#where I pretended to be a new hire and was immediately Welcomed To The Team

[wandussyfantasy]

Free Use (WandaNat)

Summary: After the events of Feeling Twenty-Two, Wanda invites you to stay with her and Natasha as long as you please. With the condition that they can have you whenever they want.

Word Count: 2.1k

WARNINGS:

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT READ & DO NOT INTERACT!!!

bottom fem reader, g!p Wanda, g!p Nat, oral, threesome, legal age gap, praising, degrading, creampie, and freeuse

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

“I just don't understand why you won't tell us where you're moving to?” Kate gripes as she moves a box of your things into the moving truck. Wanda was happy to pay for it and even offered to hire movers but you didn't want to explain something you couldn't afford to your friends. After your trip to your home town, you returned to start a new semester at school. But you couldn't stop thinking about the women who made your twenty second birthday the most memorable birthday ever. They even took care of you the next morning and you never wanted to leave but you told them you had a flight a couple days from then that you couldn't miss. They understood and Wanda made you an offer that she allowed you to think about. She didn't want an immediate answer. She wanted you to think about it.

Which you did, every moment of every day. It was an unusual offer. But it was also a very beneficial one. It took her until the end of her summer break to feel confident in an answer. She had gone on several bad dates within that time and no one caught her eye enough to have a one night stand with. But she had plenty of nights by herself, masterbating to the memories of that night. 

“Kate, will you please drop it? I’ll come visit when I can. Besides, we have a few classes together. It's not the end of the world,” you say to comfort your friend. When you finally called Wanda and agreed, she invited you to her office. She is a lawyer, so she had a few legal documents of the arrangement drawn up. There is a discretion clause, meaning that you couldn't just parade around that you agreed to be a sex object for the couple. She said that you are allowed to have outside relationships and even have friends over at the house. But until you could figure out a way to explain your situation without explaining it, you didn't want your friends and family to know anything.

“Alright, I guess I can't say anything to make you stay,” Kate throws her hands up in defeat. “Just know, it's your fault if I end up in prison.”

You laugh at the thought of her blaming you for her actions. “How would that be my fault?”

Kate shrugs, “You keep me from doing stupid stuff. Now I can do all of the stupid stuff I want.”

You shake your head, “I’m sure your new girlfriend will supervise you.”

“Yelena will be in the cell with me, excuse you,” she pretends to be offended. 

The two of you share a laugh. You look around to see that everything you own is inside of the moving truck. “I’ll see you in class next week,” you pull your now former roommate into a tight hug. 

“I’m not going to see you for a whole week!” she is upset by the idea, but you couldn't promise any sooner. Not when it's your first week on the job. 

Live-in Nanny, is your official title. They don't have kids or even pets for that matter. But it looks good on paper for when you have to get a job after graduation and employers won't ask too many questions. “You’ll be fine without me for a week,” you say as you shut and lock the truck. 

You pull Kate into a quick hug before getting into the cab of the vehicle. You are anxious to get to Wanda and Natasha’s. Wanda had messaged you that they have a special welcome home celebration planned. You wanted to be there several hours ago. 

Arriving at the mansion again, your pussy gets wet at the first memories made here. The night of fucking and the morning of aftercare. Oh how excited you are to be back here. Once you park the vehicle, a moving team is ready to unpack the truck. You climb out and look at Wanda and Natasha with confusion written all over your face. “As excited as we are for you to move in, we aren’t going to waste time with that,” Natasha explains. 

“It’s not a waste of time,” Wanda corrects her wife. “We would have been happy to help you move in,” Wanda guides you into the house with an arm around you. “We just thought it was to preserve our energy for… other things.” You shift as you think about what the energy will be spent. 

“The little whore wants to ride our dicks while the movers work,” Natasha says to her wife in a low tone. Wanda shakes her head.

“Well, she will have to wait. I made a special dinner.” Wanda surprises you with a kiss on your neck. “But don't worry, babe, we'll have fun as soon as your stuff is moved in and the audience is gone,” she promises. 

“Of course, uh, what are we having?” Walking into the dining room, your question is answered without either having to say a word. Displayed among an extravagant dining table is a full spread of delicious looking food. “You really didn't have to,” you say to Wanda. 

“We know,” Natasha says as she pulls a chair out for herself. “But that's what makes Wanda so amazing,” she blows a kiss to her wife. She blushes and you love the way the couple interacts with each other. Wanda informed you that they've been together for close to eleven years but only married for four years. You asked her why they wanted to include you if they were happy with each other. Wanda told you that they have always wanted to have a more polyamorous relationship. But never could find someone that worked for both of them. Sure, there were people that were okay with being with a married person. But there weren't many that were okay with being with both Wanda and Natasha. You are the first. 

The meal is fun and easy. You were worried that although there is a great sexual chemistry, there might not be any other connection. But, those fears fade as the three of you engage in conversation for hours without an awkward silence. The food was amazing and you made sure to compliment Wanda. She flushed and asked you to stop raving, “You can thank me later,” she continued suggestively.

“I most definitely will,” you say as you imagine what you're going to do with her once you can. 

The three of you move to the living area to watch a movie. They insist that you sit in the middle and snuggle up to you shortly after the film starts. Halfway through the movie, the manager of the moving crew informs you all that they are finished. Wanda gets up to pay the man and his team. She leads him away and once the front door shuts, Natasha nudges you onto her lap. You comply out of curiosity and feel her erection at your entrance. She tries to pull down your yoga pants but finds it difficult to do so. Annoyed, Natasha rips the pants open so that your ass and pussy are exposed. She roughly massages your ass as you continue to watch the movie while getting increasingly aroused. 

Then, Natasha unzips her jeans and pulls herself out. She rubs her cock along your entrance, getting it covered in your juices. “Of course, you're ready for me,” she slips inside and you let out a low moan. Natasha bounces you on her cock. “Oh I hate this part of the movie,” she says. 

“Yeah, it's, it's, it's not my favorite,” you respond. When Wanda returns, she has a bowl of popcorn and she sits comfortably next to you and Natasha. You get turned on even more as they go about things as normal while Natasha is fucking you. When you had signed the contract and agreed to the FreeUse clause, you had no idea just how much you were going to enjoy it. 

Natasha cums inside of you and plops you back onto the sofa. She tucks her softening cock away and they pick the next movie. Wanda takes your hand and places it over her bulge. You hungrily release her penis from the tightening pants and put it in your mouth. You love the taste of her cock, especially her cum which you are working hard to earn. Already on your first day, you have cum dripping from your pussy and cum in your mouth. You are going to love it here.

A few weeks later, you are laying on your bed as you study for an exam when Wanda enters the room. Her cock is standing out of her pants and she climbs onto the bed, hovering over your body from behind. She enters you without warning and you gasp. “Hey Wanda,” you greet as she slowly humps into you. 

“Hey darling,” she kisses your neck. “What are you working on?” 

“I have an exam at the end of the week, just getting some studying out of the way,” you say. Wanda reaches around your body to play with your clitoris, causing you to clench around her thick cock. 

“That’s great, I love how studious you are.” Wanda praises. “You’re going to make a great business woman one day.”

“Thank you, baby. That means a lot coming from you. Oooh,” Wanda picks up her pace a little bit and you start to lose focus on your notes. She rubs your clit harder and harder until your body is spasming around her cock, milking her cum out of her. 

Wanda doesn't leave before eating out the mess from your pussy, giving you another organism. She kisses you and wishes you luck with your studying. You thank her and she is gone. 

A couple days later, you are making breakfast when Natasha walks in with her morning wood. “Wanda already left for work,” she says as she roughly enters you. She doesn't have a lot of time so she pounds into you until she is ready to cum. She pulls out and shoots her sperm on your back. “That looks good, have a plate ready for me when I come back down, please.” 

“Of course,” you say as you finish making the meal. 

One day, you arrive home after class to find Wanda and Natasha fucking on the kitchen table. You drop your things to join them. Gravitating to Wanda’s cock to suck on her as Natasha rams her cock into the woman's pussy. “Welcome home,” Wanda says through gasps. “How was your day?”

You pop her cock out of your mouth to answer. “It was good, I'm happy to be home though.” You take her cock back into your mouth and Wanda's head falls back at the over stimulation of her cock and pussy at the same time. When she is cumming, Natasha swiftly pulls out of her and pulls you off of Wanda by your hair and shoves her cock into your mouth. Wanda's cum continues to shoot out, making a mess on her stomach and table. Natasha fucks your face ruthlessly until she is releasing her orgasm in your mouth. 

“We’re so happy to have you back,” Natasha says through her grunts. She pulls out of your mouth breathlessly and looks at her dirty wife. “Clean her up,” she orders you as she walks away. 

Dutifully, you nod and start to lick up all of Wanda’s cum. “Thank you, baby,” she says as she lazily strokes your hair. You kiss her belly once it's only glistening with your saliva. She looks so beautiful and delicious splayed out naked on the table. You can't help kissing the rest of the way down to have your tongue in her sensitive pussy. “Ohhh,” Wanda says as you lick her just the way she likes. “I’m so happy you agreed to love us,” she says. 

“Not as happy as I am,” you reply sweetly. “Besides, it's easy loving the two of you.” 

Your words make Wanda emotional and she sits up on the table, requesting that you stand up. She pulls you into a deep kiss as she wraps her legs around your middle and her arms around your shoulders. “Please don't leave us.” 

“Never,” you promise, because you have no plans on ever doing so. 

“Nat and I have been wondering,” she starts a little nervously. Suddenly feeling very vulnerable. “Would you start sleeping in our bedroom, with us?”

You grin, feeling giddy as the relationship progresses, “Of course!” 

Wanda mirrors your expression. “I’m glad because,” she pulls your ear close to her lips, “I want to wake up with your tongue inside of me,” you get wet at the idea of how much more access the three of you will have to each other now. You never thought when you agreed to go home with her almost a year ago that this would be your life. But you are so grateful that it is.

[nonasuch]

a trope I enjoy: character A pretends to be a new hire at a workplace to evade pursuit/as part of a long con. by the time anyone catches up to them, A has become a Valued Team Member and fits seamlessly into their new role (dare I say, vocation?) and has to be persuaded to leave. this is funnier the less time it takes.

[kerie-prince]

the intern

Peter Parker x Reader (college au)

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

warnings: language

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

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

(gif source)

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sir. I’m so sorry–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Thank you so much for helping me out’

(…)

‘No problem, anything for a friend’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes?” Is he going to…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s here,” MJ informed you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

requests open!

[soulmate-game]

Useful Part 2

fluff with a little hurt and comfort. If you want answers as to the lack of angst, look through my recent posts for an explanation. 

—* — * — * —* —* 

“Wait, you have a WHAT?” were the first words that the rest of the Gotham-based vigilantes heard when they finally were able to track down where Damian had gone. Dick looked over at Bruce, who was noticeably tense. No surprise there, the man had just found out that he had a second biological child. One who was apparently a superhero already, without his intervention, and also apparently had a tragic background in the League of fucking Assassin Assholes. Not to mention that Damian’s track record with meeting siblings wasn’t great, even if this one wasn’t actually new to him. Nobody had any real fear of Damian relapsing on his no-kill rule, they knew he had matured far too much to be at risk of killing for something as immature as sibling rivalry anymore. 

But there was still fear. Because this new Wayne was an Unknown Factor, and as a rule the Bats hated Unknown Factors. And they had no idea what the relationship between the two had been before they had been separated, or what it would become now. 

“That wasn’t Damian’s voice,” Dick helpfully pointed out the obvious. Bruce only frowned, doing his best (and failing) to hide his anxiety about what they would find. Silently, the group inched forward to the edge of the abandoned building they were on top of so that they could look over at what was happening. What they saw was a girl, presumably the same one who had been in a ladybug onesie and had fearlessly begun to ask them to leave Paris— until she had laid proper eyes on Robin and fled, that was. That girl was sitting down next to an unmasked Damian, who had his arm around her shoulders and let her lean into his side. He even smirked cheerfully at her question before continuing to speak to her. 

“A dragon-bat. I knew you’d love hearing about him, I’ll introduce you when you come visit the Batcave. His name is Goliath,” Damian admitted smugly. Despite the familiar attitude and pride behind his words though, his spying family couldn’t help but notice that he kept periodically rubbing the girl’s (they really needed to find out her name) shoulder in reassurance. None of them missed the tear tracks on both of their faces, or how red the girl’s eyes were. Clearly they had missed something big. 

But nobody wanted to try to figure that out yet. This scene was too precious, too breathtaking for them to interrupt just yet. They had never seen Damian this vulnerable around someone outside of their little circle before, someone from the Time Before Bruce, no less. Most of the time, only Nightwing was able to see this side to Damian. And usually the roles were reversed, with Damian being the one consoled. They had never seen him in the position of the comforter before. The pillar of support. 

It really cemented just how far he had come. 

So they watched silently as the girl flinched, pulling away a bit and hunching in on herself. The laugh she let out was small and overflowing with self-degradation. 

“You make it sound as if the rest of your family actually wants me to visit,” she replied sourly. Damian gently cuffed her over the head, frowning. 

“Two things,” he held up two fingers from his free hand. “One: They will. They accepted me, and I was— well, you remember how I used to be. Once they actually meet you, and process the fact that there’s another Wayne now, they will bombard you with more welcoming than you will know what to do with. Two: It’s Our family, Marinette. Not mine, ours.”

Well, at least they had a name now. But it seems like they had bigger issues now, like Marinette’s clearly damaged sense of self. Jason and Tim traded knowing glances; it wasn’t hard for them to guess where, or how, she might have been damaged enough to think so lowly of herself. 

They watched as Marinette shook her head. 

“I don’t know. It’s one thing to try to… to get to know you again. We used to be close before… everything,” she haltingly argued, voice small and frail and uncertain. But she never once looked away from Damian’s eyes, trying to convey as best as she could what she was feeling. “But they’re different. They don’t have any reason to trust or like me, Dami. And I’m bad at, well everything, but especially,” she waved her hands frantically as if indicating the whole situation they were in. “I mean, listen to me! I can barely articulate right now, and I’m talking to someone I’ve known my whole life! I’m a mess. Nobody wants a mess.” 

It was Damian’s turn to snort, and he pulled her right back into his side. “Please. If anything, that’s exactly the type of child Father goes looking for. We’re all a mess. Especially Father, trust me.” 

“You’re just trying to make me feel better,” she accused suspiciously, but sank into his sideways embrace anyway. Damian chuckled. 

“No, I’m being honest. He’s terrible at emotions, not that I really have much room to talk. We all are pretty bad with them. But he’s the most obvious when it comes to that issue,” Damian smirked over at his sister conspiratorially. “For example. He still tries to tell people that he works alone, and pushes people away because he has this intense desire to protect, but doesn’t know how to say “I don’t want you to get hurt, stop worrying me,” so instead he says “Go away, I don’t need you,” only for us to see through that nonsense and remind him that the amount of people in his team is in the double digits already. He doesn’t want to admit he cares about us and is vulnerable—”

“Sounds familiar,” Marinette teased with a watery grin, startling a short laugh from her twin. He nudged her a little roughly (but not to roughly) and playfully glared at her. Marinette just giggled.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lied with a grin before waving his free hand in dismissal. “Anyway. Another example. He has no idea how to tell a stranger, “hey, I’m your father and I will not reject you. In fact, I’m completely willing to adopt you right this moment and whisk you away to Gotham and relative safety and hire an entire team of therapists to help you and buy you half the world if you asked for it,” so instead he and the rest of our emotionally constipated family just lurks on the edge of a building in broad daylight eavesdropping on us and expects us not to notice.” 

“Wait what,” Marinette’s gaze instantly whipped up towards the sky, taking only half a second to locate the aforementioned eavesdroppers. Everyone except Bruce at least had the courtesy to duck down and pretend not to be there when they noticed she had seen them, leaving Batman standing seemingly alone on the concrete roof. Marinette blinked once. Twice. Then turned to Damian. “I’m gonna blame the fact that I didn’t notice them on emotional turmoil, because there is no way I’ve gotten THAT rusty.” 

Damian smiled, but didn’t laugh. He knew that was a deflection to try and distract from Marinette’s quickly resurging self-consciousness. Her hands were already trembling again, and the fear from only minutes ago had resurfaced. The insecurity. He could practically see the words “I’m not good enough,” written in her irises. 

“You’ll be fine,” he whispered, standing up and pulling her with him. “If anyone has to worry here, it’s me.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Marinette whisper-hissed right back, eyes wide in disbelief and confusion. “You’re— You! Mister Perfect!” 

Damian rolled his eyes, and his self-deprecating smirk matched the laugh Marinette had given just a few minutes earlier. “For the League, maybe,” he shrugged. “Never the Wayne family. Which is why I know you’ll be fine. If they put up with everything I’ve done and still call me one of them, they’ll accept you with barely a second thought.” 

Marinette’s next argument was cut off by the sound of a dozen soft footfalls stirring up dirt not far ahead of them. The BatClan had landed from the rooftop. 

Marinette gulped. 

But if there was one thing— one thing she still remembered from her days as Marie Al-Ghul, it was how to fake pride and confidence. She straightened her shoulders automatically, lifted her chin, and pulled away from Damian’s supporting arm around her shoulder. Damian let her. 

A little bit of old resentment flared up in him as he saw Batman walk up close enough to comfortably talk with them. Resentment that he no longer held onto, but that had haunted him nearly every night of the first two years he spent with his dad. The realization that maybe his twin was the one that was meant to be a Wayne. Marie had the blue eyes, the compassion, the more specifically detective-oriented mind. The calm head. Sometimes. Marie was exactly who he imagined when he thought of a naturally born member of the BatClan. Stubborn, clever, morally just. She had risked immediate death just because she refused to fight him, for crying out loud. Because she didn’t want to hurt the boy who used to be her best friend. The only ally she had ever had, growing up. 

Meanwhile, he still had issues reigning in his anger sometimes. He had too much blood on his hands, he was more of a battlefield tactician than a long-term strategist. Still stubborn, but also completely unaware of the pain he brought others with his words or actions a lot of the time. He used to be such a rage fueled little demon, and thinking about how his sister fit the classic Wayne outline more thoroughly than he did had made him destroy more than a few practice dummies in frustration. 

But now, looking at Marinette trying so hard to appear strong and proud when he knew she was still so shattered inside, relief overpowered the old and dull resentment. This was what she needed, he could sense that easily. She, just like him all those years ago, needed Bruce and the others to start to heal her and reforge what the League had badly molded. 

“... Marinette, I suppose?” Damian nearly facepalmed at his father’s awkward attempt at a conversation starter. Marinette herself was clearly too keyed up and overthinking things to even register any amusement at the lame attempt, merely nodding with an overly serious expression on her face. 

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Monsieur Wayne. Or that’s my name nowadays, that is,” She stumbled a little in her response before clenching her fists and forcing herself to continue as calmly as she could muster up. “My birth name was Marie Al-Ghul.” 

Bruce’s eyebrows visibly furrowed underneath his cowl. “Was?” 

“I…” Marinette finally looked away, shame creeping back onto her face. “I was explicitly told that I was stripped of the Al-Ghul name and would be killed if I ever dared lay claim to it again. So I not-so-legally changed it. And I was later adopted.” 

Several sharp gasps or the hiss of breath through teeth bit through the quiet breeze. Nobody was necessarily surprised, Marinette could see it when she looked through her eyelashes and examined the winces and sympathy on the faces of the vigilantes before her. Batman’s shoulders were stiff, as if someone had paralyzed only his shoulder blades. 

“And the people who adopted you?” Batman pursued. Marinette couldn’t read his tone very well, but it sounded vaguely angry so she quickly raised her hands in a placating gesture and her eyes widened significantly. 

“They’ve been amazing! They don’t know anything about my past, or who raised me, but they are endlessly patient with me. I mean, honestly! Sabine caught me when I was trying to steal one of her gold bracelets in Hong Kong— and I know I’ve never been as good of a combatant as Dami, but I’ve always been better at sleight of hand and stealth so honestly that’s impressive— and she saw my dirty eight-year-old face and for some reason decided, ‘yeah I want this one as my daughter’ and roped Tom right into it and next thing I know they somehow tailed me to my hideout? I still don’t know how the hell they managed that, but Tom had a huge plate of steaming buns and I was so hungry and suddenly it’s two years later and I’m adopted and we’re on a plane to Paris—” Marinette threw up her hands. “I still don’t fully grasp what happened sometimes.” 

She belatedly seemed to realize that she had just gone on an entire breathless rant at the speed of sound, and slapped her hands over her mouth before lunging into a deep bow. “I apologize! I spoke horridly out of turn!” 

To her surprise though, she was met with a soft laugh instead of a scolding. She jerked in surprise, whipping her head up only to see Batman holding a hand over his chin to hide his large grin. It only took another second for the boys behind him to laugh a lot LESS softly. Nightwing strolled over casually and swung an arm around both her and Damian’s shoulders, playfully nudging her brother with his knee. 

“I think she fits right in, don’t you little D?” 

“Of course,” Damian scoffed, though his eyes were playful. “She is a Wayne by blood. She ‘fits in’ more than you strays.” 

“Dami!” Marinette whipped back to him and puffed out her cheeks. “That was uncalled for!” she barked. Damian held his hands up in surrender. 

“Relax,” he said as soothingly as he could manage. “They know I’m joking,” he dropped his hands and a knowing smirk took over his face. “And besides, now you’re relaxed so my plan worked,” Marinette could only blink at that. She… did feel more relaxed, actually. “Also. I told you you’d be accepted easily. They already consider you one of us.” 

“Wha— there’s no way—” she frantically looked at each of the older men around her, but each of them just shot her a smile or grin and a short nod. Her shoulders and jaw both fell, and it broke a little of everyone’s heart. 

Marinette looked so utterly shocked, bewildered to be accepted as if it was still something profoundly foreign to her. And there was that disbelief in her eyes, that distrust that screamed that she expected some sort of lie here. That told that she thought this would all crumble away at any second. If anyone had any reservations about bringing her into their inner circles, it vanished right that moment. She needed support, or she’d crumble away and they all knew it. 

“How about we start by talking about the situation with Hawkmoth?” Red Robin spoke up, walking forward to stand beside Batman. “I assume that’s a little more in your element?” 

Damian silently vowed to thank Tim later for that. In a silent, completely anonymous way of course. Couldn’t have Tim thinking they were friends or something now, could he? Marinette instantly straightened up and nodded, her confidence returning with a little more sincerity this time. 

“Yeah. Yeah, let me transform again. It’ll be easier to explain.” 

—*—*—*—*—*

It was three weeks later, on Marinette’s third now-weekly visit to the Batcave, when the question finally came up. Jason had asked to spar with Marinette for the first time, having seen her in action as Ladybug and wanting to test the girl when she didn’t have superpowers to rely on. Damian hadn’t been down in the cave to warn him, and the result was Jason’s gut sinking as Marinette scrambled as far away from him as she could, eyes wide and chest heaving in the beginnings of a panic attack. 

