most of your friends, who were Gryffindors, were going to be rolling onto the pitch soon. 
Just when you were going to bring your focus back onto the match, an obnoxiously loud clapping noise echoed into your ears. Staring right at you was Randolph, looking extremely pissed. You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. His face was blazing, rosy red cheeks a physical symbol for his anger. 
“Where the hell is your head at!?” He snapped, eyes wild. 
“I swear, for these past previous practices all you’ve been doing is looking like a fool floating in mid-air! Do you just take all your energy and impress me for the first half of the match to only self-destruct and spiral!? Do you not understand that I need your focus to be on the team from the moment you step onto the pitch till you reach those locker rooms at the end?”
You stared at your captain, jaw unhinged. If you all weren’t so high up, flies would be nesting into your gaped mouth. You licked your dry lips, unsure of what to say. Your captain stared at you for a minute longer, expecting an explanation, and when not a peep left your lips he shook his head, flying away.
You silently cursed at yourself, biting back tears. There was no point in crying. Your team would make it harder on you anyways. For the rest of the match, you tried your best to keep up with everyone else. However, it seemed that the team sensed your frustration, tension thickening the skies. 
When the familiar whistle was called to end practice, you were first to fly straight towards the ground. Once you dismounted your broom, a familiar shout called your name.
Oliver and Samantha waved at you, coming up and tackling you with a big hug. You stiffened, the unexpected love and appreciation wanting to make you breakdown on the spot. 
Samantha quickly noticed your mood, examine your face whereas Oliver chirped on about how well you did up in the air. You clenched your jaw, softly thanking Oliver for his kind words.
“Are you okay?” Samantha whispered, taking a step back. 
A few other Gryffindor team members came to your side, congratulating you on a successful practice from their point of view. Oliver began to preach his daily sermon about the importance of stability and control in the air, claiming that you were one of the few people who knew how to incorporate the gravitational pull versus the body’s balance when flying. He seemed so lost in his own mind space that when Randolph came over to yell at you once more, he didn’t notice.
“You need to do better. Or else we’re going to have no choice but kick you off the team,” Your captain spoke up. 
Samantha stared shockingly at your team captain, surprised by the words he was spilling out. Her fists balled, ready to fight in your name when you held her back.
“Seriously. Get your head in the damn game,” Randolph scoffed, leaving you speechless as he walked off.
“Are you serious?” Samantha spoke up once he was out of earshot. “Is he always like this or just to you?”
You blinked a couple times, trying to dry your eyes. You shook your head, not wanting to get into it. You gave Samantha a very obvious fake smile, exclaiming that you were okay and needed to hit the showers.
“No, this isn’t okay!” Samantha bursted out, eyes wide and upset.
Oliver stopped chatting, looking over at Samantha confused. 
“What do you mean? I thought we had our game plan down pact since last week-”
“Shut up, Oliver!” Samantha hissed, rage filling her body.
“I’m talking about the way how Randolph is treating our friend!”
A look of defeat washed your features and it seemed that Oliver noticed. He took a step closer to you, lifting your sunken chin with his finger, bringing your eyes to his own.
“What is he doing to you and I will speak to him,” He said in a low yet demanding voice. His cheery attitude was gone and pure concentration and tension stiffened his features.
“Oliver-”
“No, tell me.” He said, cutting you off. “Please.”
You licked your lips and began to explain the past couple of weeks. You could see in both Samantha and Oliver’s faces that they knew the way you were being treated wasn’t right. Once you were done speaking without any interruption, Oliver instructed Samantha to start practice without him and that he’ll be back soon. Samantha nodded and gathered the team, taking off. You looked up at Oliver like he was nuts, not understanding why he wasn’t up in the air with the rest of his crew.
“We’re going to bring this to Madam Hooch, okay?”
“Oliver, I can’t do that. I can’t let my team think I’m being a tattle-tale.”
Oliver scoffed, bringing your body close to his. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder.
“You deserve to have your voice heard. I’m not going to stand here and allow you to take the abuse. You’re a brilliant player and it’s time that you stop forcing yourself in the shadows.”
You released a shaky sigh at Oliver’s words of encouragement, hugging him tightly back. Once he unglued himself to you, he firmly held your arms, kissing your forehead.
“We’re in this together.”
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Love and Hate
Summary- 2.7k Mike Weiss x You. Another hotel, another fight, and another making up. Maybe you were just a much an addict as he was. It only seems okay, if you two are fighting with one another. Warnings- Drug Use and Fucking one another. Smut. Messed up and unhealthy relationship. Written for @donutloverxo​ @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​ and @captain-a-rogerss​ 3rd week challenge- song fics. Choice I used was Eminem (cause I love the bastard) and Rhianna’s, Love The Way You Lie. 
A/N- I love the dysfunctional relationships, the ones that just are self destructive toxic messes. I doubt Mike could ever truly be in a healthy one, although maybe some day in fanfics. I can't claim to know accurately what certain drugs will do, so when reading this, its simply my interpretation. Don't expect the highs and lows to be accurate.   
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“So he never had any intention of fixing those trucks, he sent them with broken pipes, claiming to now know they had busted pumps.” Mike snorted clearing his nasal passage, as the coke flooded his mind with an endorphin rush. It was almost as good as sex with you was for him. Almost. What was better? Was if you were here with him. He missed you, but you didn’t approve of this. This process helped him think. His name might come after - Danziger, but he could see the process almost as it was unfolding before him much clearer than his partner, especially when he was at his peak, right now. The only way to make it better,  if you were here. You baby was his ultimate weakness.
The people he wrangled into the room, the dealer neighbors, and crack whores he called to his hotel room, mainly hoping to score those couple grams, willingly share with them. All sitting there with there stick-it notes to there shirts, it finely clicked in there slightly slower minds. There oohs and aahs, the sick fuck statements that filled the room left him nodding in agreement. “Guilty… he’s guilty.” 
The fire chief is not the only one guilty, Mike, oh he burned you over and over, that was how you described it every late-night you came searching for him. I’m at friends, working with Paul, got a trial I’m working. That was how he described it. Just like how he described it tonight on the phone to you. And yet, when you pulled in, the upper room door wide open to see Mikes silhouette bent over the table, and then he reared back his head, bouncing like a boxer might, his nose scrunching up. 
You’re just gonna stand there and watch me burn. 
Mike never heard you slam the car door, or go up the steps, nor did he notice you standing in the doorway till one of the dealers said something. “You looking to join the party sweetheart?” 
Mike spun around to take you in, just as you did with him. You could see it, the way his body was thrumming from the drugs. The intense high that left him jittery, with tense muscles, his biceps straining, the veins in his neck standing at attention, and his face, he took in every bit of information, filing it away in case it was necessary for another time. How had he explained it to you? Oh yes, he was hyper fixated on all details, he was smarter, faster, stronger when he was high. 
It was the crash though that would leave him half dead, so many times you had found him on the verge, but never quite crashed. 
That was just a man playing a dangerous game. It was just a matter of time. 
“No, I’m fucking not looking to join.” You snarled as you entered the room, and Mike took a step forward, trying immediately to appease you. 
“Baby, It’s just for work.” 
“Shut it, Mike, all of you, get the hell out.” 
The girls, the ones you could only begin to guess what they were here for, started bitching immediately. “Hey, we don’t know who you are lady, but we brought the goods, and we’re not leaving till were paid.” 
Your voice might have got shrill when you grabbed your purse off your shoulder and Mike tried to stop you with “Baby, come on, stop, they don’t know any better.” You ripping your purse open and yanking out all the cash you had, your anger now uncontrolled. Throwing those bills at the girl’s faces. “There! Now your fucking paid!” Mike’s hands grasped your arms to prevent you from throwing anything else, the group behind you started to band together, getting mad. The tension in the air between you and the people behind him leaving Mike the barrier. The drugged high barrier protecting each other from one another. 
“Get out! Get out! GET OUT!” You’re now screaming, and Mike looks over his shoulder, his grasp on you so tight it would bruise your forearms. You don’t notice though. Not at this point, You rarely do. 
You like the way it hurts. 
“Get out guys, I got her.” Your rage turned towards Mike, the anger seething just at him now, He got you… Did he get you? 
“Yeah man, she’s killing the vibe.” One of the others said, and Mike pushed you into a corner of the room while your screaming at him, the people passing the two of you, and the door closing with a sharp slam. Leaving the two of you alone. 
“Y/N! Stop it! Fuck, calm down!” Mike yelled right back in your face and you wrench your arm from his hold, slapping him in the face. 
“Let me go.” 
Mikes eyes snap at you, slamming you back into the wall hard enough so your head bounces off the cheap hooker motel, the one you knew he was dipping into the savings to pay for, along with the lines of powder smearing across the nightstand on each side of the bed, and god knows what else was scattered around this room. 
Mike, god he tried to make you understand, it was the only way he could work, that he could keep the thoughts straight. He loved you, so much that it was painful in its own messed up way, one that he lived for. 
Right now it felt like a steel knife was being held to his windpipe, he couldn’t breathe. The way your anger edged on hate, hate, and love was such a fine line he danced on for you. 
Sometimes you were just such a fucking bitch to him, blaming him for all the wrong in your lives. Sometimes you brought him so fucking high, it was a drug all on its own. 
High on his life for you, but drunk on his hate at the same time. 
Mike twisted you onto the bed, dropping you down, and caged you in as he straddled your, biting kisses on your lips and pining your hands above your head, growling into your mouth. “Why you always give me a hard time Woman? It was nothing, Nothing.” 
“Then why you hiding here and not in our home?” His kisses just fueling the hate simmering in your chest, even though your body pressed into him for more. Pulling his head back enough to glare down at you, still, lines of white dust were streaked across his nose, and he bared his teeth at you. 
“Cause I know you hate me for this.” 
He wasn’t lying, you did. Fuck you loved him and hated him at the same time, and it was a constant war within’ yourself. You shake your head with conviction, no no no. He caught your jaw in a hand, fingers digging into your cheeks, probably leave bruises there to. 
“I love the way you lie.” 
Then in a flurry of tugging clothes, the quick demands Mike had on you matched his passion he had discussing his case earlier. He needed you, needed to feel you clenching around him as he debated that he deserved it. Taking whatever he wanted. 
