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avengersassemble-fics · 3 years

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Stark Legacy

part 01/?? "the only person"

master list

word count 4.3k

an: :3 welcome to a new fic bc idk how to control myself

WARNING: this part does depict alcohol usage, and mentions of other substances a character uses to cope (though nothing is explicitly mentioned).

“An unemployment and housing crisis skyrockets to higher levels as people still struggle to adjust and accommodate the population we had years ago. Streets are littered with people seeking hope-”

“According to world economists, the surge in loan denials is leading to an unprecedented end, leaving the experts scrambling for a way to get the economy back on track, also claiming that the Global Repatriation Council may be asking for too much-”

“Protests break out across Switzerland as support for the group known as the Flag Smashers rises, with the Global Repatriation Council denying any comment on the matter, as well as refusing to comment on the rumours that the newly titled Captain America is investigating the matter-”

“What can we expect from Stark Industries now that Tony Stark is no longer with us? Pepper Potts, while having led the company in a positive direction prior to the Blip, has had no new developments over the last six months. With these newfound challenges the world is facing we’re left to wonder.. Who is going to step up as the ingenious mind behind new innovation? Will the youngest Stark continue on in the steps of father and brother, or are we seeing the end of the Stark Legacy?”

Click.

Silence filled the blue colored cottage that was tucked away at the end of the street in Ransdorp. Though dim and lifeless inside the cottage, outside the sun shined while birds chirped away happily and the sound of children playing echoed through the air. But inside the cottage, all alone, someone stood and tossed a television remote back onto the couch that was once occupied. They shed the blanket that had been wrapped around their shoulders all night while listening to all the different news reports, and entering a small bedroom and dressed in the dark. It was a Wednesday afternoon, and after shuffling through the cottage to grab a few things, the back doors were pushed and locked open, and a breeze blew through the house.

You squinted as you put a sun hat on and oversized sunglasses, overlooking the green oasis you had worked on every day for the last six months. Pushing away the thoughts of what the news had been saying, you stepped down onto the wooden patio that lined the back door and carried a hefty packed bag with you to the garden you had planted. You set the bag down and kneeled into the soft grass, and got to work on picking on fresh vegetables to use for your dinner later. Lucky for you, the soil was perfect here.

So… How have the last six months been for you?

Well the garden was a distraction your neighbor had suggested after finally catching you one day while throwing out a bag full of alcohol bottles you had consumed. You could see her take a second glance over your disheveled appearance, but she ignored it for the most part (which thankfully she did, you were a little sick of people telling you how to feel at the time). Naturally, instead of working through your problems, you distracted yourself from them.

But in all honesty… It’s been hard. Maybe it was selfish of you to think so, but you felt like you had been dealt one of the shittiest hands from the universe. The pressure from the world after… After Tony’s death was suffocating. As more paparazzi followed you around, the worse that anxiety had gotten. With that newfound attention, you had also been summoned by the United States government to attest for your time as a HYDRA agent. Lucky for you, in some way, they dropped any serious charges due to your restraint under the program, but sentenced you to weekly therapy sessions (since SHIELD had denied to disclose your mental capabilities). To your knowledge, Bucky Barnes had been offered a similar deal. The therapy lasted all of a month before you… Negotiated your way out of it, and returned to this safe place.

You drowned yourself in drinks and other activities after leaving New York, which in turn made your black-out episodes reappear, which had become evident as the photographed wall in your second bedroom started to be crossed out fast. You couldn’t help but twitch at the thought, and steered clear of that subject. But as of five months ago, you were all but cut off from all things Avengers.

Everyone had gone their own separate ways for the most part. Wanda was off the radar, Sam had gone and gotten a contract with the Air Force, Clint got his family back, Rhodey was some top notch Air Force guy (you didn’t really know what he was up to nowadays), Thor was gone offworld, Scott was making up for lost time with his family, and Bucky… Well, you didn’t know much about that situation either. Sam had tried to reach out after everything, but in one of your drunken states you threw your phone in the Weersloot river. You didn’t need a reminder of that day, or those few weeks even.

You never played the message Happy had given you from Tony. You never had the courage to do so, and you had it tucked away in your room safe and sound. Honestly? You were starting to think you never would be ready to hear what Tony had to say to you before he died. You just couldn’t bear to hear it, never would… Because if he even mentioned someone’s name you didn’t know how you would react.

When you started to think about Steve, you picked up a drink to take your mind off it. You had yet to come to terms with him leaving, because it still hurt like the day it happened.

Losing Tony was the worst thing that could’ve happened in your eyes. He was your family, though Pepper and Morgan had become your family too, Tony was the last piece of your family you could hold onto. The last shred to the past you fought so hard to remember and cherish, and now him and that part of you was gone. He was your everything. He always would be.

But Steve? Losing Steve wasn’t something you had ever even considered. While Tony was your soul, Steve was your heart. Despite everything you two had been through, the feelings hurt and the years it took to make it back together, Steve always had your heart. He was the man you wanted to fall asleep with and wake up to. He was the man you talked about growing old with, what life would be like if he gave up the Captain America mantle, he was supposed to be your future...

And then he stayed in the past, and left you here confused. Hurt. Alone.

You lost the two people you had left in the world. Your heart and your soul. And it was the most devastating blow you had ever felt… Everyday you wondered how someone comes back from something like that, if it was even possible.

Your thoughts were interrupted when a hefty softball landed in a thud in your garden and smushed one of your little tomatoes. You blinked at the sight before grabbing the ball and looking up to see the familiar short boy next door pulling himself up on the fence that separated your yard from his, and you grabbed a rag from your bag and wiped the softball off.

“Je vernielt in zijn eentje mijn tuin, weet je,” (You’re single-handedly ruining my garden, you know) you said to the boy and looked up at him through your sunglasses.

“Vergeef mij,” (Forgive me) he said and rested his head on his hands to watch you finish wiping his ball off. “Mijn vader wilde niet met mij spelen” (My dad wouldn’t play with me).

You stopped wiping for a moment and could see the sad look in the kids face. You smiled softly and stood, making your way over to the fence and handing him his ball back, though his expression didn’t change.

“Vraag het me de volgende keer dat je wilt spelen, oké?” (Next time you want to play, come ask me, okay?) You told him, and the smile reappeared on his face and he gave you a nod. You ruffled his hair as he jumped back off the fence and played once again. You went back to your bag, now full with vegetables, and picked it up to head back inside. You had a sweet pasta recipe to try tonight, and you think what you selected should work great-

You stopped in your tracks right before the back door. You lowered your sunglasses and lowered your gaze to the ground as you tried to focus on the sound in the air, the shift in the environment. You may have been slightly hungover but the presence was not hard to miss. You straightened your stance and gripped your sunglasses in your fist.

“Sam?” You called out. At first there wasn’t any rustling, but after a few moments you heard your back gate unlock and creak open, and that’s when you could hear the extra set of footsteps. You slowly turned around to face who had finally tracked you down, and were met with Sam Wilson… And Bucky Barnes in tow.

“What are you doing here?” You more so asked Sam. The pair glanced at one another and Bucky nodded his head at his partner in crime (God, you could just tell they were up to something) and Sam shoved his hands into the jacket he had been wearing.

“We came to see you, check in on how you’re doing,” Sam said. You chuckled a bit, and shook your head.

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” you called him out. “What are you really doing here?”

“We need your help,” Bucky said. You bit your tongue and looked them over, maybe just a little curious as to what was going on. Just a little. “We stumbled onto something that I think you may have some information on.”

You hummed to yourself for a moment, thinking it over. Truthfully, the last thing you needed was whatever this was. So you shook your head and shrugged your shoulders. “I’m afraid I can’t help, but thanks for thinking of me.”

You turned your back on them and stepped up a couple steps into your house, and was all but ready to close the door to the world and close yourself off from Sam and Bucky, but Bucky took a step forward.

“There’s more super soldiers out there,” Bucky said in a serious tone. You stopped in your tracks, gripping onto your door for a few moments before looking back out to the pair. Bucky was watching you intently, in a stare you had only seen on him once before (which you didn’t want to recount at the moment). There was movement near the fence, and your eyes darted there to see the neighbor boy peeping his head over to see what was going on. When his gaze met yours, and you gave him “the look” he disappeared just as quickly as he appeared, and you looked back at the pair standing in your yard and against all better judgement, motioned your head behind you. Understanding your cue, Sam led the way inside, and you shut the door quickly behind Bucky.

You moved around the burly super soldier and brushed past Sam to set your bag of veggies in your kitchen. You had to take a moment to compose yourself before facing the duo who had been watching you intently. “Okay.. Go on. What do you mean there’s more super soldiers?”

Sam grabbed something from his pocket, a phone it looked like, and pulled something up before handing you the device. You hesitantly took it and looked down at the phone, where a video began playing of the recent Gasel Bank heist. You watched as someone got beaten to the ground, but what was astonishing was the sheer strength the masked person showed. Captivated, you carried the device into the living room and plopped down into the cushions of your sofa and watched more footage, this time up close from what you could guess were Dumb and Dumber who moved to hover over you.

“We were hoping you might know something,” Sam said. You handed his phone back to him which he graciously accepted, and you tapped your fingers together in thought before looking over at Bucky.

“What makes you think I know anything?” You asked. Bucky seemed to huff in annoyance at your questioning him, in all honesty you just wanted to hear him say it.

“You and I both know what went into the replication of that serum, your program especially,” Bucky said. You felt a lump form at the back of your throat and you casted your eyes downward. “You were still there after me… Did they perfect Stark’s serum?”

You looked back up at his question, and you held his gaze for a moment. You couldn’t believe this was how your day was turning, and you were pissed that he of all people were bringing up your past, like you volunteered for any of that shit. You lightly bounced your leg as you fought to remember what you had known.

“HYDRA had been unsuccessful in using my father’s formula of the serum again, even after you managed to escape their hold,” you started. You swallowed the lump in the back of your throat and leaned back into the couch, averting your gaze from Bucky to the floor as you searched your memory. “They brought in a scientist, but it wasn’t my op, and it was on a need to know basis. The only reason we knew they started the research again was they started taking people from the Phantom program to test the serum on.”

“Phantom program?” Sam asked.

“That’s what they called us,” you mumbled. “All of us were deemed dead so… It was only fitting.”

“Did the scientist perfect the serum?” Bucky asked. You shrugged your shoulders and met his look again.

“Didn’t think so,” you answered honestly. “So if there’s serum still out there, he has to be your guy. Though I can say I didn’t see any kind of sign of that activity when working with SHIELD.”

“But it’s a start,” Sam nodded and Bucky looked his way. The two started sharing odd glances, and you watched in confusion. Sam suddenly looked your way and motioned around. “Think you could spare some time and do this mission with us?”

“Sam-” Bucky began to say as a warning, but you chuckled a bit which made him stop.

“I don’t do this anymore,” you told them as you motioned between them.

“Come on (Y/N),” Sam tried to reason as you stood up and walked your way back into the kitchen and opened up a cabinet in search of tonight’s bottle of wine to go with dinner. “I get that you’re going through it, I really do, but-”

Just as you managed to select the perfect medium-bodied red wine, Sam had come up beside you and took the bottle out of your hand. “This isn’t going to help you.”

“Yeah Sam and what is?” You asked while crossing your arms. “Because right now the only thing that would help me out is to see my brother again but guess what! It’s not going to fucking happen! It’s just me, here, and all by myself. All by myself…”

Your words trailed off as a heaviness grew in your chest. The atmosphere in the room was a lot more stuffy, and you would rather curl up and disappear then let Sam (and Bucky) see you cry. But here you fucking were, with Sam seeing the tears build up in your eyes and the look he gave you, you wanted to be mad but the only thing that you could seem to feel was just sad. You blinked back the feeling and took a glance back at Bucky, who stood in your living room and averted his gaze. You looked back at Sam, and put on the best front you could.

“You’re welcome to stay for the night, someone can take the bed in my room and someone can take the couch, but tomorrow? We go our separate ways again,” you said in a low tone. Sam’s look at you was… Disappointment. Before the sentiment could settle on your already guilty conscience you turned around and grabbed your keys and a peacoat and stopped at the front door. “Help yourselves to whatever you need.”

With that, you pulled the door open and just as swiftly shut behind you. The cottage walls shook for a moment before settling to a silence inside. Sam looked down at the bottle in his hand and set it back onto the counter before looking Bucky’s way, who still looked annoyed.

“What?” Bucky defensively asked when he noticed Sam’s stare. Sam shook his head at him and pushed the wine bottle to the back of the counter.

“You pushed that too hard,” Sam said, to which Bucky scoffed.

“Me? You’re the one who asked her to join us which, by the way, where did that come from?” Bucky questioned as Sam came back to the living room and sat down on the couch. Sam leaned forward with his arms on his legs and rubbed his hands together.

“Take a look around Robo-cop,” Sam emphasized and Bucky let out an annoyed sigh. “You’re seeing what I’m seeing, right?”

Bucky looked around at your surroundings. He wouldn’t peg it as chaotic, but he also couldn’t pin it as put together. There were personal touches here and there, but it didn’t feel like you belonged here. Bucky wasn’t blind to what was going on here, but he also didn’t see how that pertained to what Sam was suggesting.

“Sam, we came for some information, we got it, so why don’t you tell me what you’re trying to say,” Bucky replied. Sam rolled his eyes and leaned back into the cushions.

“We let her come here, by herself, even knowing how devastated she was after Tony died,” Sam explained. Bucky’s eyes darted to the floor at the memory of him following you out to that shed the day of Tony’s funeral, and the empty expression your eyes held. “Hell, we don’t even know how she felt about Steve. We should’ve been here for this. And that makes us shitty friends.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t say we’re friends-”

“Oh I’m sorry, who's the one that said she owed you a favor?” Sam asked and Bucky shrugged his shoulders.

“I did, but that doesn’t mean-”

“Nah ah,” Sam cut him off and Bucky rolled his eyes. “If you two owe one another favors, then your friends.”

“That’s sound logic, Sam,” Bucky sarcastically said.

You tossed your glass bottle of whatever the hell it was you drank earlier into a trash can on your way back home. You pulled your keys out of your jacket pocket and jingled them around until you found your house key and hipped quietly. Your cottage was just in view and all the lights were out. You grumbled to yourself as you neared, forced to remember what had happened earlier in the day (and boy did you work hard to forget that Sam and bucky were at your lace haha). You stumbled up the two steps to your door and used the wall to steady yourself, before quietly shoving your key into the door and pushed the door open.

It took a second to adjust to the environment, but the whole cottage was pitch black, besides whatever light from the moon managed to filter in. You carefully walked around the couch and glanced down at who occupied it, and when you saw Sam peacefully asleep you then looked at the door to your room and shuddered at the fact Bucky must’ve taken residence in there. You huffed a bit, and pulled a spare blanket out of a basket and moved to the back door. When you finally got outside and shut the door to not disturb your guest you tossed your blanket onto the patio sofa you had and kicked your shoes off.

After shedding yourself of your peacoat and plopping down on the hard cushions, you inwardly cursed the two men inside. You were doing just fine before their arrival, you had a schedule of self loathing and drinking then sleeping that they were interrupting. You just weren’t looking forward to the repercussions of tonight’s sleep. You laid back across the sofa and looked up at the sky, though nothing was there anymore. Or at least there wasn’t anything you could see.

Let’s be honest here. The reason you had turned to drinking was because of the fuzzy feeling you got after awhile. Your mind got to drift to something else besides the memories of your past, like… what to drink next, or in this case, is that a star or an airplane? It made the moment more simple, it made you forget who you were until you woke up again. That didn’t mean you didn’t resent yourself for your actions, but you just added that to the list of reasons why your endgame was the best resolution. You just weren’t ready to tell anyone what that endgame was.

Your gate creaked and you tilted your head to look in that direction. You could barely make out the figure as they neared, Bucky’s face became more clear. You looked back up to the sky and shook your head a bit to yourself. Bucky came to a stop close to you, and sighed a bit.

“You should go inside,” He said quietly.

“You should just leave me alone,” you quipped back to him. Though you couldn’t see it, Bucky rolled his eyes at your drunken response. You suddenly felt a lot more sober, and you turned your head to face him. “You had no right, you know.”

“What are you talking about?” Bucky asked and you huffed.

“You had no right to bring up the Phantom program. I didn’t tell anyone about that, not even Tony,” you admitted to him. Bucky bit his tongue and looked up at the sky for a moment to collect himself. “I didn’t want anyone to go digging into the extent of that.”

“I didn’t know,” Bucky admitted. You blinked at him as he caught your gaze again. “Look… I’m sorry.”

You fell silent before letting out a small sigh and adjusting yourself to be a little more comfortable, your head finally starting to feel dizzy again. But Bucky wasn’t ready to settle this, he shifted his weight and turned to face you.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Bucky asked. Your eyes fluttered back open and you looked over at him. He had taken a step closer, and hovered over you, and you raised a brow.

“What are you talking about?” You asked him this time.

“The drinking,” Bucky pointed out. You huffed and turned your head in the opposite direction into the cushions, and Bucky rolled his eyes. “It’s not going to help you know.”

“Yeah and how would you know?” You asked and looked back at him. Bucky leaned down to get in your face, and you tried to move back from him.

“Because I’m probably the only person who really knows what’s going on in your head.”

You bit your tongue, and Bucky backed off. In a bit of a daze, you plopped back down onto the cushions and pulled the blanket you brought out up to your chin. Bucky rolled his eyes at you shutting him down, and he moved to the door to go inside. The sooner the morning came and Sam and he could leave, the better for him.

“I never blamed you, you know,” you said in a light voice. Bucky stopped in his tracks and looked over at you. Your eyes were closed, and you were breathing evenly. Bucky retracted his hand from the door knob and took a couple steps closer. He needed to hear that again.

“What did you say?” He asked. You stirred a bit, but didn’t answer him. Carefully, Bucky used his gloved hand to touch your shoulder, and give you a small shake. When you still didn’t say anything, Bucky sighed and looked between the door and you and cursed in his head.

Bucky carefully slid an arm under your shoulders, and then hooked his other under your legs. He hoisted you up into his arms and into his chest, and your head rolled into his arm. Bucky shook his head at it and carefully brought you back inside, and past the couch, and pushed your room door open with his foot. Bucky sat himself on the edge of your bed and balanced you in his lap with one arm, and pulled your blankets open with a free hand. When he finally got you into your own bed, he took the blanket you had outside from you and tossed it onto his shoulder, and pulled the blankets on the bed onto you. Bucky stood from your bed, and before leaving the room he took a final glance at you as you stirred just slightly.

Bucky closed your door, and walked back towards the couch and settled himself onto the floor. As his back met the floor, he couldn’t help but wonder if you meant what you said, about not blaming him for what happened. One thing he did know was he meant what he said. Bucky stared at the door to the second room in the house, and he shook his head.

If there was one person he truly wanted to make amends with, it was you. After all, you were on his list of names.

- - - - - - - - - -

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withkun · 4 years

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visage | j. jaehyun

genre: enemies to lovers... kinda? with some fluff and smut :) word count: 5.2k pairing: reader x jaehyun warnings: graphic hetersexual sex (oral, penetration, etc), swearing, excessive world building summary: Your first day of work at your first real job began terribly. You hadn’t got enough sleep, you could barely eat your breakfast, and you managed to get lost on the way. Soon, you discover you’re working alongside serial charmer Jaehyun Jung and that he will stop at nothing to be the best.

a/n: this is a mess im sorry lmao. i somehow managed to use jaehyun 86 times in here ... girl...

You felt completely, utterly, and hopelessly lost – all on the first day of your first real job. That morning, you awoke two hours earlier than you had to. If you had a choice, you would’ve face planted into your pillow and died right there. However, your anxiety decided against it. And with that extra time, you managed to pull off an extended morning routine. A warm, long shower. Ten-step skincare routine. Eggs, toast, and black tea. Despite your attempts to regain your confidence, all was lost as you circled the office building.