“Shit,” Jason muttered before he quickly knelt down and did his best to talk her down, to calm her until her breathing slowed and her pupils were back to normal. It wasn’t long afterwards that Marinette started hugging herself, refusing to look at him. But he wasn’t going to just back down, he wanted to solve this issue. If even the mere suggestion of a spar was enough to set her off, he needed to figure out why and fix it. 

So he carefully lowered himself so he was sitting only a foot away from her, resting his arms across his knees casually. 

“Sorry,” he apologized. “Didn’t think it would be a sore subject. That’s on me.” 

Marinette just shrugged, but didn’t answer him. She just buried her face in her arms and took a shaky breath. 

Jason let the silence linger for a while before trying again. “Does this have to do with certain Asshole Assassins?” 

That startled a slightly hysterical bark of laughter from her, and she had to wipe away a few tears when she raised her head and finally turned it in his direction slightly. Not enough for her to be looking at him,  but just a subtle turn to show that she was listening and speaking to him. “Yeah.” 

“You know, you never told us why you got disowned,” Jason tried to make his words as casual as possible, but wasn’t surprised when Marinette still stiffened and took a sharp breath. He didn’t push. The stage was set, and he’d wait until either she took the opportunity to open up or told him to leave well enough alone. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips, and her foot tapped on the ground a bit. Clear signs of her anxiety around the subject, and Jason’s hopes vanished a little. He would probably have to wait longer for her to be ready to share.

But, to his pleasant surprise, he was wrong. She took another few minutes to gather her thoughts, but she did eventually open up to him. 

“I refused to fight Damian,” she admitted. “It was… We were seven. It wasn’t supposed to be a fight to the death, but it was a very important spar. We were using live weaponry, and we were told to fight until we couldn’t anymore. Whoever fell first would be relegated as a mere soldier, and have to fight for status like any other assassin in the League. The winner would officially be named as G— as Ra’s Heir. I didn’t want to fight, because I knew Damian would win but I also knew that it wouldn’t be as easy as Ra’s probably expected if I gave it my all like he wanted. I knew both Damian and I would be heavily injured if I did as he asked, and it wouldn’t be worth it. If I misjudged anything, any single hit, I could have accidentally injured Damian permanently and ruined his worth in Ra’s eyes, and that wasn’t an option. I didn’t care that throwing the fight was as good as giving up my life, because at least I could be sure that Damian kept his. I could make sure that he was treated well, or as well as anyone could hope for in the League anyway. I could, with only a few words, make sure he became indispensable. Ra’s and Talia never liked me as much as Damian anyway, I figured… I figured it was nobody’s loss,” She swallowed heavily, clenching her eyes shut. “I was always just the spare. The extra. Damian was their crown prince, the one with actual value. Even to me. I saw him, and I saw everything I wanted to be. I… I tossed down my weapons and let him stab me, because I figured I owed it to him for being such a failure in comparison to him. That I owed it to him to do everything I could to make things easier for him, since I was just an unnecessary obstacle—” strong arms wrapped around her, and she turned to sob into Jason’s chest as he just silently held her. 

“Idiot,” Damian whispered, making Marinette jump. Her twin sat only a few feet away, though only Jason would have known when exactly he had gotten there with them. He shook his head at her. “I never would have gotten as far as I did without you,” he whispered, looking up at the cave ceiling. “You were the only real rival I had. When you left, everything was either too easy or nearly impossible, nothing was the same as trying my best against someone who was just as good as me. And when I got here and met the others, I didn’t think any of them were worthy of taking your position, you know,” he scoffed a bit as he got lost in his memories. “That’s why I hated Tim for so long, I think. He reminded me of you so much that I wanted nothing more than to punch him for daring to replace you—”

“Heh, the Replacement twice over, huh?” Jason joked. Damian chuckled with a small eye roll. 

“Plus, he just has a really punchable face,” Damian added, trying to distract from the emotion behind everything he had just admitted. “Part of me thought you were dead. The other part refused to believe that. And seeing Tim and how some of his mannerisms were the same as yours,” Damian shrugged a little. “It stung. Especially that second year, when I started to regret that you never had the chance to come here and join them with me. Meet them with me.” 

Marinette sniffled. “... Who are you and what have you done with Dami? He’s never this sappy.” 

Damian flicked a pebble at her head with a good natured glare, successfully diffusing the serious air a little. Marinette wouldn’t ever be normal, and it would take a while before she was no longer fragile, but she could get there. Especially now that her bridges with her brother had been mended, and and a whole new family had cropped up to help support her. 

She was glad Damian had convinced her to try, again.  

[cacoetheswriting]

chasing a feeling - spencer reid

Warnings: angsty, a lot of cursing, smut (nothing too explicit; just a pretty heated make-out session) Word Count: 4.3k Summary: You and the young doctor used to date. Now, years later, you were back in Spencer’s life - much to his dismay. A/N: it kinda takes a bit to get into so i’m thinking maybe of making a part two cause there was soo much more i wanted to write?? // PART TWO IS UP NOW, link at the bottom

- 

“There has to be some mistake.” Spencer exclaimed, an irritated expression now outlined his facial features. “It’s not a mistake.” Emily stated calmly as she sat back down in her chair, eyeing the doctor in front of her with caution almost as if she was waiting for him to blow. But he didn't say anything. 

Instead, he was looking down at this hands. Rather at the brown folder she handed him just minutes ago. A folder containing information about the BAU’s new team member. Your information.

He reread your name over and over again. Praying this wasn't actually happening. Hoping this was a dream, a hallucination. 

“Spencer, the decision has been made. She starts today.” His eyes darted up instantly to meet Emily’s. His jaw locked. Yes, he was angry. Of course he was angry; as she suspected he would be once the news broke. And in his own mind, he had every right to be. 

“I hope you don’t think that because we know each other I’ll be the one showing her around.” He spat flinging the folder onto the desk in front of him. It landed with a soft thud. Emily sighed slightly taken aback by his attitude. She’s never seen him act this way. This wasn’t the Spencer Reid she’s worked with all these years. 

“I’ve already asked JJ to take Y/N under her wing.” Spencer flinched at the sound of your name. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. No. He shook the thought away. To him, at this moment in time, you were anything but. Evil incarnate. Better. 

There was a brief moment of silence. 

“Spencer, if you want to talk-” “I’m fine.” He interrupted and hurried out of the room. Emily watched him cross the bullpen and disappear behind the glass door. She let out a deep breath while glancing at the clock on her wall. You should be arriving any minute now. 

The elevator door opened with a quiet ‘ding’. Taking a deep breath you stepped out where Emily was waiting with a smile on her face. She immediately reached out and shook your hand. “Hi again Y/N, welcome to the BAU.” You squeezed her hand gently - hoping she wouldn't sense your nervousness. “It’s definitely good to be here. Thank you for this opportunity.” 

Emily let your hand fall. Still smiling she said; “No need to thank me. Your professional reputation precedes you, I would be a fool not to hire you.” "Still, it’s an honour.” 

You followed her through the bullpen. She showed you your desk, pointed to where her office is: “I’ll have JJ give you a more detailed tour later on but right now we have a case.”. You nodded in understanding. “Yes, I packed a go-back when you rang me this morning. It’s in my car.” “Perfect.” 

Emily led you to a conference room where you were greeted by the rest of the team. There wasn’t time for deep introductions, just quick shakes off the hand in between a ‘nice to meet you’ or ‘good to have you on the team’.  Although one person was missing from the welcome wagon. And you weren't the only one to notice. 

“Where’s Reid?” Emily asked glancing around the table. She motioned for you to sit down in one of the empty chairs, which you did. “Spence said he’ll meet us on the jet.” It was the petite blonde who spoke, JJ. “Apparently he had something he needed to do before we left.” Emily nodded. She glanced at you with an apologetic look before turning her attention to the screen at the top of the room.

“Let’s get started.” 

As the team discussed details of the case, you stayed silent. You should be paying attention. Your first case with the BAU, your first day. Concentrate. Yet instead your gaze still wondered to the empty seat. 

You shouldn't be surprised that he didn't want to be here. A part of you was relieved, however, another part of you was quite hurt. You thought maybe after all these years he wouldn't have cared anymore. Clearly you were wrong. He’s not worth it. And he wasn't. So you shook the weird feeling away and turned your attention to the screen. 

Later on the jet, you didn't want to cause a scene once the young doctor finally showed himself therefore you settled into a seat as far away from the rest of the group as possible. You looked out the window, onto the grey tarmac and waited. What you were waiting for exactly you had no idea. If he didn't want to see you earlier, he definitely wouldn't want to see you now. Except now he had no choice.

“Hey, are you okay?” Your thoughts were interrupted and you looked up to find Luke smiling down at you. “First day jitters.” You lied smoothly. He grinned. “Definitely know how that feels. You’re doing great so far.” You smiled as he plopped herself down on the empty armchair in-front of you. 

There was a brief moment of silence in which you looked back outside. “So a little birdie told me you knew Reid before his time at the BAU. What was he like?” Luke inquired, making conversation. Your palms began to sweat. How would you even begin to tell him what Spencer was like? Did you even remember correctly? Or was the image you had imbedded in your brain a figment of your imagination; what you wanted to remember.

��Uhm. He was shy.” You smiled to yourself at the thought of the young doctor always tugging nervously at the hem of his shirt. “Well he’s definitely far from that now.” Luke chuckled and added: “Yeah he’s eh, he’s been through a lot in the last year alone. This job squeezes the shyness right out of you.” 

And like a ghost from your past he appeared. Almost as if he heard you talking about him. Spencer Reid. He looked different than you remembered. More grown up, older, tired. Handsome. You sat up straight in your seat; your eyes glued to the boy you were in love with all those years ago. The brown haired doctor stood at the top of the plane, a stern look on his face. He scanned the plane looking for a place to sit. That’s when his eyes landed on you. 

The air caught in your throat as your eyes locked. Should you wave? No. Smile? Definitely not. Your mind raced a million miles per second wondering what the appropriate thing to do would be while Spencer simply turned away; his attention no longer on you. 

“Do you want to go say hello?” Luke asked following your gaze. “Maybe later.” You replied, focused Spencer. From the corner of your eye you could see him nod. He wanted to say something else but he held himself back. “If you don’t mind I’m gonna catch up on some sleep.” He made himself comfortable and without waiting for you to respond dozed off.  

Spencer sensed you still looking at him. Why were you looking at him? He wanted nothing more than to scream, tell you to stop, but he was a professional. Spencer Reid was a professional and he wasn't going to let you ruin- ruin- ruin what exactly? He shook the thought away. You were bound to ruin something. 

He knew deep down he was being irrational. It has been years since the two of you last saw each other. A lot has happened since then, a lot has changed. Spencer wondered if you changed. He found himself secretly hoping you didn't; you were perfect. No, no. He gritted his teeth causing his jaw to clench. 

He glanced in the direction of your seat - why, he did not know. Curiosity maybe. Or did he just want to look at you again. But your seat was empty. 

Instead you were stood by the coffee machine, trying to figure out how the pesky thing worked. He couldn't help but snicker under his breath amused. If he was to state the obvious physically you hadn't aged a day. Your hair was different, longer and a slightly lighter colour. He wondered if it still smelled the same. Coconut. Damn it. How could you still have such an effect on him? 

In that moment he decided to bite the bullet. Better to get it over with and this was his chance. Suddenly feeling nervous Spencer took a step forward and began to approach you. 

“Hi there.” The words came out croaky. No response. You didn't even look up from the machine. Spencer cleared his throat. “You need to turn it off and back on. It’s pretty old so often it needs an additional nudge before it starts working.” 

He pressed the button restarting the coffeemaker. Spencer relaxed beside you; he was so close you could smell his cologne. It was intoxicating to say the least. The blood in your veins was pumping faster than it has been all day. 

And as if his sudden closeness wasn't bad enough, he reached over to grab the mug you were gripping tightly in your hands. His fingers brushed against yours in the process sending an immense tingle down your spine. He froze for a moment and you couldn't help but wonder if he felt it too. 

Eventually, you let out a breath you didn't even realise you were holding. “I thought maybe you would pretend I don't exist.” Spencer huffed at your comment rolling his eyes. The machine began to purr and a black liquid slowly poured into your cup. “I can't ignore you forever. We work together now.”

That last sentence came out harsh. You noticed immediately and your gaze darted up to meet his. The look in his eyes was one you haven't seen before. Dark, hateful even. “If you have something to say just say it. If not, leave me alone.” You hissed as you stared up at him. The coffee machine beeped. 

You began to reach for your beverage but Spencer grabbed you by the arm, intercepting, and pulled you in closer to him. His grip strong. A gasp escaped your lips at the sudden movement. 

“Let me go.” You hissed as you stared back up at him. His clutch on your arm tightened - it was starting to become uncomfortable but you weren't going to let him know that. You only hoped the rest of the team couldn't sense the rising tension and weren't paying attention to this cumbersome reunion. 

“Why are you here? Why are you back Y/N?” Spencer finally asked in an ominous tone. “I’m here to work.” You replied confidently. He scoffed pressing your arm harder into his chest. You could feel his anger spike. His body heat radiating against you due to the proximity of your stance. 

“What, Los Angeles wasn't big enough for your ego?” He jeered. “Gee Spencer, I didn't think you were keeping tabs on me. Careful or I might start to think you still care.” You sneered in a mocking tone. It was the wrong thing to say, you knew that. You knew it would only get him angrier. And he did. 

His blood boiled like lava. You could see the hatred smouldering across his facial features, eyes narrowed. He wanted to explode. If it wasn't for where the two of you currently stood he would allowed for the darkness to swallow him whole. You sensed it. He was aware you sensed it. Even after all this time no-one knew him better than you. Perhaps that’s why he was so bitter. 

“Quite frankly Y/N, I don't give a fuck about you.” He spat letting your arm fall. 

The words stung. Your face fell and for a split second his demeanour changed. A glimmer of sorrow in his eyes. His lips parted almost as if to say something - apologise maybe. But the moment passed quickly and within seconds he was cold again. “Enjoy your coffee.” He muttered before turning on his heel and walking away. 

A lone tear dripped slowly down your cheek. You brushed it away quickly before anyone noticed and grabbed your drink, sulking back in your seat. 

Remainder of the flight was uneventful. The team gathered together once again shortly before landing for a quick briefing. Together you went through any last minute developments in the case. This time you participated, not letting Spencer’s tense poise distract you. Once the meeting concluded Emily divided you into teams of two - thankfully she paired you with JJ meaning you got to avoid Spencer the rest of that afternoon.

You didn't see him again until much later that evening at the local station. He stood by the bulletin board, deep in thought working up the geographical profile. 

JJ asked if you wanted a coffee, you said yes. Spencer’s ears perked up at the sound of your voice but he didn't look away from the map. JJ turned to Spencer with the same question, he simply shook his head and she disappeared leaving you with the young doctor.

Neither of you said a word. He focused on his own work as you reached for the box of the first victims journals you gathered with JJ. Picking up the first one you began to read through it - pacing. Spencer watched you now. Just like he used to all those years ago. He always found it odd that you liked reading while walking around. A small smile circled his lips at the familiarity of it all, but as soon as you glanced up at him the smile faded. 

Soon enough JJ returned with the coffees. You thanked her as she sat down, grabbing a journal from the box. Her presence eased the rising tension you could slowly feel forming. 

“Does ‘blind pig’ mean something other than the animal?” JJ asked taking a sip of her hot beverage. “Yes-” You and Spencer replied simultaneously. You locked eyes for an awkward moment. Spencer cleared his throat, averting his ogling, as you turned to JJ. “A blind pig can also stand for a place where alcoholic drinks are served illegally.” 

“The first victim references that phrase in almost every entry.” JJ said, showing you one of the poorly scribbled annotations. “I’ll ask one of the officers if they know of any restaurants or bars that partake in such activities.” You said placing your coffee and the journal you were reading on the table. “Good luck. They weren't very forthcoming earlier according to Emily.” She smiled encouragingly before turning her attention back to the notebook in her hand. 

Spencer on the other hand found himself following you with his gaze. He watched as you approached one of the policemen. Your hips swaying elegantly from side to side. He watched how you flicked your hair over your shoulder almost in a flirtatious way, a warm full smile appearing on your face. He watched as you laughed at something the officer said, tilting your neck slightly backwards and placing your hand gently on his bicep.

An unfamiliar feeling stirred inside of him. Was it jealousy? No. Spencer Reid wasn't jealous because you were casually seducing some crook of a man. His fists clenched at his side, fingernails digging deep into the palms of his own hands. 

Oblivious to the brown haired doctor staring you down, you continued talking with the officer. “I wouldn't normally ask this, but honestly I’m perplexed and I was hoping you would be able to help me.” You fluttered your eyelashes feeling sick to your stomach that flirting was the only way to get some information. But it worked. Soon enough you were strutting back to where JJ and Spencer where now joined by the rest of your team - a printout of all the places serving alcohol illegally in one hand and the officers number jotted on a napkin in the other. 

“Nice going.” JJ grinned as you handed her the list. “That poor guy didn't stand a chance.” Rossi affirmed with a quiet laugh. Matt and Luke chuckled together soon joined by Emily. The only person that wasn't amused by your theatrics was Spencer. “Yes, whoring yourself out is really a display of skill.” 

The group immediately fell silent. “Reid.” Emily’s tone of voice was far from pleasant as she glared at the young doctor. 

“Spence-” JJ began but you cut her off. “You’d think with an IQ of 187 you would know by now how not to be a fucking prick doctor Reid.” You hissed and tossed the napkin, which was now curled into a tight ball, right at his head - missing only because he ducked. You excused yourself calmly and briskly rushed out of there. 

The cold breeze hit your skin the second you stepped outside. Your break down followed shortly after. Hiding behind one of the pillars to the side of the building you burst into loud sobs - once the floodgates opened they were hard to control. A sweep of tears escaped your eyes, trailing down your face like a waterfall. It was hard to breathe. Your fingers desperately fidgeted with the buttons of your shirt hastily undoing the top few. You placed your hand on your chest, heart thumping. 

Through your heavy cries you didn't hear the door swing open behind. “Y/N?” A familiar voice called out, the cause of your current waterworks.

It didn't take long for him to find you - hunched behind a pillar, one hand on your chest while the other held your head. Cautiously, he ambled towards you leaving only a step between his body and your own. He reached out and gently took your hand away from your face; it was slightly wet from all the tears you caught in it. You didn't look at him so he closed the space between you and placed a finger under your chin, tilting your head up. 

“Congratulations, I guess you got what you wanted.” You whimpered, the look in your eyes completely broken. Spencer furrowed his eyebrows slightly confused. “This isn't what I wanted.” He whispered. “Really? Could've fooled me.” You muttered in between your sobs, trying to free yourself from his strong grip. 

He didn’t say anything. He didn't know what to say. Tell you he regretted that sentence the second it escaped his lips? You wouldn't believe him. Apologise? Yes, he should probably apologise. But as he opened his mouth nothing came out. He looked at you with a sense of hopelessness, this was not what he wanted to happen. “You have to believe me Y/N. I didn't mean-” “Forget it Spencer, I don't want to hear it.” You cried attracting unwanted attention from passersby. 

“I knew this would be difficult, seeing you after all this time and having to work together-” You took a deep breath. “-but I thought we’d at least be mature about it!” Your sadness dissolved into anger. You mustered enough strength to free yourself from his embrace, slightly pushing him back. That was enough for Spencer to get angry too - it was unwarranted yes, but he couldn't help it. Fight fire with fire. 

“God Y/N, you are so entitled!” He hissed taking a step forward, once again closing the space between you. “You only look out for yourself!” He jabbed his finger into you; just under your collarbone. “You are the one that left!” Jab. “You are the one that chose to come back!” Jab. “You are the one that fucking ruins everything!” Jab. Jab. Jab. 

“And you are the one acting like a dick about it!” You groaned aggravated. He gritted his teeth - you stroke a nerve. A sense of satisfaction overcame you; so you continued. “The only one with a problem here is you!” It was your turn to poke him and you made sure to do it hard. He didn't like that. He grabbed your finger, pulling it away from himself. His hand then slid until your wrist was wrapped tightly in his hand. 

He had all the power. And he knew it too. 

The two of you continued yelling insults at each other. You called him “irrational”, “immature”, and “a complete asshole” - amongst other curses. He resorted to bringing up your troubled heated past whilst calling you “crazy” and “a bitch”. Tension rose with every spoken sentence - your faces mere inches away from each other. You could feel his hot breath against your skin as he jeered how much he hated you. The look in his eyes was infuriation, but there was something else. Arousal? Impossible. 

“Do you know why you hate me so much?” You provoked. “Because I don’t stroke your ego. Because all those years ago I decided to follow my own path rather than stay and entertain you like everyone else in your pathetic life!” His jaw clenched. “And I think you're feeling insecure now that I’m back and working with this team because I know things-” “Shut up.” He whispered but you ignored him. “-I know things that could ruin you.” “SHUT UP!”

The sound of his roar caused a couple of people to stop in their path and look towards the two of you. The door flung open and an officer stepped outside to check whether everything was okay, but Spencer was quick to dismiss him. 

Seconds passed in which Spencer composed himself. Taking a step back he let go of your wrist and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked around, in search of what to say next. You however celebrated this small victory. A smirk appeared on your face and you couldn't help but let out a satisfied laugh.

“If you don’t mind, I’m gonna head back inside.” You said coyly. He didn't protest. He didn't even look at you. The smirk on your face faded. The anger began to dissipate. “For what it’s worth if I knew things would be this hostile between us, I wouldn't have taken the job.” 

With that being said, you were about to walk around the pillar when he grabbed you again. Your back pressed to the cold brick and Spencer’s assailed against you. No escape. He leaned down, tilting his head slightly, and you felt your body give way to his unspoken suggestion.

His mouth slanted over yours - all options to deny him taken away. His hands flew to your face cupping it hastily as his fingers buried in your hair, tangling themselves in the thickness. Your arms slid around his waist, trailing upwards, and feeling the hard muscles of his back. Both your heads rotated back and forth to vary pressure. His mouth was possessive and it didn't take long for his tongue to breach your lips. 

All of the emotions that had been churning rose to the surface and exploded all at once - your heart felt like it was on a rampage. The kiss now deeper than ever. Your tongues dancing together, each trying to assert dominance. Spencer bit down on your bottom lip vigorously causing a velvety moan to escape your mouth. The smooth sound of pleasure only fuelled the doctor more as he pushed himself into you more and you felt his member twitch in his pants.  

After what seemed like forever, he pulled away. The pause was brief allowing you to only to catch a quick breath, and in the space of a heartbeat Spencer lowered his mouth back down to yours with immense passion and desire. Your legs felt like rubber as you leaned into him completely. He explored your mouth as his hands nonchalantly made their way from your face down to your collar. 

Now that he’s tasted your lips, after all this time apart, he found himself only wanting more. 

Spencer grazed you roughly with his nails before binding one hand steadily around your neck - giving it a soft squeeze. The other hand continued down your chest, his fingers making their way inside your half-opened blouse. Your whole body was on fire. As was his. 