You couldn’t keep up with Mike, your body just moved where his hands pulled you apart, shoving down of your pants gave him access to your cunt, long fingers making you weak underneath him, as well as him mouth, your wrists released enough to grab onto his suspenders, dragging him back to your mouth. 
Maybe you were inhibiting him, catching that coke and whiskey taste lacing his tongue, dirty and filthy, wherever he was through the day filling you to, and his grunts plunged into you just as much as his fingering you was doing. Pulling you apart, he was always pulling you apart and leaving you in pieces. He jerked you in place, hitting against the headboard, making you cuss at him. 
“Shut up Y/N, you’re fine,” Mike said through hissing words against your neck, and your fingers scratch at his back, and grab onto his belt, pulling it, working to the front to start unbuckling it while Mike is yanking on your shirt, knocking your hands loose to lose it over your head, falling back over you to keep you scattered, unable to walk that line you followed. The one where you loved and hated him. There was a rolling of both, you loved to hate him. 
There was venom in your words you spit at him, even now as he was making you thrust on his fingers, stroking your clenching walls, your arousal slicking you ready for him to break you into the mattress, jerking his fingers from you and bringing them to his mouth, pulling away from breasts he left scattered in bites and sucked on his fingers. 
“You always taste best this way.” He groaned and you ran your hands over your face, so fucking on edge from this evening events and him, that your body was still humming to be pushed over the edge. Mike worked his belt open, opening his pants with a yank and the force snapped a suspender lose, giving him enough room now to free himself from his confines. Throbbing and angry to fuck you. 
“Mike, just fuck me already, would you?!”  He slapped at your ass and grasping it, pulling you onto him and wrapping an arm around you to keep you where he needed you. Pounding into you, just as you predicted, this time he was unhinged. Still high, still wound. What started as pain soon was a pleasure and once more you were lost to Mike. 
“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, right there.” You whined to him, scrambling to match his movements, but there was no way, you just let yourself get railed over and over till you were arching under him, fingers clutching at the hair at the back of his head. “Don’t you dare fucking stop Mike.” 
You two punished each other, push and pull at each other’s hair, scratch and claw at each other, bite at one another till teeth sink claiming into flesh. Screaming into his tense shoulder when he hit your sweet spot, over and over again, trying your best not to give him what he wanted. Cause that was all this was, his way of seeking that satisfying high once more, the one that the drugs couldn’t give him. 
Maybe this was your high? Fuck if you knew. 
Whatever it was destroying you. It destroyed you once more when you came for him. But damn it all to hell if it didn’t give you your own high, in this cheap hooker motel, clutching your destructive man to your body like he was the very air you breath while your eyes rolled back, and your jaw went slack, that look of triumph coming from Mike pissing you off in that second, but then he matched your expression, you both falling, falling into pleasured oblivion. 
Fuck you hated him and loved him, you thought as he smothered you, gasping into his neck as his arms circled around you, keeping you in against him. Mike knew he couldn’t loose you, you were probably the only thing keeping him alive still. Better then any upper and downer he could ever divulge in. Better then any bottle of alcohol he could consume. Better then any hooker he could fuck. 
You were it for him. All your loathing hate and passionate love were what kept him alive. As long as you come back for him, fought against him, loved him. Only you two could live so destructively together, tearing each other apart, and putting one another back together.
Light streamed through the heavy nicotine stained curtains as Mike’s phone screamed in the early morning, making him push off you where he passed out the night before and roll to the edge of the messed up bed. Running a hand through his hair, he dug into his pants pockets, half held up with a remaining suspender and yanked out his phone. 
“Shit, I’m due in court.” He started yanking clothes on, occasionally rubbing at his face in a distracted manner while you groan, and roll in the bed to see his back, head lowered against his hand to try and dispel the pain that came with the after-effects. Pulling up, you take the undone suspender and lope it over his shoulder which he grasped and reattached it to the front of his pants, and looked over his shoulder. 
“Yesterday is over Y/N, today is a different day.” Mike stated while moving to a stand, grabbing his brightly colored shirt and snapping it straight, dropping the straps from his shoulders to put the shirt on. “I will change, I promise. Last time.” 
You move to a stand to take over buttoning his shirt, his fingers shaking to much. Lack of coffee he would normally tell you. Today he didn’t even bother with that lie. So many were spewing from him already. Yours were steady, one at a time fitting them through the holds as you went up, till you reached the end and flipped his collar. 
“Whatever you say, Mike.” You glance around and pick up his tie, fitting that around his neck as well, and looping it around till it sat perfectly against his chest. He grabbed at the back of your neck and tilted your head to look up at him. “I fucking mean it this time Y/N. I’m sorry, okay.” How much truth did he have in those crystal blues? None, none at all. And that was okay. You were just as fucked up as he was cause his chaos kept you alive. Kept you coming back. 
“Okay Mike, I believe you. Go… You have court, and I will see you tonight at home.” Leaning up to place a kiss on his lips, your hands lifted to brush through his hair to fix it. “Go.” 
Grabbing the last of his things, and shoes, he was out the door, leaving you to gather whatever was left and abandon the night before behind. 
In the coming weeks, it seemed to change. His habits became bearable after withdrawals. The first time you experienced them, they scared the hell out of you. Now, now you were familiar with them. Hours to days, days to weeks, Mike woke up with you and went to sleep with you every night, he became an attentive gentle lover, and you two seemed happy. 
It was all wrong. Both of you pretending this way, a happy life. It wouldn’t last, it never did. He hated it, the way his eyes wouldn’t look at you anymore, but skating over you, your fake laugh over the dinner table at a joke he made, making him grind his teeth. Maybe just one last time? He loved you and hated you, he couldn’t ever leave you. But maybe it could be more bearable. Bring back your anger to feed off, feel something good again. He picked up his cell phone and made that call. 
“Yea, how much? That’s good, that’s fine. You be over in an hour? I will have your cash.” 
You wanted him better, healed, himself. But at this point, you didn’t know who was Mike really. You’ve always known him in all his other stages, and this one, he seemed so… fake. Even you were faking your way through the days to show him support. How wrong were you, to miss that destructive piece of shit that made you so mad you wanted to sink into nothingness. Which is what he was able to do for you too. Pulling up to your house, lost in your thoughts and feeling yourself suffocating as you went up the steps, and opening the door, there Mike was, and that pit in your stomach collapsed into the fire, trickling up your spine. Now, this… seeing him humming before you, his words running together to whomever the dealer was, his whole body rigid in excitement. 
This was the Mike you knew, had missed, loved, and hated all at once. Maybe you were just as self-destructive as him. But oh baby, were you ever ready to crash and burn with him. 
Mike swung around, and cursed, preparing for what was to come. 
How fucking much did he miss this? Since the last time. 
Both of you destroying each other in the worst of ways. 
Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's alright, because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's alright, because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
174 notes · View notes
hockeylvr59 · 5 years
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Crush || Matthew Tkachuk
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Requested: [ ] yes [x] no
Authors Note: So I’m not sure how I feel about this because Matthew’s personality is difficult for me. I know he’s normally sarcastic and confident but I feel like if he’s hiding a crush he’d be a little different. And throw in a kid and that brings out even more softness so I don’t know if this feels like him at all….but let me know what you think. I was watching his NBCSports interview from the all-star game and tried to base his temperament on that but idk how accurate I got. 
Warnings: none
Word Count: 2,262
~~~~~~~~
The cool air of the rink was the same. The feeling of his skates cutting through the ice was the same. The sound of sticks on pucks and his teammates chirping was the same. Everything about today’s practice was the same except for one thing...
Practice had started five minutes ago and his favorite team photographer wasn’t in her normal spot on the bench. 
Matthew couldn’t recall the last time that y/n had missed a practice. Her presence was such a part of the routine by now that for some reason her absence left him feeling bothered. Standing at the blue line, Matthew tried to pay attention to his coach’s instructions, determined to push past this unsettled feeling. Skating hard toward the net, he buried a puck past Rittich, a flash of movement from the bench catching his eye as he returned to his previous spot. Before he could assure himself that it was her, that everything was back to normal, Gelinas had pulled him aside wanting to chat about his shot and how to improve his game when breakout chances occurred. 
By the time Coach had finished with him, the next drill had already started. Taking a moment to figure out what was going on, Matthew settled himself at the back of the line before finally taking the chance to glance over at the bench. His heart settled back into place at the realization that the movement had been just who he was hoping it was. In the same millisecond, his jaw dropped as he realized that while she held her camera in one hand, snapping away like usual, things weren’t exactly normal. No...normally y/n didn’t have a baby resting on her hip. 
Lost in thought, Matt didn’t even realize that he was next in line for the drill until Johnny was shoving him from behind. And although Matt attempted to focus and participate in practice, there was one question that wouldn’t leave his mind.
She has a kid?  
You see, while Y/N was a staple at Flames practices, Matt had never actually really talked to her before. Of course, he’d occasionally hover over her shoulder to comment on the photos of him she’d taken, but he really didn’t know anything about her personal life. Admittedly, he had made a point to observe a lack of any rings on her left hand but now...seeing her with a baby made him realize that that observation really meant little to nothing at all. 
Partway through practice, Matthew had watched TJ Brodie skate over to her during a forward-only drill and he watched as she chatted with him, a smile on her face as she adjusted the kid against her side who appeared to cling tighter to her. From the other side of the rink, Gio watched as his young assistant captain eyed their photographer, his obvious crush ever more apparent. No one had said anything to him about the crush yet, but maybe it was finally time to give him a little shove in the right direction. 
A modified scrimmage was set up to conclude the on-ice practice and for a while, Matthew lost himself in the game, forgetting about y/n and the baby on the bench. It wasn’t until the puck deflected oddly off of someone’s stick and he heard a feminine screech of pain that it all came flooding back. Over on the bench, y/n was shaking out her right arm frantically, her fingers clenching into a fist and releasing repeatedly. With play stopped and Ward checking to make sure she was okay, Matthew couldn’t help but listen as she assured his coach that she was fine, that she was more worried about the baby and the camera than taking a bouncing puck to the arm. Still, he noticed the grimace on her face and a rush of anger filled him at the thought of her being hurt. It was a stupid feeling because it was a fluky play and while he cursed himself for it, it was an emotion he was finding hard to control. 
By the time he looked over at the bench again, she was gone, clearly not willing to risk another stray puck flying her way when she really wasn’t able to protect herself. 