The orientation guide you received hadn’t helped much. All you knew was that you should report to building B. Whichever building that may have been, you had no idea. Your feet grew weary and you cursed yourself for wearing heels. You rounded the corner of the office park for your fourth or fifth lap, only to be cut off by an overdressed jackass. Before you could sidestep him and continue your hopeless journey, the perpetrator turned to face you.

“Oh, no. He’s hot,” you thought to yourself, praying your cheeks weren’t stained red. Despite wearing a well-tailored gray suit, you realized that he was likely your same age. He took in your slightly disheveled appearance, probably noting your ruffled hair and askew skirt.

He tilted his head in the direction of the closest building. “Are you here for orientation, too?”

Of course he had to be in your hiring class. Twenty-two and already looking like he owned the building. You nodded, then turned on your heel to rush inside. Trailing your steps, you heard him chuckle lowly.

You finally joined the rest of the new hires in the security lobby, managing to fix your appearance before you reached the door. To your gratitude, they dressed similarly to you. Just plain business casual. The boy you met earlier definitely stood out, making the others wonder if they hadn’t dressed well enough.

Within ten minutes, you all received security badges and shuffled into your orientation room. You preferred the back, whereas the business boy sat directly in the front. Rolling your eyes, you realized his game. You met plenty of people like him in college, ruthless climbers that destroyed everything in their paths. He knew he had to make more than an entrance, he had to make an impression.

You grew to dislike him more and more as your training sessions progressed over the course of two weeks. An insufferable know it all, answering all the questions managers prompted. Volunteering for everything first, unafraid. You on the other hand, did not find his actions necessary. He left a glowing impression, yes, but you found it meaningless. Like hell the trainers cared about how well you completed your general training. Maybe he wanted everyone to relate this to his future performance, for you to watch out for his dominance. For you to fear him. Worst of all, he saw you struggle with the most simplistic task on your first day.

He easily made friends within the group, as there were plenty others like him. All recent college graduates, fantastic resumes, and working for one of the best companies in the field. You, on the other hand, did not have such luck. Your social circle consisted of yourself and another quiet trainee, a quiet finance major named Doyoung. The two of you kept to yourselves and became the outliers of the group, so much to the extent that you sat alone for training sessions.

Two weeks came and passed, and you finally received your team assignments. You found your name on the bulletin, right next to Jaehyun Jung’s. Of course. It had to be this way.

Jaehyun approached the bulletin board aside you, and grinned as he found his name. “Looks like we’re working together,” he commented, still wearing the same expression. You realized why he appeared so happy. People like Jaehyun would not recognize someone like you as a threat. You barely appeared on his radar.

You grit your teeth and forced a smile. “I look forward to it.”

With your whorish luck, you found that your desks were right next to each other and you’d be essentially working back to back. You already hated being watched, and Jaehyun could easily look over his shoulder and see you struggling to keep up.

Jaehyun settled into his seat with ease, already look at home in his new desk. You sat gingerly on your office chair, gathering your surroundings.

Your desks sat right in the view of your department lead’s office, likely to Jaehyun’s excitement.

Being on the same team, you and Jaehyun had the rest of your training sessions together. Just you two and your manager. He always seemed to grasp the new concepts immediately while you merely pretended and made notes to ask Doyoung later.

They assigned your first project sometime later, one that you and Jaehyun would have to complete jointly. You dreaded it, knowing he would try to take over the project.

That first morning, Jaehyun was already at his desk. You glanced at your watch, nearly scoffing as you read off 6:59. Despite having the ability to make his own schedule, Jaehyun chose to arrive before seven. You collapsed into your desk chair, jealousy eyeing Jaehyun’s full coffee mug. He already had time to help himself to coffee. Typical.

“Morning,” he greeted, fully awake and energized. “I set up a meeting for 8 today to start working on the project.”

You powered on your desktop, mentally groaning at the hundreds of emails present in your mailbox. “That’s…fine,” you murmured, praying that you could address all your client emails in a measly hour without the aid of caffeine.

He glanced behind him to see you hunched over and lifelessly typing. “I’ll make that 9.”

And yet again, you were caught in a moment of weakness. Great. “Yeah, okay.”

Those two hours passed slowly, but at least you managed to prepare a cup of tea. By 8:55, Jaehyun already settled into the conference room and wrote diagnostics on the whiteboard. All while you still went through your emails.

You joined him, a fresh cup of tea in one hand and your laptop in another. “All right, I see that you’ve already set up the basics,” you said monotonously, nodding towards the whiteboard. “I conjured up some of my own ideas as well.” Without prompt, you rose and added a few bullet points under Jaehyun’s “approaches” section. You scanned his ideas, noting that they weren’t bad, but not what you had in mind.

“I see,” Jaehyun commented, still standing. He put his hands on his hips, carefully mulling over the options. “They’re quite good.”

You felt ashamed of your satisfaction for his response, but also surprise. He sounded genuine enough, but you knew that his type always had some angle to work. Prodding you board at your second option, you decided, “I think this is our best bet.”

Jaehyun remained quiet for a moment, eyes flickering across the board. “What if we combined a couple?” he inquired. He pointed to your idea, then his. “It would streamline the process more holistically.”

“Holistically??” you thought. You hadn’t heard that word since high school English class. It was so painfully pretentious to you.

He went on to explain how it would work, but you were still caught up on the pure obnoxiousness of the word “holistically.”

“Y/N,” Jaehyun tried. “Hello?”

You blinked, finally hearing your name. “Sorry, I was thinking about how this will impact everything.” A lie, Jaehyun didn’t need to know how long you caught yourself on a single word.

“So, what do you think?” Jaehyun leaned against the wall, eyes searching yours.

Oh god, now you were thinking about his eyes. Pushing those thoughts aside, you answered, “So long as we put a heavy emphasis on my part, I think it’ll work.”

He agreed and you went on, mostly working quietly. You avoided asking him questions, even when you became desperate. Jaehyun, meanwhile, tried to engage you in small talk.

“Where did you go to college?” he asked, to which you gave him a one-word response.

“Are you from here?”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“What was your major?”

You barely answered, but he failed to get the point until he finally inquired to something relevant. “Did I do something that offended you?”

You drew in a breath, fumbling for the right words. If you were honest with him, you wouldn’t have to put on a façade. If you lied, you wouldn’t get on his bad side. Even pretty boys like him could be ruthless if given the opportunity and reason. You saw it before, you knew you would see it all over again.

“No,” you decided, pulling on a tight-lipped smile. “I just want to do really well on this.”

That last part, at least, wasn’t a lie. You felt that you had to prove yourself, especially against the Jaehyuns of the world. If only briefly, you saw his relief. His face relaxed a little, and his shoulders lost some tension. “Me too,” he agreed.

The following month went on similarly. You completed the project quietly, only interjecting to make corrections and provide your input. When you finally reached the day of your presentation, your nerves caught you once more. You woke up far too early and arrived at the office at the same time as Jaehyun. A new record.

If he was on edge, you couldn’t tell. Outwardly, he appeared the same. Nothing could take away his quiet glow of confidence. Jaehyun worked, unbothered, sipping his coffee almost casually.

“Are you ready?”

Jaehyun turned to face you. “Never been readier.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if readier is a word.”

With a shrug and smile, Jaehyun returned to his work again. Odd, considering he was always chatty.

You attempted to mimic him, to work without doubts and review your notes. But your hands shook as you tried to type. You knew you couldn’t focus until you finished the presentation.

Although you hadn’t noticed him leave, you saw him approach your desk. Jaehyun gingerly placed a styrofoam cup on your desk. Your eyes met his. “Jaehyun?”

“Just some tea before the presentation,” he explained. “I noticed you like black tea with honey.”

You brought the cup to your lips, delighted to find that it was the perfect temperature. For once, you didn’t care about his motive. “Thanks,” you said. And you meant it.

He gave you wink. “We’ll be great today.”

You hoped he was right.

The presentation crept up on you suddenly, much faster than you had anticipated. Jaehyun found you outside the conference room, where you managers and team lead had already gathered, pacing and talking to yourself.

“Are you okay?”

He caught you again, there was no use in denying the truth. “Absolutely not.”

Jaehyun laughed lowly and put a hand on your shoulder. A part of you wanted to shrug it off, but you felt a strange comfort. “I’m nervous, too.”

You almost burst out laughing. Like hell he was nervous. But his concession, fake or real, made you feel some comfort.

Having reeled yourself in, you entered the conference room together.

And together, you made it through the presentation. You both had prepared excessively, ready to answer any question thoroughly. Management applauded your efforts, declaring that you had exceeded expectations. They rewarded you with a gift-card to a nearby steakhouse and urged you to celebrate together. Hastily, you attempted to invite the managers, only to be declined. They had work to complete in the office.

Your cheeks lit up red with embarrassment, but you agreed to make reservations for that night.

Jaehyun offered a ride over, to which you vehemently wanted to reject. Before the eyes of your manager, you took him up. You assured yourself that he was still the same person you knew. Nothing different. Nothing could’ve changed that. Seeing his car certainly helped. You never knew any recent college graduates that drove a Tesla, and yet…

Once you arrived at the restaurant, you quickly ordered yourself a martini. You didn’t care which one, so long as it had plenty of alcohol. Jaehyun simply ordered a beer, quoting driver safety commercials. “Just this,” he promised you, then proposed a toast. “We pulled it off.”

You drank your martini with gusto, and then prompted the waiter for another one. Jaehyun watched as you became drunk, consistently grinning as began to ramble. “You know I hate you, right?”

Your question caught him off guard. “You hate me?”

With a smile, you brought the martini glass to your lips. “You’re too perfect and try too hard.” His expression fell, but you forged on. For months, he made you feel inadequate and beyond anxious. You befuddled mind justified this bluntness. “Every day feels like a goddamn competition.”

Jaehyun reached across the table, taking your hand. “I had no idea,” he admitted quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s whatever. You’re no different from most in our hiring class.”

With a sigh, Jaehyun took an elongated sip from his beer. “They’re not all bad.”

Despite the alcohol coursing its way through your system, you realized that a few strands of hair fell out of place. He hunched over, brows furrowed, lost in thought. It wasn’t the first time you saw that either. Just out of your periphery vision, you saw him buried in work while you finished the project.

Jaehyun swept his hands through his hair. The way he bit his lip made you wonder if he was holding himself back. And the waiter arrived with your meals before you could muster a response.

You sat in silence, Jaehyun haphazardly cutting his steak. He refused to look at you.

As you absentmindedly twirled your pasta onto your fork, Jaehyun finally spoke up. “I’m not perfect, and you’re not easy to work with either.”

“Excuse me?” You couldn’t conceal your anger at this sentiment.

Jaehyun met your gaze, eyes determined. “You had to control every part of the project. Had everything your way.”

That, you had heard before. And you absolutely hated it. “We did well on the project because of me,” you said defensively. “Lest you forget.”

The two of you went on bickering like this, angrily finishing your meals and drinks. The waiter hesitantly approached your table, and you demanded the check. The sooner you could leave, the better.

Once paid, you managed to not storm out of the restaurant. But you wore a disgruntled expression and balled your fists.

You reached your work parking lot, and instantly ejected yourself from the Tesla. It wasn’t until you reached your car, however, that you realized that you didn’t have your keys. Probably left it in the passenger seat.

Angrily, you stomped back to Jaehyun’s space where he twirled the keys around his index finger. “I’m not letting you drive. You drank too much.”

You gritted your teeth. “I sobered up plenty.”

Jaehyun approached you and held a square device in front of him. “Well, then you can prove it.”

You yanked the breathalyzer from him, not bothering to ask why he had it. Made sense for someone like him. With a groan, you realized he was right. 0.1.

Not wanting to admit it, you continued your enraged march to the nearby retention pond where a lone bench sat in front of the water. You crossed your arms, and bitterly stared at the water from there.

Jaehyun followed you, leaning onto the back of the bench. “I didn’t know this place existed.”

You laughed bitterly. “It’s because you never leave your desk. You’re always working. Always networking. Always trying something.”

To your surprise, Jaehyun appeared to calm down from earlier. He regained his flawless demeanor. “It takes me a lot longer to do things.”

Well that, that took you off guard. “Doing extra work,” you said, making a weak attempt to correct him.

“No.” After a long pause, he asked, “Do you really hate me?”

His tone made you feel some guilt. “Don’t you hate me?” you shot back, remembering his comments at the restaurant.

“I don’t,” he affirmed. “I never have.”

You considered that. In your college career, you made plenty of enemies with the same behavior. Those times, you ensured yourself, were valid. Those classmates never completed their work and simply didn’t care about the performance. You had been left with ten-page papers to complete on your own. You turned poorly written trash into works professors recommended for publishing. But you knew Jaehyun wasn’t the same as them at least.

Behind Jaehyun, the sun had just begun to set. The sky lit up with orange and pink hues. “I shouldn’t have taken over the project,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. A part of you hoped he wouldn’t hear.

“Oh,” Jaehyun said softly.

You gave him a warning expression. “Do not let that get to your head. You came into this job with an agenda.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N,” Jaehyun groaned. “Where the hell are you getting these ideas from?”

You couldn’t bear to look at him, imagining the smug look on his face as he basically told you that you were crazy. “People like you are always ruthlessly ambitious.”

“And what am I like, then?” Jaehyun mused.

Without skipping a beat, you explained, “Attractive, charming, overcompensating.”

You could feel his eyes boring into the back of your head, and just knew his smug smile made another appearance. He chuckled and said, “Sounds like you.”

“Funny,” you mocked. “Last time I checked; I’m only overcompensating less outwardly.”

He joined you and took a seat on the bench, stretching his arm over the top of the bench. Only inches away from being on your shoulders. Disgusting. “You’re wrong.”

Without prompt, he suggested a game of twenty questions. Jaehyun clarified his intent, stating that perhaps you misunderstood each other. Sensing your doubt, he held his pinky finger out and searched your eyes. You hesitantly connected your pinkies and brought your thumb to your lips, both promising to be truthful.

“Do you think I’m good at my job?” you inquired first, eyes cast out to the sparkling pond.

Almost instantaneously, Jaehyun firmly answered, “Yes.” You concealed your satisfaction, biting your lip to prevent you to smile. “Do you think I’m good at my job?”

You replied almost as quickly, “Of course I do.”

The questions got progressively less serious, some among the likes of favorite movies and which books you were currently reading. Somehow, you felt relaxed. Jaehyun didn’t feel like competition, but rather just a normal stupid boy. He let you have another try at the breathalyzer, and you felt relief in the .05 reading before you. At the same time, you wanted to remain beside him.

“I don’t think I hate you anymore,” you conceded, accepting your words as truth. “If you stop coming off as perfect all the time.

He let out a laugh, a sweet sound of joy and relief. “Hey, you come off as perfect too. You were just quiet around me.” With a devilish grin, Jaehyun ventured, “Is it because you think I’m attractive?”

You glared at him from the corner of your eye. “Are you trying so hard because you find me attractive?” you challenged him.

Jaehyun turned his body to face you. “That depends on whether it’s working.”

Now games like these you didn't mind as much. A harmless game of chicken, testing your limits. Work had its difficulties, but boys? Easy. You cupped his cheek, amazed at how soft his skin felt to the touch. Your eyes met, beckoning the other to try something. "So, this is why you asked me if I was dating anyone?" you dared. "Under the guise of getting to know me and making small talk. I thought someone as perfect as you would have more...subtlety." You let the last word slip out of your mouth slowly. Registering his surprise, you continued, “I don’t forget things easily, hence why I’ve been able to hate you so long.”

Jaehyun grinned cockily, placing your hand on his chest. You felt defined muscles straining against his button-down. Already, you figured his body would match the rest of his veneer. “You really have nerve being out here like this,” Jaehyun overserved, gesturing the office park a short walk away.

“Oh, uncomfortable here?” you drawled playfully, then took his hand. “I know somewhere you may like.”

You felt a wave of confidence wash over you, and you realized this what you assumed Jaehyun had always felt. Then you decided that you’d make it up to him one way or another. He followed you, only letting your hands detach as you got closer to the infamous “B” building you worked in. You noted his nervousness and gave him a reassuring smile. “Trust me,” you urged.

Entering through the side door, you managed to avoid security. Your entry would appear on a log, but you could easily bristle over it and say that you forgot your laptop at your desk. Most of your coworkers avoided the stairs, so you led Jaehyun away from the elevator. Though, you had forgotten that you were wearing heels. You struggled up the steps by the second flight, clinging onto the railing for dear life. Jaehyun noted this, but said nothing as he swept you into his arms.

“I wish you did on the first floor,” you joked. “Or maybe I could’ve just taken them off.”

Jaehyun refused to let you down until you reached the fourth floor. Whenever you found yourself in a vulnerable state, you hid out beside the decommissioned wing. The unused nursing room featured its own bathroom and a small futon. Having visited the location so often, you knew that the cleaning staff rarely came by. You asked once and discovered that they only visit at the beginning of the month. No one else ever came by in your experience. It appeared that only you knew about this place, and now Jaehyun. “This is where you run away to,” he deciphered. “I always thought it was the café.”

“I prefer privacy.” You leaned against the door as Jaehyun took in his surroundings. “And I wanted to go somewhere you couldn’t find me.”

He fell back onto the futon, looking at you in awe. “Just when I think I know you.”

You fumbled for the lock behind you until you heard a distinct click. “Do you remember when you first met me? When I was so stupid and got lost?”

Jaehyun rose, appearing concerned. “I didn’t know. I just thought you were cute.”

He cornered you against the door, body close enough to feel your shaky breath. All that time just hating him when you could’ve been seducing him for the purpose of hindering his goals and ultimately find the truth much sooner. You wasted so much time, held so much resentment. In front of you, you saw a seemingly perfect boy study your movements, waiting. A position you would have never imagined yourself mere hours before. Yet, you saw it all in hindsight and perhaps always knew the truth. It was then that you decided that you didn’t want to play games anymore or mull over an agenda.

Jaehyun angled his chin downwards, gazing into your eyes with a mix of emotions. Excitement, fear, desire. You kissed him, gently and slowly. More carefully, you wanted to know him in this way. Feel the way his lips moved against yours, his increasing heart rate. He rested his hands on your hips, gripping them as if he couldn’t support himself without them. Soon after, you wrapped your arms around his neck and gradually deepened the kiss. These moments you shared felt like high school, so unassuming and simple.

You pulled away, resting your forehead on his. You caught your breath and entangled your fingers with his. “I’m sorry,” you murmured.

He idled, drawing kisses down your cheek and neck. “For what?” Jaehyun ventured.

“For not knowing you until now, and maybe still not knowing you.”

With his thumb, he drew circles on the back of your hand. “Do you want to know more?” he asked, his voice quietly sultry.

“Yes,” you whispered. With this admission, Jaehyun’s butterfly kisses became more daunting. He crashed his lips upon yours and held you closer. Your tongues soon met, messier and carelessly. Feeling daring, you ran your hand under his shirt, digging your fingernails against his abs. A bit lower, and you realized he was straining against his slacks.

Jaehyun bucked under your touch, gasping against your lips. You gripped his clothed cock with more certainty than before and Jaehyun fumbled to reach your breast. Still against the door, you held each other. “We’re lucky this room is soundproof,” you commented, noting your precarious position.

Not waiting for his response, you quickly undid Jaehyun’s belt followed by his zipper. You tugged his pants to his ankles and brought your attention to boxer-brief covered erection as you supported yourself on your knees. Laying a flat tongue against his balls, you drew a line from shaft to tip. He sucked in a sharp breath and watched you with hungry eyes as you finally removed the final layer of clothing.

His erection sprung upwards, precum already forming. Zealously, you took the tip into your mouth and ran your tongue over the wet slit. You leaned back, seeing Jaehyun absolutely desperate as he stood over you. Continuing, you wet his dick with sloppy kisses. You wanted him to have everything, feel every part of your mouth. With one hand on the base, you craned your neck to take in more of him from the tip. You used your whole body to rock your mouth further down his dick. When he reached the back of your throat, you gagged slightly but didn’t care. Gently at first, he began to rock his hips. Becoming restless, Jaehyun held your head and pushed his erection further down your throat with messy thrusts. You looked at him with wide eyes, conveying for him to continue.