Slowly, he broke the kiss. Both of you breathless. A hungry look spread across his facial features; now you definitely saw arousal in his eyes. He let his hands fall down by his sides, but his body weight was still pressed into you. He tried to organise his thoughts. Which was impossible to do with you standing right there - your eyes wide open, hair ruffled, mouth slightly parted swollen and red from the kiss. Fuckable. 

He moved away from you because he knew if he didn't his lips would once again find yours. He watched you collect yourself. Fix your blouse, wipe the corners of your mouth with your fingers, adjust your skirt, flatten your hair. None of that helped however; he still wanted to devour you. 

When you finally met his gaze there was a hint of regret in your eyes. All the dirty thoughts and scenarios he had piling in his brain disappeared momentarily because Spencer knew that look all too well - there was an invisible line you had drawn and the two of you crossed it. 

“Tell Emily she’ll have my resignation letter in the morning.” Your voice a bare whisper. 

He opened his mouth to say something, to tell you he was sorry for everything. Sorry for the arguments, the name calling, for ruining your first day, sorry for the kiss. He wanted to take your hand, and tell you that there was a way the two of you could work together after all. That you didn't need to do this. That he was glad you were back. 

But no words came out. His throat locked up. He stood frozen like a deer in headlights and simply followed you with his gaze as you hailed a taxi and disappeared into the night. 

-

| PART TWO | PART THREE |

masterlist

[bookishofalder]

Pretty Girl

Pairing - Flip Zimmerman X Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, swearing, smoking, crime, (eventual) smut, racism (no slurs), sexism, general views/language of the time. 

A/N: Well, here’s the prologue to the multi-chapter fic I’m working on! I hope you enjoy, feedback welcome and appreciated, especially if you notice any over-description of the reader! This is a female reader based fic.

Flip Zimmerman sauntered into the Colorado Springs police department early Monday morning, his black hair in need of a trim, a bit of a shadow darkening his unshaven face. He’d had the previous week off, after wrapping up the Klan investigation with Jimmy and Ron. The chief had insisted they each take some time, and Flip ended up taking the whole week, though he knew his partner opted to simply take a day, and Ron only a few more than that. 

But Flip had needed the break-the case had exhausted him. It had drained him mentally to pretend to be one of the Klan, to agree with their views and utter slurs as if they rolled naturally off of his tongue. No, he had felt each moment with them chip away a little at his soul. So he took the time off; went fishing, watched television, did some work on his home, and spent some time with his family, who rarely got to see him. He didn’t live far from his parents, but with the hours he took on, it had been hard to visit often. They understood, but Flip knew his mother wished he would settle down, start a family of his own. She hated that he came home to an empty house, with no warm meal ready and waiting. Flip didn’t mind it so much, he was too busy at work to notice the void.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

Flip wasn’t at his desk for more than twenty minutes before Jimmy came in, all smiles for Flip’s reappearance.

“Flip, welcome back kid.” Clapping his shoulder, Jimmy sank into his chair and fixed Flip with a knowing stare from across their desks. Flip frowned, wondering what had his friend in a chipper mood early on a Monday morning.

“Jimmy, the fuck are you staring at?” Flip grumbled though the threat in his voice was laced with affection for the man he’d called 'partner' for years now. 

More detectives and office workers began to filter in, coffees in hand, all greeting Flip with casual ease before they settled in and began their workdays. 

Jimmy shook his head, “Nothing, just glad to see your miserable face back, it’s been an interesting week.” The mischievous glint in his eyes said otherwise. 

Flip didn’t look up at Jimmy’s words, merely smirking in response. He noticed then a neat stack of files on the left-hand side of his desk. When he grabbed the first, curious, he saw it was a case file of his, only it had been organized, and some of the sections of the report had been filled out for him. He stared a moment, shocked, before glancing up at Jimmy-whole was, annoyingly, still watching Flip.

He held up the file, “You do this, Jimmy?” 

But he was shaking his head before Flip finished speaking, “Nah don’t like you enough.” He didn’t elaborate and Flip was too stubborn to press the issue. Whatever. 

Flip glanced at the other files and saw they were the same. Someone had taken his paperwork, organized it and fill in the sections that were mostly clerical information, before returning them to his desk for him to finalize and submit. He had come in early specifically to finish off these files, and now his two-hour backlog was reduced to maybe thirty minutes of work. Impressed, and grateful, he began to work through the stack with his notes. He wasn’t going to say it out loud, but the gesture-wherever it came from-was more than welcome. Paperwork was the least appealing part of this job.

At nine, the station was buzzing with activity normal for weekdays. Ron had greeted Flip warmly when he came in, advising him that Sergeant Trapp wanted to see them in his office in an hour, before moving to his desk and checking his messages. And while it felt like any other day in Colorado Springs, Flip, ever the detective, noticed the moment the atmosphere in the bullpen shifted. Every man in the room seemed far too damn chipper. 

He glanced up from proofreading his work to find many of his colleagues glancing toward the glass wall and doorway that led to the hallway, beyond which and out of sight, was the front lobby and administration desk. 

After a few moments, Flip turned his chair to face Ron, whose desk was behind his own, only to see his friend doing the same thing. He frowned, “The hell is everyone in a tizzy for, Rookie?”

Ron grinned, “Chief hired a new secretary for the front desk-“

“What, Donna finally got herself a helper?” Flip cut in, referring to the homely but overworked secretary that had been asking for a second in command for years, during which team the operation of the division had nearly doubled.

“Yep,” Ron nodded, “And Donna already looks like it’s made a world of difference for her, but wait until you meet, she’s incredible. Nicest lady I’ve ever met.” 

Flip rolled his eyes at this proclamation and spun back around, stacking his files together. He was glad to hear Donna had the help she needed now, it was a long time coming and would certainly make a difference for the entire station. Donna was like the mother hen, taking care of everything from coffee to endless paperwork, dealing with the public that came in, and everything else they could throw at her. She never complained, but always made the point of saying things would happen quicker if she were two people. He wondered what it would be like to have another Donna type woman in the office, but intended on giving it no further thought.

That is until he heard the distinct click of heels coming down the hallway, and glanced up, half interested, at the sound. 

He did a double-take when he saw her and felt himself freeze. Stunned into stillness, Flip immediately felt that Ron using the term ‘incredible’ to describe the new secretary was entirely understating this woman. Everyone’s heads in the room turned her way, and it wasn’t just anyone who could unknowingly conjure up that kind of reaction.

Dressed in a fashionably smart secretary dress, which was a shade of dark blue that perfectly accentuated her skin, the woman was breathtaking. Curvy, with long (Y/H/C) spilling down her back in soft waves, she wore kitten heels that gave her a small amount of extra height, yet she was still short. She walked with an air of peaceful grace, carrying a large basket in her arms. But it was her smile, dazzling and genuine, that captured his attention.

Flip had to shake his head slightly, dragging his eyes away from the beautiful creature dancing into the bullpen. He refocused on his files, hoping to look busy, all the while straining his ears to hear her speak.

“Happy Monday, boys.” She sang, and a chorus of good mornings and hello’s filled the air, “I hope you like banana bread because I’ve got two fresh loaves here, one plain and one with chocolate chips-Jimmy, I made that for you.” And Flip looked up in surprise in time to see her wink at Jimmy, who gave an appreciative laugh, then thanked her. 

She had set the basket down next to the water station, where there was a small foldout table set up. Sure enough, she pulled out two loaves of bread, already cut and laid out in smaller basket trays for them. She made quick work of setting out the loaves, plates and napkins before reaching into the basket, pulling something out she had wrapped in sandwich paper, and spinning around toward Flip.

He dropped his gaze before she noticed him, now making work of organizing his desk-why the hell was he suddenly so nervous? From behind him, Flip heard Ron give a small groan, “Tell me you didn’t.” But he sounded delighted.

“Ron, of course I did, don’t be so silly, it’s nothing.” This captured Flip’s attention entirely, and he gave up the pretence of tidying his desk to turn around and see what she had passed him. Inside the wrap was a slice of pineapple upside-down cake. Ron pinched a piece off with his fingers and tried it, giving an appreciative nod.

“That’s just like I remember, thank you.” He noticed Flip watching with a frown and grinned, “Oh, now, you two haven’t met yet, Flip’s just come back from vacation.” He clapped his hands together. 

Flip looked away from Ron and met the (y/e/c) eyes of the young woman standing a few feet away, who wasn’t much taller standing than Flip was seated. She reacted first, though Flip did notice her eyes widen slightly before she stepped forward, all smiles.

“Detective Zimmerman, it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m (Y/F/N).” She stuck her hand out. Flip automatically grasped it, noticing how entirely tiny her hand was in his own. 

He tried to smile, “It’s nice to meet you, miss. Please, call me Flip.” She smiled at his words and Flip suddenly felt like his brain might be needing a jump start, as it was the prettiest smile he’d ever had directed at him. He felt warm and craved a cigarette. Or a cold shower. 

“Well, Flip, only if you call me (y/n).” 

Ron had watched the entire exchange with a shit-eating grin on his face, “(Y/N) here is an amazing baker, in addition to her many other skills that Donna can’t stop raving about, so before you know it, Zimmerman, you’ll be sporting a few extra pounds.” 

(Y/N) giggled. Truly giggled, and Flip found himself surveying her, trying to decide how old she was. She carried herself with a confidence and ease that seemed mature, yet she did appear youthful in many ways. “It’s what I’m known for, leaving heavyset men behind me everywhere I go.” She held up her hands, as if in defence of herself. 

Flip snorted, “And you take special requests?” He asked, nodding at the cake on Rons' desk.

“Oh, well that was actually what I baked for Sunday supper for my sister and me,” She leaned against Ron’s desk, her hands neatly folded in front of her, “And when I told Ron here what I was planning, he asked for a slice because I make it like his aunt used to.” She shrugged, giving Ron a friendly smile.

“It tastes exactly like hers, (Y/N), you’re the best.” 

“You two seem awfully, uh, close.” Flip remarked, and while Ron seemed unfazed and unbothered by the comment, he noticed that (Y/N) seemed to flinch slightly at the words, her smile disappearing. 

Flip knew he was a gruff, grumpy son of a bitch, but he was also always like that, and no one ever seemed to care. Now though, the tone and accusation that she might have assumed from his observation seemed to hit a nerve, and her demeanour shifted, embarrassed.

“Oh, yes, well Ron’s been a gem, being pretty new here himself. He’s helped show me the ropes,” She murmured, “I should get back to it-nice to meet you, Detective.” And she hurried away, still taking time to greet those she passed, before disappearing down the hall.

“Man, Zimmerman, you have a way with the ladies.” Ron deadpanned, shaking his head at Flip, who was staring toward the hallway feeling both annoyed and guilty. He glared at Ron, who was shaking his head, a hand clapped dramatically to his face, “A real Romeo.”

“Fuck off, Rookie,” He growled. A thought jumped at him then, “Wait, is she the one who did all this-‘ He gestured at his files ‘While I was off?”

Ron rolled his eyes now, “Of course she did-she helps everyone stay on top of paperwork. When I told her you were off last week, she made a point of getting you all caught up.” Again, Flip stared down the hall, his mind working. 

He just wasn’t very good at socializing, or making friends. He was gruff and sarcastic and his sheer size usually kept others at a distance. He had a hard time knowing the right thing to say, especially to someone as pretty and kind as (Y/N). He hadn’t thought his words would come out the way they did, sounding accusatory, and he wished he could take them back. 

- 

Over an hour later, Flip was still replaying the interaction in his mind, over and over. When he, Ron and Jimmy re-emerged from Sarge’s office, new assignments in hand, he had come to a decision. He had never been one to simply leave something unaddressed, not if it bothered him. And while he was certainly terrible at socializing, he would never stand for himself to be ungentlemanly. First impressions were important, and he intended to correct this one.

While Ron and Jimmy continued toward the bullpen, Flip turned right and stomped down the hallway, entirely missing his friends exchange a knowing look behind his back. As he approached the front desk, his eyes peeled looking for her (y/h/c) hair, he was surprised to notice how tidy and welcoming it now looked. 

(Y/N) had made quick work of reorganizing and decorating, which was probably why Donna was nowhere to be found, no doubt in the files room making work of the backlog she’d been complaining about for years. Flip figured she must be in the best mood of her life. 

The reception was empty, however, and Flip wondered where (Y/N) must be. He continued to march forward, considering if he should look around for her, or wait at the desk, when a door on his left, which led to the bathrooms, opened. Before Flip could stop, she was suddenly hurrying out of the doorway and slammed directly into his side, gasping in surprise.

Flip had just managed to turn his body slightly toward her before they collided, allowing his arms to shoot out and large hands to grab her shoulders as she bounced off of him and fell backwards. Steadying her, he peered, “Damn it, darling, I’m sorry-are you alright?” 

She was wide-eyed, her head tilted back to meet his eyes. He released her, taking a polite half step back. “I’m fine, goodness, I should apologize, I ran out of there like a bat out of hell.” Her hands moved to her waist, where her dress tie sat, and began to redo the knot absentmindedly. 

Flip raised a brow, “Something scare ya?” When her face flushed at his words, his eyes drank in the sight, heart rate speeding somewhat. He watching her curiously.

“I, um,” She sighed, her eyes closing briefly as if attempting to find the strength to speak, “It’s silly, I was washing my hands and noticed a big spider and I really, really hate spiders-I live alone and I can never kill them easily, I always get the broom so I can stay far back, so I thought I’d run out here and find a broom-“ Abruptly, she stopped speaking when Flip began to laugh, and after a moment of uncertainty, a smile spread across her face-dazzling white teeth on display.

“I can kill it for ya’, no need to resort to desperate measures,” He joked, happy to see his words cause her to giggle slightly, “But do me a favour?” He added, his expression becoming serious. 

(Y/N) glanced up at him curiously, “What’s that, detective?”

Flip took a breath, “Accept my apology, for earlier,” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, “I’m a grumpy S-O-B and my words came out harsher than I intended, I only meant to tease. I’m sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair nervously as he spoke.

She seemed to consider his words for a moment, crossing her arms across her chest, a small smile on her pretty lips. Flip kept his eyes on her face, not wanting to be disrespectful by ogling her, but it was impossible not to notice the way her bust pressed out when her arms wrapped under them. He needed a cigarette. And probably a proper smack around the head. 

“Of course I accept, detective,” (Y/N) was smiling properly now, “Jimmy warned me you were a mean lumberjack-his word, not mine. I just-“ She paused, “Worried I’d given the wrong impression, is all. I’ve got a good work ethic and don’t want anyone thinking I’m silly or chatty over hardworking.” 

Flip was surprised at how serious her tone turned, her words heavy with concern. “You organized all my files for me, while I was off?” 

“Yes-why?” 

Flip laughed, “Darling, that knocked two hours of painful catch-up off my plate and we hadn’t even met before, I can already tell you’re impressive, so if anyone here ever tries to question that, you send them to me.” He huffed, glancing at the bathroom door, “I’ll go kill that monster in there for you.” 

She had flushed again at his words, something that sent a jolt of electricity through his core. Flip realized he was well and truly fucked for this woman, and he’d only known her an hour.

“Wait,” He paused at the door to the bathrooms, glancing back. She was giving him her best little grin now, “Thank you, Flip.” 

He merely nodded, before stepping through the doorway to kill the damned spider.

Although, he thought, maybe he should thank it instead.

Chapter 1

Did you enjoy this story? Please consider reblogging or commenting to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Likes are basically just a bookmark!

[angsty-omi]

pull the trigger.

CEO!Akaashi x Agent!Reader

synopsis: You were assigned to kill one of the richest businessmen in Japan, Akaashi Keiji. How? by getting close to him. By pretending to be an innocent, naive little girl. By pretending you actually enjoy his company. By pretending that you actually loved him. The plan was simple enough, and if you were successful, you’d be rich enough to retire for yourself and your future grandchildren. So, what happens when you couldn’t pull the trigger? Even worse, why didn’t he flinch?

“Agent Y/N, you’ve been assigned.” your boss notified.

It’s been so long since you had been assigned. After you accidentally blew up the evidence last mission, your boss hasn’t been to keen depending on you. This was music to your ears, so what did you do? Jumped gleefully and instinctively squeezed your boss. You realized what you were doing and how unprofessional it was, so you slowly latched off of her. Your boss just coughed awkwardly before she began, “This assignment is a big one, meaning there must be no flaws to this plan. One mistake and you’re done for, literally.” ending with a slit-throat gesture. You were confident in your skills, and aside from that one mission, everyone depended on you. No wonder why your boss came to you for this. You glad-fully shook her hand, in which expressed your disparity for a new high.

To start, you had to change your look a bit. See, you researched Akaashi Keiji, from his likes and dislikes to his convictions. Every conviction he got away with money. Dirty bastard. Every single job left you guilt-less because you knew these people were corrupt and somehow reasoned that your job was ethical. First, you started with a trim. Your split ends would’ve definitely caught the eyes of the girls from his front desk. Then, you used the budget money for this mission to buy luxury items. From Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Hermes, was this really for the mission or for yourself? No one really knows. Finally, and most importantly, you had to snatch a job as his personal assistant. The organization already falsified documents for you. After today, you go by ‘Akiyama Ami.’ As you walked out of your office, your coworkers couldn’t even recognize you. One even put a gun to your head, and having to state who you are.

You smirked, “Matsuda, I am deeply saddened if this is how you treat your advisor,” whispering in his ear. 

“Senior Y-Y/N?,” he stuttered, putting his gun away immediately. You grabbed his arm and forcefully pushing it to his back, “please make sure you never make that mistake again,” you stated. 

“Y/N, leave him alone already,” a voice joked.

You knew that voice. It was your long time partner, Atsumu. From when you both were rookies, you guys worked cases together quite often. Never more than that. 

“Atsumu, this is my first case without you... aren’t you going to miss me?” you pouted. 

“Don’t give me that look, idiot. Be safe out there okay? I can’t always save your ass like from that time you exploded our only evidence.” he shook his head in disappointment.

You punched his shoulder, and he ‘over-dramatically’ ached in pain. “I’ll be fine, Atsumu. Plus our person literally looks like a prissy privileged boy, doesn’t he?” you pulled up Akaashi’s Business Insider profile. For the next ten minutes, you guys were bullying the hell out of him. Until finally, you had to go. Your cab was already ready for you, so you hugged Atsumu goodbye. Platonically, you always thought you’d get married to him. He was handsome, strong, and witty. And he knew your job situation, so you never would have to feel judgement from him. 

From the cab ride, you got to fly in a private jet. There, was your boss, two intelligent analysis, and a linguist. This was your team, and who’d you tell your intel to. The whole flight consisted of breaking down the plan, even down to what time you have to walk in the elevator. The destination was in Tokyo, where Akaashi’s main headquarters lived. 

“I’ve made an appointment for your job interview,” One of them said.

“Here’s your resume,” The other said.

As you skimmed through, you spit your drink.

“I can speak more than five languages?!” your eyes widened.

“壊れた日本語で話せます” you quoted.

“What does that mean?” your boss asked looking at you surprisingly.

“It means I can only speak broken Japanese,” you nervously scratched your head.

“It wouldn’t matter, the job application is asking for english-speakers” the linguist stated.

As the plane started to screech, due to the wheels contact with concrete, you knew it was your time to shine. You practiced all your lines during the flight, so confidence soared through your body. On sight, there was a limo waiting for you. You waved goodbye to your team, and entered the lanky vehicle. 

The condominium the organization gave you was luxurious, their budget must’ve been high-grade. Broad birched doors, huge window panels that let in a lot of natural light, and a master bedroom. Your first move was to jump on the feather-light bed. Your feet sunk deep into the mattress every hop. Leaving you tired, you went straight to sleep. 

Today was your job interview. Even though everything was fake, you couldn’t help but feel nervous. If you didn’t go down the agency path, is this what you would’ve felt as a normal person? While the coffee was brewing, you decided to look at your grand closet, not knowing what to wear. There was already an outfit set out for you. With it, there was a note:

Good luck! ;) -Atsumu

As you read it, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. The outfit he picked wasn’t even that bad. It was an emerald green two-piece, with a pale blouse underneath. 

“Not so bad,” you thought, while looking at yourself in the mirror. 

There, stood the building where the infamous person lived worked. Heels tapping the black marble, you stood in front of the front desk. The girls that worked there looked roughly young, around their early 20s. As they stared at you up and down, you could feel their judgement. 

“Welcome to Fukurodani Headquarters, how may we help you?” One girl asked.

“Hi, I’m Akiyama Ami, I’m actually applying for the personal assistant job. Where could I meet my interviewer?” You warmly asked.

The girls bursted into laughter. What was so funny? Did you miss out on the joke?

“Excuse us, its just... that’s one way to call Akaashi Keiji,” 

“Akaashi Keiji... is the interviewer? That’s even more stressful than a random person. It does make sense though, as a personal assistant there should be a close relationship,” you sighed.

“Close relationship? Please, you’ll be lucky if you can even give him coffee. Get in line.” The front desk scoffed in agreement with each other. 

“That’s enough,” a voice commanded.

“Are you Akiyama Aki? I’m ready for you.” 

Your face went pale. As you slowly turned around, there he was. The man himself, Akaashi Keiji. As an agent, you’ve went through strenuous training, so from the outside you looked relaxed as ever, but on the inside the butterflies in your stomach started awakening. He was a very attractive man after all.

“You must be Mr. Akaashi, let’s begin!” you enthusiastically smiled, while following him into his office. 

“So Akiyama, tell me about yourself?” Akaashi read off a list.

“Well I was born in the states, but my parents are foreign. They enforced me to take a lot of language classes, hence why I know quite a lot.” You were dying inside. It was a half-true statement though, you were from the states and your parents are foreign.

“It says you speak French, Aimez-vous boire l'eau des toilettes?” He smirked. 

You had no idea what he just said. The silence was deafening, so you just laughed it off. You’ve been told your laugh is very contagious, so you used that to your benefit. Your laughter increased, his did too. 

After you both calmed down, he continued with his next question, “Out of all of the candidates, why should I hire you?”

“Well I guess my stats match up with everyone else, but what’s not on the textbook is my characteristics. I am dependable, calm, and honestly easy to work with. I will do my best to help you any way I can, and keep your stress levels at ease.” You smiled with confidence. 

“Any way huh?” Akaashi whispered to himself. You acted like you didn’t hear his whisper. As an agent it was also one of your many talents to keep an ear out for anything. 

“Akiyama, congratulations! you’ve gotten the job.” Akaashi put his hand out.

“R-r-really? That was only two questions” you tilted your head to the side. You could feel his glare as a response.

“Well, thank you anyways! My parents will be pleased.” you gushed as you shook his calloused hands. Parents? Please, more like your boss. You swore you could hear a ‘cha-ching’ sound effect in your head.

Over the next couple of months, you’ve been working under Akaashi. If he was staying up til’ 2 AM at the office, so were you. Continuously brewing coffee, while also printing papers, and keeping him company. 