The nagging feeling that he should go check on her followed him into the locker room as Matthew stripped out of his gear. He’d have a few minutes between grabbing a shower and the team film session if he was quick. But as he stood in the shower he told himself that it would be ridiculous and weird if he tracked her down. After all, they weren’t friends and the last thing he needed was for his teammates to give him hell over it. 
Still, after throwing on some sweats and a t-shirt, Matt found himself standing in the middle of the hallway, his brain telling him to head to film, while his heart pulled the other way. Caught in a mental debate, he missed Gio walking down the hall from the training room until he was hit in the chest with something thrown by his captain. Catching it, he looked up confused as to why he had an ice pack and a roll of elastic bandage wrap now in his hands. 
“She’s down the hall. Go help her wrap the ice pack around her arm.” Gio directed. 
“Wait. What?” Matt found slipping from his lips. 
“Chuck...she has a kid, not the plague.” Gio declared. “Now go before I have to watch you debate whether you should for a minute longer.” 
“I wasn’t…” Matt attempted to defend himself but Gio just walked away shaking his head before Matt could finish his sentence. Sighing to himself, Matt adjusted the items in his grip before turning down the hall where Gio had pointed, finding y/n sitting on the ground just around the corner with her back against the wall, computer propped up on a box and baby sleeping on her chest. 
Running his fingers through his hair, Matt sighed before approaching, the sound of his footsteps causing y/n to look in his direction. 
“So uh...Gio sent me with an ice pack for your arm.” Matt stated, his voice cracking, driving him completely nuts. 
“Thank you.” She whispered back softly, her lips dropping down to press against the baby’s head in an effort to ensure that it didn’t wake up. Now that he was closer Matthew noticed the pink clothes and though it was gender-biased, he took that to mean that this was a little girl. Unmoving for a moment, Matthew just Y/N with her daughter until she reached up for the ice pack. 
“Oh uh...can I help you? Gio sent a bandage wrap to keep it in place so you didn’t have to hold it.” Matt found himself rambling, something else that was so unlike his normal behavior. When she nodded, he found himself smiling, dropping into a squat beside her and taking the offered arm. “Did you get hit on the front of the arm...or the side?” He questioned, unable to see any signs of bruising as she wore long sleeves. 
“It hit here.” She pointed out, grazing her hand along her daughter’s head as she returned her free hand to the baby’s back. With appropriate direction, it only took a minute or two for Matt to secure the ice pack, and once he was done, he stood back up, his fingers tangling in his hair again. 
“Well...you should be all set.” He stated. “And I should head to film.” Shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats he turned to walk away, only pausing when he heard her melodic voice say his name. 
“Thanks Matt.” She murmured and it was sad that those two words alone caused his chest to swell. 
As he settled into film he had so many new questions. He had to remind himself that they weren’t any of his business and that his business was to focus on the screen in front of him and not on how gentle she was with her daughter or how wonderful her voice sounded speaking his name. He’d be chirped for weeks if the guys knew where his head was at and he had a reputation to uphold. 
___
By the time they finished watching film, Matt was ready to go grab something to eat before hitting the gym for some weights. Detouring back to the locker room for his forgotten phone, Matt had to walk down by where y/n had situated herself in order to get to the player’s lounge. As he passed the side hallway where he’d see her just an hour or so before he once again heard his name, this time being called out with more volume and energy. 
Though his stomach was growling, Matt was unable to keep walking and so he stopped and turned down the hallway finding Y/N standing over a now awake child. 
“Oh Matt...thank god.” She declared. “Can you do me a massive favor and watch Lottie for a minute while I use the bathroom?” Her words came out in such a rush that by the time his brain processed them she was looking at him expectantly, bouncing on her toes. 
“I don’t…” He started and for the second time today, his protests were being cut off.
“Please?? Just make sure she doesn’t go walking away.” Apparently his body language signaled his agreement because immediately she smiled and kneeled down next to the little girl. 
“Mommy will be right back. Stay here with Mr. Tkachuk and behave. I’m coming right back after using the bathroom.” Though the little girl whined for a moment she eventually nodded at Y/N and with that the woman who was driving him crazy disappeared down the hall leaving him with her daughter. 
If Matt were honest, he didn’t know the first thing about kids and so he stood just watching ‘Lottie’ as she stared back up at him with big brown eyes. Feeling awkward he eventually slid himself to the floor, leaning against the wall, his gaze remaining on the baby as if she would magically vanish if he so much as blinked. 
Y/N had been gone far longer than a minute and Matt found himself glancing down the hallway to see if she was on her way back when he felt two tiny hands pressing down on his thigh as the little girl plopped herself down right next to him, a book lying beside her. As she settled herself, she reached for the book before attempting to hand it to him. 
“M. Chuck...ook peas.” She requested, those big brown eyes staring into his once more. Gently taking the book from her, Matthew opened it and just stared at the page until it clicked that she wanted him to read to her. It was a children’s book, one which had maybe five words a page and so he complied, telling her about the cat and the rat and the bat and the hat. As he turned each page he couldn’t help but marvel at the look that crossed Lottie’s face and as he finished, he nearly jumped hearing Y/N’s voice above him. 
“Tell Mr. Tkachuk thank you Lottie.” With a giggle, the little girl nodded and Matt watched as she brought her fingertips to her chin before moving it away, palm up. 
“Tank u” She babbled before pulling herself up and throwing herself at her mom’s legs. 
“Yes. Thank you.” Y/N echoed, as Matt set the book down and pulled himself to his feet. 
“Was that sign language?” He asked, not even realizing how random of a question that was until it had been asked. 
“It was. She started learning sign language as a way to communicate before she could talk.” Y/N explained. “She doesn’t really need it now, but I think she enjoys it because she pairs it with her words still.” Matt merely nodded in response, his hands finding their way back to his pockets once more. 
“Seriously thank you for watching her. My bladder was about to burst.” Y/N explained. “She’s been so clingy today because she’s teething again and with hand, foot, and mouth disease going around her daycare I had no choice but to bring her with me today and I did not realize how hard it would be to have a clingy sixteen-month-old attached to my hip as I tried to work.” 
“It’s no problem,” Matt assured her, though his brain was now spinning with all of the information she had just thrown at him. She had answered some of his questions, but there were still many more lingering. 
As he lifted weights an hour later, Matthew missed the looks his teammates were giving him as he watched Y/N between reps as she flowed easily between taking pictures of the Flames in the gym and capturing snapshots of her daughter who was trapped into a corner with plyo boxes working on a puzzle. No one commented on the smile that appeared on his face as he watched Lottie bounce on her toes as she called out for her mom to show off her finished foam puzzle, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t storing up ammunition to chirp him later. 
If things went the way the vets had a feeling they would, there would be plenty of time to do just that in the future.
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midnightsnyx · 4 years
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Matthew Tkachuk - In Your Dreams: part 2
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a/n: a couple people requested a part 2 and i couldn’t help myself!! thank you for all the love on part 1!! <3  also im bad at writing cheesy romance so i apologize in advance at how bad it will be lol
part 1 here
warnings: angst, fluff, insinuated smut (i may get there some day folks but today ain’t that day)
word count: 2967
tag list: @buckybarneshairpullingkink​
my masterlist
Matthew Tkachuk
“Are you sexting my brother?”
You yelp when Brady drops on the couch beside you and snatches your phone from your hand. Luckily, you were only scrolling through Instagram so he didn’t see the suggestive texts you and Matt had been exchanging all morning.
After the summer, you and Matt had been texting back and forth, trying to get used to the idea of talking without insulting each other. It was much easier than you were expecting and you discovered rather quickly that you enjoyed talking to him. He was sweeter than you’ve ever seen, thoughtful, good-humored and you were completely infatuated with him.
After a couple months of texting and Facetime, you flew to Calgary to spend the weekend with him. He wined and dined and took you to his bed and you hated having to leave.
You snatch your phone back. “No. Although I’m not sure why you would want to see them.”
“I don’t!”
“Keep your nose out of my business then.”
. . .
“Heck no.” Brady says when you meet him at the Canadian Tire Centre. “Oh, heck, no. You’re not wearing that!”
You look down at you Calgary Flames jersey and shrug. Matt sent it to you and asked if you would wear it for tonight’s game because the Sens were facing off against the Flames.
“I mean, technically, it still has your name on it.”
“You’ve betrayed me!”
You roll your eyes at him. “You’re being dramatic. Look,” you lift your jersey up to show a Sens t-shirt with number 7 on it. “See? Now c’mon, you have a game to play.”
He follows you like a sad puppy and sighs. “My own brother is stealing my best friend. You know, I think I liked it better when guys hated each other.”
You groan and shove his shoulder. “Grow up.”
 Along with buying your jersey, Matt also bought your ticket so that you’d be on the visitors side. Which means he spent most of warm up showing off to you as if you’ve never seen him play before which you have but you’ll never admit it to him.
It’s an intense game and you’re not sure who you’re cheering for half the time but they go into overtime so at least they’ll both get a point.
Matt ends up scoring the winning goal and when he points to you and mouths, that one was for you, you think your heart might burst out of your chest.
. . .
The two of you haven’t put a label on whatever you are and part of you is okay with it because it is fairly new but you’re also worried about what he does when the two of you aren’t together which is quite a lot. Sure, he sends you flowers and calls you after every game no matter how tired he is. He texts you every morning and calls you before you go to bed and it makes you feel special but sometimes you can’t help but wonder if he does this for other girls and if it makes them feel special too.
It’s something that’s on your mind on a weekend that Matt brings you to Calgary. He had practice in the morning so you’re hanging out at his apartment waiting for him to come home. You’re cooking lunch when you hear the front door open, and Matt calling out to you.
“Babe, I’m back!” He shouts and your heart swells at the term of endearment but it drops when you think about him calling other girls that when you’re not around.
His arms wrap around your waist and he presses a kiss on your neck.
“Something smells good.”
“Yeah, it’s fettuccine… I think I might’ve messed it up a-”
“I’m not talking about the pasta.” he mumbles, pressing more kisses down your neck.
“Oh?” you squeak and you really shouldn’t, because you’re still worrying about not being the only one, but you let him drag you to bed anyway.