Jaehyun instead picked you up as if you weighed nothing and placed you precariously on the couch. While naked from the waist down, you were still fully clothed. Wasting no time, Jaehyun ripped your blouse off - buttons and all flying wildly around the room. He pulled your bra cup down to reveal a nipple, to which he immediately pinched between his fingers. Already excited, he removed your black jeans and panties. Jaehyun lowered himself to your glistening pussy and brought a digit to his mouth before pushing it inside you. The penetration left you unwinding as he added another finger. He curled his fingers upwards, each push and pull hitting your g-spot. As you thrashed, he held you down with a firm hand, especially after he began sucking on your clit. In mere minutes, he brought you to your orgasm. You wished you had the words to describe the way you felt that immense pleasure, but nothing would ever be sufficient.

Breathlessly you beckoned Jaehyun to the bathroom. “I have an IUD,” you confirmed. With your new found trust, you knew Jaehyun wouldn’t even attempt to sleep with you if he had an STD. There, you gazed at him from the mirror. Watched him approach you and run his hands up and down your body. He positioned one leg so that you were half propped over the sink and still standing on the other. Jaehyun’s dick teased your aching pussy as he dragged it from your folds to your clit to your entrance. Both facing the mirror, your eyes locked as Jaehyun pushed himself fully in you. You both drew in strained breaths. Once he ensured that you adjusted, he fucked you. Neither of you ever watched yourselves have sex, but you were even more turned on watching Jaehyun clutch onto your tit and whisper obscenities in your ear.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he growled, burying himself deeper in you.

Jaehyun slowed his pace, suddenly lifting you and pushing you against the wall. He supported your entire weight as he fucked you there.

“I’m going to ride you,” you said breathily, to which Jaehyun obliged immediately. He sat up straight on the futon, leading you to his cock once more. In that position, you put yourself to work. You bounced atop his dick, only stopping to grind your clit against his pelvis. You came unexpectedly, the sensation getting fucked and stimulating your clit becoming too much for you. Jaehyun and you both were surprised when a stream of liquid sprung out of you.

With his mouth agape, Jaehyun looked at you. “You can squirt?”

Before that moment, you would’ve answered that no, you couldn’t squirt since you never had. Until then. He registered your shock and turned you so that your back rested against the futon. Jaehyun hovered over you, hair askew and face reddened. You imagined that you appeared the same. He kissed you, breathing “I don’t know how I got so lucky,” on your lips.

Jaehyun unraveled quickly in this position, and you urged him to come on your tits. Following his orgasm, you attempted to clean yourselves up in the bathroom. “Everything smells like sex,” you observed, frivilously spraying Febreeze everywhere you could. Between futon cushions. The door handle, Jaehyun’s general direction. You didn’t realize you were shirtless until you saw a mess of buttons on the floor.

A weak solution, but Jaehyun offered you his suit jacket. You’d have to walk out of the building crossing your arms and praying a nipple wouldn’t escape, but something. Once the room was clean, Jaehyun and you fine-tuned your own appearances in the bathroom. Neither of you looked refined or polished, but human.

“I want more,” you admitted.

At the same time, Jaehyun asked, “Can I buy you dinner?”

You shook your head. This version of Jaehyun, the one messily fucking you in an office nursing room, you preferred. “I just want to spend time with you.”

Jaehyun smiled and agreed.

You left the room separately as to not arouse any suspicion. Jaehyun met you outside your car, once more carelessly spinning your keys. The sun had set by that time, leaving you both shrouded in moonlight. Despite the sun’s absence the air remained warm and inviting. “We’re going stargazing,” you decided. “After we change.”

Jaehyun arrived at the agreed upon park first, sporting a loose shirt and Adidas joggers. You never had seen him dressed so casually. He already set up a blanket at the top of the hill and rested on his back.

You wore a nearly identical outfit, and went without makeup. Normally, you hated it when your partners saw you without anything on. But you wanted Jaehyun to see this part of you, too. Despite living in a well-populated city, the stars appeared very clearly that night alongside a waxing crescent moon.

“Do you think the managers set us up?” Jaehyun pondered, wrapping an arm around your waist as you joined him.

“Without a doubt. And we’ll probably have to tell them about this at some point.”

And he kissed you again. How many times that night, you lost count. Looking at him, the image of the boy you met months ago flashed before your eyes. The one with the suit, the dashing smile, and dough-like dimples. You, a nervous wreck getting in her own way.

You fell asleep on his shoulder that night, head buried in his neck as he snored quietly.

#jaehyun #jung jaehyun #nct #nct 127 #nct u #jaehyun fic #jung jaehyun fic #nct fic #nct fluff #nct smut #jaehyun smut #jaehyun writing #jaehyun scenario #my writing

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Of Muffins, Coffee and Other Miracles - Pt.2

Of Coffee, Brownies and-- Frack

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader Word count: 2210

Type: Two-shot, reader insert

Warnings: swearing, tons of fluff and cheeky/cute Daredevil/Matt

Summary: You’re a secretary at Landman and Zack, having an office on the same floor as the interns. You notice one of them (which you might and might not have a crush on) seems down lately, so you decide to cheer him up the only way you can come up with. You bake muffins; right after your life is saved by a cheeky vigilante.

Part 1

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“Wild night out?” a male voice made you snap from your dozing and you straightened in your chair with a startle.

Oh shit. Oh fuck, you were so fired.

You look up to the man who addressed you, relieved it was only Foggy – one of the interns. He wouldn’t report you, right?

“Uhm… not sure I would call it wild, but… strange for sure.” Not every night you get to be kissed by a vigilante, even if only on your temple.

“It wasn’t drugs, right? Because drugs are bad,” he whispered, looking around for anyone who could hear. You smiled at him tiredly.

“I know. Not… that kind of strange. What can I do for you… Foggy, right?”

“Yes!” he confirmed cheerfully, until his smile fell. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we were introduced. You’re…” he eyed the name on your desk, repeating it dutifully.

“That’s me,” you confirmed with a nod. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh! Right. My friend, Matt, he’s interning with me here, I’m sure you saw him around. He’s… well, blind.” Oh, I did see him around. “Usually, he gets the copies of the files in braille, but today… whoever is the good soul doing it for him forgot or something and… I have no idea where to find a braille printer here and you seem to know your way around…? And you also look like you’re not gonna fire me for asking.”

You found yourself smiling in the presence of the cheerful man. “Only if you promise not to tell anyone that I was basically sleeping.”

“Deal.”

“Thanks. You have the file? I can print it. Honestly, anyone who knows where to find that printer or how to use it wouldn’t have the authority to fire you. Just send it to me and I’ll drop it in your… your…” you stuttered, unsure how to finish that sentence.

“You can say it. It’s a closet.”

“It is, isn’t it? But which one?” you played dumb, because… reasons. You shouldn’t have known where they were, you didn’t need it. Why would you? Yeah, I’m sooo subtle…

“Oh, the one down the hall.”

“Okay. Just e-mail me the file number and I’ll deliver.”

“Really? You’re amazing.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you laughed nervously. Amazing. You didn’t think – scratch that, you were sure your boss never called you that, and you were saving his life on daily basis; he wouldn’t even sign a paper unless you handed him the pen.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong…” Foggy pronounced, pointing at you. Then he seemed to realize something. “You said not many people know where to find that printer?”

You shrugged. “Not really, I guess. It’s on the fourth floor, but it’s next to impossible to go there unnoticed by people guarding printers and they are bitch to talk to, so if you ever need anything just tell me, I’ll do it for you. I’m sure your life is enough depressing in that… cubicle.”

“Hm… okay, thanks a lot!” He spun on his heels, walking out.

Weird.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

Dropping off the files in the right closet, you were confronted with… your crush. You might have not realized it before, but… yeah. You were confronted by Matt Murdock himself and you were suddenly very sure you had a crush on this man. Crap.

The thing was… he was his typical self, which meant… really charming. He stood up from his desk when thanking you, learning your name, shaking your hand. He gave you one of the nicest smile you had ever seen, his grip firm, but gentle; you just stuttered when saying ‘nice to meet you’, stumbling out as quickly as possible, shaking your head over your own inability to communicate like a normal person.

One thing you noticed about Matt that day though was that he had a rather angrily looking gash next to his right eyebrow – whether he ran into a door or something else happened, you didn’t know. But you were glad you had baked the previous night, secretly leaving your backup lunch to ease the blind’s man pain.

You were stuck hungry because of that; you couldn’t make yourself regret it.

You were a hopeless case.

And a liar on top of that, because you had said it wasn’t ‘like that’ just few nights before. Perfect.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

It was raining that night, so you didn’t leave a snack for the vigilante who apparently kissed crime victim’s temples. Maybe the next night.

Or never, because he would avoid you forever, realizing that you were as far from his Lois Lane as you could be. Which was probably a good thing.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

You looked up from the screen at the sound of someone knocking. It was unusual – the door was always open, so people normally just waltzed in.

Matt freaking Murdock was standing in that open door, holding his walking cane and a cup holder in one hand, his other hand on the glassy door. You blinked in surprise at the sight. And god, he was such a sight for your sore eyes…

“Anyone in?” he asked carefully and you fought the urge to face-palm. He couldn’t see you watching him – which might be a good thing, considering you were shamelessly staring.

“Yes! Hi, Matt. What can I do for you? Someone forgot to print case files again?” you wondered when you gathered yourself.

He smiled, turning your direction, walking towards your desk.

“Uhm, no. No, I came to… say thank you.”

Did you hit your head in the shower this morning?

“Uhm. You’re welcome, it really wasn’t a big deal.“ You mentally praised yourself for so many coherent sentences. His smile only grew wider.

“Here. Uhm, I was told you were a bit tired yesterday, so I figured you might appreciate a coffee. One’s black with sugar, which should have ‘B’ on the cup, and the other one is vanilla latté with ‘V’. I had no idea which you might like.” He held out the holder for you to choose.

You had definitely hit your head. What the hell? Or rather… what the heaven?

“I… you really didn’t have to do that, Matt. That’s… thank you, but… it was just a file. Anyone would do that.”

You found the V cup, taking it hesitantly as if it could explode in your hand.

“Well, for one, that’s not true, especially here, and… it’s not just for the file,” he offered with a cute smile.

It wasn’t the smile that sent your heart racing. Well, it was, but also the thing he was implying— did he somehow figure out you were his… secret muffin-maker? Well, shit.

“I’m not sure-“

“People by the printers on the fourth floor are next to impossible to sneak by – that’s your words, not mine. Next to impossible, but not completely. That suggests you know how to do it. I imagine the bosses wouldn’t be happy finding out you’re using the printer to write notes for miserable blind interns, so sneaking under radar it is.”

You pressed your lips together, squeezing your eyes shut, cursing mentally. And out loud. “Frack.”

“So, you know. Thank you. The muffins were delicious. They did make my day much better,” Matt assured you and an unfairly warm feeling spread in your chest. Maybe it wasn’t such a disaster he found out.

“There’s no way I’m finding a way to prove you wrong, is there?” you sighed. “You should reconsider your career choices, you would make a great detective. Glad it worked. I know that muffins can’t fix all the problems of the world, but occasionally, they can save the mood.”

“Not wrong there. I... uhm… the coffee is the best thank you I’m capable of. I hope my debt is paid.”

Well. That made more sense. “You didn’t have to-“

“That came out wrong. I wanted to say thank you, to erase a potential debt, because I was…”

You tilted your head to side, waiting what brilliant end that sentence would have. For once you weren’t the one who apparently didn’t know what to say.

“I was wondering if you would want to go for a coffee sometime? Or a dinner, maybe? Not as a thank you.”

Throw the incapability to speak up back on me, why don’t you. You blinked in utter shock, your knees buckling a little. Come again? “Not… not as thank you. You’re… you’re sure of that?”

“Hundred percent positive.”

You were certain you heard wrong. Which was easily possible given how loud your pulse was in your ears.

“Oh. Uhm… yeah. Okay. Sure. Just… just to be clear, since it’s not a thank you-“

“It’s a date. If you want it to be,” he added quickly, his confidence slightly shaken.

“If I want it to be…” you muttered under your breath incredulously. “Is the sky blue?”

“You tell me, it’s been a while since I’ve seen it last time,” he replied, grinning. He was so not supposed to hear that. Dammit.

“Oh my—… yeah, last time I checked it was still blue.”

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” He shoved his hand into his pocket, pulling out a phone, holding in out for you. “Would you enter your number in it, please? First name’s enough. I’ll call you.”

You finally set your cup down and took the phone from his hand, still not quite believing this was happening. Your fingers brushed his lightly when doing so, nearly sending you into a cardiac arrest. Jesus.

“Sure. You don’t have a distaste for black coffee right? Because I can totally switch the cups, I haven’t even sipped mine yet,” you mumbled as you were entering your number.

He laughed. “I like black coffee.”

“Noted. And number saved.”

You returned the phone to his extended hand. “Thanks. Dinner or coffee? I would offer a lunch, but the muffins appeared during lunch-breaks, which suggests you’re not leaving the office.”

“Detective, seriously. Dinner?” you asked, unsure.

“Dinner it is.”

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

Dinner it was. And an amazing one. Matt picked the restaurant wisely – nice, but not too expensive, because neither of you were exactly rich (not that it mattered, because Matt was a gentleman who wouldn’t let the woman pay for the food, definitely not on the first date) and that way you could have a dessert without remorse; financial one anyway.

Matt saying that your muffins were better after eating a chocolate brownie was just the icing on the cake of how… sweet he was. He was even more wonderful than you had thought, but despite becoming a lawyer and working between the sharks, he was a down-to-earth person. Not playing any… leagues. And you had fun. His sense of humour was refreshing and he was apparently more than capable of smiling and laughing as cheerfully as his friend. He was a freaking sunshine and you found yourself drawn to the warmth and light like to a magnet.

He walked you home, looking almost disappointed that the night was ending, which was a sentiment you shared wholeheartedly.

“If I wasn’t so full, I would invite you upstairs. I have muffins,” you whispered as his hand travelled up your arm, wavering in the crook of your neck and he leaned closer to you.

The corners of his lips rose a little higher at your note and you were honestly regretting he was still wearing his dark red-tinged glasses. You would like to see his eyes to complete the picture.

“Well, I would say I’m sorry, but I’m actually glad. I… I really enjoyed tonight. I wouldn’t want to screw up.”

You could tell he hesitated, his thumb caressing your neck in silent question. You leaned in as well. ”I can’t really imagine you screwing it up, Matt, no matter what you would do. Unless you‘d wake me up now.”

“Is that a permission?” he breathed out an inch from your lips.

“It’s a plea.”

He met your lips softly, retreating too soon.

“Please, don’t wake me up,” you mumbled, not sure you wanted him to hear it.

“This is a goodnight kiss,” he reassured you lowly, kissing you again, caressing your lower lip and making your knees unfairly weak. “We’ll work our way up to a good morning one. If you’d like.”

You brought your hand to the back of his neck, keeping him close just in case he was getting any ideas and you returned the kiss, nibbling on his lips just a little. He let out a content sigh, his fingers tangling in your hair, his body shifting closer to yours.

“Probably sooner than later,” he mumbled against your mouth, making you smile and hum in agreement. You added ‘excellent kisser’ to the mental list you were making about him. Hot. Sweet. Gentle. Funny. Smart. Ray of sunshine. Gorgeous smile. Likes black coffee and my muffins. Never should stop kissing me.

He met your lips for the last time, withdrawing with a smile, his thumb running over your jaw.

“Goodnight,” you whispered, licking your lips to savour the taste of his own.

He pecked your temple lightly, wishing you the same.

‘Familiar,’ you added to your mental list and your heart, fluttering until the moment, started hammering in your chest wildly. Familiar voice, familiar smile, familiar gestures-

No, no, no, no, no. That was ridiculous. You were projecting again, you were-

“Clark?” you chocked out, perfectly aware of how stupid it was, expecting Matt to shoot you a puzzled look and ask you about your possible ex or something.

Except Matt did no such thing. Instead, he froze and said just one word that meant you were somehow, in some impossible way, right.

“Frack.”

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

Matt Murdock Masterlist

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

It’s silly and I’m grinning when writing it and posting it and I’m most definitely sure that this cliff-hanger is the end and it’s all up to you to wonder what happened next ;)

Thank you for reading :-*

#marvel #fanfiction #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfiction #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil imagine #mcu #reader insert #marvel fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock #of muffins coffee and other miracles #anika ann

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thecaptainhelm · 4 years

Text

Good Love

ch.2 is here, it’s technically an interlude, which is bad bc it’s so early. i never claimed to be good at this, so here’s Alfred being worried for almost two thousand words

Enjoy!

That day, it was one of the rare, bright mornings in Gotham, where the sky was overcast but the sun managed to shine through, sending dappled sunlight into the eastern wing of Wayne Manor. Alfred Pennyworth had been up before sunrise as he had been for decades, carrying out his more mundane tasks in service to the Waynes, though it would have been preferred that they learned to rely on him for other things.

Normally he wouldn’t complain quite so much, the stress from it was cumbersome in his old age, but the situation had been truly aggravating this past month.

The youngest master of the house had begun acting...strange. Strange in a way that genuinely worried both himself and Bruce. Damian was by no means the best at communication, but he did at least check in from time to time, and they saw him for when they needed extra hands on deck for their ‘night shift’ as they’d begun to call it.

He didn’t contact anyone for an entire week, dropping off radar, and the only reason anyone knew was that Dr. Norfey had left a message with his emergency contacts, asking him to set up a date to reschedule his bi-monthly appointments.

Everyone called Damian in a rush, and he said he was fine, but it was strange because Damian never did anything without a reason, ever. He was literally raised to make carefully planned decisions, and that idea was only reinforced under their care. They’d had to find out because he missed his therapy session as if he didn’t worry Alfred enough.

For the past three years, he had been in the care of a reputable therapist, competent, and more importantly, safe for Damian. They specialized in mentally and emotionally abused patients and unearthing childhood trauma. The success rate of Dr. Norfey was slightly above average, as most patients either leave positive reviews or receive recommendations for more intensive help. After arguing for days on end with the entire family, he finally relented and scheduled a two-hour session. After that, he went about his routine as usual.

Nothing extreme had happened, thank God, but there did seem to be a positive response. He met with Dr. Norfey again after two weeks, glaring at anyone who would look too long, daring them to speak up. It wasn’t long before it became the new normal. The young master gradually lost his scowl for something gentler, appearing relaxed when home, though he went back to it as soon as he left the premises. Certainly, he had his good days and his bad days, but he seemed all the more certain of himself as an individual. Truly, he didn’t think Damian could make him anymore proud.

Then, he met a young lady.

Her name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a petite young woman with kind eyes and a bright smile set upon a youthful face. She was polite, witty, with no small amount of talent and charm, and an endless amount of patience for Alfred’s brood. She was a breath of fresh air, especially for the suffocated Damian.

An investigation into her profile revealed that she was a rising star of the cutthroat fashion realm, her resume boasting high-profile clientele and lucrative business contracts. She hadn’t had anything notorious to her name, no criminal record, no illegal transactions, almost normal to the point of suspicion. After a while though, they managed to dig up something insidious.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had connections to a terrorist.

Six years prior, a supervillain appeared in Paris for the first time, holding the city, it’s citizens, and tourists hostage for what would be the better part of three years. During that period, Ms. Dupain-Cheng would then begin to date Adrien Agreste, and then break up with him a year later. She and her entire family disappeared soon after. A month later, Hawkmoth was arrested, along with his accomplice Mayura, and seventeen years old son, Adrien Agreste. It didn’t take a detective to figure out what happened.

Looking at the classified investigation reports uncovered more of the truth, that Gabriel had the idea to use the miraculous to revive his wife. He planned to sacrifice his son’s girlfriend, a girl his wife would never know about by using Adrien to make the wish. In the end, he never even got his hands on the miraculous. Marinette had started to become uncomfortable with Gabriel’s strange questions and talked to Ladybug and Chat Noir.