However, one day the routine changed. Prior to this day, your boss had just kept you up for the next order, so you were extremely tired. During the 2 AM session, your eyes slowly started to drift off, feeling the wave of drowsiness pound into your head. Akaashi walked into your office and was going to ask you for copies, until he saw you sleeping head down on your desk. At first, he was going to viciously shake you awake, but seeing your dainty face in the moonlight he couldn’t bring himself to. This was the first time he saw you vulnerable. Typically, when he would ask if you were tired, you would just shake it off with a bright smile. However, he knew. He could tell that you were pushing for him. So, he draped over his blazer around you, in hopes to insulate some warmth and went back to his office. Minutes later, you jerked yourself awake. You felt a strange piece of clothing around you, so you pinched at it while analyzing. Does it look like a weapon? No. Does it have any toxins? No. Could this harm you in any way, shape, or form? It honestly just looked like a plain blazer you thought. As you checked the shoulder pocket, there was an ID. 

“Akaashi’s jacket huh?” you said to yourself, not even noticing the smile that crept up on your face. As soon as you caught yourself, you immediately slapped your face. Oh no. Quickly, you sent a picture of the ID, so that the agency can create a replica for future secret documents and shoved it back inside. 

Knocking at the entrance to his office, he looked up at you with bagged eyes. His sleepiness radiated off of him, so you did what you promised on the first day-- relieve his stress levels. You pulled down the shutters of his clear office so no one could look in. In addition, setting up the couch to where there was a pull up bed under it.

“Miss Akiyama, if you’re trying to seduce me you could’ve just said so,” He flirtatiously grinned. You rolled your eyes in response, and grabbed him to the bed.

“I like where this is going, Ami, I didn’t think you were so bold.”

“Just shut up and get some rest, I’ll appoint some things out so your projects aren’t due.”

As he opened his mouth, you anticipated that he was for sure going to deny. However, no words came out of his mouth, instead he grabbed your wrists and pulled you onto the bed with him. 

“I’ll accept, on the conditions that you, too get some rest.”

Too tired to argue, you complied. As you both fell asleep, with his arms wrapped around you.

a/n: i was planning on making this a one shot but i feel like this might be a multiple part-er(?)

[smokedstorybara]

I have so many bnha fanfic ideas, they’ve just been popping into my head every few days for weeks now

So I’m just gonna share them all on this one post instead of making a million new fandom posts out of nowhere (ok, it’s closer to, like, ten - but still!)

If any of y’all want me to actually write any of them, don’t hesitate to say so - or if you just want to ask questions and talk about the ideas I’d be totally down for that too

Also, if any of them inspire you to write or draw something, please send me a link when you’re done!

(under a readmore cause it’s long and also there’s spoilers)

Fae courts AU

Nedzu - Spring King

U.A. / The Spring Court - also known as the Court of Lost Children, all members of the Court were once human children or children of one of the other Courts and they view it as their duty to care for the lost, neglected, and abused children of the world (one of two child stealing Courts)

All Might - Summer King

All For One - Winter King

Objectively, the Summer and Winter Courts are not as different as they like to believe - a Summer fae is just as likely to trick or turn on you as a Winter fae, they just prefer to play at benevolence while Winter fae make no secret of their nature

Shie Hassaikai / The Autumn Court - used to be more like a lesser version of the Summer and Winter Courts, until Overhaul put the King to sleep and made his research into humanity the Court’s focus - they’re now the second child stealing Court

Eraserhead was once human but has made enough deals over the years - most notably with Nezu himself - that he’s practically fae now

Deku and Kachan are human children who were taken in by the Spring Court, though Deku only after catching the attention of All Might

Endeavor - High Fae in the Summer Court - wants to become Summer King but knows he’s not powerful enough to overthrow All Might, married a High Winter Fae in hopes that combining their powers would make one of their kids powerful enough

Dabi fakes his death and eventually becomes a High Fae in the Winter Court

Shouto seeks sanctuary in the Spring Court’s halls

(I don’t actually have a plot for it, but I’m enjoying figuring out the world and stuff)

Evil All Might AU

The underworld knows that young Yagi Toshinori is a con-artist, and a very good one

The kid’s quirkless, and from a bad neighborhood, so of course he gets involved in shady dealings to get by

But he never ever gets caught

See, he’s mastered the eager, innocent, “I know I’m quirkless, but it’s my dream to be a hero! To fight crime! To be someone people can look up to, put their faith in! To be a… a symbol!” act, he’s been running that con any time he’s found in the wrong place at the wrong time since he first started walking - no one with even a single good bone in their body ever questions it

He gets involved with AFO, who’s like “I could give you one of my lesser quirks in exchange for your loyalty, or you could do a long undercover mission for me and get one of the most powerful quirks in existence out of it”

His mission: pulling his signature con on Shimura Nana, being given One for All, becoming a hero, becoming the Number One Hero and Symbol of Peace and the singular pillar holding up hero society, maintaining that status for long enough that everyone grows a little complacent, finding a weak and manipulable child to pass One for All on to, setting them up to fail, and then retiring

(I’d either have this one be All Might-focused and end with the reveal, or have it be Izuku-focused and give it a happy ending where All Might totally chose the wrong kid, cause nothing about Izuku is weak)

Commission analyst Izuku au

Member of the commission overhears him muttering/catches a glance at his notebook while watching a hero fight, strikes up a conversation

The commission tracks him down, shows up at his home with a similar offer to the one they gave Hawks - but instead of a hero they want him to be an analyst for them

Like Hawks, they take away his name, only calling him something like Eagle Eye or something (I’d go with Hawkeye but Hawks already exists so it might be weird?)

(Basically this fic idea is just an excuse to have Izuku and Hawks as the ultimate team, and helping each other get out from under the commission’s thumb - maybe revolutionizing hero society along the way)

Canon rewrite w/ Monoma as main character, somehow

All I have for this one so far is just:

Monoma copies afo, uses copied afo to steal afo, AFO is now defeated

After getting better at controlling her quirk, Eri rewinds Kurogiri back into Shirakumo Oboro

But he’s the age he was when he died

So he joins the current class 2-A

As in Izuku’s class

Basically it’s just his old best friends having to teach him and him making friends with all Aizawa’s problem children

Time travel

(I have multiple cause I really like time travel)

Aizawa-centric time loop fic

Loop stretching from day before Oboro’s death to towards the end of the liberation war (diverging from canon in at least the first loop cause he fucking dies during the fight)

At first he thinks maybe he just, like, dreamt up those 14(?) years

But then things are happening the same way and so he starts changing things and he dies and wakes up the day before Oboro’s death again

He experiments a lot with the loops, figuring out that they’re definitely not time based - unless it’d loop back at the end of the liberation war even if he survives? Requires further testing

Details he changes throughout the loops (culminating in a loop in which he successfully changes all of them):

Oboro’s death

Shimura Tenko being taken in by All for One, All Might’s injury(?), Izuku accepting One for All, and more I haven’t fully decided on

Time travel fic where Pro Hero Deku accidentally time travels back to just before Aizawa’s first year as a student at ua and somehow gets hired as a teacher

Gonna be a two-parter

Part one: Izuku has to teach teen versions of his old high school teachers, channels their future selves a little

Part two: Aizawa, Yamada, and Kayama have to teach the teen version of their old favorite high school teacher, and end up channeling his future self - in different ways

(I’ve come across a couple different “Izuku gets accidentally sent back in time to when his teachers were students” fanfics and they keep making me think about how Aizawa & co would react to meeting him in canon timeline after meeting him in high school and then I took the natural step forward from there to “let’s parallel their nostalgia, make him their high school teacher so it can really hit hard”)

Izuku is related to rooftop trio aus

(I’ve come across a bunch of “Izuku is the biological son of at least one member of the rooftop trio” aus but only one acknowledges that in canon he’s only 15 years younger than them and that one has a very angsty explanation, so I wanted some that fit with canon and also aren’t too heavy - cause like, sure you could go with the complex extremely angsty trauma reason or you could go with the “these 13-16-year-olds(idk Inko’s canon age and as long as I never look it up I can pretend I’m not going against canon by making her only 2-ish years older than them) did what teenagers do and went to a party and made some relatively innocent mistakes and ended up with a pregnancy”)

Dadoro

Oboro and Inko have been neighbors and best friends their whole childhood, despite being a couple years separated in age

The fall before Oboro starts high school, Inko takes him along to a party with her high school friends

They get drunk and sleep together

Inko gets pregnant

They talk it through with each other and their families and agree to keep the baby (they’re both actually pretty excited to be parents) and raise it together platonically

Some months into first year (maybe second), Oboro tells his friends about his kid

Spends the rest of his life gushing about Izuku to all his friends (sorry for the word choice fjdhshshx)

Oboro dies and his friends make pact to help Inko take care of Izuku once they have steady income and stuff

But Inko’s family has moved and she’s married and they can’t find her

They keep searching, for roughly 14 years

And then Midoriya Izuku enrolls in UA’s hero course and his big green eyes and curly green hair match the pictures Oboro used to show them and his smile is identical to their old friend’s

And his mom’s name is Inko

But they’re not sure (His quirk doesn’t match Oboro’s nor his Inko’s after all)

Not until after the first term and the summer training disaster camp and Kamino, when All Might and Aizawa go house to house talking to parents about the dorms and All Might tries to insist on visiting the Midoriyas alone but Aizawa insists right back cause this is the closest he’s come to confirmation

and then he’s face to face with a woman he’s only ever seen in photographs

And then they talk about everything or something idk I haven’t got that far

Dadzawa and Dadmic (trans!aizawa)

A year and a half before he starts high school(I know I changed the timeline a whole year here but shush, how’s he supposed to get into U.A.’s hero course while pregnant?), Aizawa’s middle school and one or two others have a Joint Event, at which he meets a loud but cute blonde who keeps flirting with him

They hook up

He gets pregnant

His dad insists he get an abortion but he doesn’t want to and his mom supports his decision, they convince his dad to let him go through with the pregnancy on the condition that he gives the baby up for adoption immediately

He has twins, both boys (one with green eyes like the blonde’s(but darker) and the other with purple like Shouta’s mother’s)(that’s right, Shinsou is also their son in this, you’re welcome), and he gives them up for adoption to separate families

But with conditions

No one from his blood family is allowed to initiate contact with either boy without the kid’s knowing consent (he’s terrified of his father changing his mind, tracking them down, and hurting them)

With the one exception being that he’s allowed to send each one a birthday present and card every year

Which he does

Then he starts at UA and then gets into the hero course and there he is… the blonde… the father of Shouta’s children… who does not recognize him now that he’s started transitioning

This time Shouta’s the one who flirts - or tries to, the kid’s a little too oblivious

Of course they do eventually get together, and even end up married! (Haven’t decided if they get together during high school or after they start teaching there or what(probably the latter, for plot reasons))

The first time Midoriya Inko contacts Shouta is after Izuku is diagnosed quirkless - she knows the young man loves her son as much as she does and might be able to reassure him where she already failed

His next birthday, Izuku’s mystery card says he can be a hero even without a quirk; it makes Izuku’s year

Hitoshi’s parents also contact Shouta that year, the boy struggling to make and keep friends ever since his quirk came in; Shouta’s birthday card to him isn’t much different from Izuku’s, really

The Shinsous get in an accident and Hitoshi is placed in foster care and suddenly Shouta can’t send him his yearly gift and card anymore cause nobody will tell him where the boy is now because of the contact portion of the adoption contract

They also won’t tell Hitoshi that he was adopted and his birth father is out there looking for him, so Shouta’s pretty sure they’re trying to hide that he’s being mistreated wherever he is

Inko continues to contact Shouta now and then whenever she thinks Izuku will need extra encouragement come his birthday (she never tells Izuku about being adopted - even after he enters his teen years - cause after his diagnosis, everyone but her left him and she doesn’t want him to internalize the idea that his birth parents didn’t want him - Shouta’s not happy with the decision, but he understands)

Then one year he sends Izuku a Present Mic figurine and she writes him to share how excited the boy was and how Present Mic is one of his favorite heroes and he listens to his radio show all the time and Shouta simultaneously melts and has a minor breakdown at the realization that he hasn’t told his husband that they have sons, he can’t tell Hizashi that their son listens to his radio show regularly when Hizashi doesn’t know Izuku even exists

So of course, being the rational man he is, he finally tells Hizashi about Izuku and Hitoshi

Hizashi freaks, of course (in a good way(mostly))

And then, one of the worst days of Shouta’s life

He’s on patrol and sees a figure on a rooftop and rushes to get there - just in case it’s a jumper - and it’s his son, his Izuku

They talk(it doesn’t breach the adoption contract, he didn’t know it was Izuku when he approached and the kid spoke first) and Izuku tells him “everything” about his encounter with All Might, Shouta tells him to tell his parents - they’re there to support him - and also that All Might’s full of shit and a quirkless hero is totally possible with the right training and enough willpower

Then after they leave the rooftop his kid gets in trouble again, rushing in to save a classmate from the same sludge villain that attacked him earlier that day

Of course Shouta swoops in and pulls the kids out of danger before All Might arrives to “save the day”

This time Shouta insists on walking Izuku home to make sure he actually gets there safely

But then All Might shows up again wanting to talk to his kid privately and he wants to tell the man to fuck off but he’s not legally allowed, really, so when Izuku says it’s fine he reluctantly leaves

Inko asks to meet him just days later

She tells him that Izuku told her everything about what happened that day - including what Shouta told him - and she tells him that she’s realized she needs to properly support her son in pursuing his dream

She understands that Shouta wouldn’t feel comfortable training him one-on-one with the kid not knowing who they are to each other, and she’s still not ready to tell him yet, so she asks for a list, for him to help her get in touch with people who can train Izuku or ways for Izuku to train on his own, ways for her to help

He puts her in contact with seven pro heroes (Midnight, Gunhead, the Wild Wild Pussycats, and - somehow - Sir Nighteye) and a vigilante team (the Naruhata Crawler and his team), all of whom he talks into helping - and has to tell about his connection to this boy they’ll be teaching

(Each have something important to teach him: Midnight - using words and body language to throw off opponents, Gunhead - martial arts, Wild Wild Pussycats - stamina, teamwork and use of your environment when out in nature, Sir Nighteye - analysis and planning, the Naruhata Vigilantes - use of gadgets and weapons, use of your environment when in the city, having the heart of a hero, and - most importantly - that quirkless people can be fucking strong and skilled and terrifying and certainly aren’t weak or useless (they were trained by a quirkless vigilante after all, they’re bound to have a different perspective on the idea of a quirkless hero than anyone else, a perspective Izuku could really benefit from))

Ten months later, Izuku passes UA’s entrance exam and is placed in Shouta’s class (he’s pretty sure Nezu did that on purpose)

When the school year starts, he and Hizashi discover that Izuku isn’t the only one in one of their classes - Hitoshi is in Hizashi’s homeroom

They are, of course, fucking extatic

They just need to, y’know, figure out how to tell him that they’re his parents and maybe possibly would love custody of him if he wants

(Again I haven’t gotten any further than that yet)

(Also, if you can’t tell, in this au Izuku turns down All Might’s offer of One for All, cause Eraserhead said he could be a hero without a quirk and was honestly a lot kinder and more responsible (like, making sure the kid got home safely instead of leaving him on a roof) and stuff than All Might and honestly might be his new favorite hero)

[sunmoonandeddie]

rosemary’s corner

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 2,788

summary: There’s something up with Bucky.

warnings: Some h*ckin’ words.

a/n:  This is dedicated to @johnnynunzio.  I love you so, so much and I’m so proud of you.

There was something up with Bucky.

And Sam could call him paranoid all he wanted, but at the end of the day, Steve Rogers knew his best friend—goddamnit—and he knew something was going on.

Bucky had gotten into the habit of disappearing for hours on end—sometimes entire nights—without warning, only to reappear and act as though he had been in the Tower the whole time.  And even though he wasn’t big on hanging out with the rest of the team before, it had gotten even worse over the past few months.  Hell, when he was with the team, he spent the entire time staring at his phone.

Steve’s brows furrowed as he stepped out of the elevator.  He’d spent the past four hours down in the gym, desperately trying to figure out what the hell was going on with his best friend.

But if he couldn’t figure it out, maybe FRIDAY could.

“Hey, Fri?” He called out as he shut his bedroom door.

“Yes, Captain Rogers?”

The heat of the water turns his skin pink as he scrubs at his hair.  “Do you know where Bucky’s been going?”

“Yes, Captain Rogers.”

When the A.I. doesn’t continue, he frowns up at the ceiling as though she was up there.  “... Can you tell me where he is?”

The A.I. sounded almost sorry as she said, “I’m sorry, Captain Rogers, but Sergeant Barnes asked me to not tell anyone his whereabouts.”

“Even me?”

“Yes, even you.”

And okay, yeah, that kind of really fucking hurts.  It hurts that Bucky is keeping something from him because in their hundred years or so of being alive, they’d never kept secrets from each other.  Shit, Bucky had even told Steve when he first got his hands up a dame’s skirt way back in ‘34.

They told each other everything.

“Alright,” the blond said as he shut off the water.  “Guess it’s time for Plan C.”

Plan C, as it turns out, requires a little more time.  It means waiting until Bucky gets back to the Tower and then waiting for him to leave again.

But apparently that’s even harder than he thought it would be since trying to catch the former Winter Soldier leaving is like trying to catch a ghost.

It took him almost two weeks to finally catch him.  It was a little after nine, and the rest of the team had retreated to their respective bedrooms for the night.

Steve, however, spent almost half an hour by his door, ear pressed to the wood and listening for the tell tale sound of Bucky’s door opening from across the hall.

When he finally heard the creak at precisely 9:42 PM, he makes sure to wait a few minutes before following him out.  He took the stairs, bolting down each flight.  He had to wait several long minutes for the elevator to catch up, watching as Bucky zipped up his jacket before heading out into the cool autumn air.

Not for the first time, he cursed his best friend’s ability to sneak through the streets of New York almost undetected.  Plan A had been Bucky just telling his best friend where he was going as he should’ve done as his goddamn best friend, and if that had happened like Steve had hoped, he wouldn’t be traversing down tenth, after having to follow him through several subway rides.

He’s even more confused when he started to spot the NYU signs littering the area.

He stopped in his tracks as Bucky stepped into a familiar looking store, a string of lights glittering brightly in the window display despite the late hour.

He vaguely remembered walking past the shop with him a few weeks before, but when he’d told Bucky that they should stop in sometime, he’d immediately clammed up and shrugged, claiming that it was probably too hipstery for either of their tastes.

Which, to be fair, it was really close to the New York University campus.

Steve got a little closer, just enough to peek in through the window that had ‘Rosemary’s Corner’ emblazoned across it.

The store was the perfect picture of cozy, though it did have that hipster feel that both him and Bucky tried to avoid.  Shelves full of records lined the front end of the shop, lights hung up along the tops of each one.  He could just barely see what seemed to be a coffee station towards the back, a menu with titles such as ‘Pumpkin Spice Marshmallow Latte’ and ‘Blueberry Delight Cappuccino’ hung up on the wall behind it.  A vintage record player in the corner was crooning out the familiar voice of Billie Holiday, just barely audible outside the shop.

And there in the back, amidst the waist high shelves, was his best friend.  Steve’s eyes widened as he watched him grab a record from a cart next to him, handing it to a girl who seemed to be the only employee present.  There was a flush in his cheeks, a shy smile tugging at his lips, that the blond hadn’t seen since the forties.

The girl seemed to be just as enamoured as him as she placed the record amongst the stacks.  Her movements were slow, unhurried, as she took each record that Bucky offered her.  She seemed so content to just be in his presence.

Bucky’s mouth moved silently and he lit up like a Christmas tree as he watched the girl erupt into giggles.  Her teeth caught her lower lip as she moved to shelve yet another record, but she froze as the man’s flesh hand reached up to gently tug it, releasing it.  The two of them were stuck in place, too lost in each other to think about the task at hand.

And despite the fact that anyone could walk past at any moment and see them through the window, Steve felt like he was intruding on something… private.  The intimacy between the two so apparent that it sent a blush to his cheeks to have seen it.  Just before he turned to leave, he saw Bucky rub the back of his neck in embarrassment, the both of them attempting to pretend that they didn’t just have a moment.

He went back the next day, when he knew that Bucky would be stuck at the Tower for at least a few more hours.  He wanted to be able to talk to her in private, to maybe ask her intentions.

And yeah, it was really shady for him to go behind Bucky’s back, but he wasn’t about to just let some girl walk in and fuck with his emotions if she didn’t intend on staying.

So he made the trek up to tenth once again, though it went a lot faster now that he knew where he was going and he didn’t have to hide.

Rosemary’s Corner looked almost the exact same during daylight, though Steve wasn’t sure why he was expecting any different.  The only difference is that there’s a few more patrons than just Bucky during the day all spread out through the shop.

The girl’s sitting at the cash register towards the back, flipping through a book.  She looked up as the bells above the door chimed with his entrance, an easy smile gracing her features.  His eyes are drawn to her shirt, recognizing it as the flannel that Bucky had been wearing the night before over his t-shirt.  The sleeves were rolled in order to accommodate her—she wasn’t exactly the size of the super soldier—but she looked so cozy it was hard to imagine her ever wishing him harm.  “Hi!  Welcome to Rosemary’s!”

He tried to pretend as though he’s not there to interrogate her, perusing through the stacks in what he hopes is a casual and aimless manner.

“Hi.”

Steve jumped, whirling around to stare at the girl.  “Hey.”  The super soldier was more than a little surprised that she was able to sneak up at him—he had espionage training from Natasha fucking Romanoff.  But even so, she’d somehow managed to approach him without making the slightest noise.

“You’re James’s friend, Steve,” she said, holding out her hand for him to shake as she gave him her name.

He eyed her hand warily.  “How do you know me?”

Her eyebrows rose as she stared at him, reminding him a little too much of how a certain redhead would look at him when he was being particularly stupid.  “It takes more than a baseball hat to fool me, Captain.”

Swallowing, he crossed his arms over his chest, going into full Captain mode.  “Then I’m sure you know why I’m here.”

But she simply breezed past him, heading for a cart at the end of the aisle with a sign on it that read Don’t want it?  Leave it here!  Thanks!

He stood there in his spot for what seemed like ages, staring after her.  Did she really just disregard him?  He was Captain fucking America.  No one had disregarded him like that since he was in the USO shows.

“You know, I used to come here everyday when I was a student,” she said, pushing up the sleeves of the flannel to her elbows, before nudging the cart towards the first row of stacks.  “Back then, it was owned by Albert Cook.  He opened it for his wife back in ‘97 because his wife, Rosemary, missed records.  Everyone was using CDs at that point, and it just wasn’t the same.  They added the coffee shop in ‘02.”

Steve followed her like a puppy as she reshelved the records.  He wasn’t sure where she was going with all of this, but she’d made it clear that she wasn’t going to put up with him pushing her around.