Later that night, long after he’s asleep, you’re trying to ignore the taunting voice in your head reminding you that he might be holding other girls like this. Reminding you that someone else might also wake up to his sleepy smile and messy hair.
. . .
“So you’re her.”
You raise your eyebrows at Johnny Gaudreau, who Matt had introduced you to when the two of you first arrived at the bar. He introduced you as Brady’s friend and when you looked at him, he just shrugged.
You’re not sure what you were expecting - certainly not saying you were his girlfriend - but Brady’s friend? It was bothering you and you were doing you best to hide it but you knew you were failing because Matt had been sending you weird looks all night all while basically ignoring you. He’s barely touched you since you sat with his friends.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You reply, glancing at Matt who is deep in conversation with one of his teammates.
“He talks about you a lot.” Johnny shrugs. “I thought you two were dating.”
“Apparently not.” You mumble, standing up and giving Matt a quick look. “I’m going to get a refill.”
You leave before he can reply and push through all the sweaty bodies trying to get to the bar. While you’re flagging down a bartender, someone sits on the stool next to you. You look, expecting it to be Matthew but instead it’s a stranger. A handsome stranger so when he offers you to pay for your drink you almost say yes but a familiar arm wraps around your shoulder.
“Thanks, but no thanks.” Matt says, glaring at the man until he mutters an apology and leaves. When he’s out of sight, Matt turns so he’s facing you and now you’re the one on the opposite end of his dirty look.
“What the hell was that?” He snaps and you scoff, shrugging his arm off you.
“Excuse me?”
“You were going to let him buy you a drink!” He says loudly and you glance around but nobody seems to be paying attention to you thankfully.
“It was a drink, Matthew. I wasn’t inviting him home.”
“Well I wouldn’t be surprised if you did.” He says harshly and you flinch. His eyes widen immediately and he reaches out but you hop off the stool and run out of the bar, ignoring him calling your name.  
You run out of the bar and down the street until you come across a quiet diner. A bell dings when you open the door and a kind looking, older woman greets you and tells you to seat yourself.
You’ve been sitting in the diner nursing a glass of water for no more than fifteen minutes when the bell rings, signally a new customer.
You don’t have to look up to know who it is but you do anyway and you’re greeted with a very guilty looking Matt. He slowly walks over and seats himself across from you.
“How’d you find me?”
He shifts in his seat and stares at the table instead of you. “I tracked you on snapchat.”
You swear under your breath for not turning that option off. When you look at Matt again, his eyes are on you already. He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off right away, wanting to speak your mind before he says anything.
“You introduced me as Brady’s friend.” you say quietly and he nods. “you barely spoke to me the entire night and then you got possessive when that guy spoke to me.” he nods again and you sigh. “look, Matt. I’m not asking you to say something you’re not comfortable saying or you’re not ready to say - I don’t think I’m ready for it - but you’re not allowed to act like I’m nothing to you when there are people around but get jealous if someone talks to me. And you’re not allowed to say what you said to me. That was unfair.”
“I know.” he replies. “and I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, I was out of line.” He looks back down at the table and you know he’s trying to think of what to say so you give him a moment. “I know it’s selfish… but I guess I just want you to myself a little while longer. I like the two of us in our bubble and that bubble is going to be popped when people find out about us. I’m in the spotlight, people are going to want to know our business and I don’t want it to freak you out.”
You nod in understanding. You were aware of how the media can be and it’s not something you look forward to.
“I’m scared.” He admits and you reach across the table, squeezing his hand.
“I’m scared too.” you tell him, lips turning up in a tiny smile. “but it’s better to be scared together than alone, right?”
He mirrors your smile and leans across the table and you meet him halfway.
. . .
You spend Christmas with the Tkachuk’s and Matthew proudly introduces you as his girlfriend and Chantal and Taryn squeal, Keith smiles and hugs you and Brady rolls his eyes and says “I knew this would happen all along. The two of you should really thank me.”
Matt blushes when his mom gushes about how glad she is that he found someone like you and that she had a feeling the two of you were meant for each other but later that night he tells you how happy he is that you gave him a chance.
The two of you debate over how it would be best to tell everyone you’re dating and you decide on a cliche but simple post to his Instagram.
It’s a picture of the two of you standing in front of the tree, his arms wrapped around you and lips pressed against your forehead. The caption reads, it wasn’t love at first sight, but we turned out okay.
It accurately sums up your relationship perfectly and you tease him about how long he’s had that one in his back pocket.
But it still makes your heart race and you want to shout I love you from the rooftops.
. . .
It’s not easy being 2877 kilometers apart and it becomes more obvious the longer the two of you are together. You fly to Calgary as often as you can but you still have school and Matt can’t visit Ottawa much because of his hockey schedule.
It’s a test for the two of you - and your relationship - and sometimes you feel frustrated and you wonder if you can do it but you think about when Matt Facetime’s you nearly every night that you’re apart from each other and you know that it would break your heart to live without seeing his curly brown hair and blue eyes and hearing his voice so you tell yourself it’s worth it.
And it is, until it isn’t.
. . .
“I don’t understand what the big deal is.” Matt says, obviously frustrated.
The two of you had been arguing for hours. You were graduating in less than two weeks so you’re job searching and when Matt brought up the idea of you moving to Calgary with him to get a job, you panicked.
You have been together for just about eight months now and you know that it’s normal at this stage to move in with someone but you were scared. There’s always been the fear in the back of your mind that one day Matt is going to wake up and decide that you’re not who he wants and if you uproot your entire life in Ottawa for him, you don’t know what you would do if something happened between the two of you.
But you couldn’t explain this to him so you kept making up lame excuses as to why you couldn't move in with him.
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” You say quietly and he huffs.
“Can you please just think about it?” He pleads and you’re tired of arguing that you just agree even though your answer will still be no when he asks.
“I love you.” He says and you smile softly. One thing about Matt is that no matter how big an argument and even if it’s not solved right away, he tell you he loves you.
“I know. I love you too.” You say before he ends the call.
You flop back on your bed and even though it’s only seven o’clock, you feel ready for bed. Ten minutes later, you’re just dozing off when you hear your door open and slam shut. You would freak out but you hear Brady call out to you and you tell him you are in your room.
You expected him to come over because when you and Matt argue, he makes sure to check on you.
What you’re not expecting is to see him fuming with anger.
“You’re an idiot.” He says.
“Excuse me?” You snap and he huffs, putting his hands on his hips and glaring at you.
“You love my brother, right?” he asks and you nod. “and he loves you.” you nod again and he raises an eyebrow.
“So why won’t you move in with him?”
You roll your eyes and sit up. “It’s not that simple, Brady.”
“Why not?”
“It’s just not.” you say because you don’t actually have a valid explanation. You know most of your reasons are foolish but you can’t help it.
He sighs and sits on the bed next to you. “What’s going on in your head? We’re best friends, you can talk to me about anything.”
You look at him and can’t help but smile. Brady always had a way of making you feel better when you were kids.
“I guess I’m scared.” You admit quietly and he knocks his shoulder against yours more gentle than normal.
“’bout what?” he asks and you shrug.
“He wants me to move across the county.”
“Yeah.”
“What if it doesn’t work out?”
A small smile crosses his face. “But what if it does?”
. . .
Three weeks later you’re holding a one way ticket to Calgary in your hand and saying goodbye to Brady in the airport.
“You got everything?” He asks, passing you your carry-on. You’re pretty sure if you looked close enough, his eyes would be a bit watery but yours are too so you can’t poke fun.
“Everything I need.” You tell him, and hug him tightly. You hold on to him a little longer than usual but it’s hard leaving your best friend after being attached at the hip for so long.
When he pulls away, he grins. “I’m proud of you.”
“I know.” you say. “I’ll text you when I land. And don’t forget-”
“I won’t tell him.” he promises and you hug him once more before leaving.
You’ll miss Ottawa, but it’s time for the new chapter of your life to start and you can’t wait.
. . .
Matt’s not surprised when he opens his front door to find you standing in front of him. He just grins and leans against the door.
“Missed me, did you?”
“Yeah.” You tell him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him soundly. “I really did.”
261 notes · View notes
tsukikento · 4 years
Text
Empathetic Ch. 7
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
Summary: After your mom, the number 1 hero in America, gets offered a teaching position at U.A., you two pack up your things and head to Musutafu, Japan to start a new life. Pressure for you in America was at an all-time high, and now you're in Japan, where almost no one knows you, or your family's past.
This tale starts on your first day of class where your new teacher decides the best way for you to fit in is to fight against the strongest person in your class: Bakugou Katsuki.
Warnings/Genre: This piece will feature some angst and reference to an abusive parent, if you are ever worried about other tw’s feel free to send me an ask and I will let you know. There will also be fluff, slight angst, pining, and slowburn.
A/N: This is also posted on ao3 under @allie_win. I’m transferring it over here, pls let me know if you like it! I love your comments! Just a note that any italics means thoughts.
(series masterlist)
~~
The next day everything started off fairly smoothly which was a great change to the chaotic afternoon yesterday. You started the day off waking up at sunrise and going on your typical run before going to shower and getting ready for the day. It was relieving that you were able to spend this time with yourself, only crossing paths with a few of your classmates.
That day, you happened to walk with Iida to class because you left early and he caught up to you due to his speed.
The polite boy stopped to walk with you and complimented you on your performance yesterday, making a comment about how he wished to see you in action and possibly even battle against you. At that, you sheepishly laughed and told him you specifically stayed away from him because of his advantage over you.
When you arrived at the classroom, Iida excused himself and began working on some classwork while you found yourself doodling on a sticky note. The drawing was similar to the one you were sketching last night, except instead of Nyikang in the gorgeous costume, it was you.
Ever since last night, you’ve been thinking about your actual hero costume in comparison to Nyikang’s. Throughout this process, you continuously tried to justify changing your hero costume. Additionally, it made you debate the healthiness of being afraid to change your costume and disappoint your family.
Once again, you bit your lip, your habit getting worse over these last few days, and continued to work on the sketch. It was nowhere near perfect, but that just encouraged you to keep working.
When class started, you crumpled up the sticky note you had been drawing on and started focusing on the discussion about yesterday’s game.
As the average day continued to drag on, a few other teachers came into the classroom to teach their respective subjects.
All of them mentioned yesterday.
All of them congratulated your team.
All of them made eye contact with you as if silently calling you out.