When she told them of what types of questions she was asked, they grew concerned and sent her and her family to a safe house outside of Paris. From there, with police assistance, evidence was gathered and a warrant was issued. Gabriel was confident until Supergirl arrived, using her x-ray vision on the property and revealing the hidden lair beneath the building. He was quickly apprehended without fuss, and it was case closed. Adrien had been arrested as well, but he was quickly acquitted when evidence showed that he wasn’t involved in any way.

After that was the media firestorm, and the Dupain-Chengs weren’t spared. However, Ms. Dupain-Cheng was skilled as she showed her hand, and it was a revolution. Out from the woodwork poured celebrity after celebrity, vouching for her and her family.

She managed to turn her pariah status into that of a martyr in the eyes of the public because that was the bible-sworn truth. She’d rose to the occasion and exceeded all expectations. After that, she faded from the media for two years before returning as a critically acclaimed designer. The Bats gave her a grace period and soon they too began to gradually lower their guard.

And young master Damian appeared to be quite smitten as he decided to open his heart as well.

He watched his young master attempt to curry favor with the young lady, awkwardly wooing her to their family’s amusement. He saw her cautiously reciprocate, and he saw their tentative courtship, budding and fragile, blossom into something beautiful and delicate. He saw them weather the tough days and work hard for their relationship. He saw Damian start to let himself be happy without restraint. Soon a year had passed, then two, and then three. In the fourth year, master Bruce started to hint to Alfred to update the family registry, as joyful as he was.

So when he was sent word that Damian’s belongings would be shipped home, he hoped that Ms. Marinette would be there with him. Perhaps misfortune had come to their apartment and most of the young lady’s things had to be sent to storage, but it wasn’t meant to be. The message he sent left no room for misunderstandings.

I’m sending my things back to the manor. I’ll be home by the end of the week.

The young master shall be returning alone, then.

Alfred had long since received the delivery and moved everything back to its original place, save for items that were acquired after he’d moved out. Now the day had come for Damian to arrive home. The moment was both exactly and not at all what he’d expected.

On an unusually sunny morning, about an hour before noon, the one and only Alfred Pennyworth opened the doors to the sight of the youngest master, Damian.

His appearance was neat, shoulders back, and posture straight as a rod. There was not a hair out of place. However, his eyes…

It had been a while since he’s seen his eyes look so strained, it was clear that he had not slept well. This was when he knew that Ms. Marinette would not be returning for a visit for some time

“Welcome back, Master Damian,” he said.

“Hello, Alfred.” A rigid nod. “I have returned.”

“So it appears,” he opened the doors and waved Damian in. “I have your favorite pot of tea on. Would you care for a cup in the dining room or the parlor?”

“Neither. I’ll have some, but I’d like to rest for a while.” Damian stepped gingerly through the door, as though he was indeed tired. Normally, he wouldn’t let such an obvious wound slide, but he knew better to pressure a man trapped in a corner.

“Very well, young master,” Alfred shut the door and turned to accompany Damian through the main hall, a step behind.

“You’ll find your belongings in your old bedroom with the facilities fully stocked, as per usual. Please be sure to take care of your wound and to reschedule your session with Dr. Norfey before tomorrow.”

“Yes, thank you, Alfred.” A pause. Damian had never been one for conversation, but he would usually ask what was going on in the manor without wasting time.

“As your father will be out late at the office along with your brothers, dinner will be held an hour earlier to accommodate their sudden absence.”

A noncommittal hum came from the young man in front of him and Alfred nearly furrowed his brow in worry.

All too soon they arrived and Damian turned back to the Wayne family butler, stoic.

“Thank you, Alfred,” he nodded slightly. “I’ll be out for dinner, but I am feeling a bit hungry after my drive. “

“Say no more,” Alfred gave him a placid smile. “I’ve already set out the tea and snacks on your desk. I shall return for the platter after you have finished.”

Damian finally let loose a tiny smirk. “Thank you, Alfred.”

“Of course, sir.” A courteous bow was the last Damian saw of the butler as he entered and closed the door to his room.

Alfred walked back towards the kitchen to check on his pot roast, feeling relieved. Damian wasn’t at his best, that much was evident, but that didn’t mean he was at his worst. At least not yet. However, there was still hope, because while it seemed like he had regressed in his current state, his tired eyes said that he had some sort of revelation.

Alfred began to prepare Damian’s portion, wondering what could have happened between the two for him to return alone, looking as though he would rather be anywhere else? The list of options was short but severe. He could have told her any number of secrets about his past, family history, current vigilante occupation, and while he had faith in Ms. Marinette, the young woman was by no means a saint.

It could have also been that she broke up with Damian, and it might be his extreme bias, but he couldn’t fathom why. Yes, this was Damian they were talking about, but he’d been in therapy for close to eight years now and was making steady progress as he continued to root out his trauma and slowly but surely heal. However, he did not know how their relationship was faring, as both proved to be rather private. Though, the young miss was more shy than possessive.

Damian had over ten years of trauma, all throughout his early childhood, and suddenly he was becoming an adult. A confused, depressed, and unstable child had become trapped in the body and mind of an adult, and while everyone helped to the best they could, all while trying to help themselves, it wasn’t enough. It never would be, not for this battle.

Alfred sighed, feeling his years. He pulled dinner out to rest and started to set the table, just in time for the proximity sensors to notify him of Bruce’s car pulling into the estate. Right on schedule.

“Welcome home Masters Bruce, Timothy, and Duke. If you would, hurry and wash before dinner. It’s been quite the long day, has it not?”

there, it’s gonna be a while for ch. 3

#Good Love ch 2 #daminette #marinette x damian #maridami

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americasass81 · 4 years

Text

Make Her Mine - Chapter Two

Tony Stark x Reader Warnings: Dark!Tony, mostly just mild swearing and stalker behavior here.

A/N:- Also re-editing this chapter from original female character to reader.

Word count: 2000 approx.

Letting yourself into your room, you locked the door behind you before heading towards the bedroom. Sitting on the bed, your accountant's brain began to work through your survival plan for the next seven days. You knew a week wasn't a long time, but since credit cards could be tracked, you knew that cash was the only safe way to stay under the radar and you were now woefully low on that. You also figured your sister might be the first port of call for tracking you down, so that left your best friend.

Calling Sabrina, you gave her a very brief account of your predicament and that if she was willing to help, she really only had until about four o'clock to get what was needed from your apartment. Being better to you than your own sister, you told her where to find your getaway bag and also asked for some basic workout gear, figuring you didn't need anything fancy to outrun an Avenger. Then you told her where to find you and the name you were using before hanging up to wait for her arrival.

One hour later, a text message told you she was outside your room, and upon opening the door you checked to make sure no one else was there before you pulled her inside and locked the door again.

Dropping your bags, she pulled you in for a warm hug before stepping back to give you the once over. "Angel, what exactly is going on and why do you look like crap?" she asked, taking your hand and leading you to the nearest couch.

Sighing heavily as you sat down, you stared at your hands before speaking. "Do you remember the reservation I had Monday night for La Scala?"

"Is that the Italian place you've been going on about for the last three months?"

"Yes. Well it turns out that when they were switching over reservation books, they lost my booking and the best they could offer me was a seat at the bar until a table became available. Obviously I was fine with that, until I drew the attention of Tony Stark and had to turn down his offer to join him."

"Wait, are you telling me you said no to THE Tony Stark? The same Tony Stark who probably doesn't even know the meaning of that word."

"Exactly, and whether or not he knows the meaning of it, he definitely doesn't like hearing it. Apparently he's had Happy Hogan trying to find me since then, which was made kinda redundant when my boss sent me to deliver reports to one of his meetings this morning."

"Well damn, Y/F/N, that must have been some shock. What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"No, it's fine. I mean you have a right to know, since I may or may not have put you in harm's way."

"You what now?"

"Look, I think it's safe to say that Tony Stark is not the hero he appears to be and I think I may have pissed him off a lot more than I should have."

"Y/F/N, what did you do?"

"I barely gave him any information when he questioned me before the meeting, and when he had me threatened and brought to his office afterwards, I said I'd report him to Human Resources."

"Wow, you never do things by half, do you? But that doesn't explain why you're hiding out here or why you think I might be in danger?"

Refusing to look at your best friend, you took some deep breaths before continuing. "Well because when a meeting with Steve Rogers interrupted us, he told me to go back to work and then wait for Happy to drive me to his place afterwards. Obviously I didn't do that and I don't know if he's willing to let this go. If not, I don't know who he's willing to hurt to get to me."

"Fuck Y/F/N, all this because his ego couldn't handle the word no."

"I know right. I'm so sorry for putting you in the middle of all this, but I didn't know who else to trust. I love my sister, but you and I both know she'd sell me out in a heartbeat."

Wrapping her arms around you once more, Sabrina held you tight as she thought through the situation. "You know Y/F/N, this situation might not be as dire as you think. Considering who my husband is, do we really believe that Tony Stark is willing to go up against New York's mob boss just to get to you?"

"I don't know, Sab, and that's the worst part. I don't know what he's capable of. I mean Happy threatened to have me arrested for stealing money from the company if I didn't go to his office. You really think Sebastian can protect you?"

"Oh Angel, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt Seb won't let anything bad happen to me. But what about you? Should we see what he can do for you?"

"No Sabrina, you've done more than enough. Hopefully I'm just overreacting and this will all blow over. If not, then I have my getaway bag and more than enough cash to start over. Your husband would be proud of me." you finish with a chuckle, hoping to ease the tension lines you could see appearing on her forehead.

The next hour was spent with a bottle of wine and some girly chit-chat until Sebastian texted Sabrina to let her know he was in the lobby. Giving your best friend a smile and a hug, you said goodbye and decided to head for a relaxing bath, not knowing the shitstorm that was about to kick off at Stark Industries.

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

No pun intended, but upon arriving at your desk ten minutes before clocking off time, Happy was not a happy camper. After finding your desk empty, he made enquiries from Melinda who informed him that you weren't feeling well and had gone home early. Deciding that it was best not to upset Tony unless absolutely necessary, he brought up your employee file and got a hold of your address. Getting in the car and driving to your place, he was pissed to discover that it was locked tight and no one had seen you all day. Swallowing his anger, he headed off to Tony's to relay this development and see if he really was serious about pursuing you.

Upon walking in, Tony told him to take you to the living room and he'd be right out. However, on entering said room and seeing only Happy, Tony was full of questions. "Happy, would you care to tell me what is wrong with this picture?"

"I know Tony, I can't explain it. From what I've been told, shortly after you sent her back to work, she complained about not feeling well and no one has seen her since."

"No one? Are you fucking kidding me? Nobody just disappears without a trace. F.R.I.D.A.Y. I want a trace put on all credit cards in the name of Stark Industries employee 2474789, back timed to two months ago. I want to know where she's been and where she might go."

"Tony, don't you think all this might be a bit excessive over someone who clearly wants nothing to do with you?"

"You know I was kinda resigned to not knowing who she was, but my god, when she walked into that meeting room and I discovered that I've technically been supporting her for three years. I can't explain it, Happy but she's awoken something in me. F.R.I.D.A.Y. what's the status of recent activity?"

"Nothing Boss. The last credit card purchase was Tuesday at the cafe in the lobby of Stark Industries. Mint flavored hot chocolate with whipped cream, around lunch time."

"Damn, how does one disappear and go over twenty-four hours without financial support?"

"Um Tony, I don't want to state the obvious, but do you think she might be using cash?"

"Cash? Seriously Happy, people still do that?"

"It would explain how she's getting by, while staying off F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s radar."

"Ingenious. My little girl's a clever one, it seems. Thanks Happy, but I think I can handle her from here. You can show yourself out? F.R.I.D.A.Y. pull up any footage you can for Y/F/N's apartment for the last forty-eight hours." Tony ordered, as he headed towards his lab.

Sitting at his workstation, Tony combed through all available footage from your apartment, starting from half an hour before he knew you left work. Noticing nothing out of the ordinary, he was prepared to try some other approach when he saw a young woman exit your building carrying what appeared to be two black duffel bags. Watching her deposit them into a black SUV, he waited to see if her face became visible.

"BINGO! F.R.I.D.A.Y. freeze frame 17a and run facial recognition on that individual."

"Facial recognition scan identifies the young lady as Sabrina Stan. Wife of Sebastian Stan. Current head of the New York mob."

"New York mob connections, huh? Well that could explain her ability to fly under the radar. Still, let's try this without starting a war. F.R.I.D.A.Y. I think it's time I stopped fooling around, run Miss Y/L/N through facial recognition and let me know the second you find her."

"Will do boss." Fifteen minutes later, he heard a beep and looked up from his desk to see footage of you walking through the lobby of the famous Waldorf Astoria towards the elevators.

"Well I'll be damned, either my girl has expensive taste or her mob connections go deeper than a passing acquaintance. F.R.I.D.A.Y. do a complete, deep data scan. Cross reference everything to do with Y/F/N Y/L/N, the Waldorf Astoria and the New York Mob. I need to know if I have to mobilize the Avengers."

Two hours later, having torn himself away from his pet project to play Iron-Man, Tony barely gave himself enough time to rehouse his nanoparticles armor before harassing his A.I. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. do you have the results of that search?"

"Indeed Boss. It appears the connection is nothing more than an acquaintance. Mrs. Stan and Miss Y/L/N were both part of the same book club and writing group a year and a half ago. It seems a friendship developed out of it."

Though it bugged him, all the bother you were putting him to, this new information coupled with you appearing to be somewhat of an introvert, gave him renewed confidence in his plan. Having so far found you utterly fascinating, he knew that once he had you, he would make sure you never said no to him again.

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alexiessan · 4 years

Text

Never alone - Chapter Six - Soulmate AU

AO3

Previous - Here - Next

Master List

I’ve been playing Animal Crossing New Horizons non stop ever since its release. I’m completely addicted to this game.

If you want to share your Switch code or Island code (is that how it’s called in english?) with me, PM me, I would be very happy to visit your islands! I still can’t modify my island though, and I plan to destroy everything to start from zero haha.

Anyway, with this game, I have to remind myself that I have a story to write, and here is chapter 6!

They didn’t stay as late this time, and Marinette was grateful for it. As much as she wanted to spend time with Robin, she wanted to catch a little bit of sleep, but also have a talk with Tikki.

The kwami would not be pleased that her secret was out.

The designer let out a sigh after she bid goodbye to Robin. She wasn’t in the mood for one of Tikki’s lecture about her secret identity, she had enough of those for a lifetime if she were to be honest.

But she would feel guilty if she didn’t tell the tiny god about this new development, so there was no delaying it.

Taking the purse where the kwami of luck was sleeping in, she locked herself inside the bathroom, careful to not make any noise that could wake Alya up.

“Tikki, wake up!” she yell-whispered.

Tikki stirred for a little bit, blinking at her holder.

“Marinette? You’re back from your outing with Robin?” she whispered in return.

“Yeah, but something happened.”

This woke the little god at once.

“Wha-”

“Ssssh! Not so loud, you’re going to wake Alya up!”

They both looked at the bathroom’s door, as if the reporter was going to appear before them.

“Tikki, you’re not going to be happy, but Robin, along with his teammates know my identity. And Chat’s too.”

Tikki froze.

“How the hell is that possible?”

The bluenette explained what Robin had told her earlier.

“Of course, technology…” Tikki sighed. “I hate technology. Magic has not mixed well with it ever since it was invented. But for it to work, they must have one hell of a software. It’s normally easy to fool facial recognition by hiding a little bit of your face, so they must have a really powerful software.”

The god of creation looked at Marinette directly in the eyes, smiling softly.

“I’m not mad at you. I know that I’ve always been lecturing you about your identity and your duty as Ladybug, but this is not your fault. It’s not ideal, but at least it’s your soulmate and not some random people… And maybe they could help with the situation with Hawkmoth!” she concluded, excited.

“About that, they did call the JLE but were rejected…”

“So it’s only down to the two of you then…”

Speaking of Chat Noir…

“Oh no… Tikki, how is Chat Noir going to take it? That someone knows my identity and that it’s not him!”

Tikki’s face became grim.

“Are you going to tell him? I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

“He’s my partner, of course I have to tell him!”

Tikki sighed.

“Look, Marinette. Chat Noir has been doing better ever since you had this serious conversation with him. He takes his job seriously, he stopped flirting and joking… But he still loves you. I’m afraid that if you tell him, he will take it hard and go back to the way he was before…”

“I get what you’re saying, but I trust Chat. I don’t think it will happen. Anyway, I won’t see him for another two weeks, it will give me time to find a way to bring it up to him.”

Marinette fell silent.

“I will also have to tell him that I found my soulmate…”

Tikki smiled sadly.

“And he’s still convinced that the two of you are soulmates.”

The Eurasian girl sighed.

“We’ll cross that bridge later. We should go to bed for now, Tikki.”

The little god flew to her holder’s cheek, placing a small kiss there.

“I’m very proud of you, Marinette. I know you were scared about talking to me, but don’t forget that I am, and always will be, proud of you.”

The teenage girl smiled brightly.

“Thank you, Tikki. That means a lot.”

The rest of the week was incredible. Gotham, while not as bright as Paris was, was a beautiful city with a lot of History. They had a lot to visit and each location gave Marinette so much inspiration.

The class has been worried about going to the city with the highest crime rate in the world, but they have been lucky so far. One of the locations they have been visiting has been attacked, but they had left twenty minutes before that.

The class caught sight of several of the vigilantes, to everyone’s delight.

“I wish I could get an interview with them…” complained Alya one day.

Adrien laughed.

“I don’t think they are as accessible as Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

“I’m still optimistic that I can get one by the end of the trip!”

“Keep dreaming, Alya.” winked Kim who has been hovering behind them.

Marinette smiled, watching her friends bickering. She didn’t feel Rose coming at her side.

“You’ve been oddly happy these days, Mari.”

The blonde looked at her, a knowing look and a slight smirk on her face.

The dark-haired girl smiled, holding her sketchbook up.

“Of course! Gotham has so many Victorian and Gothic buildings, it’s beautiful! It gave me many ideas for future designs!”

The knowing look and smirk disappeared to give way to a beaming smile.

“Really?! Can I see?”

Marinette handed her her sketchbook, relieved. She swore that Rose had a radar of some sort and could feel love from miles away.

Not that she was in love with Robin yet, but she had to admit that she did like him a bit and enjoyed spending time with him.

She couldn’t wait to see him tonight.

After days of telling him things about her and vice versa, they began talking about everything and nothing.

She didn’t remember how they got to talk about seemingly bad people changing for the better.

“I don’t think it’s possible.” said Robin.

“You think a bad person will always stay bad? That they won’t ever realize that what they’ve been doing was wrong?”

The vigilante nodded.

“Well, I don’t agree with you. I think people can change, it’s just that some of them need a push.”

He looked at her, waiting for her to develop her thought.

“For example, my classmate, Lila. When she was first transferred into our class, she was always lying. Telling people what they wanted to hear to make friends. Eventually, my class realized she was lying and she stopped. See? She was really mean, and she’s still a bit mean, but she changed!”

Robin scoffed.

“You’re really naive if you think that.”

The girl frowned.

“How so?” she asked, not offended by his rudeness.

“That girl didn’t stop lying because she realized that it was wrong. She stopped lying because it wasn’t interesting for her to do so anymore. She lost her public, your classmates knew to take everything she said with a grain of salt, so why keep lying? The day she will switch class or meet new people, she will start lying again.”

Alright, she could see his point, but it was a bit pessimistic in her opinion.

“You’re right. Maybe that’s the case. But maybe not. Even if I don’t like Lila, I want to the best in her, and I really hope that she changed.”

She nudged his arm with her shoulder, smiling at him.

“I’ll let you be the pessimistic one, but be prepared for my optimism!”

She took the sketchbook that laid beside her.

“Anyway! We got our last day of touring today before we all begin our internships tomorrow, and I got really inspired for an outfit. I would like your opinion.”

She handed him the sketchbook.