“They hired me here my freshman year, but I was here even when I wasn’t working.  It’s my favorite place in the entire world, and Albert and Rosemary became my home away from home.  It’s not easy moving so far from home for college, but they helped me.  A lot.  Two years after I graduated, it became mine.”  She paused, staring at the Cher record in her hand.  Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears and Steve could feel the sorrow rolling off of her in waves.  “Albert passed and in his will…  I told Rosemary that I wasn’t going to take the shop from her, that she could have it, but she insisted I take it.  Apparently her and Albert had decided to put me in his will ages before he died…”  Her eyes crinkled up as she laughed, “I thought their kids were going to shit themselves.  They were so mad.”  She shrugged as she finally put the Cher record in its place.  “Rosemary didn’t really understand why they were so mad about me getting the shop when they never came in.  But she moved upstate with her kids and I moved into the apartment upstairs.  I still see her every week for lunch.”

“Excuse my interruption,” Steve said when he finally sensed a pause.  “But why are you telling me all of this?”

She finally turned to him then, looking so open and honest that it took him aback.  “You’re here to question me about James, and I get that.  He’s been through a lot.”

“He’s told you?” He asked, blue eyes wide.  “About all the… HYDRA stuff?”  At her nod, he narrowed his eyes at her.  “But he never tells anyone about—”

“Well, he tells me,” she snapped, her hands going to her hips.  “I know about all the things he’s done and I don’t care.  He’s the best man I’ve ever met.”  The girl closed her eyes as she paused, taking in a deep breath.  When she opened her eyes, the storm in her eyes had settled.  “I need you to know that I love James.  I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt him.  And while I can appreciate that he has a best friend like you—”

“You don’t like your loyalty being questioned,” Steve finished, much quieter.  He felt as though he’d been put in his place, which didn’t happen often.  “I…  I don’t either.  Not when it comes to Bucky.”

A sarcastic smile settled on her lips.  “We have that in common, Captain.”

The two of them went quiet as she went back to her task, occasionally having to go to the front to ring up a customer or make a cup of coffee.  At some point, Steve started helping her, handing her the records just as Bucky had been doing the night before.  Customers came and went, but as it got later, it got less and less populated.

“I changed the hours a few months after I got the shop,” she mused as she glanced over at the few college kids studying at one of the tables.  One of them had put on a Hozier album, the earthy songs sounding like they belonged on a record.  “It’s better for college students.  Gives them a place to study or just hang out late at night, and they can choose any album from the used record wall to play for free.”  Her nose scrunched as she smiled.  “And I’m not much of a morning person, so it gives me a reason to sleep in until noon.”

“Does he know you love him?” Steve asked suddenly, cheeks going a particular shade of pink.  “Bucky, I mean.”

“Yeah, I got that,” she said, nudging him.  But she was just as flushed as him.  “I hope so.  I haven’t exactly been subtle.  But I might have to make a move soon if he doesn’t.”

He cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets.  “You should.  Make a move, that is.”

“He can be rather shy, can’t he?”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Both of them looked up, startled, to see the man of the hour standing there in the doorway.  Neither of them had heard the bells above the door as he entered.

“James,” she breathed, a fond smile painting her lips as she saw him.  “You’re early tonight.”

His ocean eyes softened just a tad as they flickered over to her, but hardened juts as quickly when he turned his attention back to the other man.  “What are you doing here?”

“I followed you last night,” he said, apology clear in his eyes.

“Why?”

Steve flinched at the harshness of his tone, but knowing that he more than deserved it.  “I was worried, Buck.  You weren’t telling me where you were going, and you disappeared for so long and I was just…  I was worried.”

“You don’t have to take care of me,” Bucky said as he moved to stand in between his girl and his best friend.  “I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

“I know that.”

“Then why—”

“James,” she said, cutting him off, “He’s here because he cares.  We both do.”  The man searched her eyes, his metal hand gently resting on her elbow.  “I’m okay.  Captain America can’t scare me.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest, once again feeling like an intruder.  He’d never seen his best friend so taken with a girl, so... enraptured.  “Don’t worry.  Your girl put me in my place faster than I could blink.”

The brunet flushed, shaking his head.  “She’s not—”

“I think I should go,” he said, backing towards the door.  “I’ll leave you two alone.  But, Buck—”  He nodded towards the girl, who had slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow.  “Don’t be afraid to bring her around the Tower.  I’m sure everyone would love her.”

Bucky nodded once, his arm moving to wrap around the girl’s waist and bring her into his chest.  “I will.”

As Steve stepped out into the night air, he was shocked by how late it had gotten, by just how long he’d spent in the shop.  A breeze promising an early winter ruffled his hair and sent a chill through him.  As he wrapped his jacket tighter around him, he took one last look at the two through the window.

The girl was pressed up against him, eyes sparkling as she stared up at Bucky.  He could clearly read the words ‘I love you’ on her lips and the shock on his best friend’s face.  Without a second thought, she pressed her lips to his, her fingers tangling in his hair.  It took a few seconds for his brain to start working again, but when it did, his arms wrapped around her tightly, pulling her in for another kiss just as she started to pull away.

Steve headed for the subway, a smirk on his lips.  “You’re in good hands, jerk.”

[operationcavill]

Professionals 4 - August Walker

August Walker is hired by Parker Industries to protect the companies most important assets; Mr. Stephen Parker himself and his workaholic, do-it-all executive assistant. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 

“Wayne?” He knows that’s not all; he can see it on her face.

“He called her a few days ago to see where I was, but she didn’t know. Now, no one can get a hold of him.” 

August stands up and starts pacing, “You were right.” She scrunches her nose, “I’m fucking pissed.” 

She tries to stay positive, but the doubt is grave in her voice, “It’s ok.”

“No, Y/N, it isn’t.” He runs a hand through his hair, “Last night, someone tries to get onto the property and your ex-boyfriend, who happens to be a threat to you and the company your family owns, is missing!” He gets dressed in a hurry and leaves her bedroom without saying another word. She feels like a scolded child until he comes back, angrily stomping back in to kiss her forehead, “I’m sorry,” then quickly leaves again. 

It isn’t until around noon that Y/N sees August. She’s sitting in the study with her uncle, talking about Jack, “Did you tell Walker about Jack?” 

“I told him we were together,” she shakes her head.

“But did you tell him what he did?”

Y/N takes a deep breath, “No, I can’t imagine he’d take that news well.” 

“Gin, you need to tell him.”

“What’d he do?” Oh, no, this was not the setting she planned to tell him; she knows he’ll be angry. He sits across from them, elbows resting on his knees.

Parker nods at her, assuring her that he’s there for her, “Jack isn’t a good man.” August’s eyes narrow at her, urging her to continue, “I didn’t want to mention what I went through because honestly, I refused to believe it.”

He’s tilts his head to crack his neck, “What are you telling me?” 

Y/N fiddles with the hem on her shirt, and Parker speaks up, “He beat the shit out of her, Walker.” The harsh words cause Y/N to shift in her seat.

August stands in an instant, walking over to her and immediately going from investigator to soldier. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Y/N has tears in her eyes, and she reaches for his hand but pulls back as Parker continues, “She broke it off with him, and the prick didn’t take it well.” Y/N leaves and heads to the kitchen; she doesn’t want to hear it nor talk about it. “She agreed to meet him at her apartment to talk about things, but he had other plans. He just left there. She begged me not to tell the police or take her to the hospital. The only way I could get her to go to the doctor was by promising her I wouldn’t contact authorities.” 

August is fuming, his face turning red, and his hands are in tight fists, “You could have told me about this!” 

“Mr. Walker, it is not anyone’s place to talk about abuse if the victim isn’t ready to speak on it. You will not turn this around on Y/N or anyone else, you hear me? This is Jack Waynes doing.” 

August relaxes, realizing his temper is getting the best of him, “I needed to know this. I needed to know this to keep her safe.”

“You do, August. You’ve been incredible to us all, but you do need to understand that Y/N keeps a lot to herself, she’s always had trouble with it. She needs her family right now. I want you to meet with your team and increase measures. Wayne has money, more money than I do. And when men like him have money, they know no bounds.” 

“I should go check on her,” Parker perks his head up, “I need you to call Annie, tell her to pack a bag. I’ll send her a car; I think if Y/N needs someone right now, it’s her. Call Jacob and check on him and Joey.” 

It clicks with Y/N’s caring and nosy uncle that there be something else going on, “She’s more than the job to you, isn’t she?” August doesn’t respond; he straightens his posture, “If I were a younger man, I’d happily punch you in the jaw.” 

“I understand.”

“We’re going to talk, sit down.” August sits across from him, hands clasped together. Mr. Parker is not an argumentative or particularly angry man, but he would fight until nothing left in him when it comes to his niece and nephew. “You know Y/N is a strong woman, I’m sure that was part of the attraction. She is strong, but she is vulnerable, and I will not have any man wrong her or take advantage of her in any way, ever again.” August nods but doesn’t get a chance to speak, “Whatever it is that you think you feel for her or whatever you’re doing with her, end it.”

“I can’t.”

“Excuse me?” No one usually dares to tell Stephen Parker ‘No,’ and they certainly do not disregard what he says about his family.

August shakes his head, “I can’t do that.”

He huffs, “You can, and you will.”

“I love her.” His admission takes them both by surprise. He hadn’t intended to say it aloud; he hasn’t even said it to himself.

“What?” They both jump, and August stands, shocked to see Y/N standing there with a glass of water and a handful full of ginger candy.

“I—uh,” He has no idea how to react, and her expression is unreadable.

Before they can say anything, Parker speaks up, “I need a drink,” Y/N looks at him but still can’t muster up any words.

She stands there wholly frozen, “Did you just say you love me?”

“Yes,” August speaks shyly.

“No, you don’t.”

He’s taken aback, “Sorry?”

“Shut up,” Y/N snaps at him.

Parker addresses Walker, “Good Luck,” then leaves the study, allowing them to have a moment to themselves.

Auguste clears his throat, “Well, now you’re just being rude.”

“No, I mean, What?” She finally sets down her glass and candy on a table beside him.

“What do you mean ‘what’?” His arms slightly raise in frustration.

“We barely know each other.” While this is true to an extent, August is a studier. He learns until there is nothing left to learn.

“You’re forgetting that I know everything about you. That’s the job,” Y/N picks at the polish in her nails, “I don’t expect you to feel the same. I don’t,” he stops and tries to think of the right thing to say, “I’m not someone who, who just allows himself to do these things.”

“I’m not sure what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. You can tell me to fuck off if that’s what you want, but I’m still here to make everything as safe as I can, to make it safe for you. How I feel won’t get in the way.”

“I think, uh, I’m just going to go back to my room, ok?”

He nods, “ok.” 

Y/N sits at the window seat in her bedroom, trying to take in everything. She was overwhelmed and couldn’t ignore it, not this time. Jack was missing, and he knew how to get to her. He knew how to hurt her in more ways than just physical. She tries to focus on the rain tapping on the window, but nothing can drown out the sound of August’s voice. I love her. And in classic form, he knocks on her door. She opens it to find a somewhat disheveled looking August. His hair is in his eyes, his shirt is untucked, and he looks tired. 

He sighs and begins to ramble; “I went into the system at 6 when my mother died. I graduated high school early, and went into the marines. I can speak French, Spanish, and Japanese,” he gives a small shrug, “I hate sweet potatoes,” he walks into her room, settling on the foot of her bed, “I’m a music snob, and I don’t know why. I have a mustache because I’m too tired to shave it. I’ve ignored relationships because I don’t want distractions. My whole life has been about a job. I have been left and alone in every sense of the word, and it’s mostly my fault.” He finally looks up to see Y/N in tears again, “I’m sorry, bun. I’m sorry. You know that?” 

She welcomes his embrace when he goes to her. “I’m not crying because you love me,” He’s confused but can’t bring himself to let her go, “I’m crying because of everything else.” 

“I will fix this, I promise.” 

“Gin?” Their eyes go towards her door to find Jacob, who also looks like he’s seen better days. “Are you ok?”

She reluctantly pulls herself away to greet her brother. “I’ll be ok,” then it hits her, “wait, why are you here?”

“Steve called. He said it was best we come here until things settle down.” He nods toward August, her eyes landing back on the handsome yet pitiful looking man in her room. “Joey’s asking about you guys. I can tell him you’re asleep.”

She shakes her head, “No, no, I’d love to see him.” Y/N takes a deep breath and makes her way to the stairs as the two men follow her. 

Joey smiles and holds up a picture he drew. It’s no doubt a sweet portrait of her an august in stick figure form, “Daddy said you and Mr. August were sad, this is for you!” She wraps her nephew in the tightest hug and kisses his forehead, “Why you sad, Mr. August?” Joey looks at him with such concern. 

August Walker, a man who takes pride in not showing emotion, has tears in his eyes, “Sometimes things get a little sad is all.” Joey shuffles towards him and puts his arms up. He hesitantly picks the boy up and wonders what happens to us, when do we lose the sweetness that children have?

His small hand rests on August’s cheek,” Don’t be sad. I brought my trucks. You wanna play trucks?”

He pats his back, “I would love to.” Oh, how he would have loved to have been like Joey.

Y/N steps aside with her brother, trying not to melt at the sight of her sweet nephew, “Where’s the nanny?”

“She quit weeks ago. I told her I liked her but unfortunately, her girlfriend was not too happy about that.” 

“Oh, sorry, how’s Joey handling it? He loved her.” 

“Thanks to your video calls, you and Walker are all he seems to talk about these days.” 

“Really?” She asks in genuine curiosity. 

“Walker doesn’t come off as a kind person, but I guess you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.”

“That’s for sure,” Jacob gives her a questioning look,

“So, what’s going on there?”

Y/N tries to play dumb, “Huh?”

“That shit’s not gonna work with me. What’s up with you and the soldier?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He rolls his eyes, maybe a trait that’s genetic, “You’re doing the whole I-don’t-need-anyone thing.” Y/N scowls, “I’m not going to pretend to understand what you went through, but I know it was hard.”

“Fine, I’ll talk to him later.” 

He hits his shoulder with his own, “He must not be all that bad.”

He points toward August and Joey on the floor, where joey shows him all of his favorite trucks. “Daddy said you like my Y/N.”

“I do like your Y/N,” He trades him a yellow truck for a red one.

“You’re nicer than Jack.”

“Oh, I am?” August tries his hardest not to react.

“He never played trucks, and he made her cry.” His small finger points to Y/N. 

“Was Jack ever mean to you or your daddy?”

He shrugs his little shoulders, “No, but he pushed me down at Uncle Steve’s birthday party and told daddy I fell.”

August can barely muster up words, “What?”

“He said I was in the way.” Joey shrugs it off, not realizing that the incident wasn’t an accident.

“I’ll be right back.” August smiles at him before stomping toward the siblings. “Did you know that mother fucker knocked Joey down?”

In unison, they (almost) shout, “What?” 

“Joey just told me that Jack fucking Wayne pushed him down at a party Parker had.”

Jacob walks over to his son, “Joseph, did Mr. Wayne hurt you? Why didn’t you tell me he pushed you?” 

Joey’s bright eyes become glassy with tears, just as most children’s do when asked such tense questions, “I don’t know.”

“It’s ok; I just wish I knew.” Jacob hugs his son and pokes his nose.

Finally understanding that something is wrong, Joey wipes his eyes, “Is he scary?”

All of them have a brief moment of heartbreak for this child, he’s having to learn that there are scary people in the world. Y/N sits with Jacob and her sweet nephew, “Sometimes people can be scary, but you don’t need to be scared of him. You know why?”

Joey smiles, “Cause Mr. August is here.”  

She wasn’t going to answer with that, but he’s rights, “Yes, August is here.”

A familiar raspy voice comes from the hallway, “Where the hell are you guys?” 

Oh, Annie to the rescue, they could all used her right now, “And so is your Yaya, go get her!” Annie adored this house and the children within it. She quickly and gladly took the role of Joey’s Grandmother. She loved him as if he was her own.

Joey runs, tripping over his toys, “I’m ok!” and hops back up to meet Annie. “Hi, Yaya!” They all can’t help but grin at the precious resilience of a child.

“Hello, my little love. I see you’ve been having some fun in here.” She spots the small trucks and dozens of crayons strewn about, “Why don’t you draw me something, eh?”

He nods and runs back to his disaster area. “Now, you, come over here.” August looks toward Y/N and expects her to walk forward, “Huh-uh, handsome, I’m talking to you.” 

[Tagged: If you’d like to be tagged, just shoot me a message or ask!]

@igotkatiepowers  @xxxkatxo  @lunedelorient  @heartfelt-pen  @omgkatinka  @viking-raider  @summersong69  @hell1129-blog  @lilzebub  @mansaaay  @henryobsessed  @harrysthiccthighss  @cavillshmavill @wheretheriversrunintothesea​ 

[teophan]

In Defense of the Iron Bull (DA:I)

SPOILERS AHEAD below the cut for Bull’s companion questline, some major story elements from Dragon Age: Inquisition, and the Trespasser epilogue DLC.

(NOTE: I had originally typed this up as a Google Doc meant to be shared with people who have never played DA:I before or been exposed to the relevant concepts. I have trimmed most of the expository information, but most of what is here has been copy-pasted directly from the original document.)

The Iron Bull did not betray the Inquisition.

THE RUNDOWN: Who is Iron Bull?

Iron Bull (or The Iron Bull, technically, as he insists upon when you ask about his name) is a mercenary operating largely out of Orlais, one of the nations of Thedas, and captain of the mercenary company aptly named the Bull’s Chargers. Bull is a member of a race known as the Qunari, a people of impressive stature and who typically have equally impressive horns sprouting from their brow, usually arching back over their heads--though Bull’s horns, appropriately, jut out to the sides and point straight up.

He reveals upon your initial meeting that he is a member of the Ben-Hassrath (effectively the Qunari CIA/FBI/Homeland Security, acting as their spies, secret police, city watch, and anti-terrorism enforcers), which he openly tells you he only revealed because if he didn’t, the Inquisition’s spymaster would find out and tell you anyway. At this point, you have the option to recruit him as a Companion and hire the Chargers as agents of the Inquisition, or dismiss him entirely and never see him again. If you recruit him, you do so with full knowledge that he is operating as a double agent loyal to the Qun (the philosophical principles by which the Qunari live their lives) and the Qunari government. This is important to remember for later.

The Chargers are a ragtag bunch, the inner circle of whom are aware of Bull’s Ben-Hassrath ties. His second-in-command is Cremisius “Krem” Aclassi, an expatriate of the Tevinter Imperium, who prompts the meeting with Bull by talking to you at Haven following your meeting with Chantry officials in Val Royeaux. If recruited and Bull’s Approval is high enough once you move to Skyhold, he will introduce you to the rest of his central team--Grim, Skinner, Rocky, Dalish, and Stitches. Bull is fiercely protective of and loyal to his Chargers, almost as much as he is to the Qun, and they would follow him into the jaws of death itself without hesitation.

DEMANDS OF THE QUN: Bull’s Companion Quest

Fun thing about the Qunari: they’ve been waging war against Tevinter for the better part of a couple centuries, as they share a border and are both semi-constantly trying to expand into each other’s territory. So, of course, it’s in their best interest if the Tevinter supremacist cult known as the Venatori fall, and they’re willing to forge an alliance with the Inquisition to do it...much to Bull’s surprise and chagrin, as talk of any kind of alliance on the part of the Qunari is unprecedented. The Inquisitor is offered use of the Qunari’s naval force, which would expand the Inquisitor’s reach on both land and sea.

There’s a shipment of Red Lyrium (a dangerous crystal that induces madness in those exposed to it, is addictive and oftentimes lethal if ingested, and can turn people into crystal, and which Corypheus and his Venatori are using as a source of power) coming to the Storm Coast, which Bull’s contacts in the Ben-Hassrath are seeking your help with stopping. It’s a job for a small team: you and Bull in your party of four, and the main six-man team of the Bull’s Chargers. Each group is tasked with taking out one group of Venatori soldiers so that the Qunari Dreadnought can destroy the Lyrium shipment. You succeed, but the plot thickens: there’s reinforcements coming, and if nothing is done quickly, the Chargers will be wiped out in the effort to hold their position.

At this point, you’re given a choice: sacrifice the Chargers to cement the alliance with the Qunari and destroy the encroaching reinforcements, or sacrifice the Dreadnought to save the Chargers. In the latter case, Bull is declared Tal-Vashoth (an expatriate of the Qunari viewed as a traitor to his kin) and his Ben-Hassrath ties are severed. For the sake of this post, let’s assume the Inquisitor chooses to sacrifice the Chargers.

TRESPASSER: Bull’s “Betrayal”

Regardless of the choices you make throughout the story of Dragon Age: Inquisition, there’s a new threat on the horizon in the epilogue DLC, set two years after the main story. However, there’s a more immediate threat knocking on the Inquisition’s doors: Ben-Hassrath agents are attempting to invade Orlais using magical means. At some point during the epilogue, if the Chargers were sacrificed, Bull seemingly betrays the Inquisition, rejoining the Qunari and Ben-Hassrath to turn against you and your allies. To quote Douglas Adams, this has made a lot of people very angry and has been widely regarded as a bad move.

However, there’s a bit of a hitch in the argument in favor of Bull being a traitorous turncoat willing to sell the Inquisition to Satan for one corn chip in this scenario, and that is this:

Bull was never loyal to the Inquisition to begin with.

He tells you from your very first meeting that he’s an active agent of a foreign power; it’s the one thing he’s open about above all else, and the one thing he makes sure you’re aware of before you’re even given the option to recruit him as a Companion. Before you are even named Inquisitor, if you recruit him, you do so fully cognizant of the fact that you are welcoming an enemy spy into your ranks. He outright calls himself a spy; it’s not even subtext, it’s blatantly stated and in-your-face information. You’re not even the leader of the Inquisition when you’re first given the option to recruit him; if you recruit him while still based in Haven, you can’t even express interest in leading until having a conversation with him there, where he points out that “you’ve got no leader. No Inquisitor,” to which you are given the option to answer “maybe I should lead.” You’re not even the one in charge at this point, and yet you still let him in.

If, upon becoming Inquisitor, you give him no reason to sever his ties to the Qun, The Iron Bull remains a foreign agent. If anything, you, the Herald and Inquisitor, are the traitor in this scenario; you knowingly welcomed a foreign agent into the Inquisition, you chose to cement those foreign ties, you gave him the ultimate backdoor access: not only is he in, he’s at your side. Further, the Inquisitor can outright acknowledge and congratulate him on this cemented loyalty to the Qun and Ben-Hassrath following the Demands of the Qun quest, telling him, in effect, “it’s good that you’re not pretending to be two people anymore.”

The Iron Bull remained loyal as he ever was...it just wasn’t to you.

[fanficy-au]

Not Enough Time | Deidara x Obito

Title: Not Enough Time For: Tracy  Summary: Obito has tried to reject the idea of his soulmate for years, but as the day approaches closer he can’t deny the growing curiosity. Requested Word Count: 2000 Final Word Count: 2015 Rating: G Tags: Deidara x Obito, male x male pairing, soulmate AU, soulmate - timer AU View on A03 |  Commission Me | Tip A Writer 

Not Enough Time | Deidara x Obito 

The timer has been there for as long as Obito can remember. When he was a child, he sat down and carefully, if a bit simply, told why it was there. His grandmother had filled him with idealizations and stories of finding his soulmate. She tried to make it something for him to look forward to and to not be discouraged by long numbers. He listened for what seemed like hours to stories of how she met her soulmate, how his parents met. He still remembers each story very well.  It almost worked - it would have worked - until all of the other kids ignored him because they couldn’t read his timer; if it was not happening anytime soon, it did not matter.