Now, Aizawa was standing in front of the class, telling you all to go to lunch.
By this time, you were quite hungry, and so, you walked up to Ashido’s desk as a few people got up and began exiting. “Hurry up! Let’s get Hagakure and go, I’m so hungry!” You complained, rubbing your stomach to emphasize your want or delicious food.
“Actually,” Mina smiled widely and sneakily pointed to Hagakure walking with Ojirou out of the classroom. “They made a lunch date yesterday during the game.” She whispered to you, so no one else could hear.
“So it’s just us?” You asked as Ashido grabbed her phone out of her bag and stood up.
“Actually,” Ashido started, once again grinning. Before she could finish her statement, Kirishima came up from behind and wrapped his arm around the pink girl’s shoulders.
“She’s eating with us,” Kirishima finished, gesturing with his thumb to Kaminari, Sero, and Bakugou. “You are welcome to join though.”
In all honesty, although you were tired from the previous day, you would love to sit with them. They were all so kind and humorous and made you feel so accepted. It would be the best way to relax.
Well, that would be true if Bakugou wasn’t included in that group.
Not that Bakugou was annoying you or making you miserable. He was just unpredictable and made your heart pound in your chest. You wanted a day with no stress, and Bakugou was a source of stress for you without him even knowing it.
“Sure,” You replied, knowing it would be rude to say no.
It’s only 45 minutes. What could go wrong?
~~
Not even 10 minutes later, you were a blushing mess.
After sitting down with your plate of scrumptious food, Kaminari and Sero began bombarding you question after question.
“Is it true that American quirks are weaker than Japanese ones?” Kaminari asked, before you had a chance to start eating.
“No, that’s a dumb rumor.” You rolled your eyes and looked at your blond friend, “Duh.” You grabbed a french fry and popped it into your mouth in an attempt to soothe your grumbling stomach.
Before you even swallowed that bit of food, Sero inquired, “Do you think your mom could beat Endeavor in a fight?”
You took a moment to think over the question before replying, “Yes, his quirk is at a disadvantage against her’s.” You grabbed another french fry and eyed the tempting sandwich that was next to your fries.
“Why do Americans eat so much?” Kaminari asked.
You looked up to look Kaminari in the eyes. Was that a personal comment? His eyes seemed innocent and unaware. Nah, there’s no way. “Capitalism? I don’t know,” You replied before taking a swig of your water. At this point, you were already over these questions and your empty stomach was not helping to calm your annoyance.
“What’s ka-pi-tah-whatever?” Kirishima added.
You hadn’t realized you said ‘capitalism’ in English. Your face went red in embarrassment and you completely forgot about your stomach, “I don't know the word in Japanese, sorry!”
Everyone chuckled in response, making your face turn just a bit pinker.
However, that wasn’t even your ‘blushing mess’ moment.
“Speaking of America,” Ashido began after the laughter died down, “you said you saw us in the sports festival. Is Japanese heroism popular there?”
“Um, a little bit,” You replied, biting your lip in thought. “Some people are really into it, and others just watch it to see the cool tricks. The U.A. sports festival happens at basically the opposite time of year in comparison to American hero competitions. So, a lot of people like to watch because they miss the hero competition.”
“If you watch us, then are there favorites? Like, I saw an article in the magazine that was about up-and-coming student heroes and was basically a rank for some really popular students,” Kaminari said.
You had just taken a bite of your sandwich and were trying to swallow quickly, but before you could reply, Sero shoved his friend teasingly.
“That’s a Japanese magazine, idiot! Why would Americans rank Japanese students?”
“I was just asking!” Kaminari defended.
“Well, it was a dumb question!” Sero replied.
“You’re a dumb question!”
“Shut up, dumba--”
“We do rank some hero students,” You interrupted Sero before anything more idiotic cold happen.
“Really?” Sero and Kaminari both replied, the brunette looking surprised and the blond looking excited at the prospect.
“Uh, yeah…” You replied, wondering if telling them that was worse than just keeping silent and letting them bicker.
“Are we ranked?” Kaminari asked.
You bit your lip and debated how to respond. “Kind of?” Everyone looked to you and waited for your explanation. You attempted to swallow the lump in your throat before talking, “There are different categories for the rankings, but they are childish. Like, they would be titled: ‘Top Ten Cutest Japanese Hero Students’. It’s all done by teen magazines so they aren’t realistic for how heroes are actually ranked.”
“Well?” Sero replied.
“Well, what?” You asked.
“They want to know if they are ranked in the top 10,” Ashido whispered to you.
“Oh, no, they aren’t,” you said.
Ashido laughed loudly as Kaminari and Sero expressed their sadness by fake crying loudly in the middle of the cafeteria.
Bakugou kicked them under the chair and they promptly shut up.
In all honesty, you weren’t keen on talking about this pole. Your friend from school had forced you to vote and you chose Bakugou on a whim. Additionally, you had trouble keeping your mouth shut when you were nervous. You took in a deep breath and tried to mentally prepare yourself for your habit of blabbering on.
“Don’t feel bad, first years never make it,” You comforted them as they quietly weep on each other.
“Really?” They both asked in unison again.
“Well, yeah,” You paused for a moment, debating whether or not to say this next part, “Except Todoroki. He got 1st place last year.” This fact could either be your blabbering habit or just the perfect thing to say to keep the conversation interesting.
Everyone, including Bakugou, shot up at that.
“What?!”
You scratched the back of your head sheepishly as the five people in front of you stared as if silently asking you to explain yourself.
Maybe I should have kept that to myself, you thought as your classmates continued to stare.
“It’s not like it matters, the poll is silly and not even accurate, the guys that won weren’t even who I--nevermind.” You quickly ate a few more fries to stop yourself from talking as the people around you contemplated the information they were given.
That was a close one…
“Todoroki always wins with girls, it's not fair,” Kaminari sighed.
“Well, can you blame him? Todoroki is cute,” Ashido replied.
Kirishima, now with red cheeks that matched his hair, interjected in the conversation, “You think he’s cute?”
“Um,” Ashido mumbled as she looked towards the ceiling; her face somehow got even pinker, “Conventionally he is cute.”
“I think you guys are forgetting something,” Bakugou grumbled, grabbing everyone’s attention. He had his eyes closed and his feet propped up onto the table, similar to how he acted during class.
“What?” Kaminari inquired.
Bakugou pushed himself up and opened his eyes to look straight at you. He had a smirk on his face and a glint in his eyes that you didn’t quite understand. Your heart beat faster as you wondered if he realized your mistake. “She said it's not accurate. That implies that--”
“Y/L/N-kun likes someone!” Ashido interrupted.
Shit.
Your face became much redder than before and the heat from your embarrassment radiated in the room. Suddenly, your armpits were sweaty and you genuinely debated running out of the room.
It’s not like you had a crush at this point, but Bakugou definitely made you queasy in a way that resembles a crush.
Everyone stared at you with curious faces, as if you would blurt out who it was you liked, but there was no way that would happen.
“That’s ridiculous!” You replied. You bit your lip before speaking carefully, “I just said it wasn’t accurate because it's little girls voting and is nowhere near a well thought out ranking.”
“Did you vote?” Kirishima asked.
Just fucking stop talking you idiot, you begged yourself. Don’t make yourself look like even more of an idiot.
“Um, my friend made me,” You mumbled as you looked down at your food, avoiding the eyes of your friends.
Kaminari grinned and got closer to you. “Who did you vote for?”
You chuckled bashfully and looked quickly over to Bakugou, who was the person you had voted for. He was once again lazily sitting with his feet up on the cafeteria table. His arms were crossed and his eyes were like slits as he stared at you.
You looked away from Bakugou as abruptly as you had looked at him, flustering even more.
Does he care about whether or not I like someone?
You bit your lip and looked down at your food once again. You debated whether or not you should take out your earbuds. First, you would have to figure out how to take them out without anyone noticing. Next, you would be immediately flooded with the thoughts of the whole cafeteria. It would take a moment to hone in on Bakugou and you weren’t sure how strong your quirk was after yesterday.
It wasn’t worth it, especially because the answer might be bad.
You bit your bottom lip and encouraged yourself to finally respond, “That’s none of your business.”
“What?” Kaminari exclaimed. “Can’t you just tell us if it was one of us?”
There is no way that is happening. “It wasn’t,” You lied through your teeth.
“You know what?” Sero interjected, “I bet she voted for Todoroki.”
“Oh yeah!” Kaminari replied. “That’s why she won’t tell us! She doesn’t wanna seem like an idiot because she called the poll dumb.”
Although they were ultimately just teasing you, their words irked you slightly because of the sentiment. You knew that they really hoped it was one of them, that was clear. As up-and-coming young heroes, the job is often more important than your social life, and that definitely impacts your love life too. You tend to only hang out with other heroes because that is just who you are around.
Regardless of the teasing and disappointed looks that Sero and Kaminari shared, this reality was much better than the one where Bakugou learned that you actually voted for him. And so, you kept quiet as Mina jumped to your defense, claiming that it makes sense I would vote for Shouto considering how cool and handsome he was at the festival. That then led Kirishima to say that he was also equally cool and more manly than Todoroki at the sports festival.
All the while, you finally stuffed your face with your lunch, completely unaware of the red eyes glaring at you.
~~
After lunch, the conversation about America and hero rankings died down, everyone now focusing on Ectoplasm and his lecture on calculating high-value exponents without a calculator.
From there, Present Mic came in to lecture on English. He passed out a new vocabulary sheet, which didn’t really mean anything to you because of your fluency in English. Although this period of the class ran fairly smoothly, Present Mic did occasionally start a conversation with you in English to show off his skills.
By the end of class, you finished the English homework assignment within only a few minutes and Present Mic left with a more than awkward joke.
Quickly, you packed up your things and met Ashido and Hagakure to walk back to class. During this time, the three of you chatted about Hagakure’s lunch date.
“I swear he likes you, you should just confess already,” Ashido whispered so no one else could overhear.
“Shut up!” Hagakure playfully pushed her friend away which barely moved Mina.
The three of you continued to chat away, you not talking nearly as much as the other two. However, the walk home was still fun. When you got home, you all placed your jackets on your respective coat racks and took off your shoes. Hagakure and Ashido went to grab a snack while you excused yourself with the excuse of needing to do homework.