“You’re doing an internship at Wayne Enterprises, right? In what sector?” he asked as he took the sketchbook from her.

“Yeah… I’m doing it in business management. I want to have my own line one day, and for that, I have to start a business, and thus, know how to run one. I’ll be shadowing the co-CEO, Timothy Drake.” she smiled.

Robin choked. Tim didn’t say anything about that.

“The co-CEO, really?”

“Yeah, I know. I was really surprised too. It seems very unusual too.”

And it was. But Robin suspected that Bruce and Tim arranged it that way because Marinette was Ladybug and they wanted to keep an eye on her, make sure that she wasn’t overwhelmed with her duty as Ladybug and her life as a civilian.

Maybe the Agreste boy was shadowing Tim too, as he was Chat Noir. Then again, maybe not. Ladybug was the obvious leader, as much as they claimed they were a team of equals.

He would have to ask Tim about that and have a serious talk with him about not being weird with Marinette.

He got along very well with her as Robin and he didn’t want his brother to ruin it for Damian.

He opened the sketchbook, stunned by the designs.

“You’re very talented.” he said as he turned the pages.

“Oh, thank you.”

He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. She was blushing, looking at anything but him.

She was very modest or not used to compliments, he observed.

He arrived at the last page of drawings, where a very detailed sketch of a man outfit laid.

“I really like this outfit.” he pointed to her.

The fashion designer smiled.

“Actually, I was thinking of you for this outfit.”

Robin looked at her, surprised.

“If you don’t mind, before I go back to Paris, I would like to get your measurements. I would like to make it for you.”

A small smile appeared on his face. That would be nice.

“I will give you a safe address to send it, then. I’ll give you my measurements tomorrow. Thank you, Marinette.”

His soulmate beamed and he fought the blush that was making its way on his face. He hoped she wouldn’t see how red his ears were.

“You’re welcome!”

The smile quickly disappeared though, and she now looked nervous.

“Is something wrong?”

He decided that he didn’t like seeing her like this.

“There is also something that I wanted to ask you.”

He raised an eyebrow and she looked even more nervous. Damn, wrong move.

“You can ask me anything, you know.”

He hoped that it would calm her a little. He wanted her to be at ease with him, to not be scared of asking him anything.

“Ah, two things, actually. The first one is, I would like to introduce you to Tikki.”

He began to protest.

“Ah, no! Don’t worry. She’s not a classmate or anything. She’s not even human. She’s a being that gives me my powers as Ladybug, and since you know my identity, she would like to meet you. She’s been giving us time alone until now, but she still would like to meet one of the only people knowing about my identity. And probably give you a little lecture too, knowing her.”

Robin sighed, relieved. For a second he was scared that she told one of her friends about him. He should have known better.

“Alright then, I’ll meet her. What’s the other thing?”

Marinette’s nervousness came back as she wrung her fingers.

“It’s a bit more delicate… You see, I’ve been thinking about how I will go back to Paris at the end of next week and I don’t know when we’ll see each other again… So I was wondering if… If you had a secure phone number or mail address so we can keep contact…”

The vigilante smiled fondly. In a bold move, he ruffled her hair.

“There’s no need to be so nervous. I’ve been thinking about it and my phone is one of the most secure you can find, so I don’t worry about giving you my number. I’ve been meaning to give it to you by the end of your trip.”

He, Tim and Barbara had made sure that no one would ever be able to hack their phones.

The blue-eyed girl pouted, trying to style her hair back to the way before he messed it up.

She was cute, he thought fondly.

She smiled at him after processing what she said.

“Great, then! We’ll be able to call each other then! Will video calls be ok as well?”

He nodded. “As long as you send a text beforehand to make sure I’m in costume.”

“Oh, yes, of course!”

He watched as she looked at the horizon.

“I’ll be sad though. I’ll be back in Paris and you won’t be there.”

He could feel his cheeks warming.

“We’re not there yet. And we still have a good week in each other’s company.”

After seeing Marinette every day for two weeks, Robin knew it would be difficult to readjust to life without her.

It was as if she’s been in his life for far longer.

“Come on, it’s getting late. You’ve got your first day of internship tomorrow, you want to make a good impression, right? Looking like a zombie tomorrow will have the opposite effect.”

And he wanted to catch Tim tonight to have a talk about his behavior for tomorrow.

The French girl playfully hit his arm at his zombie comment, but still smiled at him.

He swore that one day he would go blind because of her smiles.

Tag list:

@bigpicklebananatree @animegirlweeb @crazylittlemunchkin @northernbluetongue @cutechip @justafanwarrior @iloontjeboontje @resignedcatservant @maribat-is-lifeblood @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @toodaloo-kangaroo @mikantsume @dast218 @amayakans @zestyzealot

#maribat #daminette #maridami #damian x marinette #ml x dc #miraculous x dc

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alj4890 · 4 years

Text

And Then I Met You

What happens when the one you thought you were meant for turns out to be meant for someone else?

A\N Choices Fan Fiction with characters from The Royal Romance, Red Carpet Diaries, and Perfect Match

@lxaah11 @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @hopelessromantic1352 @krsnlove @annekebbphotography @hopelessromantic1352 . @sunflowergirl05 @desireepow-1986 @greywitchyshots @lilyofchoices @moodyvalentinestories @emceesynonymroll @my-heart-beats-for-ya @aworldoffandoms @ab1901 @lolablackwrites @flyawayboo @i-bloody-love-drake-walker . @trappedinfandoms @kate-mckenzie

A/N This is the final chapter for this storyline. Thank you so much for reading this and enjoying it with me. I will still offer shorts and requests for this pair in this storyline. My next series for Thomas and Amanda will be the, “what if” she never told him about being part of the selection for Liam’s bride. The trip to Lake Tahoe will not result in their hasty marriage. No Lauren. None of what has happened here. If you would like to be tagged in this, please let me know in the comments. The new series will be called, And Then I Left You. Cheesy right? LOL!

Masterlist

Part 27

Lord Thurston Vancouer’s study, Cormery Isle, Cordonia...

Lauren stilled at Tariq's words.

"You," her eyes narrowed, "you are ending our engagement?!"

"Yes." He clasped his hands behind his back. "I have already sent in my statement to the press and--"

"You did what?" She screeched. "How dare you! I should have been the one to do that." She stepped forward and slapped him. "Do you have any idea what this will do to my reputation?"

Tariq's jaw spasmed from the impact. He calmly turned his head back toward her.

Her temper flared even more at his silence. “I gave up my career for you, you bastard!” She raised her hand to slap him again.

His hand shot up, grasping her wrist. “I think this is for the best.”

“You think so?” Her lips curled in a snarl. “You will regret this.”

His expression hardened. “I think I will regret it more if I don’t end things now.”

Lauren yanked her hand away. “You weren’t the only man who wanted me to marry him.” Her chin lifted as she tried her best to look down her nose at him. “I was told by your friend to dump your sorry ass and choose him.”

Tariq merely shrugged causing her vengeful temper to burst.

“It’s Blair isn’t it?” She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t think I’ve been oblivious to the extra time you have been spending with her.”

“She is in a sense a reason behind my decision.” He responded. “But mostly, she opened my eyes to your true nature.”

“You haven’t even begun to see my true nature.” She warned. “But you will. You will see all that I am as I destroy every single thing you love.”

Her smile sent chills down Tariq’s back as did the words that followed.

“I think I will start with Arabella. That will punish not only Neville for what he did to me, but will also hurt your precious Blair. Then I’ll--”

“I don’t think you will have the chance to do anything to my daughters or son.” Lord Thurston’s hard tone cut through her tirade.

Lauren paled when she saw members of the King’s Guard fan out around the study behind Lord Thurston.

“Your time in Cordonia has come to an end.” Thurston told her. “In fact, I believe you will never have an opportunity to hurt anyone ever again.”

Lauren screamed out her denial when the the guards moved to take her into custody.

“You can’t do this! I--” she was silenced by the guards forcing her to the ground to handcuff her.

An Interpol agent stood by, watching it all unfold while reading out the crimes she was accused of.

Arabella and Blair stood silently with Neville in the hallway as Lauren was dragged out, screaming and crying.

“We must inform Lady Olivia and Lady Amanda that it is done.” Thurston said once the front door closed behind the guards..

“I’ll call Olivia.” Arabella ran off, excited to not only see Lauren taken away, but at also recording the whole incident. She knew a few popular reporters in Cordonia who would appreciate this video.

“I’ll make certain that Lady Amanda is told.” Blair went to Tariq and gently squeezed his hand. Her eyes met his. “Are you alright?”

He nodded, a gentle smile formed over her concern for him. “I am now.”

With a whispered promise to talk to him soon, she left the three men alone.

Thurston cleared his throat to break the tense silence and waved toward his study. “I believe we need to clear the air between you two.”

“There is no need.” Tariq replied. He averted his eyes from the two. “It will take time, but I refuse to let what happened ruin my relationship with the Vancouer’s.”

Neville lowered his head. “I don’t know what possessed me to do that to you.” He lifted remorseful eyes to his old friend. “I humbly ask your forgiveness.”

Thurston wisely remained silent as he watched his son and the man he considered a second son. He knew that this was something that only they could resolve.

Tariq shifted from foot to foot. “I won’t insult you by lying that I understand why you did it or that it didn’t hurt to hear that you--” he shook his head. “I consider you and your family as my own. And if things go as I think, then we will be brothers in truth one day.” His shoulders straightened. “You will have my forgiveness, but it will take a long time for you to regain my trust.”

Thurston looked on in approval as the two shook hands, his son expressing once more his sorrow for his actions.

Time would heal these wounds.

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

The night before in Monterisso, Queen Amalas's private quarters...

"Enough haggling." Olivia grumbled. "I've offered my services the next time you need them." She folded her arms, leveling her basilisk gaze upon the Queen of Spies. "What have you found out about Lauren Benefield?"

Amalas poured them each a glass of wine. "Have a seat."

Olivia eyed the crystal goblet.

"Please." Amalas rolled her eyes. "Why would I make deals if I planned on poisoning you?"

Olivia set the glass down. "I know you didn't poison it. I am here on business, not some social call."

The queen's expression held hints of approval. "And this is why I offered my services to you." She pulled out a small flash drive and tossed it to her. "That, your grace, holds everything."

Olivia quirked an eyebrow. "I assume you kept a copy for yourself."

Amalas silently raised her glass in a toast. "Wouldn't you?"

Olivia's lips twitched into a brief smile. "Naturally."

The Queen pressed a button under her desk. The wall to the left opened, revealing a series of monitors.

Amalas took her own copy of the flash drive and began to pull up all she had discovered on Lauren Benefield.

"It is a good thing you managed to have Lauren quit Lord Hunt's picture.” She began, “ Here's a brief synopsis of what I discovered about her and her associate, Viktor Montmarte.

Olivia pulled up a chair and began reading. Her complexion paled due to some of what she read.

"Kidnapping. Drugs. Sex trafficking. Rape. Extortion." She clicked and saw the small island in the south Pacific that Viktor owned.

"Lauren was not only partaking of these activities." Amalas explained. "She was handpicking underage girls and having them sent to his island," her voice hardened in anger, "under the guise that this was their big break into Hollywood."

Olivia's eyes widened at the satellite images of what was happening around Viktor's estate. "Dear God."

"Interpol along with the FBI are thrilled that I was able to get some concrete evidence." Amalas explained. "I've been working with them the past few months." Her voice turned cold. “Montmarte has friends in very high places that have been helping him stay just under the radar.” Her eyes narrowed. “I knew he couldn’t be doing all this on his own.”

"And when you saw what Lauren was doing to Thomas and Amanda, you were able to get the final piece to the puzzle?" Olivia murmured.

"I didn't know if she was a victim or a partner of Viktor's. Once I tapped into their conversations while she was at Lythikos, I was able to see how deeply involved she was." Amalas enlarged a photo of Lauren smiling as she disembarked off a plane with two teenage girls. "Without her help, Viktor wouldn't have gotten half of the girls he and his friends preferred."

Olivia clicked on another image of Lauren and Viktor at a pool party. The actress was laughing while holding down a young woman in tears so that the producer could forcefully fondle her.

Amalas clicked back to her notes. "I discovered this too." She pulled up a recorded conversation between Viktor and Lauren from when she first began working with Thomas. "Lauren records everything in case she needs to blackmail Viktor and vice versa."

Viktor: How's your seduction going?

Lauren: *laughter* Slow. I have to handle Thomas with kid gloves.

Viktor: If anyone can do it, it's you.

Lauren: I know. *more laughter* Don't worry. I won't forget about you. Once Mr. Hunt is mine, I will give you his grieving wife.

Viktor: *chuckle* I have plans for the duchess.

Lauren: I bet you do.

Viktor: I haven't ever had a noble before. *sinister chuckle* Perhaps I should use the gold rope when I tie her up.

Lauren: Promise me that I get to watch. I can't wait to see her content, happy face devastated.

Viktor: I promise it will be all that you desire, my dear.

Lauren: Maybe we should first force her to watch what I do with Thomas. That will really get her.

Viktor: The more broken they are the more turned on I get. We'll use the rooms with the two-way mirrors. I’ll start by--

Olivia turned it off. Her rage exploded as she stood abruptly from her chair.

"I--" tears sparked her green eyes. "I can't believe--" words failed her as she thought of her closest friend encountering such evil. That she actually had this person in her home as a guest.

Amalas placed a comforting hand on Olivia's shoulder. "Don't worry." She closed the files. "Once America and Europe are finished, these two will be permanently placed in a dank cell."

“They don’t deserve that consideration.” Olivia snapped. “To think of all the lives they have ruined.”

Later that night, Olivia called Liam and Bastien. She explained all that she had discovered, urging them to alert Lord Thurston to guard Arabella and Blair.

Plans were made to have the actress apprehended and held for extradition. Liam promised to call Tariq to go ahead an issue a statement that his engagement was over before the scandal struck.

After talking to them, Olivia called Amanda.

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

St Orella, Cordonia, the next day...

Thomas was in no state to continue filming. Last night's discovery had nearly broke him. Knowing he would have been the one that brought about harm to Amanda and their life together had devastated him.

He had briefly explained to Holly to have the crew take a few days off while he came to terms with everything.

He then spent the morning on the balcony, staring off at the waves, crashing against the rocky shore.

"How long have you been out here?" Amanda asked once she found him.

"Sunrise." He replied, unable to look directly at her.

She came over and sat next to him. Her hand slipped into his as she turned her attention to the beauty before them.

Thomas couldn't take the simple kindness. He rose abruptly and went to stand over at the balustrade.

"Thomas?" Amanda followed him and wrapped her arms around him from behind. "What's--"

He jerked out of her grasp. "I need to be alone."

Her eyes searched his, causing him to avert his gaze.

"Why?" She asked.

Thomas ran his hands over his face. "You know why."

She leaned against the balustrade, silently observing her husband’s odd behavior.

He couldn't take it. He left her without a word and went directly to their closet.

Amanda followed him, watching as he began to pack.

"What are you doing?" She asked. "We don't leave for the capital until Thursday."

He tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat. "I'm not going to the capital."

"What? Why?" Amanda couldn't take him avoiding her and blocked his path. "We must attend Liam's coronation!"

Thomas stilled when she took his hands. His head dropped, wishing she would order him to leave and never return. He didn’t deserve her.

"Are you angry with me?" She asked.

His head jerked up. "What would I have to be angry with you for?" His expression hardened. "Were you the one to insist on having an actress be around the one you vowed to protect? Were you the one who dismissed all the concerns voiced by those you trust?" His voice cracked. "Did you leave the one you love more than anything alone with such a person nearby to film on location?"

Amanda stepped closer, winding her arms around him. "You didn't know Lauren was that evil. You thought she was a flirt. A woman who got off on destroying people's lives with affairs."

"I should have put two and two together." He snapped, completely disgusted at himself. "I suspected Viktor of predatory behavior with young actresses. I should have seen that his closeness to Lauren meant that they were of like mind."

His temper broke as he thought over all his decisions concerning the actress. “AND I’M THE FOOL WHO BROUGHT THEM INTO OUR HOME!”

His voice echoed in their bedroom. A nervous Hudson knocked on the door, forcing Thomas to quickly apologize for his outburst.

Amanda shushed him, pulling him closer to her. The morning's news had shown the actress being extradited from Cordonia while Viktor was simultaneously being dragged from his Hollywood mansion in the middle of the night. Some other famous people and those in the business and diplomatic world were being held for questioning and arrested.

"It's over." She said softly. "Neither Viktor nor Lauren will ever have a chance to hurt someone again." She pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. "And thankfully, they did not have a chance to hurt us as they had planned."

"If they had, I--" he swallowed at the lump in his throat. "I could have lost you."

Amanda shook her head. "You wouldn't have lost me."

She tried to kiss him. Prove to him that all was as it should be.

He broke away. "I would have. If Lauren had succeeded in making you believe I was having an affair. If Viktor had succeeded in--" his fist clinched, wishing he had them wrapped around the man's throat. "I would have lost you."

She tried to say he wouldn't, yet, she knew deep down that he very well might have. As she imagined how she would be after going through something like that, she realized what would have happened if they had divorced.

"We would have found our way back to each other."

Thomas raised his heartbroken eyes back to hers. "You sound so certain."

"Not only do I love you, I need you." She admitted. "You give me comfort." She tugged on his arms to hold her. "You listen to me, try to help me...I would have needed all that if they had succeeded." She nestled her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. "Your touch alone helps ease any worry or pain I have."

He clutched her tight, words failing at how she did the same for him. He pressed his lips to her forehead, letting them remain there as he allowed her to ease the tension within him.

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

Fives Months Later, Hollywood...

Thomas tugged at his bowtie while he waited downstairs. He reviewed the speech he had written for tonight’s premiere of The Earl’s Undoing.

“You’re going to ruin that if you keep pulling at it.”

He looked up and smiled at his wife coming downstairs. Slipping the notecards in his breast pocket, he met her at the bottom step.

“I must admit that I feel those same butterflies that I had the night you took me to the AFI’s awards.” She tilted her head when he kissed her cheek. “Are you sure this is what I should wear tonight?”

Thomas took her hand and twirled her. The rich royal blue gown sparkled in the lamp light. “You look beautiful.”

She pressed a tender kiss to his lips, smiling as he held her close. “You look very handsome.”

“I notice you say that whenever I wear a tuxedo.” He teased. “That is the only reason I keep wearing them to events.”

She laughed, slipping her arm in the bend of his. “We better go. Liam sent a text saying that they would be leaving the hotel in an hour.”

The two made their way to the theater. Cameras flashed as their limo pulled up.

“Ready?” Thomas asked.

“I think so.” She gripped his hand.

“Normally, I would say we forget about it and go straight home.” He stepped out of the car and helped her out. As cameras flashed and cheers were yelled, he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “But I want everyone to see how proud I am that you let me direct your story.”

Cameras once again captured the moment the two looked at one another. The tender smile and obvious love was seen by all along with the sweet kiss the duchess gave her director.

That night, Thomas did not remain dismissive of any question posed about the film. With Amanda by his side, he remained for the most part, almost pleasant with the invasive inquiries of their life together and whether or not they would work on any more projects as they had with The Earl’s Undoing.

Finally making it inside the theater, they joined their friends who each had a hand in helping the couple get here together.

Once they all found their seats, Thomas whispered that he would be right back.

He made his way to the front of the packed auditorium and raised his hand for silence.

“Good evening.” He began. “I want to thank each person who made this movie possible. My gratitude to our friends from Cordonia who traveled here specifically to support us. And how grateful I am for those of you who came out tonight.”

He cleared his throat and waited for the applause to die down. “Let me begin by saying what many directors that have come before me have said. This was a labor of love.” His eyes met Amanda’s. “But unlike the love we feel for our craft, mine was truly one of deep, heartfelt emotion. Without this story, I would have never met the author who ended up becoming the very love of my life.”

Amanda blinked back tears as he gave a brief story of how he had fallen in love with her while working towards making a movie. Beside her, Nadia, Riley, and Addison were sniffing and wiping their own tears. Even Olivia and Holly were slightly affected, both attempting to pretend they weren’t.