As he got older, especially  in high school, they explained it in more detail - followed afterward about sexual education. He paid more attention to the former than the later, he will admit.

The timer on his wrist, they had explained, counts down to when he will meet his soulmate. Like him, it is something that everyone has. They still did not explain as well as he had hoped though. No explanations as to why it was there. No questions were asked other than the typical high schooler questions of what if my soulmate is ugly? Which was reassured with it’s your soulmate, you’ll be paired with someone you will love. All ‘reassurances’ felt so empty to him, rehearsed and expected answers that were expected of adults that never actually answered anything; he never got a chance, or the courage, to ask the questions on his mind.

No one else seemed to have the same hesitation that he did. He first noticed this when some of his friends in high school ended up meeting their soulmate; some of the lucky ones had even met their soulmate as children. Always happy. Always excited. Always I have been waiting for you, you are just as I imagined. You are everything I have ever dreamed of. You are even more beautiful than I hoped for.

There was always rumors and chatter about each other’s timers, who may end up who if their timers were even a little bit similar. Some rumors are more scandalous than others. Some of them, ones whose numbers were short and easy to predict, did not even bother trying to date in high school, waiting for their ‘ one true love’. Others liked to dabble, to get experience so they knew what to do when they finally met them; those ones usually had decently long numbers with hopes of meeting their soulmates in college. There never seemed to be that much of a market for kids who just wanted to date; it was seen as pointless if they were not your soulmate (now being in the city, he is sure that most of that was small town thinking). So any hopes he had of gaining the sort of experience had hoped to were shot down fast.

Growing up, none of it ever reassured him the way he thought it would. Seeing so many soulmates meet and suddenly, viola, they are together the next day. Surely, if it worked for everyone else it would work for him, wouldn’t it? Then again, he never was like anyone else in other categories. Never athletic enough. Never good-looking enough. Never enough.

Instead he just grew anxious. He never understood the hype. The numbers on his wrist felt too long and the longer he had to wait, the more he grew sure that even his soulmate would not want him. What if he was not  ‘everything his soulmate dreamed of?’ What if he was not ‘what they expected?’  What if he didn’t want to be suddenly with someone just because of his timer? What if he doesn’t like them? Or what if they don’t like him?

Or worse, Obito was sure that his soulmate had to be a man. What if they were expecting a girl or someone else?

Obito has learned, with time, that the best way to not be anxious about something was to simply not care about it.

Now, even at twenty-five years old, Obito still does not worry too much about his timer; or at least, he tries not to. He ignores it for the longest time, going as far as wearing sleeves or jewelry that covers the timer. He puts it into the back of his mind, trying his best to not even check how much time is left. If he pretends that it is not there, maybe it will not come true or maybe it will go away all together.

But at his age, the timer is quickly approaching its end. The last time he checked it, he nearly spilled his coffee realizing that it would happen so soon. Four days, five hours, six minutes, 45 seconds. It felt surreal that so much time had passed. That the number that seemed so far away, so out of reach as a small child, is finally approaching. He almost took off work for the rest of the week, just so he could stay home and lock himself away where he can’t possibly run into anyone. His boss, however, had very different plans that led him working so much overtime that he stressed about meeting his soulmate through work.

Of course, this was four days ago. Now, he has no idea how much time is left on his timer. A few hours maybe? Minutes? He bites at the inner cheek of his mouth. He taps his fingers against his desk. It takes all he can to not look at the timer obsessively all through the work day. He tries his best to focus instead, on all the work piling up in front of him.

But just as he is about to clock out for work, heart beating against his chest, he can no longer resist the temptation to look. His hands shake as he lifts up the edge of his sleeve, carefully moving his watch just enough for a small peek at the numbers.

15 minutes. 45 seconds.

He gags, glancing at the watch as if that may have a different time. He thinks wildly about what it is he is about to do and where to go. Will he meet them on the subway? No, he won’t make it there in time. Will he meet them at the coffee shop that he goes to on his way home? Maybe. Hopefully he won’t end up meeting them by accidently spilling something on them. Will it be someone just coming into the building as he is leaving?

Will his soulmate see him and leave? Get mad that it’s him? Will they be disappointed? Turn him away before he even has a chance?

Or will the timer hit zero and he will be walking down an empty street with no one in sight.

Just as his panic is reaching its peek, he hears his boss’ voice over the intercom calling him to the office. He quickly gathers himself together, fixes his tie, runs his fingers through his hair and hopes that there are no signs of his internal struggle.

The only good news, among all this chaos, in this situation is that he already knows his boss, which means the likelihood of meeting someone in his office is slim… right?

He tries his best to listen to his boss, he really does. Every word, however, goes in one ear and out the other. If he gets anything out of this, it is  that he never quite got the chance to clock out so at very least he is getting paid for the long tangent that his boss rambles on.

He normally isn’t so disconnected from work like this - and admittedly, if it was something positive, he would be much more interested -  but all he can think about is the timer on his wrist, ticking away while he sits in the office. He keeps an eye on the clock behind his boss, counting the minutes passing by, and the longer he waits, the more convinced he is that he was right that he never even had a soulmate to begin with.

Leave it to him to be the one whose timer goes off while his boss is rambling mad.

��-But,” his boss takes a deep breath - the first one in what feels like forever, “I have to say that your performance is exactly what this company needs which is why I’ll leave it to you to train our new associate. I trust that you’ll instill the same work ethic to him.”

“He will be completing his six week internship first,” his boss continues, “Then hopefully, we can add him as a permanent hire. With your training of him, we hope that can happen.”

Obito’s eyes widen, an immediate sense of panic rushing over him. He tries his best to cover it up as his boss stands to let someone into the room. He takes that moment to glance at the timer on his wrist. 10 seconds.

Whomever is walking through that door will be his soulmate - or should be, at least. He wonders if their timer will be going off any second now. He stands, double checks that his shirt is tucked in perfectly to make a good impression, and faces the door.

“Please welcome Mister Deidara onto the team.”

A man struts in, almost idly as if he is not nearly as concerned about the situation as Obito is. Blonde hair pulled back into a professional ponytail, sharp blue eyes glancing at his own wrist. Obito swallows thickly, not quite expecting him to get so lucky as to get someone so good looking. He can feel his face warming and hopes that no one else can hear his heart beating against his chest like a hard drum.

“Huh, what do you know,” Deidara says easily as he watches his timer hit zero before glancing up to meet Obito’s nervous gaze. It takes everything for Obito to stand still as Deidara gets closer to him, a flirtatious smile on his lips. Obito wonders if this is just a set up before Deidara does something like hit him or push him away. He braces himself for the worst, but it never quite comes.

Instead, Deidara  looks Obito over carefully, lingering on certain aspects. The smile never wavers. If not for their boss not far off, who has kindly given the pair a bit of space, Deidara may have done or said something more dramatic.

“Look at you…” Deidara states instead, “Well, you’re quite the piece of art, aren’t you?”

He leans in closely, his mouth just by Obitio’s ear as he whispers, “ An absolute, ultimate piece of art.”

Obito’s blush reaches his ears and he tries not to scream when he feels Deidara’s breath against his neck. He almost jumps out of his skin, forgetting how to breathe for a moment as he tries to get his heart under control.

“Obito,” Obito shoves his hand out to greet him, nearly hitting the other man in the chest. He flinches at just how forced his greeting is and the fact that he can not think of anything else to do or say. He figures that his name is a decent start.

Deidara looks at him amused; Obito is thankful that at least the other man has not outright rejected him or worse, ran away. He imagines that it would not look good in front of his boss if he is the reason they lost the new hire. He will be lucky if this whole situation does not get him fired. Actually - he will be lucky if this situation turns out well at all for any of them. Especially him.

Obito holds his breath, waiting anxiously for an answer. Finally, Deidara takes his hand. Obito hopes that his palm is not too sweaty, not too clammy, but Deidara doesn’t seem phased as he grips his hand in a firm handshake.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Deidara grins, “Sorry it took so long.”

[straightouttaneptune]

By your side

Pairing: Harley Keener x reader, Tony Stark x daughter!Reader

Warning: Death, coping with death, panic attacks, along that line...

Summary: Y/N Stark is the next in line as the heiress of Stark Industries after her father’s death. The public is not very patient nor kind to the mourning teen, so who could she turn to?

A/N: SO BEFORE YOU SAY ANYTHING I’m pretty sure Harley is over 18, and I mean for this fic’s Y/N to be 18 here too. So, since Ty Simpkins is 19, there’s no kissing in this fic. But oh lord, thank the gods that I finally liked an actor who’s only 2 years older than me!!

———————————————————————

Your hollow eyes were distant as it watched the arc reactor float way in the lake. One would say it looked empty... but if they were to stop time and cautiously look into them, they’d see the excruciating pain that tortured you. Your skin was pale and dark rings circled your eyes, proof you haven’t slept in over 24 hours.

You held your tears in as best as you could, but your eyes still spilled a few tears. Tony Stark had been nothing but a good father to you. The moment your mother died giving birth to you, he was your only family. He was the one who appointed Natasha your god-mother, who taught you computer coding at the age of 5, and who made you pancakes for breakfast on a lazy Sunday morning. Your life seemed to always be under some sort of spotlight, being a Stark, but it was bearable because of your father’s protection over you from the cruel world.

Now, you had to deal with everything on your own as the heiress of Stark Industries.

1 WEEK LATER

ENGLAND

“You ready?” Happy called out from the front of the family jet, getting ready to open up the door. He gave you a soft smile, secretly feeling bad for the 18 year old girl who had to endure all this. He’d heard that Natasha also left the Avengers to you, which meant you were thinning yourself out too much by juggling two managing roles as well as being the replacement for your father in various ways.

“Yeah!” You beamed at him, plastering on your ‘public face’. As soon as he opened the heavy doors of the jet, camera shutters overlapped with one another, followed by calls of your name.

“Y/N!”

“Miss Stark! Over here!”

“Y/N Stark!”

“Smile for me, Y/N!”

Your smile didn’t falter as you waved and blew kisses, a lot like how your father used to present himself. You were your father’s daughter, deceased or alive. You tried to enjoy yourself, a cocky grin on your face as you neared the stand set up in the airport.

“Hello, folks. As many of you know,”

NEW YORK

“My dear father has passed away.”

MALAYSIA

“He was a hero. A man of honor.”

NETHERLANDS

“It was a known fact that he was in constant danger.”

JAPAN

“But he gave his all for the people.”

MEXICO

“And he sacrificed himself for the greater good.”

RUSSIA

“So I, Y/N Stark, as the heiress of Stark Industries,”

SINGAPORE

“Am going to take over for my father. To continue his legacy and the future he paved for us.”

CANADA

“Thank you for all your support, I will not let you down.”

“Ugh, I need a cheeseburger.” You collapsed into the jet seat, exhausted after the unnecessary trips and giving speeches that didn’t mean jack shit. Your back sank into the fluffy seat, and you secretly wished it’ll swallow you whole.

“Okay.” Happy gave you a sympathetic look, his eyes softening as he ordered a cheeseburger to be delivered as soon as you landed.

You plugged in your earphones and looked away, staring into the nothingness of the blue sky. Your eyes darkened as you thought about your father, holding your hand as you got on the family jet for the first time. You were so infatuated with the scenery back then, a huge smile on his face as he watched you press your nose into the window. Your eyes pooled with tears, you had to quickly blink them away before Happy saw.

“Y/N, we’re here. But a little heads up... the press is also here.” Your tired gaze met with Happy’s, and you couldn’t help but to roll your eyes.

“At least tell me my cheeseburger is here.” You stood up, shoving your phone in your dress pocket rather forcefully. You fixed yourself up in the bathroom, putting sunglasses on to cover your reddened eyes.

“Alright Happy, let the hell loose.” You took a deep breath, walking out proudly with a fake but very believable smile on your lips.

Happy followed with a stern look, a few bodyguards behind him pushing away the interviewers who were practically screaming at you. You threw them peace signs, blew kisses, and reassured them with your charming smile. You made a beeline to your assistant, who was waiting for you with a bag from Burger King in her hands.

“Welcome back, Miss Stark. You have a meeting with Miss Bishop, Mr Parker, Miss Lang and the others in... 46 minutes, for the new Avengers Initiative. Also, Mr Keener has requested to have an appointment with you, where in your schedule shall I place him?” She hustled behind you as you took a bite from your burger. You groaned and faced her, holding your hand up to stop her rambling.

“Relax. Did Fury contact?”

“Oh, yes. He called to see if you’ll appoint him the director of the Avengers.” She went through her files like a sandstorm, stressed out as heck as she replied.

“See, that’s the kind of thing you need to tell me. Tell him Natasha left the Avengers to me, so I’ll deal with it, and he has to rebuild SHIELD first before he can work as director again. Also, Harley? Why did he schedule an appointment? He never does that.”

“He wants to be interviewed for the position of your assistant. So does the 206 other applicants that’s called us this week. But Mr. Keener is your close acquaintance, so I figured it was important to tell you.” She breathed, the two of you entering the Stark tower. Newly designed and remodeled.

“My assistant? Aren’t you my assistant?” You furrowed your brows, why would Harley, your long time friend, want to be your assistant?

“Yes, Miss.” She scrambled to find her phone, dropping her clipboard in the process.

You bent down and picked it up, taking your sunglasses off and smiling at her as you handed her the clipboard. “Okay, have him come in in 10 minutes, he’s hired and you’re fired. Take a vacation. I’ll add extra to your pay.”

Her eyes widened, fear swirling in her eyes. “I don’t have anywhere to go...”

“Look, I’ll pay extra 1,000 dollars, just take care of yourself.” You dismissed her, holding your head up high as you strolled into your office. Her nerve-wrecking stress was going to pass onto you if you hadn’t done something about the girl.

“Thank you, Miss Stark!” You heard her call out before you shut the gigantic door to your office. The big room was quiet, making you feel small and empty. All the pretending to be ‘okay’ wasn’t doing anything for your wellbeing.

You neared your desk and sat down, the laptop lighting up as your hand grazed over the space bar. A picture of your father popped up, him and you smiling next to the first robot you built. You were 7 at the time. You had completely forgotten that that picture was your background, and you felt yourself slowly starting to hyperventilate as you continued to stare at it.

A panic attack. You were truly your father’s daughter now. Your breath fell shallow and your heartbeat picked up its pace, all the suppressed tears now flowing as you crashed on the ground. You tried to breathe but the air caught up in your throat, and you could only cradle yourself as you tried to calm down.

“Y/N?” The door flew open, Harley immediately spotting you on the floor. His eyes widened, throwing his file away carelessly to sit down next to you. He turned the screen off, caressing your back and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. “Breathe, Y/N.” His warmth radiated onto your cold hands, his words pulling you out of the dark pit you were thrown in. His voice was protective and kind, calming your erratic heart.

“Harley.” You were finally able to look up at him, your puffy eyes meeting with his. His eyes held peace and love, somehow washing away your fear and sadness.

“It’s okay, I’m here now.” He pulled you into his chest, arms wrapping around you comfortingly. His right hand caressed your hair as you cried into his shirt, healing your shattered heart piece by piece. It was the first time since your father’s death that you allowed yourself to cry freely, instead of covering everything up with a smile.

“Miss Stark, your meeting in the conference room begins in 5 minutes, should I postpone this event?” Friday’s voice rang through the walls, making you shoot up in realization. The new Avengers initiative. Natasha was counting on you to continue the legacy of the Avengers.

“Harley... thank you.” You mumbled, flashing him a genuine smile. “You’re hired, by the way, so you have to come with me.” You stood up, wiping away your tears and grabbing your sunglasses. He gave you a cheeky look as he stood up and gathered his things, which was just a tablet and not a file full of papers. Suddenly glad you fired the girl, you adjusted your suit and readied yourself to face the fire.

“Welcome, boys and girls.” You pushed the glass door open, arms extended as you entered the room full of teenage angst. Peter looked like he just got here after a bad mental breakdown, his eyes trained on you. Kate actually looked enthusiastic while Cassie looked confused and fascinated with her surroundings. Carol, Wanda, Brunnhilde, Sam and Bucky were each in their holograms to attend the meeting.

“Sunglasses indoors? A very Stark move.” Kate commented as you sat down in the middle seat, signaling for Harley to sit next to you.

“What can I say? I am a Stark.” Your tone was playful, but internally you were thanking god that no one thought it weird. “Alright. Folks. You’re here because you’re in line for the next Avengers. I was thinking of putting together the younger team, and the ones who actually used to be in the original team.” The wall behind you dissolved into a digital panel, playing a simple slide you prepared at 2am last night.

“Carol, you’ll continue outer space with the guardians. Wanda, you’ll be with Stephen working on mystic threats. Sam, Bucky, you’ll be with Sharon, Rhodey and Brunnhilde for Earth. You all report back to me, and your rooms in the Avengers compound are being remade. You’re welcome back anytime.” You finished, and they gave you nods of approval with a few thank you’s, before signing off to finish their own business.

“Now that that’s over, we’re the young Avengers. We’re going to replace the OG Avengers, Fury will return as director after he finishes rebuilding SHIELD, so we’ll take missions from him. Let’s go over the basics.” You announced, the panels switching to a hologram of the plans for the future.

A few hours later

“That went well. That’s one problem out of the way, at least.” You stretched your back, walking over to the lounge to relax a little bit.

“Y/N, just got a call. An award ceremony for you tomorrow.” Harley sighed beside you, tapping away on his tablet.

“Jesus, I haven’t even done anything.” You groaned, turning on the TV as soon as you reached the leather couch.

“Y/N Stark. Genius, hero, an American patriot. Just like her father, the great Tony Stark, her excellent mind worked wonders for America from a very young age. Graduating top of the class from MIT at the age 16, Y/N also became the youngest Avenger and now, the CEO of Stark Industries as well as the Director of the Avengers.” You watched with a dull expression as you watched the montage of yourself, praised to the highest clouds and made out to be the next great Tony Stark.

“Yeah. That’s why. You wanna turn it off?” Harley looked at you with a clear smirk on his face, eyeing the TV.

“No... It’s cheesy but I like being praised.” You fell into the cushions, turning the TV off as soon as the praise ended. Harley chuckled at your Stark attitude, leaning on the back of the couch as he watched you.

“I’ll praise you all you want if you come with me to the lab department. You have a interview for the candidates in 10, y’know?” He looked into your eyes, and something in his gaze made you want to stand up and follow him downstairs.

“Fine. Praise me.” You giggled and walked out of the room, grabbing a cup of coffee from the coffee stand you placed around the company. Genius.

“You’re beautiful, obviously the Stark genes. You’re weirdly likable, and you’re a literal genius. You work so hard and try to show everyone that you’re fine just to reassure people who didn’t do shit for you. You’re a truly caring and brave person, and you deserved so much more than what you got...” He trailed off as you looked up at him with wide eyes, the elevator door closing in front of the two of you.

“Keener, why’re you being so sweet?” You smirked at him, who was blushing a bright shade of red under your gaze. But the mood quickly disappeared as the elevator opened to the laboratory floor.

“Alright, humans. I hear you want to be hired at the world’s leading technology and Human Resources company. I mean, why wouldn’t you?” You scoffed playfully, leading the group into the labs.

“That’s another thing complete. Anything else today?” You cracked your knuckles as the elevator shot you back up to your floor. Harley was right beside you with his tablet, smiling widely as he shook his head no.

“That’s great. I’m gonna go tire myself out in the lab.” You announced as the elevator dinged, opening the doors to a huge lab that took up the whole floor.

You got off and smiled brightly, before running off to work on more of the nanotechnology that you’ve been tackling. “Welcome back, Miss Stark.” FRIDAY greets from the speakers, pulling you into the zone of endless tinkering.

3am, Stark Industries

In Stark Industries, workers gets off at 5pm, so there should be zero to none heat signatures in the tower. But like always, you’re still in your lab, ignoring sleep with your endless caffeine fixes.

“Model failed.” The screen blinked red, FRIDAY announcing your 100th failure of the night. You downed the remaining coffee, sighing heavily as you thought of what to do.

“Fine. Replace the 0.2% Hydrogen chloride solution with a 1%, see what it’ll do.” Your head hung low as you slumped down in your desk, the warmth of your heated computer lulling you into sleep.

“Model successful.” Your eyelids brightened up at the bright green light, but it wasn’t bright enough for you to open your eyes.

“Yay...” You mumbled into your arm, falling into a well-earned deep sleep.

The elevator door opened quietly at the laboratory floor, as Harley Keener walked out of the compartment. He had fallen asleep waiting for you to come back up to your office, and he woke up just to realize you hadn’t even left the lab in over 10 hours.

“Y/N?...” He took cautious steps, knowing a Stark and a lab aren’t the safest combinations out there. But all he saw was you slumped over your desk, angelic face resting peacefully on the overheating laptop.

“Aw.” He chuckled to himself, glancing at you love-struck. He never found the right time to tell you about his long time crush, and he’s not sure if he ever will be able to. 

So for now, he carries you in a bridal position, laying you softly on your couch and makes sure you don’t wake up. He wraps a white blanket around you, smiling to himself as he turns off the lights, leaving the floor with his heart still hammering from holding you so close. 

“Don’t worry. We’ll be okay, Tony.” He whispered as he looked up into the air, hoping that somewhere, Tony heard his oath to protect you and love you until the very end. 

He did. 

[kyliexc]

BUENAAAASSSSSSSSSS ! soy yo , mini from da 6ix , again . coming at you with my original kid . she’s changed just a bit , but still pretty much a god damn  M E S S .  and bad bunny’s vete came on shuffle soOoOooOoooOOOOOOOOOOOOO LEGGO !

chicago’s very own Kylie Castillo has been spotted on madison avenue driving a BMW X5 , welcome ! your resemblance to Becky G is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty second birthday bash  . your chance of surviving new york is uncertain because you’re impulsive , but being loyal might help you . i think being a Aries explains that .  3 things that would paint  a  better picture of you would be a bottle of patron, late night partying and 20grams of weed . 

hit the mfng like button for plots bc I WILL mssge u or else

BASICS ! 

Full Name: kylie valentina castillo

Nickname(s): ky, kyky, k, kybby

Age: 22

Height: 5 ft

Date of Birth: April 15th 1997

Zodiac sign: aries

Hogwarts house: slythindor (slytherin + gryffindor)

Ethnicity: mexican

Nationality: american

Gender: cis female

Pronouns: she/her

Orientation: bisexual

Religion: agnostic-catholic

Tattoos: a peach on her ass, #2 tramp stamp and canon becky g tattoos

Language(s) Spoken: english + spanish

Accent: american with a hint of spanish

BACK STORY ! 

kylie castillo is the third born child from alejandro and lupe castillo ! alejandro was a renowned soccer player from jalisco, mexico . he played for the mexican national team AND for Barcelona FC . lupe castillo is also from jalisco , mexico , but she attended school in spain where she began as a seamstress for a small vintage boutique before going off on her own to start her own exclusive brand that made it big - as in , only those who could really afford the clothing could wear it . lupe is owner to ROSARIO . lupe and alejandro met in spain , but ultimately moved to chicago to settle down with their kids since kylie’s paternal grandparents lived there.