Honestly, you were ahead on your homework and could definitely spend some time relaxing with the girls. However, all day, you had been thinking about your hero costume and craved drawing up a design for a new costume. Furthermore, the stress of lunch made you want to destress by fantasizing about the perfect hero costume.
Relieved, you entered your room, took off your school uniform, and changed into your hero uniform. You then spent the next few minutes analyzing and critiquing everything you hated about it. On a piece of paper, you jotted down all your ideas to change the hero costume.
After what seemed like half an hour, you sat down at your desk and began sketching out a similar sketch to the one you made in class. The costume featured loose pants that tightened at your shins only to be wrapped in armor. Your top had armor wrapped around your waist as well but left your chest loose to help with mobility. Additionally, on top of your shoulder were two curved spikes, mainly just for fashion.
It seemed like so long ago since you started drawing this costume. You had gone through multiple papers, with two of them being filled completely with notes on what you wanted to be featured in this new costume.
You bit your lips in concentration, finding all the flaws you could in your less than pretty drawing. You were not the best artist and it didn’t help that you were struggling to contemplate all the changes you wanted.
Maybe I’m going to need more help with this costume than I think.
Defeated, you opened your computer and searched for local costume designers. You found a few options and were getting more into your research on the person you would most likely be paying hundreds of dollars to before you heard a small gurgling sound.
It was your stomach.
You looked at the clock on your computer and saw that it was half-past eight.
“Holy shit,” You whispered in shock as you thought back to the literal hours you spent on fixing your costume. You had barely achieved anything on top of that. Nevertheless, you closed your laptop and changed into a different outfit before making your way downstairs to hopefully find some food.
As you came downstairs and walked into the kitchen, you noted that Kirishima, Mina, and Bakugou were all sitting in the living room. Kirishima and Mina were both watching a movie on someone’s laptop while Bakugou more or less just stared at his phone the whole time.
It looked like they were on a date and dragged Bakugou along because they didn’t want to admit it was a date. As you walked past them and stared at the scene, you paid no attention to what was in front of you and ended up walking right into the dining table.
“Fuck!” You groaned as you grabbed your side to try and soothe the aching pain.
The sounds of the movie stopped and you looked up to see all three people looking at you.
“Are you okay?” Mina asked as she stood up. “Let me grab you an ice pack.”
“Nah, I’m good,” You responded. “I just wasn’t paying attention.” You chuckled to try and lighten the mood.
Tentatively, Ashido sat back down in her seat. “Where have you been all day, anyway?” She asked after it seemed like you recovered enough.
“Oh, I just got distracted upstairs. I didn’t realize how late it was, so I was gonna grab some food,” You replied.
“There’s no dinner left,” Kirishima sheepishly explained as you made your way to the kitchen.
“And we are kind of low on food,” Mina added while you looked through the fridge and cabinets.
You hummed in response and rummaged through every cabinet. After taking a look around, you realized all the food you all had would result in you having to cook. You bit your lip, fully aware that you were too lazy to cook anything.
Maybe I should go get some food. There is a convenient store right next to the campus.
You walked to the coat rack and grabbed your coat off the hanger. “I’m gonna go to the convenience store to get some food, just some instant noodles or something,” You explained to the three other people downstairs.
“What?” Mina interrupted as you opened the door. “This late? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
You bent down to slip on your shoes before standing up again. You shrugged to the two people actually paying attention to you. “I’m hungry and don’t wanna cook.”
“Bakugou can cook!” Mina exclaimed while putting her hand on his shoulder
“Shut up,” He grumbled while shrugging her hand off him. “I don’t want to cook.”
“Well, hey!” Kirishima exclaimed as he jumped over the back of the couch to meet up with you. “I can’t let a young lady walk around at night without a manly guy to protect her.” He grinned at you and slid on his coat and shoes.
Honestly, it felt great that someone would be coming with you because you would be walking around an area you weren’t quite familiar with yet.
Suddenly, Bakugou stood up and made his way to you.
“You coming, bro?” Kirishima asked. “Damn, must be j--”
“Shut up,” Bakugou barked, “If you’re going then so am I.”  Silently, Bakugou put on his sweater and shoes while Kirishima chuckled and patted his friend on the back.
“Wait!” Ashido exclaimed. “I don’t wanna be left out,” She said as she walked around the couch to meet you at the door. “We don’t have any movie snacks anyways.” She quickly slipped on her shoes and cheetah print coat. She grinned happily at Kirishima who matched her cheery face with his own.
Even though you were now a group of four, Bakugou did not bring you much comfort and seeing the lovey-dovey Ashido and Kirishima blushing at each other made you feel like a third wheel.
“Let’s hurry. I’m tired,” Bakugou groaned as he put his phone away and opened the door.
“Of course you’re tired, you are usually in bed by now,” Kirishima laughed as you followed behind Bakugou.
Mina exited after you. “Bakugou,” She began, “I don’t know how you fall asleep so early and then also wake up so late, almost at noon.”
That brief conversation sparked an interest in you. Not only had you seen Bakugou up late just a couple days ago, but he also thought about how precious that alone time was for him. If not only for a moment, Bakugou looked towards you before looking forward again.
If you weren’t looking at him, you would not have noticed. However, you were lucky enough to be looking at him and smart enough to know that he was also thinking about that night.
“That’s none of your business,” Bakugou finally replied, his voice eerily quiet yet agitated, as Kirishima closed the door.
Kirishima just laughed as a result and Ashido shrugged at you. You shrugged back, nonetheless curious about Bakugou’s sleep schedule.
Silently, you followed the other four throughout campus. As you walked, a pattern formed where Kirishima and Ashido were walking upfront with you and Bakugou trailing behind. The silence between you and Bakugou was rather awkward and you spent most of your time observing the couple in front of you.
You knew they weren’t dating, but a stranger may just think they were in a relationship. The only thing that someone would notice that could make an argument for them not being a couple was the nervousness, blushing, and lack of PDA. Nonetheless, they still had their hands all over each other and were flirting nonstop.
“It’s gross isn’t it?”
You looked to your left at the sound of Bakugou speaking to you. “Uhh,” You looked away from the fierce red eyes to look at the couple again. Ashido had just teasingly shoved Kirishima while laughing incredibly loud at one of his jokes. “I guess so. I don’t really mind.”
Bakugou scoffed. “You probably don’t mind because you just met them.”
You gave Bakugou a puzzled face, silently asking him to elaborate.
“They’ve known each other since middle school and have been acting like this since the end of our first year,” Bakugou responded. Although you didn’t purposefully try to analyze Bakugou’s voice, you noted his rough, coarse, and tired voice.
I bet he has no clue how attractive he is. Big muscles, deep voice, and messy hair that falls in front of his tired, piercing, red eyes.
You bit your lip and forced yourself to focus back on the conversation. “Ah,” You replied. “It’s just like that sometimes, “You shrugged your shoulders as you spoke, “Hagakure and Ojiro are the same way.”
The conversation died for a moment as you finally made your way off campus and started the trek to the store nearby.
“Who?!” Bakugou finally barked as if he actually took the time to try and remember who they were.
You rolled your eyes and laughed, remembering when Kirishima had to call everyone by a certain nickname. “I think you know them by the invisible girl and tail guy.”
“Ugh, those two?” Bakugou groaned. “They’ve been like that since day one. So bland and boring.”
“Bland and boring?” You repeated, scoffing at the wording. “What does that even mean?”
“They should just date if they want to, it doesn’t matter,” Bakugou groaned.
“Why doesn’t it matter?” You questioned him.
Bakugou looked at you before looking back ahead. After a moment, he mumbled, “Nevermind.”
Apparently, that was his cue to end the conversation, and you decided not to try and push your luck at the moment.
However, that gave yourself some time back to your own thoughts, specifically your thoughts regarding your hero costume. You had made a mental list of all the costume designers you found and liked. The list included their names, average pricing, and specialties. If you were to hire someone to help you with your costume design, you were most definitely going to be thorough in picking someone you could work well with.
Soon enough, your group arrived at the convenience store and brought you out of your deep thoughts. You quickly made your way inside to grab snacks and food. You looked through the large selection of meals and instant noodles, not quite sure what to pick. Asian convenience stores were much more diverse and impressive compared to American stores. Because of this, you didn’t quite know what to pick. Comparatively, Ashido and Kirishima flew through the isles, grabbing a plethora of foods without even having to cautiously look at the label.
This was one of the few times you felt silly. You did not speak perfect Japanese, and you had to meticulously read everything on the box to make sure you knew what you were eating. You felt bad that you might hold up the group and you were tempted to just grab something and suffer the possible consequences.
“Here.”
You looked up to see Bakugou handing you a large package of noodles. You curiously took the box and started reading it.
“Don’t bother. It has more veggies than other ramen and is the right amount of spice for food this late,” Bakugou mumbled as he grabbed himself a box too. However, his box had more red on it and you assumed it was spicier.
“Thanks,” You quietly replied. It was nice of Bakugou to grab food for you, preemptively knowing exactly what you were looking for. You brushed the thought away, telling yourself it was more likely that he was doing this because he wanted to be home as soon as possible.
Bakugou nonchalantly hummed in response before looking around the store, his head peeking just over the shelves. “We need some other stuff too.”
Or maybe not. Maybe Bakugou was once again making you a meal, ensuring that you were eating well.
No, don’t read too much into this. Bakugou isn’t a relationship person and you aren’t in the best place to be in a relationship.
Silently, you followed Bakugou around the store as he grabbed a package of strawberries, which he practically threw at you, and some pre-baked tofu. He also grabbed a small package of seaweed and two drinks.
You continued to follow Bakugou around the store and up to the counter. He dropped everything on the counter and you also placed your package of noodles and strawberries on the counter. The older lady working at the counter smiled politely as she scanned everything placed on the counter.
Although you were rather clueless about why Bakugou was being kind and once again making sure you ate well, you were able to recover once you saw Bakugou grab out his wallet.
“No, no, no,” You interrupted and pulled out your own wallet, and the cash you had.
Bakugou looked at you as if you were crazy and you used that moment to push enough money forward to pay for the meal.
The cashier chuckled sweetly and accepted your cash. Bakugou groaned and leaned back on his foot, upset that you were paying.
It’s for the best, you thought as the cashier leaned forward to place the change in your hand.