“What you will see on the screen is a love letter to my wife, Amanda.” He explained. “Every shot. Every line said in a particular way. Every bit of costume and scenery...it is all from my heart.” He once again met his wife’s unwavering gaze. “For the rest of my life, this movie will be my favorite of all time and all because I met you.”

#Thomas Hunt #choices red carpet diaries #choices thomas hunt #thomas hunt x oc #thomas hunt x amanda #and then I met you

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notquitecanon · 4 years

Text

Reunions and the F word. Marvel / Criminal Minds crossover pt.3 (reader insert)

Part One Part Two

January 2011

You stood in front of the BAU for the first time in almost a year. Utilizing some of SHIELD’s computer access, you’d been keeping up with their cases- and through their reports (and tidbits of information that the bureau kept) with them. You knew they were in at the moment.

Aside from the usual overwhelming number of cases, you were surprised by how uneventful things had been in the BAU, but grateful at the same time. Uneventful meant safe. The biggest thing that happened was that JJ had gotten a job offer from the Pentagon, and had been forced to take it.

You made a mental note to drop by her house later in the week- depending on how the Team reacting to your sudden reappearance. Would they be happy to see you? Angry that you left? Angry that you came back? Maybe they wouldn’t care?

But there was no turning back now, you had already entered the building and were waiting outside those glass doors (you were shocked at how far you could get just flashing your SHIELD badge). Hell, you could see Derek teasing Spencer at the Doctor’s desk- his hair was much shorter now. Prentiss was laughing with them, and Garcia was making (what was probably) her third cup of coffee in a TARDIS patterned mug.

No, they won’t want me to see me- They’re busy. You decided, turning on your heel back towards the elevators. But your escape was halted by someone’s chest, your eyes flicked up to find-

“(Y/N)?” David Rossi’s voice was astonished, but not angry. Your eyes quickly observed all of his behavior, but all you picked up was curiosity and shock. “What are you doing here?”

Well, at least he’s not angry. You decided as you softly smiled back at him, “Hey Rossi, I thought I was overdue for a visit. Think the team has a minute?”

When Rossi walked you into the Bullpen, heads were on a swivel. You watched your former team, just trying to get an accurate read of their feelings before you spoke to anyone. You caught Prentiss’ eyes first, as everyone in the room: shock, fondness, confusion- no anger. Then you moved on to Spencer: he was smiling, but eyebrows read confusion, slight betrayal, but overall no hostility. Hotch had come out of his office, as usual, his expression was unreadable, except for the glimmer of confusion and disapproval. Garcia was smiling widely, excitement written all over her face. But Morgan... Derek looked like he was barely hiding the anger and masking it with overall disapproval. You sucked in a breath, thinking to yourself, This is going to be fun.

Just as quickly, you were ushered into the briefing room- giving you a sense of deja vu from all the times JJ had called you and the team in. They all took their prospective seats except for Derek who stood behind his- clear sign of hostility. None of them spoke, just all waited for you to start.

You’d made up your mind to come here, but you never figured out what to say once you got there. Awkwardly you smiled, clasping your hands in front of you as you met each of their eyes. “Uh, hi guys, it’s been a while. Just under a year.”

“Not to be rude, but is there something you want to say? If not, we’ve got cases to work. We-” Derek started, arms crossed angrily over his chest. He reminded you a lot of Clint, both now and just your memories of him. Hotch interrupted him before he could continue with a quiet ‘Morgan.’

“No, he’s right.” You assured, glancing down to the floor, pausing as you thought to yourself I’ve never noticed how blue this carpet is... not important right now, “I haven’t been allowed contact until now. But that’s not an excuse is it.”

You took another moment collecting your thoughts, looking into Spencer’s eyes- it was that same “I’m sympathetic but you kind of deserve it smile” he’d given you almost a year ago, this time you smiled back.

“I wasn’t allowed contact until they could be sure I wasn’t a security risk. And then they set me to work, I’ve been working up behavioral profiles ever since.” You explained.

“Them being SHIELD,” Rossi remarked, it wasn’t a question but you nodded regardless. You picked your words carefully, making sure you weren’t telling something you weren’t supposed to.

“They’d been watching the BAU for a while- it was actually the Anthrax case that attracted their attention. You remember General Thaddeus Ross? He works closely with SHIELD. They determined that I was the most likely to actually leave the Bureau, and my sanction provided a clean break, but that’s not the reason I left.” You offered, hoping the information would appease them. “I’ve been, uh, keeping up with your cases. You’ve been doing good work.”

“We’ve been shorthanded.” Morgan remarked, but it was masked by Reid’s question. You couldn’t help the look of hurt that flashed across your face, but you also caught the warning glare that Hotch sent him and look of sadness from Penelope.

“What did they need a profiler for?” Spencer asked, directing attention back to you. You hated having to lie, but you knew telling them it was ‘classified’ would provoke Morgan more.

“You know, they didn’t actually tell me. I’ve been drawing up profiles on agents, scientists, and other people on their radar.” You lied, you knew exactly what they were doing with your profiles.

“Scientists, anyone I would know?” Reid asked, leaning in. You playfully winked at him. Garcia speaking before you could answer.

“Any SHIELD agents you could put on my radar?” She asked, playfully wiggling her eyebrows with a ‘sexy’ smirk on her lips. You and Prentiss laughed out loud, while Hotch and Rossi hid a smile. Reid, as usual, looked confused. Morgan even cracked a smile before regaining composure.

“I’ll see what I can do, Garcia.” You winked. Garcia giggled and Prentiss was still laughing, and for a brief moment, you could imagine that you never left. But you had left, and you didn’t regret it, but you knew they had work to do.

“I’m on leave for a week, and I’d love to catch up with you all. But I know you have cases to go through.” You paused, fishing a card out of your jacket pocket. “This has my new phone number on it, if any of y’all would like to catch up. If your busy or don’t want to, I understand.”

Hotch nodded, motioning for the team to get going. They all started bustling as they filed out, Derek caught your eyes again before leaving. Hotch and Rossi were the last ones out, walking with you.

“It was good to see you.” Rossi nodded, holding the door open. You smiled.

“Figured I owed an explanation, at least what I was allowed to tell you.” You sighed, as he patted you on the back.

“I’m sorry about Derek. I’ll speak to him later.” He promised. You shook your head.

“No need, I know exactly what it looks like. It looks like I’m climbing the latter.” You admitted, looking over the bullpen at Derek who was working through paperwork while the rest of the team was chatting amongst themselves. You knew how he felt about latter-climbers, he basically refused to take promotions himself- he hated having to take over for Hotch. “You think he’ll forgive me?”

They shared a look, but didn’t answer you.

__________

Garcia was the first to reach out, later that day- which wasn’t really all that surprising. She’d already organized a girl’s night- even got JJ and Prentiss involved. You smiled as she rambled over the phone, how some bar was having themed drinks and she was so excited to get the gang back together. Before you knew it, you were sitting on a barstool laughing as Prentiss made a fool of some guy. Now that all the questions were out of the way, it was like old times again.

You turned to JJ, “So how’s Henry? god, I feel like I’ve missed so much.”

JJ laughed a bit more before answering, “Henry, oh he’s great! He’s learning words. Getting into everything he shouldn’t. Me and Will have our hands full.”

Her voice was fond as she stirred her drink. You smiled softly as you sipped yours. Garcia bustled up between you, setting a tray down on the table, “Less sipping, more shots, ladies. Who knows when we’re going to get to do this again!”

You chuckled but knew better than to argue as she slung her arm around you and JJ. JJ shouted over her shoulder, “Prentiss, get over here and be irresponsible with us!”

And that’s the last thing you remembered before waking up on Garcia’s couch, covered in a blanket with a pounding headache and a desperate need for water.

“Good morning.” Garcia groaned as she shuffled past the couch. You waved to her as you propped yourself up, “I’ll drop you by your hotel on my way to work today.”

She then winced at the noise of her dropping her keys on the counter, “Oh, why do I always bring out the shots. It’s never a good idea.”

Slowly, fuzzy memories flooded back- the shots, the dancing, the laughs. You smiled fondly. “Bad ideas make good memories and bad headaches.”

_________

After Garcia dropped you back at your hotel, you immediately put your dead phone on the charger. Next, you opened your computer almost relieved to find no emails from Fury or Coulson. Your stomach growled, nothing in it but the remnants of cheap cocktails and the coffee Penelope made you. Fortunately, the hefty SHIELD paycheck could afford to have breakfast delivered to your door. So one hot meal, a shower, and two tylenol later, you checked your phone.

Two messages from Natasha, and two from an unknown number.

Natasha: You in DC?

Natasha: Heard you got leave. That’s impressive, new agents never get leave in their first year.

Unknown number: This is Reid, you free for lunch today?

Spencer: Morgan said he’d come with me- don’t know if that’s an encouragement or deterrent.

You texted Spencer back first, More than happy to. Just give me a time and place.

And then to Natasha, Quantico, only a short train ride to the city though.

Spencer: Quantico Grill / 12:15 ? You always liked their fries.

You: Sounds good, Doc.

Natasha: just checking up on you. Just got back from my mission & you weren’t in your office.

You: I’ll be back on Friday :)

Ever since Natasha had gotten off her mission with Stark, she’d been steadily hanging around with you more- occasionally even dragging Clint along with her. You’d even dare to call her a friend. She’d also been brushing up on your combat skills, getting you ready for your upcoming field test. SHIELD standards were a bit higher than the FBI’s.

You smiled at the thought as you went through your routine of getting ready, it was already 10:30 AM. Pleased with your appearance by 11, you were startled by a dinging from your laptop.

“[Level 6 Security Clearance] CLASSIFIED. As soon as you’re back, we’ve got work for you.” Was the subject line of an email form Coulson, but the digitized files were dated all in the 1940s. Great another wild goose chase.You thought as you opened the file, skimming them to pass the time.

Captain Steve Rogers.... Captain Effing America.

As much as you were interested in Captain America (always your favorite part of History class in school), you didn’t know why they’d want to profile a soldier that had long since been dead. You skimmed to the bottom, oh that’s why.

Captain Steve Rogers, found in ice, comatose, but Alive.

Under that was another note from Phil, “You’ve got your work cut out for you. You’ll need to build a preliminary with the attached files and then do an in-person interview when he wakes up. Report to the New York field office as soon as your leave is over.”

You scrolled back up to the top, reading over reports from several familiar names like Peggy Carter and Howard Stark. You certainly did have your work cut out for you. You tore your eyes up to the clock.

11:45.

But work could wait.

_________

When your taxi slid into a spot beside the Quantico Grill, you paid quickly already spotting Reid’s old blue Volvo. While you were happy to catch up with Spencer, anxiety was bubbling in your stomach from your last encounter with Derek. You shoved the negative thoughts out of your head as you slid through the tinted glass door.

You immediately spotted Spencer sitting by himself in a booth facing the door, so with a smile and a wave you slid across from him. As always, his relaxed state was incredibly awkward looking, but you were long since accustomed to it. “Hey, Spence. Derek back out?”

The Doctor smiled back, but shook his head, “No, you just missed him. He just went to the bathroom to take a call.”

You nodded, getting situated. Spencer continued on, smiling playfully as he teased, “Prentiss and Garcia looked pretty rough this morning. Long night?”

“It’s always a long night when Garcia serves shots.” You grinned, even though Spencer knew- (JJ had often either dragged him along on ‘girls night’ or called as a DD after said girls night.) A waitress across the way dropped a glass, startled both of you. You jumped slightly before glancing at Spencer who was wincing- one hand rubbing his eye and the other pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Spence, you ok?” You asked in concern as the Doctor across from you slowly stopped rubbing his eye. He nodded, voice strained.

“Yeah, I’m, uh, fine.” He nodded, finally looking back to you. You simply quirked an eyebrow.

“You wanna lie more convincingly or just go ahead and tell me the truth?” You smiled. Even if he had lied more convincingly, you would have been able to tell- the two of you had always been close.

He opened his mouth, before closing it again, collecting his thoughts before admitting, “I’ve, uh, been having these headaches lately. Well, migraines really. But it’s not a big deal, I’m, uh, going to a specialist doctor, soon.”

“Oh, Well, I’m sure everything will work itself out. But keep me updated, yeah?” You nodded as a waiter approached the table. Both you and Spencer gave him your drink orders before he turned back to you.

“So, but, uh, what about your new job?” He asked, you ducked your head with a smile.

“Well, I’m doing the same profiling, just not with serial killers. Well, so far.” You nodded, “Oh, I forgot I wanted to ask, What do you know about Bruce Banner?”

His face lit up, beginning his monologue and not even bothering to stop when Derek slid into the booth, “Bruce Banner- the man has eight Ph. Ds- that’s my goal. His work in thermonuclear astrophysics is unparalleled. His theory about...”

You zoned him out for a second, smiling and nodding hello to Derek- who at least didn’t seem to want to shoot you on sight like he had yesterday. He nodded back to you flagging down a waitress to order his drink.

“... Not to mention his rumored involvement in the creation of the Hulk. It’s honestly fascinating. Honestly, who knows the halt on scientific advancement because he’s gone missing. I actually traveled to Culver University to attend a joint lecture of his with Dr. Erik Selvig about anti-electron collisions. It was fascinating! Why do you ask? Wait, did SHIELD find him?!”

You shook your head frantically, biting not only his location but also the fact that Dr. Banner was the Hulk on the tip of your tongue, laughing it off, “No, well, not that I know of- I’m not exactly high on the totem pole yet.”

He deflated a bit but didn’t lose his smile. You glanced at Derek who just watched you disinterestedly, you smiled awkwardly but continued your conversation, playfully whispering, “But, they did let me interview and profile Tony Stark.”

That spurred another long monologue about the technological advances made by Tony Stark, he only paused long enough to let the waiter take the table’s orders. Then restarted his soliloquy to touch on the responsibilities required for said technological advancements. You smiled as you watched him talk, the crazy motions he made with his hands and all the side stories he’d get into- just like he used to do on the jet. It wasn’t long before Morgan seemingly forgot your existence and was back to lightheartedly teasing Spencer, who was delightfully oblivious.

When the waiter brought out the food, your group quieted. Only exchanging short sentences between bites of greasy sandwiches. As you were finishing up, Spencer nudged Derek before loudly clearing his throat, “Lunch is on me guys. You guys can just wait here.”

With that, the resident genius squeezed past Derek quick enough to outrun protests as he left the two of you alone. You sighed with raised eyebrows, “Well, that was completely subtle.”

It was a veiled attempt to gauge the situation. Derek breathed a laugh through his nose, but made no attempt to continue the conversation. You nodded through the awkward silence, searching for something to continue the conversation.

“So, everything good? Seeing anyone?” Even you cringed at the awkward small talk, so you didn’t even give the chance to answer- not that he seemed to want to answer out loud anyway, “Actually, better question- how long am I going to get the famous Derek Morgan cold shoulder?”

“I’m not giving you the cold shoulder.” It was a simple statement, but the arms crossed over his chest said differently. You snorted a laugh.

“Mmmhm. What are you mad about Derek? That I left?” You asked, making sure you didn’t sound hostile, but some of it seeped out. You couldn’t help it, everyone else at least attempted to hear you out- but Morgan, who had been like an older brother to you, seemed to hate your guts now. He shook his head, holding up his hand to stop you.

“No, no, I’m not mad that you left-” He started, but you interrupted, catching his wording. Pointing a finger at his chest.

“But you are mad! If it’s not because I left... Is it because I jumped rank or because... Are you mad that they didn’t ask you?” You asked, the hostile tone slowly leaving your voice as it just became defeated. He sighed, hanging his head.

“No, no... well... I’m not mad about any of that.” He looked off, probably praying for Spencer to return to end the conversation. You sighed, raking a hand through your hair.

“I was mad because you just left. It took them ten minutes to erase your existence. It was like you died. And the jumping rank was just salt in the wound. (Y/L/N).” He paused, “Tell me right now you didn’t leave for the rank. And I’ll drop it.”

Derek was always an intense person, and the look he gave made it near impossible to lie. “There’s a lot of things I can’t tell you. But I joined the BAU to make a difference, to help save people. SHIELD gave me an opportunity to help save even more people, and that’s what it’s all about right? Saving people?”

You stopped for a moment, “Look, I’m sorry about the radio silence- it wasn’t my call. And it’s not like I didn’t miss y’all. But if someone looked at you, and told you that you had the chance to help save hundreds of people? You’re telling me you wouldn’t take it, Morgan? You would, and I know it, Derek, I know you. Saving people, that’s what we do.”

His arms uncrossed, and you counted it as a small victory. Finally, he nodded, body language untensed, “Just promise no more disappearing acts.”

You smiled slightly as Spencer reapproached the table, “I’ll do my best.”

“Ready?” Spence asked, and the two of you nodded, sliding out of the booth. Derek turned to you.

“You need a ride back to your hotel? We got twenty minutes-” He was cut off by both of their phones chiming,

“Oh, I know that sound.” You smiled, waiting as they read the message.

“Yep, we’ve got a case. You want a ride to the BAU, we can call you a cab from there.” He offered. You could tell the friendship wasn’t completely repaired, but it was a start.

“You worried about me, Derek?” You smirked, collecting your coat and bag. You heard him chuckle. “But yeah, I’ll take that ride.”

___

Once inside the BAU, you took a seat at your old desk (which you were weirdly happy was still empty) as Derek and Spencer rushed to the briefing room. You were only there for a moment before Hotch popped his head out, “You want to take a look at this? ”

You smirked as you stood up, “I’d love to.”

“Alright my fine furry friends, you’re heading to Hindsburg, Connecticut,” Garcia started as she turned on the monitor, “These terribly disturbing pictures are of Mr. & Mrs. Montoya- *ahem* - or what’s left of them, found by their maid in their home this morning.”

“This is grisly, but besides the gore, why are we needed?” Morgan asked, pointing his pen to the monitor.

“Fourth couple found like this. The first one was over a year ago, then one last month, and then two this week. No DNA on scene, Hindsburg PD has invited us in.” She answers, flipping her finger across her tablet causing the images to switch. This time it showed happy photos of all the families smiling. One family was Asian with four children, another was Hispanic with one, and the last two were white families- one with two children and the other with none. You leaned over Prentiss’s shoulder to look at her files. All four families were of different socioeconomic backgrounds, different neighborhoods, with no discernible connections at first glance.

“Not to state the obvious but the amount of overkill is ridiculous, but suggests they symbolize something for him. And the crossings of race and gender indicates there’s no sexual component to these crimes.” You thought aloud. Spencer built off your thoughts.

“The dismemberment could be symbolic of destroying them. Death wasn’t enough so he literally rips their life apart.” He offered, Rossi nodded.

“Garcia, what about the children?” He asked, his file open to the Asian family, the Zhangs. Garcia nodded

“The families with children in the house, the children were unharmed. The ten-year-old from the Smith’s- the, Uhm, first white family. Told the police that the killer promised not to hurt them if they stayed in bed all night. That the killer, uh, tucked her in.” Garcia explained

“Says here, police found the Zhangs’ four-year-old tucked into a wet bed crying for his parents. Stayed there for two days before his grandparents came to visit.” Prentiss remarked, frowning. “Tucking the children in, keeping them away from the sight of their parents? That reads remorse.”

You had an epiphany.

“Garcia, did the ME report say if dismemberment was pre- or postmortem?” You asked, fingers tracing over the picture of the smiling child. Jackson Zhang, it was labeled.

She flipped through her tablet, wincing when she found the answer, “It was before they died, well most of it. The weapon was a hacksaw. ME’s official call was blood loss, except on Mrs. Montoya- she had a stroke, his notes say she was epileptic and the trauma caused a seizure... And subsequently.”

“Any drugs present?” You asked again. Hotch rose his eyebrows, answering your question.

“No, none. Where are you going with this?” He asked. You nodded.