Kylie was born in Chicago , Illinois , but throughout her childhood , she bounced between Chicago, Los Angeles , and Barcelona ! 

kylie took after her dad , immediately falling in love with soccer since she was little . it wasn’t like the castillos pushed her into it , she found the sport herself . kylie , along with her siblings were a sports family in general . most of her siblings got into some sport growing up , whether they took it seriously or not was up to them , but kylie definitely did. 

kylie and her dad are really close for the fact that he basically coached her throughout her entire athletic career . kylie is very competitive because of this , and super into keeping herself fit . she sees a goal , she wants it , and she’ll do anything to get it . her jersey is #3 !

besides soccer , she really loves to sing and it came out of nowhere but it was due to all the family parties she has . often an acoustic guitar would be brought out and everyone , including kylie would be singing along to vincente fernandez - heck , you know the castillos hired a mariachi band to be part of these gatherings . 

ky spent a lot of time with her grandparents who would ALWAYS be blasting old mariachi / love songs , singing at the top of their lungs to each other , and from this kylie enjoyed what music did for her . performing was just another thing that came easy to her . the stage , whether it be an actual stage or just a small little space where she was surrounded by family , it was home to her , and she was never afraid . the one place where she could vocally express herself is through her lyrics . ky and her cousins often would write down song lyrics , pretend to perform for thousands of people - but it wasn’t something she ever thought she’d do . it was just for fun , and she took up extra curriculars besides soccer that related to it . i . e dance , acting , etc. 

yet , that was something else , her eyes were on the prize , and that was soccer . sort of . 

kylie had everything set for her to continue playing soccer after high school , to eventually make it onto the US Women’s Soccer team - yet she deadass started to slowly give it all up at the beginning of her 4th year of high school , hanging with the stoner kids , practicing less , putting less effort. she eventually found the underground rap scene -  she loved soccer , but it was time for something else , especially when her dad was mad at her , the field didn’t feel like home like the stage did .

on soundcloud , and youtube , kylie lent her vocals to some guys she met , being on their tracks . her sound was unique because she sang and rapped in both spanish and english . she was earning a name online , her followers going up and tbh , she wasn’t trying but it came to her and when she saw the numbers rise , and her name get out there a bit . she rlly started working on that part of her life . 

A MESS ?! * TW : abortion , drugs , etc .

in high school , she met giovanni ho ho hoe narciso . they were friends for a long time until finally , they started dating . definitely one of the reasons, but not the main reason why she also didn’t care about the sport as much - but kylie’s dad blamed gio a lot fo kylie not playing soccer . so her dad didn’t like gio , and to make matters worse , he didn’t like gio’s dad . so it was a HOT MESS . kylie ultimately had to choose between her family and gio , and when she said yes to marrying gio , she chose gio .  

18 years old and she ran off to marry gio - except that didn’t happen . 

she woke up one morning , he was gone and she couldn’t get a hold of him anymore . ky really didn’t have a choice besides going back to her family , and BET her dad was all ‘i told you so’ 

she couldn’t contact gio but YOU BET she ended up finding him eventually to get in the lasdt mfng word but that conversation ended up with her just being hurt , and it was the last time she really saw gio . he moved on , whether she believed it or not , he did .

so fast forward not long after that meeting . kylie found out she’s pregnant . obviously , it was gio’s . and she had two choices , keep it or get rid of it . 

without telling anyone , except her best friend , kylie got an abortion . which , no one knows , not even her family , not even gio .

SECRET ! 

        ***again , not many people know this ? but the                  one above is a secret too ?? she’s just full of          secrets. JKFDHDFKG

from 20 - 21 , kylie moved out , hopping from place to place within chicago . but she definitely went off grid . not caring for social media , not contacting her parents . 

kylie went into a strip club and at first it was for jokes , but when she got on the pole - she was actually good ?? JDKHGDKFJHDFKJH so the manager offered her a job and well , bitch took it . so she did that for a year , hanging with the wrong crowd, drinking every day , smoking weed which is a staple for her , but she started to do blow - which is .. not a staple for her . it was a dangerous year for kylie .

but doing blow , and selling it for awhile while working the pole gave her the connections she needed to meet rich guys with status in the music industry. 

so eventually , her EP made it in the hands of a producer for sony music latin . 

so she left the pole and started being featured with big time Latin names 

think cardi b’s start up and yeah , she definitely drugged men and stole from them while doing this too DKJGFHDKFJ

PERSONALITY + CURRENT SITUATION !

kylie’s back bitches ! as in people already knew her but she’s been M.I.A for a year , so she’s back and ppl are like wtf KDJGHDKFJGHSFKDJ and she lives in New York now

currently she’s working on her first album release.

besides the mess , she’s a GOD DAMN GOOD TIME. if you ever need to get drunk and party. kylie is your girl . if you need to get fucked up, you better have her on speed dial.

kylie’s the bitch with the bottle of patron , serving tequila shots , and then dancing on top of tables.

highkey always ready for a fight . she doesn’t care where she is , she will always SWING. don’t play games thinking she’s gonna back down from a fight bc she won’t. if u want a fight , ky will give u one KJDHGKSFJDHGKSDJGH talk shit get hit is her motto and i hate her for it

she has a black cat named mijo

her friends and family are the loves of her life . literally , if you mean something to her , there’s nothing she won’t do for you . she will ADORE YOU

if ur her enemy .... that’s fun too. :)

confident AF

she’s an all around bitch i hate her , but she’s a mess , and she’s funny , and she’s too much sometimes .

too stubborn for her own good all the time bc she thinks she’s always right. 

she’s also really goofy when she wants to be

has a hell of a good work ethic , will get shit done when it needs to be done . is definitely the pushy friend to encourage others to do the same.

BEST HYPE WOMAN EVER

she loves assholes.

her lito, lita, ita, tito {grandparents} are her favourite people ever

will cuss you out in spanish and english

hella hot tempered and uhm...

YEAH THERE’S A LOT BUT YEAH I THINK I GOT IT COVERED KGJHDSKFHG

[nevergiveupneverrun]

Bodyguard - Chapter Forty-Nine “Collateral Damage”

Hello everybody, how are you? Here is chapter Forty-Nine of my Story Bodyguard. I hope you will like this chapter. 

I’m sorry in advance for the mistakes… English isn’t my first language and I do my best. Here is the link to the previous chapter: Click Here.

I hope you will enjoy this chapter :) 💛

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The drip from the coffee maker mobilizes my concentration.

The second coffee I make in the morning when it’s only 9:30 am.

The fault of an early morning awakening… and a restless and light sleep when I have been awake since 5:30 am and my night is only a few hours.

Yesterday’s events haunted me all night: the new image of Amelia, her behavior and her words that still obsess me.

“I understand that you don’t want me “.

All her injuries summarized in a few words: I know her story, the tricks of her life, the shortcomings she had to endure. And I find myself despite myself being the one who reopens and stirs up her deep pains.

She wanted to hurt herself yesterday. in an extreme process of self-destruction.

And I was there for something, by confronting her again with a rejection…

I almost disgust myself.

But I can’t give her what she expects.

I will not be up to it, I don’t know how to do what she asks. I forgot… and buried everything deep inside.

However, those hours of thinking led me to a resolution: trying to forgive myself. Make her life easier, be attentive but without crossing the red line…

She was fragile and vulnerable.

And paradoxically, having experienced these difficult moments made me stronger: now I knew the pain I was causing her by giving her the illusion of an impossible relationship, I had the will and the strength that I lacked until then.

To silence urges and desires.

To overcome temptation.

Involved in my work, but without mixing genre, dissociating feelings and attachment.

.

And my resolution takes effect this morning.

I patiently wait for her in the kitchen.

I had known Amelia well for many months spent together and I knew that breakfast was the time of the day that she preferred: she liked taking time, quietly savoring these first moments by reading a few lines, scribbling a song or humming, guitar in hand.

Quite naturally, simple attention had come to my mind: attention that could touch her but also make the apartment more pleasant and less cold.

So I was making her breakfast.

The table was set with a small bouquet of pink peonies that I had ordered to brighten up the kitchen bar.

Coffee was running.

Orange juice, jam, and Nutella are gathered near the plates.

Some crepes that I cooked are waiting warm under a cloche.

Just like a box of cheesecake from The Cheesecake Factory and donuts from Top Pot Doughnuts that I had delivered… like after the attack we suffered after her concert.

I hear muffled steps gradually approaching me.

The visual quickly adds to the sound and I discover Amelia, already prepared and dressed for the day.

I scrutinize her face and I am quickly reassured by crossing her eyes: I find the spark and the usual glow in her gaze, and no longer these two distressing pupils that I had observed the day before.

She stops a few meters from the kitchen bar: I notice the path of her gaze which passes from the coffee maker to the flowers, then to the food staged by me.

- Good morning, how are you feeling?

She stays silent for a few seconds, then stares at me intensely.

- I’m fine, the headache is gone. It’s not the best night of my life, but I’m pretty much rested…

- You look better than yesterday, anyway, I say with a smile. You want some coffee?

She nods and I go-ahead to prepare her cup.

When I turned around with her cup in hand, she has strangely not moved, still a reasonable distance from the kitchen bar.

- Settle down… I proposed shyly, surprised by her reserve.

- What does it mean, Owen? She ends up asking while deciding to sit down.

- It’s a breakfast, you know the concept, I think, I answer with a touch of humor.

A facade mood to try to hide my embarrassment in front of her unenthusiastic reaction.

- Flowers, cheesecakes and even crepe you made yourself? She questions by unhooking the plate. You explain the opportunity to me? The reason or all this?

- It’s just breakfast, Amelia.

- Usually, my breakfast is a coffee with some toast… not cheesecakes from the Cheesecake Factory or donuts from Top Pot Doughnut…

- I thought it was a great way to start the day. Yesterday was a bit stressful and it might make you feel better in this new apartment. I know you enjoy this time of day. Come on, enjoy it, please don’t worry, I insisted, handing her a piece of vanilla cheesecake, one of those she prefers.

She takes it with the tips of her fingers and enjoys a bite but keeps her attention on me.

I felt like I was being studied from every angle as if she was trying to better understand the situation through my attitude.

- I don’t understand… she ends up announcing after finishing her cheesecake.

- Sorry?

- Why are you doing this, Owen? What are you looking for with this breakfast?

- I told you… it’s so that you can adapt a little faster to your new home.

- And why do you think it will help me?

- Because I know you like having a big breakfast like that. I thought you would like it.

- That makes me happy… but why you want to make me happy, that’s what I don’t understand…

- If you simply enjoyed it, I answer with a slight smile, destabilized by all the questions she raises me.

- Have you done this in the past?

- Yes, it happens to me regularly to prepare breakfast, I resume laughing slightly.

- Do not pretend to not understand, she continues seriously. I asked you the question as part of your duties: have you often done breakfast for one of your clients? Have you ever bothered to order her favorite flowers? To cook crepes at 8am? To buy donuts with her favorite tastes because it is her guilty pleasure?

- Listen, I just wanted to please you after a difficult day, if you…

- Have you often wanted to please your clients? She asks me cutting me in my sentence.

The video doorbell rings suddenly.

A timely interruption for me: Amelia’s question put me in a delicate situation… what could I answer?

Confess to her that I am disgusted with myself?

That I don’t want her to hate me and that I’m just trying to redeem myself in her eyes?

That I don’t want to see her suffer like yesterday again?

But where her question touches a sensitive point is that my reaction is out of place while I work for her: I should not worry as much about our relationship… let’s say, human.

And she was right: I had never bothered to do all this for a client… the only one, for which I had made so much effort, was for the one who broke my heart.

The one who made me understand the utopia of love.

.

I leave the kitchen in a hurry, taking full advantage of this loophole.

I immediately recognize Meredith’s face on the videophone screen.

- Good morning, Meredith, I open and unlock our lift for you.

- Good morning and thank you, she answers.

- Who is it?

I turn around at the sound of Amelia’s voice which seems very close to me: she is actually only a few steps from me.

- It’s Meredith.

- There is a problem?

- Uh… I didn’t ask her why she was there so early… I opened her directly…

Caught up in my eagerness to find a distraction from our conversation, I actually didn’t even bother to pin down the reason for her presence so early in the morning.

The doorbell rings and I open immediately, standing in front of the door.

Meredith appears to us with a big smile.

- Good morning Owen, and Hi sweetie, she announces, hugging Amelia.

- Hello Mer, what makes us worth your visit so early in the morning? Hastens to ask Amelia while leading her to the living room.

I follow the two women while staying at a distance while they settle on the sofa.

- Well, I have bad news… and a super-duper mega good news, Meredith answers with a big smile. Which one do you want first?

- Give me the wrong one, that way you comfort me with the other one, replies Amelia.

- Ok, then the bad news concerns your foundation and more specifically the construction of the new welcome house. We didn’t manage to find construction companies partners for the project, in any case, none who see the project agrees to work for the budget of 500,000 dollars that you propose.

I watch Amelia and I see a serious look taking place on her face.

- Bernard let us down on this one?

I don't know who this Bernard is, but I guess he’s the boss of a construction company, that Amelia must know.

- I got him on the phone, he was really sorry, I assure you, but you know the economic climate at the moment… he simply cannot afford to accept to work at this price for a project which will occupy a third of his team for six months.

- How much should be added to make it reasonable in the current context? Questions Amelia directly.

- I know what you are thinking Amelia, and you have nothing to finance it alone…

- I can add 200,000 dollars on the 500,000 starting that I released, persists the singer.

- It won’t be enough… we talk about a lot more… sighs Meredith.

- How much?

- Your project has been estimated to be at least $2 million… and Bernard would be ready to make an effort but below 1.5 million, he cannot commit the future of his business.

- Of course, I understand… responds weakly, Amelia.

I feel the disappointment in her response, but also the sign that she is already thinking about a remedy.

- We must find a patron, support to finalize the funding, she continues, already revived with a strong conviction.

- Exactly, but you have to go fast, says Meredith as a warning. Bernard is ready to hire his teams, but he only leaves us a few days to confirm whether or not we are continuing the project. He has a Seattle City hall adjudication in the balance and given the context, he cannot let such a site slip through his fingers.

- A few days? But I won’t have time in a few days. I need to schedule meetings. That I do a little tour of the different networks that can be activated… I will not find this amount with a single contributor, we will have to convince several.

- Not sure… retorts Meredith mysteriously.

- Can you tell me who would be willing to drop two million dollars for my project in the minute?

I can see a strong and firm look between the two young women, as an exchange without words.

- No, I don’t want to ask him, says Amelia. I will be too indebted to him then, he would benefit in his interest.

- But it’s an effective track that would solve all the problems.

- There must be another solution… insists Amelia.

- Listen, I know the context since yesterday, I already spent a lot of calls, I studied the problem from every angle and I didn’t find any other alternative, believe me… so please, take some time to think about it…

- Ok, I’ll think about it, I promise, concedes Amelia. Well, give me this great news now because I need it.

Meredith smiles and grabs her purse, placed at her feet, to take out a letter.

- Do you know what’s going on in 15 days? A fairly important musical event…

- Yes, the Music Awards… they want me to sing, right? Replies Amelia.

- Actually, they would like you to perform a song and a little more… continues Meredith in a mysterious air.

- Two songs? Asks Amelia in a smile.

- No, remember the purpose of this evening is to award prizes and you are nominated, sweetie… in two categories! Concludes Meredith a little louder, dropping the news directly, unable to keep it to herself anymore.

- What? Am I nominated for an award? Resumes Amelia, stunned by the information.

I cannot help smiling when I see her react in this way but also when I hear this news: with a feeling of pride and satisfaction that settles in me.

- Two prizes! Best female artist and best pop/folk album of the year.

- Wow, I don’t believe it, whispers Amelia.

- I am so happy for you. You deserve it so much, after all this work, finally the consecration of being recognized by the profession.

Meredith then hands Amelia the official letter informing of her appointment.

I approach slowly the two young women to react in my turn to this good news.

- Congratulations Amelia, I’m delighted for you.

She reads the letter then looks up at me, with a slight smile.

- You see, I couldn’t wait to tell you this, and I wanted to tell you visually and not by phone. So in two weeks, direction Los Angeles!

- Thank you, Meredith, Amelia continues taking her manager in her arms for a few moments.

- You’re welcome, but I have nothing to do with it. On the other hand, now that I have done my duty as a messenger, I will have to leave you, my jobs call me. So you keep this little door opener very preciously and you think about what I told you.

- It’s okay, Mer. See you quickly to talk about all this again.

- Good day to you both. Owen, do not bother you, I know how to take it out, concludes Meredith in a wink.

A door slam sounds quickly indicating the actual departure of Meredith from the apartment.

.

I reposition myself in front of Amelia, in front of the sofa.

Her gaze is lowered on the letter Meredith gave her as if she still didn’t believe it.

- As Meredith said, it’s deserved. I sincerely hope that you will win these awards.

- Don’t tell me that kind of thing, Owen, she suddenly announces, looking up at me and leaving the couch.

She takes a few steps forward: she turns her back on me and I can’t make out her face which would have shed light on her state of mind.

- Which things?

- These remarks where I detect almost a point of pride… how do you want that…

- Please, look at me when you’re speaking, I don’t understand what you’re implying.

She shrugs then turns around and I can see wet eyes facing me.

- How do you want me to stop wanting more? When you talk to me like that? That you give me attention that no man has…

- Excuse me, I said coming closer to her. I didn’t mean to complicate things.

- But you do. I can’t do it, you see. I can’t see you, like just a bodyguard when you act like this morning when you talk to me like you just did. I see you as a man… like a…

She doesn’t finish her sentence: I perceive the emotion and the distress which gin her in front of the situation. And I feel helpless because I don’t see what option to offer her, what solution to put in place.

- In a few days, everything will be less complicated, over time, the memories of… the night we spent will be less vivid.

- I don’t think so… it’s not only that… listen, I’m going through all of this in my head and I’m still at the same dead end… and I see only one solution…

- Ok, tell me, and I promise you that I will follow whatever you ask me.

She looks down for a moment to break our connection then finds my gaze to tell me what she has in mind.

- I put an end to your contract, Owen.

- What?

- Listen, I can’t do it… I can’t do it anymore… so consider that from now on, you’re no longer working for me. You can stay here for another day or two, enough time to stay somewhere else or find a hotel.

- Really? Is that the solution you see? Ask me to leave? And your security in all of this?

I do a series of questions in a breath. Everything is jostling in my head.

-��I haven’t had any new threats since we got home. This crazy may have gotten tired… or found another target… and at worst, I will hire someone else.

- If Richard had chosen me, it was because he trusted me to protect you, me and no one else, don’t forget that choice…

- Don’t talk about Richard, please. He made a choice, but I can make mine too…

- Please take the time to think about it, I insisted. I will make all the efforts you want… if something happens to you… I will not be quiet knowing that…

I will blame myself all my life, I continue internally, without expression out loud all my fears and my helplessness upon hearing her decision.

- Owen, it’s not your problem anymore.

- And for the ceremony, how will you do?

- That’s still far away, I’ll notify by then…

- He will necessarily try something at this time, your nominations will be quickly publicized. I’m not used to not finishing my missions, I argued as last resort.

- I always have the choice not to go to this ceremony, she whispers weakly. Respect my decision, please… I can’t split things up like you do and I don’t want to create a situation that will destroy me slowly.

I stare at her intensely while trying to spot a point of doubt or hesitation.

But nothing of the sort, a look touched by emotion but reflection a firm conviction.

- Ok… I dropped in a whisper, like a fighter giving up arms.

- You can go to the record company, I will tell Meredith to pay you for the balance of the contract.

- As you wish, I answer absently.

The situation seems almost unreal to me. And yet…

- You will thank Nathan and Jackson for all their help during these long months, I really appreciated all their efforts and in particular the discovery of this apartment. I hope I can continue to live there, even if you don’t work for me anymore?

- Uh… yes, you can without a problem…

A silence settles down then: a heavy silence while we observe ourselves face to face.

I study her face while realizing that it is potentially the last minutes that I share with her in this way. The last moments when I can draw her like this. And the deepest regrets take bold of me.

My unforgivable error turns out to be fraught with consequences: a real cataclysm… I never imagined that Amelia would come to ask me to leave…

- I have phone calls to make, so…

- Of course, I will… I will pack my things…

- If I am in conversation when you’re done, can you put your keys on the kitchen bar?

Her innocently pronounced request tenses me up, she visibly pushes me toward the exit.

Not a day or two of respite, finally…

- Yes, don’t worry.

She swings from one foot to the other for a few seconds, then speaks weakly.

- Thank you for everything, Owen… without you, I might not be here anymore… and you have been very supportive in recent weeks… I am really grateful for all that you have done and for your constant investment in protecting me… and… I wish you the best for the future.

- Thank you, Amelia… good luck… and…

I don’t know how to continue. I would have so much to say to her: that she be careful, that she has more self-confidence… that I regret so much everything that happened…

But especially that I apologize for being who I am. With his pains, his cracks and his chronic inability to open up to others… and to believe in the idea of loving without suffering.

- Be happy, I end up saying weakly.

She smiles shyly at me.

I await a little feverish contact, a gesture, but she finally exceeds me without touching me but giving me a last intense look and a wonderful smile.

I turn around to follow her with my eyes until I no longer see her as she turns down the hall to reach her room.

.

More than a vacuum then around me.

.

I only now notice the beating of my heart: fast and strong in my chest.

But every beat hurts like my heart is cracking…

As if something had been ripped from me.

.

But no one but me to blame.

.

I am my own executioner… and probably also her own…

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Thank you for reading. Please don’t cry... Have a great week 💛

[blueyesandleatherjacket]

The girl in the pub

► The girl in the pub - Ninth Doctor/Rose Tyler. ► Here’s my submission to the @dwsecretsanta for natural--blues. I hope you’ll enjoy it! ► AU Verse, All ages. ► 5,979 words.

"Perhaps it's a place about which everyone knows only one fact." - Bill Nighy in The Girl in the Cafe.

USERNAME BAD WOLF PASSWORD ***************** LOGIN WELCOME BACK ON BIGGER IN THE INSIDE, ROSE. IT’S ALWAYS A PLEASURE TO SEE YOU HERE. WHAT’S ON YOUR MIND TODAY?