“You two are such a cute couple,” She whispered to only you as she placed your change into your hand.
Just as quickly as she spoke, she pushed herself back to being upright and began bagging the food.
While completely red, you looked to Bakugou to see if he heard her comment. “What?” He groaned as he glared at you.
“Nothing,” You mumbled back and looked down to place the money back into your wallet.
Bakugou grabbed the bag of food from the woman and you bowed to say thank you, before following behind Bakugou to exit the building.
Outside, Kirishima and Ashido waited for you two with a bag of their own snacks and smiles on their faces.
“Y/L/N-kun,” Ashido yelled as she ran up to you, pulling you out of your trance. Ashido grabbed your arm and whispered to you, “Come walk with me!”
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flor3nces · 4 years
Text
among us | harry potter x slytherin!fem!reader
hi! just know that ive never read nor watched the harry potter series so this is not 100% accurate. then again this is a bit of my take on how i think these certain characters would act when introduced to a muggle game. although i do have my fair share of knowledge about the characters and such. i might make a part two to this that shows the reader play with the malfoys if they agreee to do so. you can see harry j. potter x reader if you squint just a little bit! anyways, enjoy reading! <3
y/n had recently been into this new game called, “among us.” she was utterly fascinated by the muggle world and would often spend her summers in muggle london as they would call it.
her friends at hogwarts would look at her as if she were crazy everytime she told them she would be spending time there. y/n was used to it though. it never really bothered her.
it took the golden trio a while to warm up to y/n. they weren’t so sure if she was just befriending them to rat them out to umbridge but as time passed they realized that wasn’t the case.
“slow down gryffindors!” y/n had been wanting to play with them ever since she found out about the game when she snuck off one night.
the three friends stopped at the voice. they were discussing what they were going to do for the summer before a certain y/h/c haired girl called out.
hermione loved having another girl around, she could only handle hearing about quidditch so much. the boys weren’t so happy as both the girls often teamed up against in whatever it was they were doing.
“hey y/n.”
the girl sent them a huge smile. “okay, so there’s this new game-“
“if it’s not quidditch, does it really matter?”
y/n raised her brow at ron as if challenging him to continue. the weasley quickly shut his mouth. although he has known her for quite a while now she could still be very intimidating.
“as i was saying, i think we should play it on the first day of summer. i know you three are spending it together so i thought we could play it before that.”
the three looked at one another before looking back at her. they had been wanting to invite her to spend the summer over at the burrow but draco had beaten them to it.
it absolutely baffled them that y/n was even friends with him. although, she was slytherin they figured she wouldn’t want to talk to him as she was friends with them. while it may have been foolish for them to think that, they couldn’t help it.
“what is it?”
harry watched as y/n’s eyes lit up as his question. “okay so,” the girl started walking towards the courtyard, her friends right behind, “it’s called “among us” and it’s a super fun game. it may be a muggle game but merlin is it fun! i played last night with some of my friends and had a blast.”
y/n turned around as she was saying her last words to look at her friends faces. “how do you know about it if you’ve been here at hogwarts all this time?”
hermione rolled her eyes at ron’s stupid question. “she obviously snuck off last night, ronald.” ron shot a glare towards the brunette before turning his attention back towards y/n.
“so, will you guys play? it’s alright if you don’t want to! i just thought you’d guys enj-“
harry cut her off. he couldn’t stand listening to y/n ramble nervously as she thought they might say no. “we’d love to. it sounds like fun.”
again, he didn’t miss the way her eyes light up. “explain the rules and we’ll play tomorrow.”
hermione and ron nodded at their best friends words. y/n couldn’t have been happier. she didn’t think she could handle hearing no from them.
***
“i want to be red, harry!”
y/n had suggested they play on computers. it took her about a good hour or so to teach harry, ron, ginny, the twins, luna and neville how to use it. hermione already knew how as she had grown up with muggle parents and they had a computer of their own at home.
the boys had been arguing over who was going to be red for the past ten minutes. everyone was spread out, but they had mistakenly put ron and harry a bit too close.
almost everyone had already picked out their colors. the twins were black and white. ginny, purple. neville, dark green. hermione, orange. luna, blue. y/n, yellow.
“i’m the chosen one, i should be able to get whatever color i want.”
everyone rolled their eyes at this. harry often pulls the “i’m the chosen one” card everytime he wants something. “harry, for the love of merlin, just let ron be red and you can have light green.”
y/n had had enough of listening to the two boys bicker. hermione was about to yell at them but y/n beat her to it. much to hermione’s dismay, y/n had only used a stern tone with them.
harry glared at ron before grumpily changing his color. ron stuck his tongue out at him and chose the color red with a smile.
the twins snickered at harry’s face. it always brought them so much joy watching harry and ron argue. as they could never stay on a single topic for more than five minutes before moving onto another.
“can i press start now?” neville asked. y/n sent the boy a soft smile before nodding.
***
ginny let out a gasp. everyone’s brows raised at the sound. “where?” y/n asked.
“it was in navigation.”
“right, who killed luna!” luna let out a laugh as she sat back and watched her friends debate on who they thought the imposter was.
“i bet it was ron.” harry was obviously still bitter about having to change his color, not that he’d ever admit it out loud. “oh, shove off harry! i was with you and you know it!”
everyone let out small giggles at this. “it might be one of the twins.” ginny looked at her brothers quickly as she was ready to vote either of them out. “but who?” hermonie was so close to finishing her task and then ginny discovered a body.
“i don’t know nevilles been awfully quiet, you guys.” george said. “yeah, he probably killed luna.” fred added on.
“my vote is still with ron.”
“i was with you the whole time!”
harry mocks ron as he votes. “i’m voting fred.” hermonie nodded at y/n’s words voting for the slightly taller twin aswell.
ginny went for fred while as the twins and neville went for hermonie. ron voted harry just to piss him off.
“what! i’m not the imposter!” hermonie exclaimed. “you were quick to vote for me.” george nodded at his twins words.
***
“stop following me ron!”
y/n was running around aimlessly as she had finished her task and was looking for hermonie. unfortunately, for her ron was starting to follow her.
“why? the buddy system, y/n, the buddy system.”
“screw the buddy system, ron! get away from me.”
fred and neville had found both ron and y/n. “ha! now you can’t kill me because you have witnesses.”
fred went for the kill first. neville following soon after. the gryffindor boys vented to separate places. “y/n and ron were dead in security.”
“it’s fred, i’m telling you guys!”
“no it’s not, hermonie.”
“vote fred. don’t listen to him.”
ginny didn’t have to be told twice. “don’t worry y/n i’ll avenge you!” ron mocked a hurt expression. “and me right?”
“yeah, yeah. you too.” ginny waved her hand dismissively. harry tried to cover up his laugh but failed and let out a snort.
“oh, shut up harry!”
***
everyone quickly became obsessed with the game. the weasleys, hermonie, and harry often writing letters to y/n, asking her when they could play again. neville and luna sending letters as well.
the slytherin girl couldn’t help but feel proud at this. she decided to take her chances and show it to the malfoy’s.
though she knew it might take a whole load of convincing them, she weighed out the pros and cons.
lucius liked her enough to not hex her for asking to play a muggle game. draco had come to adore muggle london, though he would never admit it. and narcissa was always willing to try something new to get her family together.
if they said no, she could always just ask draco to play with her. but even then he might say no. that’d hurt her a bit if he did. y/n didn’t mind playing by herself in a game with random people. she just preferred playing with friends.
“i think we should have a game night.”
bringing it up during dinner was the best idea. that way she’d at least have time to run a few feet from lucius before he’d hex her.
the malfoy’s perked up at this. they haven’t had a family game night ever since draco got into his third year at hogwarts.
narcissa told it upon herself to ask what they were playing, figuring as neither her husband nor son would ask.
“so.. um.. it’s a muggle game?”
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themuzzleofnemesis · 4 years
Text
Prologue--The Intruders
The Muzzle of Nemesis, pages 4-15
When I looked out the window, I saw that at some point it had started snowing.
The inside of the hospital had heating, so I didn’t feel the cold even in my light clothes. When I pulled my eyes from the window and looked to the bulletin board, I saw a sheet of paper was pinned to it declaring that the Christmas party had been canceled.
That there was no sign of anyone in town wasn't just because of the snow. Nobody had the time or resources to celebrate Christmas anymore.
How many people are even left in the world in the first place?, I wondered. Probably half of when the population was at its highest--no, even less than that. Even the news playing on the radio never reported any precise numbers, perhaps because it was being restricted.
Though, I was certain it hadn't yet dropped to "0".
Because I was still here, at least.
Even so, the day when I wouldn't be wasn't far off.
There were many things I needed to do before the world fell to ruin completely.
.
My colleagues had all returned to their homes. It seemed I was the only one in the hospital.
The patient beds were also empty, but that wasn’t necessarily limited to tonight. This hospital wasn’t a facility made to cure “normal” patients to begin with.
It would probably be more accurate not to call this a hospital but rather a "research facility". People who had a very specific ailment were quarantined here, and made the subjects of research—however, our last patient died just the other day.
She had pressed her switch herself--in a word, "suicide".
So it wasn’t like we could carry out any new clinical studies by working overtime. The director had told everyone to go home and spend time with their families for the night, but I didn’t feel like doing that at all.
I’m aware that I’m a bit eccentric, but my mother and my brother are even weirder than I am. And I saw them practically every day as coworkers in this very hospital, so there was no need for all three of us to get together and spend Christmas at home tonight.
My mother and brother probably hadn't gone home either. My mother was most likely staying overnight with some new man, and my brother was--well, he'd be tottering around somewhere, dressed like a woman, as usual.
Even without a test subject, there was still a large amount of clinical data that had yet to be put in order. I was at my desk tonight to put it all together into a single thesis.
There wasn’t necessarily a place I could publish the thesis once it was finished. And there was no guarantee that it would be of any use.
But when the day came, I would stop being able to perform the research I had been doing up until now. When the project moved into its next stage, I would be given a different role.
I wanted to bring all that research to an end before then, no matter what.
.
The sound coming from the radio had cut off. The broadcast for today had finished.
I didn’t do well with this stillness, without any white noise in the background. All the more in the middle of the night like this.
It's not--that I'm afraid or anything.
It was right when I stood and drew towards my antique music player, intending to have some kind of white noise in the background
"--Evening."