“I have a point, I promise I’m not that rusty. So if there are no drugs in their system, and hacksaw dismemberment,” You paused at Garcia’s flinch, “Sorry, I have apparently lost my bedside manner. But that’s a brutal way to go. What if the unsub locks them in their room to make them listen?”

“Well, that makes them sadistic.” Morgan nodded, but then his eyes narrowed, “Or what if he sees himself in the children? Needs them to feel their pain. Dismemberment was the first part of the signature, and then the children were additional victims.”

“Ok, but if the connection is children, why kill the Montoya’s if they didn’t have children?” Reid prodded. Prentiss answered him, flipping the page.

“The Montoya’s were last seen in public with their neice who they were watching for the day. The unsub most likely thought she was their child.” She answered. Hotch looked past the group, at the monitor.

“Or he’s devolving. Wheels up in an hour.” Hotch decided, and the team immediately sprung to action. Derek clapped your shoulder on his way by, and Rossi stopped to tell you it was good to have you back, even for a little while.

“If protocol allowed I’d ask you to come with us, but-” He started, and you finished for him.

“But you already bent protocol letting me sit in on the briefing. It was nostalgic.” You nodded, understanding as you followed him out. He nodded.

“We miss having you around. Between you and JJ, we’re down two good profilers.” Hotch nodded to you, stopping in front of his office. You just smiled.

“How’s Jack?” You asked, this time Hotch actually smiled.

“He gets better every day. Right now, he’s obsessed with Ironman. He’s already talking about being Ironman for Halloween.” Hotch answered, talking about Jack was one of the few times Hotch was ever fully open. You smiled and nodded.

“I’m more of a Captain America fan myself.” You laughed, imagining Jack in an Ironman costume- even though it was the last thing Tony Stark’s ego needed. Rossi passed by.

“Captain America, now that’s old school.” He laughed, winking at you as he slipped out of his office.

“Well, I’ll get out of your hair. Good luck on the case.” You nodded, smiling at the two of them. Rossi patted your arm, and Hotch simply nodded to you. So with one last smile, you descended into the bullpen. You first stopped by Prentiss and Derek’s desks, receiving two tight hugs. Both making you promise to actually call this time. Next was Reid, who hugs were always just a bit looser but just as comforting- you always thought it was his smell, as he tended to smell like a mix of aftershave and new books.

“You know, I’ve been keeping up with your reading lists.” You smiled, tapping the latest hardback on his desk, “I’ll be calling more, we can have book club. And you can answer all my questions about all these scientists that I’ve never heard of.”

He smiled that awkward grin, nodding, “Sounds like a plan.”

“Be careful on this case!” You called over your shoulder as you moved onto Garcia who was waiting impatiently at your old desk, “What did you think I’d forget?”

“Just wanted to make sure you knew you weren’t getting away without a goodbye.” She grinned, already wrapping her arms around your neck and squeezing. You accepted it gratefully, letting her rock back and forth. Finally, you patted her gently on the back, gasping out.

“Garcia, I need to breathe, babes.”

She quickly let go, “Sorry, sorry.”

“You know now that I’m not ‘missing’ anymore, you’re gonna have to stop hacking my computer. My SA is getting suspicious.” You rose your eyebrows as she used her purple painted pinky finger to wipe a tear out from under her eye. She nodded, smiling, the matching purple lipstick accentuating white teeth.

“I’ll stop hacking, but your gonna have to answer your phone- or at the very least my emails.” She demanded, poking your arm. You chuckled, it was your turn to nod. Without any warning, she threw herself on you again, squeezing you tightly. “Just so you know, you don’t have to wait another year to visit again.”

“I know, I know.” You assured, squeezing her back. It was a tender moment, only interrupted by a sudden voice behind you.

“Agent (Y/L/N), I need you to come with me.” You whipped around, jaw dropped to find Natasha waiting patiently, the smallest smirk on her lips at your shock. “Leave’s been cut short.”

“Oh, hey, Natasha.” You smiled, eyebrows crinkling at her sudden appearance, then noticing your old team gathering around. “Morgan, I won’t be needing that cab now.”

“This is my co-worker, Natasha. Apparently, I’m getting called in as well.” You nodded. Watching them all shake her hands.

“I’m sorry to steal her away from her. But we need her sooner than we thought we would.” The spy apologized, smiling at each team member. The rest of the team nodded, watching her apprehensively- like you they all knew how to spot a dangerous person.

“Stay safe guys!” You called, giving Penelope one last squeeze as you followed Natasha out. You patted Spencer’s arm as you walked past him. Right before you exited the BAU, you turned back around giving them each one more smile and nod. They all returned them as the glass door shut behind you. And once again, you were an agent of SHIELD.

Natasha was already strutting away, a playful smile on her lips as she teased, “Co-worker?”

You rolled your eyes, catching up to her, “Well, I know how you feel about the f-word. Now, lets get to work.”

________

wow people actually asked to be tagged in this so

taglist: @irishfaulk97 @viarogers

#marvel x criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #mcu x reader #spencer reid x reader #captain america x reader

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imagine-lcorp · 4 years

Text

To Be a Hero (Part IV)

A/N: Hi everybody!!Been a while, uh? Fortunately, here it is! the last part of this series!! Really happy to finally finish this, I hope you guyes enjoyed it, as always let me know what you think and kudos to the people that requested this and the next chapters, love you all!

Lena Luthor & Metahuman Daugther R//Word Count: 1,964

- Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Full Text -

-------------------------------------------------

It was midnight when Lena received the first call that was about to turn her life around.

It had been a couple of months after the attack of the Lost Sons of Liberty and she was still getting used to the silence in her own house. A silence that was plagued with echoes of chattering and laughter of someone that was no longer there. And Lena did not believe in the supernatural but she could have sworn she had seen the ghost of you a couple of times already. It was hard trying to sleep with your silhouette adorning the door frames and your voice calling her in a muffled whisper.

So she rolled on the bed and took her phone from the nightstand after the third ring, mostly so she could stop the noise of it and hear another voice that wasn't the ghost of yours.

"Lena?" She hear from the other side once she answered, not bothering to look at the number ID.

"What is it, Alex?" Lena recognized her voice but couldn't identify its urgency at first.

"I'm sorry I woke you up."

"Don't worry, I'm sure there's something going on so, what is it?" Lena asked hoping there would be something at least interesting to distract her mind.

"There is indeed something going on, but I need you to come to the DEO." She heard Alex sigh. "It's about (Y/N)."

At the sound of your name Lena jolted fully awake from her bed. "What about (Y/N)?"

"I would like to explain it to you, but I think it's better if you see it for yourself."

A thousand things crossed Lena's mind in that single moment and only one strong enough to set her into motion. Hope.

"I'm on my way." She finally said.

When Lena arrived, she was taken to the conference room at the DEO. Alex, Winn, J'onn and Kara were already there, looking at the screens and reading papers as if they were getting ready for a new mission. They almost didn't see her come in as she spoke.

"Lena-" Kara tried to ease the following conversation.

"What is it?" Lena asked as a manner of a salute, leaving the formalities aside.

None of them was bothered by this as they knew why had decided to come in the first place. She was a worried mother about to do the impossible to have her daughter back.

"A month ago our radars started to record certain signatures of radioactive activity." Alex started and handed Lena the file records as she took a seat near her. "We didn't put much attention to it, after the attack of the Lost Sons of Liberty we thought it may have been a glitch."

"What do you mean a glitch?" They looked at each other briefly in awkward silence as Lena passed the pages and read the reports.

"After the radioactive explosion, they were reading seconds of activity in many other locations." J'onn added.

"Yeah, it was like there were being many mini radioactive explosions everywhere." Winn continued. "I double checked the systems. It wasn't an error."

"All these places..." Lena said, still looking at the reports. "(Y/N) was in all of them at least once."

"We noticed that too." Alex turned to face Kara, encouraging to speak.

"I went to check most of them, to make sure there wasn't something out of the ordinary but in every location there was at least someone telling me they had seen some kind of-" Kara struggled to find a word for a moment. "Ghost."

"Ghost?" Lena lifted her eyes from the papers and looked straight at Kara. She flinched slightly at the intensity of Lena's stare. "Are you really telling me a bunch of strangers saw the ghost of my dead daughter?"

Lena thought it had to be some kind of sick joke. She had come to the DEO against all reason, holding some hope in her heart that there would be a kind of miracle that could erase the past weeks of longing and solitude, or at least something that could help her ease the pain of your absence. She certainly hadn't come to hear about the undead. She had enough with the traces of you at home.

"N-no, Lena, no." Kara blurted immediately. "I'm telling you the truth."

"I promise you, Miss Luthor, it is not a game for us." J'onn spoke, her voice calm and collected. Lena imagined he had pondered for a long time before revealing this to her, not wanting to bring her any more sorrow. So she listened and Kara continued.

"At first, we weren't sure about this either but after I visited one of those locations, the music shop in Warden Street, I talked to the owner. He said he was so excited he had finally caught a poltergeist on camera and then showed me his security cameras. Winn, could you?"

"Yes, right." Winn pulled his laptop from the table and after a few seconds the screens in the conference room were on and displaying the security footage from inside the shop.

Lena's eyebrows were going up slowly as she watched second by second the images on the screens. There was a circle of light forming in the middle of the shop, then there was a small explosion, a strong pulse coming from inside the light, expanding and contracting until Lena could see some sort of figure emerging from it. It all looked like a bundle of cables moving and trying to find a way to hold themselves onto the air until Lena realized it had the resemblance of a human body.

"I used the DEO system to identify more security cameras that could have been near this locations. I put the few videos I was able to collect in chronological order and while revising them, well, I think we found more of (Y/N)'s ghost. Look."

As Winn showed each video, the figure coming and forming from these little explosions was taking better shape. Lena could see it now. The nervous system, the bones, the muscles showing progressively like it was a puzzle finding its own form, its own body.

"Lena, we think (Y/N)'s trying to come back." Alex said. "We just haven't figured out how."

The first time Lena ever held you in her arms she had feared for a moment she wouldn't be a good mother. Scared that she couldn't protect you from the evils of the world, scared that she could hurt you too. After all, what did she really know about motherhood? But she loved you. She had loved you the first instant she ever knew about your existence and even more the moment she saw you. You had looked so tiny and fragile once you came into this world that she had sworn to protect you no matter the cost. So that was what she was gonna do.

"Then we will." She assured, more to herself than to anyone else in the room, and they all set to work.

Needless to say, it was complicated task. One day you would be back at the music shop and the next you would be on another corner of the world. There were also many times when Lena returned home hoping she would catch any sign of your silhouette or hear your voice. But your appearances were too erratic and too short to even recreate an ordered pattern. Lena had never seen something like this, not even when you had first tried your powers.

"We have to give her time." Lena suddenly said one evening as she and the rest of the team watched the last video Winn had been able to retrieve of you.

"Uh, how much?" Winn asked a bit confused. "Like a week or something?"

She remembered the initial diagnosis the DEO had given about your powers. The ability to travel from one place to another at will by disassembling and reassembling your own cells at will. Lena guessed you were finally learning the cellular part of that while pulling yourself together.

"Just time." Lena assured with a little and confident smile. "She is figuring it out."

They followed your every move after that. Your mom was hopeful every time they were able to catch you on camera as you looked more and more like a whole body.

Sooner or later, she thought, she would have you in her arms again and, after weeks of following you, Lena went to get a peaceful night of sleep. She never imagined, however that, while they were waiting patiently for your return, the wait for you was already over that same night...or day.

It had been during the late evening when Diana felt the sudden change of energy inside the room. She had been in the Louvre, taking care of the final details in the pieces for the next exhibit, when she felt the air turn heavier and had thanked the gods no one else had been there to see what occurred next.

There was a small explosion in the middle of the room as a tangled figure emerged from the light. Diana had to cover her eyes for a moment to be able to see nerves and veins, bones, muscles and skin, all finding their way and wrapping around to form a human figure. It all finished in seconds and with another flash of light as your body fell heavily to the floor and Diana was finally able to recognize you. She ran to your side, making sure you were in fact you and you hadn't suffered any other kind of injury.

"(Y/N)? Can you hear me?" Diana took you gently on her lap and tried to wake you up.

You opened your eyes slowly, trying to adjust to the newfound light and focused them on her. If you hadn't felt so tired and out of breath you would had slapped yourself on the forehead in annoyance. You weren't suppose to be this far from home.

"Why France?" Diana heard you say with an annoyed but happy grunt before you fainted.

That's when the second call came in.

It had been two in the morning when Lena jolted awake and grabbed her phone imagining it would be Kara or Alex, or someone else at the DEO, to finally tell her you were here. When she answered she heard a familiar voice just not one she had expected.

"Diana?" Lena frowned a bit in confusion. She and diana were good friends and she was not unused to her calls but this was different. She sounded different.

"I'm sorry if I wake you up but you need to come." And with that Lena knew. "It's (Y/N). She's back."

It may have been the fastest trip Lena Luthor ever took in her life. With the help of Supergirl, she was able to reach Diana's apartment in less than an hour. Lena sat beside you as you laid in Diana's bed. Diana had explained to them what had happened at the museum and how you had been sleeping since. She looked at you, the slow rhythm of your respiration and the features of your face. She almost didn't believe you were there.

Then Lena saw you take a deep breath and open your mouth slightly.

"Am I in trouble?" You mumbled a moment after.

"Not yet, young lady, but we'll be having a long conversation about playing the hero." She managed to say, keeping the tears at bay and touching your face gently. "Just wait till we get home, sweetheart."

"Yeah, sounds about right, mom." You said with a little smile playing on your lips. You could be a hero any other day but, for now, it was enough to be back.

#lena luthor #imagine lena luthor #lena luthor imagine #lena luthor imagines #to be a hero #part iv #daughter reader #daughter!reader #metahuman!reader #metahuman reader #superhero reader #superhero!reader #luthor reader #mama luthor #lena luthor & daughter reader

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lilacmoon83 · 3 years

Text

Lightning in a Bottle

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 20: Off Radar, Pt 2

"Doctor...I'm not sure the patients can take much more. We risk losing them if we continue at this voltage," one of the technicians warned.

"We are not stopping," the doctor replied. He was short, with glasses and dark blond hair. His eyes were cold and unfeeling, as he examined the raw data. His life's work had come down to this. He had always walked a thin line between medicine and what was considered very fringe, experimental practices within the field of medicine. Before now though, much of his work was theoretical. He had never had the funding or clearing to conduct his experiments on living specimens. Especially such intriguing specimens.

He didn't know what had happened up on that plane, but the people that came back were definitely different than they were before. That's where he came in. They wanted and needed to know if the reported gifts these people might have now could be used, exploited and most importantly controlled at will.

"Keep proceeding as planned," he said, as he went upstairs to his office, while the patients were continued to be put through hell.

~*~

Henry was still feverish, but the fever reducer medicine and addition of ice packs had brought him down out of the danger zone for the moment. He wasn't out of the woods yet, but he seemed to be calmer, though he was still muttering various phrases in Spanish.

"I would say this is more evidence that something indirect is going on here. I've never seen anything like it," Regina mentioned to them quietly.

"You think he has a mental link to one of the passengers and he's feeling what is happening to them?" David whispered.

"It sounds insane...but there is nothing wrong with Henry besides this fever. Nothing else makes any sense," she replied.

"Then we have to hope Emma finds this man and helps him. That's the only thing that will help Henry," Margaret said, as David put his arm around her shoulder.

"Emma won't let us down," David assured her with a kiss to her hair.

~*~

Killian looked at her out of the corner of his eye and saw that she was preoccupied on her phone.

"Emma...this could lead nowhere. I need to know what's really going on," he finally said, just as he saw her crane her neck.

"Wait…" she said, as he slowed down.

"What do you see?" Killian asked.

"I see the bus...it's up there on that farm," she replied, as he pulled the car off on the side of the road. They got out and observed the structure from a distance, as Emma snapped some photos with her phone. It quickly became very clear that this was no ordinary farm, for they could clearly see armed mercenaries guarding the property.

"Okay...government black site. Come on Emma...level with me. What the hell is this all about?" he asked, a bit crossly. She was about to answer, but saw a vehicle from the property approaching them.

"Crap…" she hissed, as she opened the trunk and grabbed a screwdriver, before driving it into one of the front tires.

"What the hell are you doing!?" he hissed.

"Making it look like an accident that we are pulled over!" she hissed back, as two armed men got out of the now stopped vehicle.

"What seems to be the problem?" one of the men asked.

"Flat tire…" Emma called. Killian looked at her and went to the trunk to pull out the spare.

"Fortunately, we have a spare and then we'll be on our way," he said, gauging the reaction of the two men. They didn't give much away, but it was clear there was no trust. Whatever they were guarding...they didn't want anyone coming near the property. Unnervingly, Killian changed the tire under their watch and once it was finished, they got back in the car. He nodded to them and started the engine, as he slowly drove off. They found another enclave and pulled off again. Killian looked behind them and got out of the car when he was satisfied that they were not following them. Instead, it seemed like they were heading back to the property and there was much movement.

"Okay...we just found a government black site. Out with it, Emma," he said. She sighed and looked at him, before proceeding to tell him everything.

~*~

"Doctor…" one of the subordinates called.

"What is going on?" he asked.

"We have reason to believe this location may be compromised," the man replied. The doctor cursed inwardly and retreated into his office.

"I will contact headquarters…" he hissed. He didn't like the idea of having to relocate everything and delay his experiments further, but getting caught would ensure no experiments at all.

"See to it that our operation continues for now. The less interruptions, the better," he said, as he sat down at his desk and made the call.

~*~

"And that's why we're here," Emma finished with her explanation and carefully studied his features to gauge his reaction.

"You think Henry is sick...because of one of the missing passengers?" Killian asked.

"I know what it sounds like...but these Callings, we've saved people. We've helped people with them," Emma replied.

"You also almost screwed up my career as well," he reminded her.

"And I didn't force you to take the fall for that! These things...whatever they are...I got that one wrong," she said. He was about to say more, but they saw the car with the mercenaries from before approaching again.

"Get in...they won't be as friendly this time," Killian said, as they got in and a bullet clipped the mirror.

"Bloody hell!" Killian cried, as they fled and Emma sent the photos to her brother, before calling him while they made their escape.

~*~

"A government black site?" David asked, as he was in the hallway on the phone with Emma, as Margaret stepped out with him in time to hear that. He looked at her in concern and her arms went around his waist.

"Are you okay?" David asked, as he continued to listen and then sighed.

"Okay, thanks Emma...I got the photos. I think I know what I need to do next," he replied, as he hung up the phone and looked down at her.

"She found the missing passengers?" Margaret asked.

"She only saw one outside, being led inside a red door, but she did see one of the vans there on this property, which was crawling with mercenaries, possibly military," David replied.

"Oh my God...then they might have them, after all," she realized.

"It's possible...the mercenaries were wearing a patch on their uniform for something called the Unified Dynamics System, but I haven't had a chance to look into the company yet. Emma's going back to the station to do so...but," he said.

"But?" she asked.

"There might be only one way to find out more...but I would need to leave for a while and I don't want to," he said.

"I don't want you to either...but if it can help Henry…" she replied.

"Then I have to try. I just don't know if it will help and I hate the idea of leaving you both," he replied.

"I know...me too, but I also know that you're doing so to save one of our babies," she said, as she slid her arms around his neck and rested her head against his shoulder.

"I know that you're our hero and that you'll be out there trying to save our family," she assured. He looked into her eyes.

"I love you so much…" he said, as he pressed his lips to hers in a passionate kiss.

"I won't be long," he said, as they went back into the room. Henry was still sweating and restless. David kissed him on the forehead and then kissed Margaret one more time, before hurrying out.

~*~

Emma and Killian arrived back at the station and he parked the car.

"You didn't have to hide it, you know...this thing," he said.

"I just told you that I hear voices in my head and that my nephew might be channeling something that's happening to another missing passenger," Emma replied.

"And from anyone else...I wouldn't believe it. But from you...I would and I've never betrayed your trust," he reminded her.

"I know…" she admitted, as they went inside and they began to research the Unified Dynamics System.

"That logo matches what was on the uniform," he said.