Rose Tyler smiled at the blinking cursor on the empty white page of her website. So many things had happened to her in the last weeks and it was hard to decide of where to start this story for this new post. She had created this website years ago, during her studies as a web developer, and had forgotten it the minute she got her diplomas. She had come back to it months later when she had found out that she couldn’t get a proper job because of a particularity of hers. Interview after interview, they were refusing her for the simple reason that she was different. Discrimination in hiring. This had infuriated her so much that she had needed a place to vent and share this experience, a place where we would be able to communicate freely without any barrier. She had found out she wasn’t the only one to have gone through this injustice. Bigger on the inside wasn’t a name she had chosen randomly. Rose was a naturally kind and caring person and she had discovered that people were more than just a surface to scratch. If you looked deeper, you could have great surprises. This was a motto concerning all the people in the world but that also applied to her. Many persons had barely scratched her surface and chosen to leave her behind soon after. All because of her particularity. She didn’t have many friends. To be honest, she only had a couple of acquaintances she had met through her website. Acquaintances that shared her particularity. Creating Bigger on the inside had opened new doors on the world to her. It had given her the courage she needed to build her own business. It was easy to find work as a web developer when you were your own boss. All her customers were talking to her through private messages and she was working from her on ace. She had gone against all the prejudices people had about her. Rose Tyler was deaf. She had never known how it was to hear the smallest of sounds. She was born on a sunny day toward the end of April. Her mother had stayed around long enough to give her a name and a couple months of happiness. Then, her father died and Jacqueline Tyler had been unable to cope with the loss of her husband and their daughter’s disability. Rose was placed in the system and raised by different people, different foster families that never understood or try to understand why she was so different from the other kids. She found her shelter, her salvation, in books. She was pending her time in the local bookshop. She had read everything little thing she could read and taught herself everything she knew today including the sign language, the coding, the marketing. She had used that knowledge to build herself the better life that she had so far. And it was a success. She had founded the Bad Wolf Corporation and developed an association for the young and not so young persons who had been in her situation: left behind and discriminated. It was a small association where deaf persons could find a shelter and dedicated volunteers to teach them the basic things and help them to fit in the harsh society. More recently, she had bought an old bookshop, gave it a new name – The Blue Box in reference to the old police box gathering dust not far down the road. It had become her headquarters. There was the bookshop part and her computing space of work next to the storehouse. There wasn’t much activity yet but some people were coming in and buying books or settling down in the reading space for a moment. There was a sign on her counter informing her customers she couldn’t answer to spoken demands. Everyone was playing the game so far.

NEW POST GIVE A TITLE TO YOUR NEW POST “Don't mind me. I'm just toasting the happy couple. On the house!”

After a long day of work, it is not unusual for me to reward myself with a pint at the local pub. I place my order and sip my beer quietly. Drop money on the counter and leave for home. Sometimes I would bring the Times or a book and enjoying my time off before going back home. A little ritual of mine. That evening was no different from usual. I was at the pub reading the new issue of the Times when this guy showed up. Large ears, big nose, dark brown hair. The atmosphere was festive when I’ve come in. A couple was celebrating their new engagement. It all turned to craziness when he came in. I moved to a quieter corner of the pub and occasionally glanced at the party. My beer done, I folded my newspaper. I was getting ready to leave. At my very own pace. That’s when I’ve noticed that he had moved to come and sit across of me. He had been sat here for a while and I haven’t noticed him at all. His lips moved. I walked away. Not the first time some ‘cool’ guy tries to flirt with me and this one clearly was one of them. The Doctor was in a good mood that evening. He was in a mood for a drink, but not a drink alone in his place. A drink in a public place where he would be able to share his happiness and maybe find a one night woman to satisfy him. He never had much success with women before. The blame was on his unusual and rough appearance. No woman would fancy a man with ears that were too large, a distorted big nose, a large forehead? No one had ever wanted him before and then, he released a single, became number one in the United Kingdom and with the success came the women who started fancying the successful man he had become. He shouldn’t have fallen into the arms of this disgusting spiral all famous artists were slipping in but the temptation of giving in to these love letters and promises of forever had been too strong. Tonight, he was celebrating the release of his third album. The Turn of the Earth he had titled it in reference to the first single extracted from this album: “I can feel it / The turn of the Earth / the ground beneath our feet / Is spinning at 1,000 miles an hour / And the entire planet is hurtling / Around the Sun at 67,000 miles an hour. / And I can feel it. / We’re falling through space / you and me, clinging to the skin / Of this tiny little world / And if we let go / If you let go / I will drift endlessly / In this never-ending universe.” He was writing cheesy love songs he didn’t think a word of for he never met his soulmate. All bullshit. The women he was meeting, having affairs with, had no real interest in him. They all wanted the fame, the money. He was just a way to get it. That was why he was having one night affair after one night affair. He should have gone to the party his staff was having tonight for the new album but these people were no fun. You would have thought that in the world of music, and more specifically in the world of rock music, people would be funnier, a bunch of party-goers addicted to sex and drugs and alcohol. His team was nowhere near that and it was quite boring to party with them. So he had pretended to be needed elsewhere for personal reasons and had looked for a place where he would have fun, alcohol and sex. He was reasonable enough not to fall in the trap of drugs like many other artists but he could never say no to alcohol. Getting wasted made him forget about the loneliness an superficiality of such a life. Everyone was looking for fame but fame wasn’t bringing real happiness. Only a fake euphory. He found a pub with a good atmosphere. Someone was partying in there, celebrating a happiness that never was given to him in over thirty years of life. He pushed the door open, a large grin on his face and entered the pub. This joyful atmosphere was all he needed tonight. It became crazy once he was in. He walked to the counter and ordered a bottle of the best champagne. That’s at that very moment he noticed her. He was sitting there, sipping a pint of beer and reading the newspaper. She didn’t seem disturbed by the noise around her. Such an ability to ignore your surroundings was impressive. It wasn’t what caught his eye though. He had seen a lot of women falling to his feet but none of them were equalling her beauty. For a moment, he could nothing but admiring this reading beauty. Even tucking a strand of hair behind her ear made her the most beautiful woman he had even seen. “The news isn’t that good lately, heh?” She didn’t reply to him, didn’t even glance at him. With the noise around, she probably hadn’t heard him. The party-animals were singing loudly and screaming congratulations. Her calm was admirable. It was as if she was stuck in her own bubble and was disregarding her surroundings. The barman was gone in the wine cellar to find the bottle he had asked for. It was taking some time so he jumped over the counter, poured himself a pint and sat down beside the blonde girl and babbled happily. He didn’t remark immediately that she wasn’t giving attention to him and, to be honest, that was quite offending. No one was ignoring him. He was the Doctor. The international rock star. The best in cheesy love songs. Every teenager and grown woman were falling to his feet for a glance from him. Why was she ignoring him? “I’m the Doctor by the way, what’s your name?” No answer. She was deliberating ignoring him and that wasn’t nice of her. He never met anyone who could resist the famous Doctor. Who did she think she was to ignore him so conspicuously? He was gonna tell her his way of thinking when the barman came back with the bottle. The Doctor moved to the party, shook the champagne. “Don't mind me. I'm just toasting the happy couple. On the house!” The fiancée went crazy and her friends had to hold her back or she would have jumped on him. The cap popped and champagne rained over the guests. He took the time for pictures and partied with the happy couple until they were too drunk to see if he was there or not. He ordered another pint. The blonde girl wasn’t at the counter anymore. He had been afraid that she might have left but he found her sitting in a quiet corner. He sat across of her and took another chance. “You know, most of the girls of your age would sell their organs just to spend a minute with me. I am impressive.” The world was kinda revolving around him at the moment. All around the world, there were millions of fans waiting impatiently for his new album to drop so they could be the first to buy it. Could it be possible that she didn’t know him? That she didn’t care? No. The world did care. The world did love him. She could only be playing a game and it ended with her leaving and him being broken-hearted.

GIVE A TITLE TO YOUR NEW SECTION “Run for your life!”

The barman informed me, in my language, when I came back days later that this man had come back every day. He was ordering a beer and waiting for me to come through the door. Which I never did. I was working on a new project for a big company and didn’t have the time to go out and enjoy a night off at the pub. Busy man that he was, the day I finally passed through the door, he couldn’t be here. He had left a note for me. A sloppy, awkward, almost impossible to read handwriting. Something just to say that he would be back one day and would curry favours. Who was using such a language nowadays? I creased the paper, threw it in the first bin I found and forgot about this man. I wasn’t interested. He seemed to have a bit of an ego to him and it was everything I hated about men. He wanted something he couldn’t get and he was insisting. I didn’t know his name – he hadn’t signed the note – and I didn’t want to know it. Never heard of him either. No pun intended here. I had no desire to see him again and I avoided the pub, picked another just to be sure he wouldn’t find me. It was hard to wander in the pubs without meeting him. He was everywhere and I was doing my best for him to never notice me. This part was easy. He was always surrounded by hordes of hysterical people brandishing phones and Sharpies and busy grinning like an idiot while he was being hugged, touched, harassed until he was exhausted. Then, he would collapse on a stool and drink, meet with friends. By that time, I was already gone. The less I was being around him, the better it was. I didn’t want to be considered as a stalker. And I absolutely didn’t care about him. That was what I was telling myself. It was a lie of course. It had been true at first but fate had decided that our paths should meet again and again until he finally remarked my presence around him. I was a young man in her twenties, too clever for this world, too different for this society. I was just a face in the crowd moving around him. He was fascinating me, this man always surrounded by people who was bearing the weight of a loneliness no one could understand. Yet I never made a movement toward him and he never saw me. Until I found myself stuck in one of his hysterical crowds. With the release of a new album came the hard task of promoting it with interviews on radio and television shows. There, he would answer the same questions over and over again and the reporters would use all the possible approaches to have him opening up on his personal life. Which he never did. He never said a word about his private life, didn’t have any social media account and paparazzi never caught him. He was either excellent at avoiding them or they were respectful. The first option was most likely the good one. The question he was asked the most surely was: “who are you thinking about when you write these love songs?” Apparently, you had to have someone in mind when you were writing about love. It added a personal and authentical dimension. He always lied to that question, always pretended that it was one girl or another he had met in his life. The truth was, when he was singing The Turn of the Earth live in those shows, his mind was drifting toward that one girl he met in a pub one day. He hadn’t seen her again after that night and the barman had refused to tell him her name and if she was a regular customer of the place. Because he was a rock star didn’t mean he could have all he wanted when he wanted it. This time however, it wasn’t a celebrity whim like he could have had. He was pretty wise on that point. He had to find her by himself. Hard to do when you only had the image of her in you head, an image of this magnificent young woman sitting at the counter of a bar and reading the Times. This vision of her had shaken him to the core the night he walked into this pub and his heart was fluttering just at the thought of her. His team had already found him distraught these past few weeks and wondered where he was spending all of his nights when he didn’t have any obligation to be anywhere or to do anything. He never gave them an answer. This part of his life had nothing to do with his music and unless they were proving to be true friends. He was always on his guards with people. Especially since he was famous. With her, he had the feeling he wouldn’t have to protect himself against the gossips and betrayals. She was different. He could feel it. Plus, she was the only woman he knew that had been resisting him. She had totally ignored him last time. She was intriguing him. He wanted to know more about her and for that, he needed to find her. Which was the hardest part of the challenge his heart was imposing to him. His trail of thoughts was interrupted by the screams of the crowd waiting outside the building of the radio station he was interviewed in. The news that he was here had come rather quickly and the people without any obligation of work or family. Some were even sacrificing that just for him. They were sacrificing what he was seeking to get noticed and then, forgotten by him. He was famous. For them, it meant that he had all he wished for but his life was mostly travelling, answering questions, meeting fans. That last part and composing new music was what he preferred in this life. Touring was fantastic. All those cities, all those landscapes, all those different people. He had spent some amazing moments in the greatest cities of Europe, but they now all seemed dull because he had visited them alone. He grinned wildly at the crowd who screamed louder when he stepped out of the building. Immediately, phones and pens and goodies were insistently held out to him. A routine. Pictures, autographs. He satisfied as many fans as he could… Until his eyes caught a familiar blonde head whose confused and scared expression harmed him more any physical wound. She had been caught in the stampede and had no way out. He had come out and everyone had moved forward and made her a prisoner of their collective enthusiasm. He apologised to the fans around him evasively and moved through the crowd quickly. He didn’t hear them calling out for him. He was too focused on the lost young woman among them. No one seemed to see her distress except him. His hand finally grasped hers, she looked up at him, surprised to see him there, and he said the first thing that came to his mind: “Run!” He found me among all these persons. Usually I am unnoticed. An ordinary woman living in the Estates. I wasn’t even here for him. I was just passing by, coming back from a trip to the Royal Mail. A package to drop. I was walking back to the bookshop when this crowd suddenly surrounded me. They heckled me as if I was a simple rag doll. I couldn’t do anything. The sudden rush had petrified me. I am avoiding these kinds of situation. I hate being taken by surprise. But I refuse to believe that people could be so selfish, so mean not to remark my fear to be trampled on. I am an optimistic, compassionate person. I see the best in everyone and that day, the best of them was gone to the sewers. For them I was another fan trying to get my way to him when I only was a victim of their madness. There was no way out for me. They were pushing and pushing and pushing me toward the reason that had let them here: him. He came out of nowhere and grabbed my hand – the tips of his fingers were calloused but his palm was warm and soft. My eyes locked on the bluest eyes I have ever seen in this life. His lips moved and before I could figure out that he was saying, he was dragging me out of the crowd and running like crazy in the streets of London. He clearly had no idea where he was going but it was amusing him. He was running and grinning like an idiot, like a kid dragging a toy around. I detected the bookshop and pushed him inside. We hid behind one of the high shelves covered with books of all sizes and colours. Several minutes passed by before I realised how close I was standing to him. I quickly moved away and walked to the counter. The lights were off, the sign on the door indicated that the shop was momentarily closed. I didn’t say anything, just cleaned my counter, turned the lights on and turned the sign over. The shop was open again. When I dared looking up at him again, he hadn’t moved. Maybe was he waiting under the crowd was gone for good. I had seen some girls running past the bookshop. They most likely were looking for him. I gave him a nod to thank him and gestured to him that he could go. No one was waiting for him to come out of the shadows to jump on him. I didn’t see him leave the place but he did, only to come back around lunch time. The camera above the front door showed him coming in with what looked like his signature outfit – a jumper and a battered leather jacket, black pants and boots – and an acoustic guitar slung on his shoulder. I was in the back room fixing a website I created a while ago and found myself observing his image on the CCTV. The Doctor didn’t move for a moment. His heart had never beat so hard and so fast. This situation was unexpected. To be fair, he hadn’t had any idea of where he was taking her once they were out of the crowd. He was just running, happy to have found her again, happy to have her frail warm hand in his. Then, she took the lead and pushed him in this bookshop, pushed him behind a shelve stood there. He was stuck between her and the mountain of books behind him. His heart was hammering in his chest. He never felt so embarrassed to be this close to a woman but this one was fascinating. She moved away, moved around like she owned the place – which he found out later, she did – and he could only observe her and trying to get back his composure. Who was she? How could she make him feel so vulnerable? “Now we’re in trouble.” He chuckled but she was ignoring him again. She was reading the documents spread on the counter, tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. She waved him away but he wasn’t gonna leave that easily now that he had found her again, now she had been thrown on his way again. There was a reason why she was coming back to him like this. “Escaping from a crowd of fans? Easy.” He snapped his fingers. No reaction from her. He frowned. “Right, then, I’ll be off. Unless…” Was she really ignoring him again after he saved her ass out there? Women were all the same. Ungrateful to him. Was it his physical appearance? He had always had issues with it on a personal level. Now, people loved him the way he was. Years of struggle and he was rewarded like this. Fame had the power to corrupt minds, to turn the freak in the most handsome rocker ever seen. And no one ever saw the real him hidden underneath, the man in constant pain. “Okay. See you around.” An idea sprouted in his mind and he retained the name and the hours of the bookshop and rushed to his own place. He came back to the shop. She was nowhere to be seen in this part of the shop but it didn’t matter. He started playing. “I have met a girl / In a pub one night / Sat there she ignored me / I am so impressive / She should have acknowledged me / But her stubborn ignorance / Pushed me to the edge / And my heart can’t help / But cry a name I didn’t know. / How could I catch her attention / If my name, if my presence / Isn’t enough to win her heart? / You think fame brings / All you want in your life / People and cars and buildings / But it won’t / One day you’ll met her / The girl of the pub / And she’ll make you / Feel like you’re the smallest / And meaningless person / Of this world. / See I’m the Doctor / An international rock star / The last of a family / A survivor traveling alone / Hoping to meet / The girl in the pub again.” This was a stupid song with no rhymes, something he had written and composed in a couple minutes to court her, to win her heart. Yet, it proved to be useless since she didn’t show up once he was done with his song. When she finally appeared, she didn’t notice him – how could she not see the tall man standing in the middle of her shop? She was carrying a pile of books, books that she painstakingly added on the shelves according to their genre. She came back to the counter, put one of them down and pushed it toward him without a word. It was a book about the lack of confidence and how to deal with it. How could she have guessed? Intrigued he paid for the book and left the place, with his tail between his legs.

GIVE A TITLE TO YOUR NEW SECTION “Do you want to go home?”

I don’t know if he had figured out my situation at that moment, but I pretty much had grasped his personality according to his reaction when I gave him a copy of Daring Greatly by Brené Brown. Behind his airs, behind the rock star, there is a broken human too used to get what he wants from a snap of his fingers. His interest in me was strange both to him and to me and if it had to go farther, this famous side of him wasn’t what I wanted to see. If he wanted anything from me, he would have to show himself as he really was instead of hiding behind his fame. The character he was playing was of no interest. So was his job, his songs, his money and everything related to the Doctor. It was quite a challenge, but he seemed to be a man who liked to be challenged. Things too easy were boring, and maybe was I a challenge for him too. Now he knew where I was working, probably had found my name too. Yet, he didn’t come to harass me every day. I was almost disappointed not to see him insisting by coming in every day, but he was a busy man. I thought he had tossed the book in the corner of the huge property I supposed he had bought when he became famous and moved on to something else. It was a prejudice I had about him though I remembered clearly the intelligence burning in his eyes along with the feeling of solitude and suffering. The Doctor was just a shell to protect the real man from the blows of society. It was almost a schizophrenic behaviour. Something we all do in society. He was the famous Doctor, the rock star always grinning, always happy, when he was out… But I wanted to see the man he was when he was coming home and taking the costume off. I did get to see this man. I was lucky enough, trustworthy enough for him to unveil his real personality to me. I have considered it as an extreme mark of his affection for me. Beside the trust, he had this undeniable attraction toward me. But I was unaware of it until we met again in my usual pub. He was in before me. There were two pints before him and he casually pushed one toward me, as if he had always known that I would come that night. He was reading a book he hadn’t bought in my bookshop. Probably something he had been given or had found on Amazon. It was placed in such a way that I couldn’t see what it was. It wasn’t a problem. I had brought my own book. The latest release of an author writing exceptional thrillers full of mystery, adventures and adrenaline. All the contrary of my quiet little life. He had had no idea that she was gonna come. It wasn’t the first night he was sitting here with two beers waiting for her to come through the door. The barman and the customers were used to see him around now and no one was going overexcited to see him here. Not anymore. He could be himself and enjoy the book he was reading and the beers he had ordered in peace. All it had taken for him to find this peace was to notice a young woman sat alone at the counter of a pub one night. The penny dropped. He had found what he was looking for but he couldn’t have it as easily as he had had all the other things. He had had to remember how ordinary people were living. He had had to find his way back on Earth after drifting in the higher circles of society and thinking he was better than anyone. He wasn’t. And all it took was a girl in a pub. He knew it was her before she sat on the stool beside him. He had seen her reflection in the mirror above the perfect line of alcohol bottles in the back of the barman. He was wearing earplugs. Nothing would totally plug the noises totally but it was working well enough. He pushed the pint toward her, his eyes still on the book he was reading, his brain registering the words it was seeing. He sipped his beer, read silently. Her eyes were on him at first. He could feel her interrogative gaze on him before she looked away, took a sip of the beer he had offered her and focused on her own book. She was so absorbed by her reading that she almost startled when he put a gentle hand on her shoulder to get her attention. She marked her page and looked at him for the first time since he grabbed her hand and told her to run. “I’m the Doctor, hello,” he signed. Past the surprise of him signing to her instead of using spoken words like he previously had, there was the frustration of him not giving her a real name and introducing himself with his alias. She rolled her eyes and her annoyance was clear in the question she asked in return. “Doctor who?” The smile he gave her did nothing to clear up her annoyance. It actually made it worse. He glanced at his book and back at her. Deep sigh. He raised his hands, about to sign something. Glanced at his book again. He was unsure of what he was doing. “My name is J-A-M-E-S N-O-B-L-E.” “Mine is Rose. Rose Tyler.” “Nice to meet you, Rose.” He was awful at signing apparently. The look on her face and the teeth sunk in her bottom lip was telling him that she was holding back a laugh. He could only sign the basic things and he wasn’t even sure to have spell his own and real name right. “Don’t laugh,” he tried, offended. Which resulted in her giving him the most beautiful he had ever seen. Her tongue was poking out and the malicious spark in her eyes swept him off his feet. He was screwed. It had taken him months to have to proper talk with this woman and here she was finally looking at him and smiling at him. They used a paper and a pen to communicate the rest of the night. He wasn’t good enough at signing to hold a full conversation. He was revealing things about him he never had before but telling all of these to her was easy. He would have said she had a compassionate ear if it wasn’t uncalled for. But he had never felt this well with anyone else before. He was sure of it; she was the one for him. “The pub is gonna close, up for a walk?” The fact that she was offering to prolong this evening meant the world for him and he gladly accepted the offer. He was getting a bit hungry too. They had been ‘talking’ and drinking for a while now. It was night outside. They wouldn’t find much to eat. “I want chips,” she added. “Me too.” “You can pay.” “Why me?” “What sort of date are you?” She was joking. His heart was racing. Did she mean those words? Was he really a date to her? He wished. From the bottom of his heart, he wished she would say yes if he was asking her the question. He felt like a teenager discovering the power of love for the first time and not daring to ask her out. “Chips are on me,” she wrote. “But the beers are on you.” The Doctor grinned wildly, dropped a couple notes on the counter and held a hand out to her. His book was in his jacket’s pocket, hers was in her purse with the pen and paper they had used all evening. She took his hand without a hesitation and they walked out of the pub hand in hand. They found a chippy and Rose insisted in paying the chips. They ended up on a bench, eating from the same container, enjoying the quiet winter night. He gave her his jacket because she was cold and when she grew tired, he allowed her to lean on him. It was nice to be himself for once. “Do you wanna go home?” He had taken me back home. He was a real gentleman, never tried to take advantage of me. He just held my hand and made sure his large and heavy jacket was well wrapped around me. He was reluctant to leave when we reached my building so we prolonged the talk for a little bit. Did he kiss me goodnight after that? Yes. A chaste kiss on the cheek from him. A soft kiss on his lips from me. The first of a series.

GIVE A TITLE TO YOUR NEW SECTION “Come here, I think you need a Doctor.”

Through his eyes, I discovered a world of novelty, I discovered countries I’ve only dreamt of. He had confided to me that all of the trips he had done before meant nothing before me. It wasn’t a bad life to be a rock star, but it was better with two. Better to share it with the person he loved. And that person happened to be me, the deaf girl in the pub.

The girl in the pub © | 2019 | Tous droits réservés.

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