I unintentionally gave a start at the sudden voice that I heard behind me.
"Who's there!?"
I fearfully turned around.
The entrance door was open, and there was someone standing there--Although well, it’d be even more frightening if there had been just the voice with no one standing there.
They were short, wearing a cap that hung so low as to conceal their eyes, and the collar of their coat hid their mouth.
For a moment I thought, "Santa Claus?", because their coat was red, but of course that couldn't be it. Thinking on it realistically, the kind of visitor who would come here suddenly in the middle of the night like this—would probably be a burglar, or a deviant; no one here for anything good, at any rate.
I took out a pistol that had been carelessly left on top of a locker and pointed it at the other person.
"Get out. Anyone who’s not authorized is forbidden to be here."
Even though they had a gun pointed at them, this person didn't falter in the slightest. I couldn't see their face so I didn't know what expression they had on, but they didn't run away or put their hands up, simply standing at attention and saying, "How odd for a gun to be in a hospital."
They sounded young. It appeared to me that it was either a young boy's voice, or a girl speaking with an attempt to imitate a male tone.
"A product of the times. You never know when you're going to be attacked by some deviant, so it's only natural, don't you think?"
"These 'deviants' you're talking about--do you mean the people who become your research subjects?"
"Yeah, you could say that. And…people like you."
He reached a hand into his coat, and pulled something out.
The moment I realized it was a gun--I pulled the trigger without hesitation.
"--!?”
--The bullet passed right by the other’s head, and embedded itself into the far wall.
“You missed. Or…perhaps you did that on purpose. If so, you have quite good aim.”
"Next time I'll hit you for real. --I'll say it again, get out of here now!"
He flung the gun that he was carrying onto the floor, and finally raised both hands.
But even so, he still didn't move to leave.
“Please don’t misunderstand—I’m not a thief, and I’m not a deviant like you’re thinking. I came here seeking a psychiatric examination.”
"I see. Seems like you need one."
"It's not for me."
So saying, he left the room.
I’d chased him off—Though I was only left to think that for a moment, as he then returned to the room pushing along a wheelchair.
A girl was sitting in that wheelchair. She seemed conscious but her eyes were empty, and simply showed no sanity at all.
"She’s the one I want you to diagnose. Her name is Nemesis Sudou. Sadly, due to what she’s faced she has fallen to this doll-like state you see now.”
“Unfortunately I don’t take walk-ins. You’ll have to properly set up an appointment and come back during the day.”
But he shook his head in refusal.
"I can't do that. We don't have a lot of time left."
“Your problems aren’t my concern.”
“…But we came all this way. I’m sorry, but I’ll force you to do this examination if I have to.”
I could hear the sound of glass breaking from outside the room.
At the same time, there was the cacophony of several men’s voices.
Apparently, this person and the girl in the wheelchair weren't the only intruders.
“The building is already surrounded. Even with a gun, you’re completely outnumbered.”
I didn’t know if what he said was true or a bluff—and I figured that testing that would be a risky gamble.
“…I’d like some guarantee of my life, at least.”
"Of course. Please relax about that. I haven’t the slightest intention of killing you--Dr. Levia Barisol."
“That’s not very persuasive, coming from someone who deliberately wields a gun.”
"Ah…you mean this?"
He scooped up the gun that he’d dropped and then held it out to me.
"It's not loaded. I didn't really bring it here as a weapon."
"Then…why did you?"
I took the gun. It was a revolver, but of very old make.
"She--Nemesis once killed six individuals with this gun."
"Oh, she's a murderer, is she? Then perhaps instead of taking her here you should go to the police?"
“You know yourself that the police aren’t really functioning anymore, don’t you?”
"…True."
It was as he said. Hence a mere researcher like me having a gun.
Right now I was in a world where I had to protect myself, by myself.
“—Well then, what should I be examining about this criminal?”
"I want to know about Nemesis' life. How she lived, and how she came to kill those six people."
"Are you not…an acquaintance of hers?"
"Acquaintance…I suppose so. I know her. But I don't know much about Nemesis."
"I don't understand what you mean when you say that."
"Don't worry, you too will understand that…that is, if you examine her mind.”
This entire time he had been speaking with a calm tone, but I felt as though I was getting glimpses of desperation underneath.
As a psychologist I was somewhat interested in his state of mind, but first it seemed I wouldn’t be able to evade this situation without examining this girl named Nemesis.
"Nice to meet you, Ms. Nemesis," I said to her.
For a moment her eyes flickered in my direction, but then she immediately started staring off into the distance.
Next, I lightly patted her cheek with my hand. There was a reaction, but she didn’t move to brush my hand away, merely keeping silent.
"…There's just one problem." I took my hand from her and said to her attendant, "Looking at the state of her right now, it seems like any kind of mutual understanding will be difficult. I’ll be unable to perform an initial counseling session.”
"Right. Normally, that would be the case. But--isn't there another avenue you can take, Dr. Levia?"
So, he'd come here because he knew about me--about my "ability".
In that case, any half-hearted deception I tried wouldn’t fly.
“Feh.” After I made a harsh sigh, I steeled my resolve and turned to him once more. “So, you want the ‘Swap’—Mind type.”
“Yes, exactly. I’m grateful you’re so quick on the uptake.”
“It’s a very dangerous method. In a worst case scenario it could have a significant negative effect on the subject’s mind—"
“There’s no problem there. As you can see, she was broken a long time ago.”
“…I don’t care much for putting it that way. You shouldn’t be using a word like ‘broken’ to refer to a human being.”
“I apologize if I’ve offended…But I didn’t come here tonight to debate with you over ethics and word choice. Please answer me—yes, or no?”
I had an uncomfortable feeling. Judging by his voice, the person before me was quite young, but yet he was too calm. Talking with him gave me the impression that I was interacting with some elderly person who had walked a life of several decades.
He had said he wasn’t a thief or a deviant. And that he had no intention of killing me.
However—he also hadn’t said a word about not harming me.
…This didn’t seem to me like a situation where I could simply say “no”.
“—Alright. But we’ll need some preparation to perform the ‘Swap’. Will you give me some time for that?”
“Please work as fast as you can.”
He sat down in the chair that I had been sitting in shortly before.
It didn’t look like he was going to leave the room until the preparations were done.
.
--The ‘Swap’ was a special psychiatric examination technique discovered and advocated for by the head of this facility, Professor Held Yggdra.
In principle perhaps you could say it’s a scientific revival of the occult that spans across both the Eastern and Western world. Well, simply put, it is a method through which one can vicariously experience parts of a subject’s life by aligning with their mind.
Naturally, the only people who would be able to do this single-handedly are those with extrasensory perception or psychic mediums (if such people were to actually exist)
But thanks to collaborative research with authorities of other fields, Professor Held was able to successfully construct a device which would make it possible to create a visualization of the mind using brain wave analysis, and to align it with that of another person.
This was a revolutionary invention, but at the same time it had several problems. In order to align with the subject’s mind, it followed that you would need someone to perform this task. But it was also established that the practitioner would need a certain "ability”.
To enter into the consciousness of another means to have two minds co-habiting inside one being. It would be impossible for a normal person to bear such an enormous strain.
Many tests were conducted to find someone with the ability to be this practitioner—this so-called “licensed person”—and I was one of several others who were ultimately selected.
This device that carried out the “Swap”…popularly named the “Black Box”, wound up being used for research in other fields as well. For example, the physicist Seth Twiright (one of the other developers of the Black Box) was able to carry out the observation of parallel worlds, which had until this point had their very existence disputed. That would likely have become the talk of the world if it wasn’t currently in chaos from the destruction crisis that was going on right now.
The Black Box has also been a great aid to my own research as well. My psychiatric analytical methods of the deviants who are responsible for the chaos of the world—technically named “HER”s—have progressed by leaps and bounds thanks to the Black Box.
…Though, well, that wasn’t always a good thing.
.
“That’s quite a large-scale device,” the red-coated boy said to me as I had the girl named Nemesis sit down in the Black Box, now fully prepped.
“It’s actually much smaller than the prototype.”
“I see…So, this—is the Black Box.”
“Are you interested in this kind of machine? Though, the average person’s not liable to ever lay eyes on one, so I suppose that does make it a curiosity.”
"Huh? …Yeah, well, that’s true.”
As the name suggested, the device had an exterior that looked like a black box. It was large enough that two people could just barely fit inside, and there were two seats set up in its interior for the “subject” and the “licensed person” to sit in.
After putting Nemesis in the seat for the subject, I connected several wires to her. I could stab the needle directly into her head…--Of course I wouldn’t do anything savage like that, but still, when I had all of the arrangements settled she had electric wires wrapped around her entire body.
Now then…this is the annoying part.
I had to do the same for myself. This is ordinarily where I would have an aide give me some assistance, but unfortunately the only people here were myself, Nemesis, and…the boy in the red coat.
“You—err, what’s your name?” I asked him.
“Me? …Right. Well—just call me ‘Postman’.”
“That’s an obviously fake name. …Whatever. Well then, Mister Postman. Could you lend me a hand?”
After I sat down in the seat for the “licensed person”, Postman went to attach the wires under my instruction.
“—Is this okay?”
“Yeah, it’s perfect. …Okay, lastly…Please press that red switch. When you do, the ‘Swap’ will commence.”
“Finally.”
“Once you press the switch, leave the Black Box within thirty seconds. After that don’t touch the machine while it’s in operation. Worst case, the hospital will be blown away, not to mention the device.”
That was, as one might expect, a lie, but I figured I ought to say that much.
“So all I can do is wait, huh? How long do you expect it to be until it finishes?”
“That depends on the mind of the subject, but…Whatever the case I’ll make the device halt after an hour.”
“An hour?”
“Neither mine nor the subjects’ spirits will be able to handle any more than that. I’ll probably have to take several breaks to see everything relating to these ‘six people’ you spoke of—the people she’s killed.”
“Nothing for it. If you say you have to. …Well then, I’m pushing the switch.”
Postman pushed the red button with his finger as directed, and immediately left the device.
The black door slowly closed up.
Sigh…What an annoyance, having to align my spirit with that of a murderer.
Sighing inwardly, I began to prepare my mind for the ‘Swap’.
.
Another person’s life. Their experiences.
The next time I was called to consciousness, I—had become Nemesis.
directory------next>>
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