"And they employ special ops for security," she replied.

"Looks like they do a lot more than that...a company with a lot of tentacles," he agreed.

"Then I guess we wait to hear from David," she said.

"Wait...what is your brother going to do?" Killian asked.

"He's going to confront Vance," she replied.

"That sounds like a terrible idea," he warned.

"He doesn't care. He's a father trying to save his son," she said gravely.

~*~

David arrived at the Department of Homeland Security building and stormed inside, but was immediately stopped by security.

"My name is David Nolan. I was on Flight 828 and I need to see Director Vance, immediately," he demanded.

"Unless you have an appointment, Mr. Nolan, you need to leave," the security guard said, but over the man's shoulder, David saw another man there and attempted to place him. He could have sworn he had seen him before, but couldn't place him.

"You...can you get me in to see Vance?" he asked. Gold smirked.

"Gentlemen, I can take it from here," Gold said, as he hobbled forward on his cane.

"Director Vance will be more than happy to see Mr. Nolan. I can take him there," he said. The guards were reluctant, but had been ordered to obey any orders from this man as if they were Vance's. They stepped aside and David followed the shorter man.

"Have we met before?" David asked.

"Actually, we have not, but I know a great deal about you, Mr. Nolan. A pleasure at last," he said, as he put his hand forth. David looked at him suspiciously, but then shook it with reluctance.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"My name is Mr. Gold," he replied and David's eyes widened, as the elevator door closed.

"Mr. Gold…" he uttered, as he remembered that name from all the legal and financial forms after his mother died. Mr. Gold's pawn shop and holdings had always sent Jefferson to take care of their financial and legal items necessary. But they had never met the actual financial adviser behind it all.

"You...you're our financial adviser?" he asked in disbelief. He made a gesture with his hand that seemed to confirm that.

"What do you have to do with any of this?" David asked.

"Nothing, except that I have been brought in to consult on the mystery of flight 828 and I must say, the whole thing fascinates me," Gold replied.

"Well, it doesn't fascinate me. It might be killing my son," David snapped. Gold frowned.

"That is unfortunate. Perhaps you can explain it to me then," he said, as they arrived on the top floor and David followed him to Vance's office.

"What is this?" Vance asked curiously, as David stormed into his office with Mr. Gold.

"This is about my son and the government abducting passengers," David said.

"What are you talking about?" Vance asked with scrutiny, as David showed him the photos on his phone.

"This...there are ten missing passengers and we think they are being kept at this black site," David answered.

"Know anything about that?" he asked. Vance looked at the photos and then at David.

"No…I'm afraid I don't," Vance replied. David scoffed.

"As if you would tell me if you did. They're doing something to these missing passengers and it's killing my son!" he claimed.

"Mr. Nolan...I don't know what's going on with your son, but I have no idea what you are talking about," Vance said, as a couple security guards arrived.

"Please see Mr. Nolan out," he said. David shrugged the men off and stormed out, but not before giving both men a hard look.

"Send me the coordinates...I'll see what I can do," Gold said, as he handed his card to David. He looked at him one more time, before being led out.

"What the hell is going on?" Vance hissed.

"Possibly the break in all this that we've been waiting for," Gold said.

"All the passengers are accounted for," Vance insisted.

"Are you positive? What do you know about this Unified Dynamics Systems?" Gold questioned. Vance sighed and picked up the phone, but then set it back down.

"I have the coordinates...let's take a drive," Gold suggested and Vance agreed.

~*~

The doctor slammed the phone down and stormed out of his office and down to the lab where the passengers were still withstanding the grueling experimentation.

"We've been ordered to relocate. Prepare to move the patients," he said crossly. He was very unhappy about the orders, as it meant delay in his work, but they had been exposed and couldn't afford to be caught.

~*~

David arrived back at the hospital room, feeling defeated. He had seemingly made no progress with Vance and now had to face his wife and tell her that he had failed.

"David!" Margaret called, as she rushed to him and he hugged her tightly.

"Baby...he's awake and his fever broke," she said, as her face was alight with hope. He became perplexed at that, but hugged her again, before going to their son's bedside.

"You did it…" Margaret said, as she brushed Henry's hair away from his eyes.

"Except I didn't...Vance claimed he knows nothing about the missing passengers. He barely listened to me," David confessed.

"Then...how did the connection between Henry and Anton break?" she wondered.

"I don't know, which means this might not be over. I'm sorry, my darling...I failed," he said.

"No...you absolutely did not fail. Whatever you did...it stopped the threat to our son," she replied.

"But for how long?" he wondered.

"Maybe long enough to find the missing passengers," she said.

"I hope so," he said, as he held her tightly, while Regina checked him over.

~*~

Vance and Gold drove out to the coordinates that David had given them and found a small farm off the beaten path. They pulled up to the property and looked around, before getting out. Vance motioned for his agents to move in and they cased the entire area.

"It's abandoned, Sir!" one of them called back soon after entering the premises.

"Something tells me not for long," Gold mentioned. Vance looked down and spotted something in the dirt. He took a glove out of his pocket and gently picked up the item with it, finding that it was a bandage, complete with blood on it.

"I would say that you're right," Vance said, as everything David had claimed was suddenly starting to come to fruition.

"So...we have missing passengers and it's being hidden from the NSA. That's not easy to do," Vance said.

"It is if the people that are hiding it are from within your own ranks," Gold surmised. That thought disturbed Vance greatly and he was determined to get to the bottom of this now.

~*~

After Henry's temperature returned to normal, he was normal again, like there had never been anything wrong with him in the first place, Regina discharged him and they took him home. Robert brought Olive home that evening and they spent the night all cuddled together in the same bed. David held Margaret close, as the kids slept on either side of them in their bed. Every few moments, Margaret would brush her hand across Henry's forehead just to reassure herself that he was no longer feverish.

"I still feel like I failed...like whatever is going on has only been delayed," he murmured.

"Even if it is...you did not fail, my love and I know you. You don't give up," she replied, as she pecked him on the lips.

"You're right...I won't give up, until I'm sure our family is safe," he promised. She smiled and cuddled against him and they found themselves quickly falling asleep with their kids.

~*~

Killian poured over the maps and photos that they had taken of the small farm that was turning out to be a black op sight and he caught sight of a photo of Emma. He stared at her photo for a moment and sighed, before looking away. Despite his reluctance to get involved in this and initial skepticism of Emma's explanation, they really appeared to be onto something.

"Hey...I just got word. Turns out that Vance went to the farm...and it's deserted now," Emma said, as she came back with fresh coffee.

"Then we were right...they have missing passengers and Vance wasn't involved," Killian said.

"Which kind of puts us back at square one," Emma replied.

"True...but we found them once. We can do it again," he said.

"I hope so...David is certain that we need to find this Anton Garcia or Henry is still in danger," Emma replied.

"If Vance doesn't know about this...that's telling. I mean, the NSA pretty much knows all...unless," Killian said.

"Unless?" she asked.

"Well, if the military wanted to hide it from the NSA, they have their ways," he replied.

"It would make sense that the military would have an interest in the passengers. It's no secret that they've already suggested that we might be a threat to national security," Emma said.

"Still...to break away from the NSA on a matter of supposed National Security violates protocol," he replied.

"Our history is littered with the government doing shady stuff in the name of National Security," she reminded him.

"Very true...let's keep digging into this Unified Dynamics Systems. They seem like the perfect front if there ever was one," he agreed, as they returned to work.

~*~

Anton muttered something unintelligible, as his bed was wheeled into the new underground facility. The doctor oversaw the set up from above and answered his cell phone as it rang.

"Yes…" he answered.

"The interruption was an unfortunate delay, but we will soon be back online and resume our operation," he reported...

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Charming family #AU #Regina Mills #Henry #Emma #Killian #Mr. Gold #Manifest #with a Once twist #romance #adventure #family #drama #Lightning in a Bottle

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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 5 years

Text

A Met Gala one-shot

somewhere, someone in the world wanted to kill us for leaving these clothes on the floor of a college recreation facility.

4.5k of flirty, well-dressed, smut

***

Okay, so maybe I did feel a little bit out of my element. I mean, style was never my thing. Fashion was never my thing. That’s why, after 6 years of really trying to make it, I was selling music--not the hottest trends.

“You’re going to be fine,” Jenna said behind me, her smile big and bright as I stared out the window as the car rolled to a stop.

The weather was beautiful--and I was lucky. Early May in New York City didn’t exactly always lend itself to warmth and sun. And the feathery, pink dress/cape combo I was wearing didn’t exactly lend itself to the most confidence.

I knew the drill. Jenna and Britney had run through things twice already in the short ride from the hotel. I’d get out, wait in line, walk the carpet, greet the co-chairs, head inside. I’d eat some food, mingle with some people, and enjoy the night.

I knew a few people who’d be there. Sophie Turner, Zendaya, even Hailey Baldwin (Bieber? Still not clear on that.) So I’d be fine. I’d be nice and social and it would be fine. That’s what I kept repeating to myself as I heard the door on the other side of the car open and shut quickly.

Britney, my amazing manager and time-keeper for all things Met Gala, seemed to be opening my door before I could even process it. There were chirps of excitement from people gathered nearby, but no camera flashes yet--which was appreciated.

I’d walked red carpets before. In fact, I tripped and caught myself on Saiorse Ronan’s shoulder only six months earlier--so I figured tonight couldn’t be that bad. I stepped out, gaining more noise from the fans who’d gathered to catch glimpses, but I didn’t expect for some screams to break out the way they had.

I was new, after all. My debut album had dropped in the fall, I was still in the middle of my first headlining tour. I wasn’t exactly A-list yet. I was surprised when I even got the invitation in the first place.

And when Moschino offered to dress me, I was even more surprised that I was popping up on people’s radars. And not just people--fashion people.

“Stella Mayfield--walking,” I heard a voice next to me, a woman in a black gown was apparently communicating with whoever (and whatever) was inside the giant tent opening straight ahead. Jenna could sense my nerves--she reached over to rub my shoulder and offer a smile. Thank god I had the two of them, plus Danny, my one and only security guard.

Danny’s job was more of a precaution, I think. I’d yet to be in a situation where people were really rowdy or wild. I mean, there’d be fans gathered outside my hotel on tour and people outside of the venues. But I’d never seen Danny had to launch into action. I mean, I’d never been mobbed or anything.

So I had a buffer. I had Britney and Jenna and Danny all night. We could leave when we pleased, I reminded them. Which I think was more of an out for me if I got too nervous or overwhelmed by all of the fancy clothes and money in one room.

We waited in line, I watched as the photographers and reporters on the side of the big steps would scream people’s names, hoping to get a glimpse or a wave or an answer to a question.

Soon enough, the woman in black--who’d escorted us all the way in--spoke my name into her walkie-talkie and gave me a shove forward. So much for a warning.

I smiled immediately, thankful that people seemed to know who I was (and care), and I posed at the bottom of the stairs for the group of photographers who seemed to be giving me the nicest directions.

“Can you turn this way, Stella?”

“It’s great to see you, Stella, are you excited to be here?”

I chose the woman with the short blonde hair to talk with--she seemed the most approachable and most interested in actually hearing from me. I told her that yes, I was excited to be here, no, I wasn’t bringing a date. Yes, I was dressed in Moschino, and no, I wouldn’t be leaving with anyone.

I did my best to make eye contact with a few of them, Britney had always given that advice for big events like these. She said that when you’re trying to still make a name for yourself, it was good to give answers and be friendly and make them write about you.

I was pulled up the steps, though, by Britney, who gave me some easy directions to pose in two different spots on the stairs. And soon, when I neared the top, I saw the co-chairs--undoubtedly, the people I was most nervous to see.

It wasn’t that they were worlds more famous than me (that didn’t help), it was more that they were the ones who ultimately decided who got to come. Anna Wintour approved the invite list and somehow, I’d been cool enough to not get cut.

My heartbeat was steadily rising, and when I met the final step, Lady Gaga gave me the biggest smile I’d ever been greeted with.

“Stella!” She beamed at me, opening her arms wide to give me a hug. Jenna, Britney, and Danny seemed to stay back. “I’m so glad you’re here! We were so hoping you’d come!”

“It’s so nice to meet you!” I smiled, letting her embrace me. Someone--who I didn’t recognize--was in front of me and schmoozing with Serena Williams. “Thank you so much for having me.”

“Are you kidding me?” She pulled back, apparently surprised by my graciousness. “You’re the hottest thing right now, live it up! It can be weird, I know. Big event, big names. Enjoy yourself tonight. You’re a star!”

I was shocked, really--not just by her beauty and her gown and her niceness, but by the fact that she seemed to say exactly what I needed to hear.

“Darling, so good to meet you,” Anna Wintour greeted me, reaching a hand forward to tug at my long brown hair. “Absolutely love your gown!”

I was getting pushed along--the line behind me was apparently longer than I’d realized and people were eager to get inside. Serena Williams and Alessandro Michele seemed to be caught up with someone (extravagant makeup and a blonde wig made it hard to tell who it was), so I looked up at Britney, who gave me a shrug when she saw that I was stuck, and I sidestepped the mystery guest.

Harry Styles, clad in a black get up, offered me a small smile and leaned in to hug me, speaking over the crowd as his lips grazed my ear. “Great to meet you, you look beautiful,” he said.

I pulled back slightly, a flush rising on my cheeks as I cursed myself for being starstruck at an event where my main job was to just act like I belonged.

“You do too,” I offered back, immediately wondering if he’d appreciate being called beautiful. Was my 24-year-old girl showing too much? He smiled back and I moved on. We’d met in passing once before, I knew Niall a little bit better after writing a song with him in 2018, but we’d never actually spoken.

“Your album is amazing, it’s seriously been the soundtrack to my life lately. Listen to it all the time, really,” he nodded, his eyes sweeping over my face.

“Seriously? I’m so flattered, thank you!”

He pulled his eyes away from me then, smiling at the person behind me, who clearly wasn’t appreciative of my loitering. A pang of disappointment washed over me, but he brought his eyes back down. “We’ll talk later, yeah? Find me inside, or I’ll find you!”

“Sure, yeah!” I nodded, getting shoved away from him by the moving line before I could even give him another hug.

I let out a breath, happy to have more space from other bodies and thankful for the fact that Jenna, Britney, and Danny were once again by my side.

“You did it,” Britney smiled, clapping her hands together. “Walked your first Met Gala stairs. And you shined,” she said.

The first thing I did inside was get a drink. Not only because I needed one, but also because they were free. Not just your typical open bar free--these were top-shelf, well-made, served with a smile cocktails that had these pretty pink straws that poked out of the top.

Whatever Jenna had ordered for me tasted like lemon. I wasn’t mad.

The dinner was delicious--I was seated with people I barely knew, but I was fine enough once I’d had some liquor and some food. I’d popped by the table in the back--where everyone’s entourage was seated--to visit my three staff and make sure they were fine.

But just as I’d expected, they were more than entertained by the food, the drink, and the company. So when I walked back to my seat and spotted Harry incredibly close to my table, I sipped the end of my drink (strong, not well mixed at the bottom), and took a deep breath.

“Hi,” I said quickly, offering him a smile as he pulled his eyes from his current conversation partner and brought them to meet mine. In a typical situation, I’d feel sorry for interrupting and might have even avoided it altogether, but something pulled me towards talking to Harry again.

Maybe because he was the only person (aside from Lady Gaga) who’d made me feel completely comfortable all night.

He said his goodbyes to the man in the red suit before opening his arms to hug me again. “You’re alive still!”

“I am!” I laughed a little, mainly because I was surprised I’d lasted this long. Parties (especially with this many famous people) were exhausting. I wasn’t sure if he’d had four redbulls already or was just filled with adrenaline, but he seemed awake and excited and like he was having the time of his life.

“Me too, I’m also alive, which is good.” He nodded seriously, stepped a bit closer to me to let someone pass by us.

The lights were dim--we were in the strange space between dinner and dessert. There were dancers on stage and music that played along to their movements, but the entertainment hadn’t yet truly started.

“You must be exhausted,” I said, extremely aware of the fact that his arm brushed against mine.

He let out a laugh and shrugged his shoulders. “Long day, but it’s fine. I can sleep tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” I asked, pulling my head back in confusion. I was under the impression that I’d be home and in bed by 1am. At least, that was the limit I’d subconsciously set for myself.

“There’s a few after parties,” he nodded. “I’m hosting one with Gucci at The Fleur Room. You’ll have to come!”

I felt stupid for a second, stupid for not realizing that of course there’d be after parties and of course I should go. I mean, in all honesty, this was work. I needed to mingle and network and meet celebrities and get my name out there.

“Right,” I said, trying to play it cool. “Of course, I’d love to!”

“I’d love to see you there,” he said, letting his eyes pause on mine for a second longer than usual. “Your album is seriously amazing. Where’d you record?”

“Mostly L.A.,” I said. “I’ve been working a lot with Ricky Reeves, he produced most of it.”

“You did a song with Tom Hull, too, right? He did a song on my album!”

“I did!” I smiled, I’d completely forgotten that we had that in common. Tom Hull--Kid Harpoon--had worked with a slew of amazing artists. When he reached out and asked if I wanted to work on something with him, I was touched.

“He’s a genius,” Harry said simply. “Total genius with lyrics.”

“I know--I swear to God the song we wrote took us like ten minutes and it’s one of my favorites.”

“Try For It, right?”

I nodded--trying to mask my excitement that he knew the name of my song. I knew he’d said he liked my album, but everyone says that when you release your first major-label project. A part of me wondered if he’d really been listening to it as much as he said.

“I have to say, though, I think Break Me is my favorite.”

I laughed, once again completely flattered that not only did he know my album, but apparently, he had favorites. I leaned up to speak into his ear--the music was louder and people were cheering for the dancers on stage. “It’s my favorite, too, but don’t tell anyone. Kinda ruins the whole songwriter I love all of my songs equally thing.”

Around 11pm I needed a break. I dipped out of the main ballroom and headed down a hallway, thankful that Danny was distracted by Jenna and Britney to give me some space.

My heels on the floor echoed as I walked--I didn’t know where I was headed, but I wasn’t worried about finding my way back. I turned down another hallway, which left me in an empty exhibit room.

But that’s when I heard a laugh.

I peered around some sort of statue (again, music was my thing, not other forms of art), and saw Harry, slumped against a wall with a phone pressed up to his ear.

He looked up and met my eyes, offering a wave as he informed the person on the other end that he had to go. I tried to motion at him that I was sorry for walking in, but he pulled the phone from his ear, pressed a button, and shoved it back in his pocket.

He’d changed--his top was now white and a big, almost goofy looking bow-tie adorned his neck.

“Hi, sorry, I was just,” I motioned back down the hall that I came from. “Trying to get some air.”

He let out a laugh. “My thoughts exactly.”

I was quiet for a second, still feeling guilty for walking in and hoping that he didn’t think I’d purposely followed him back here. But he spoke again before I could voice any of those thoughts.

“This is your first Met Gala, right?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, but I didn’t say more. I could tell he was thinking.

“Mine too--pretty busy. That was my mum, asking if it was going alright. She just woke up back home.”

He kept his eyes focused on something past me--I could tell he was thinking more to himself than he was saying out loud.

“Were you nervous for today?” I asked suddenly, my voice still quiet so as to not echo throughout the room.

He brought his eyes back to me at this and a grin overtook his face. “Are you kidding? I was practically in the fetal position before the carpet.”

“Are you serious?” I laughed in response. “You seem so,” I searched for the right words. “Put together and calm and used to it.” I didn’t mention that he looked so attractive, was so talented, and I was practically on cloud nine due to the amount of conversing we’d done.

“You’ll get used to it,” he nodded, his smile smaller now but just as genuine. He gave me a look as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.

Am I cut out for this type of stuff?

“I’m somewhat used to it,” he said slowly, but he looked down at his high waisted pants. “Still getting used to this type of thing, though,” he plucked at the waistband, his eyebrows furrowed together to get a laugh out of me.

“I’ll get used to it,” I nodded my head, appreciative of his humor and his groundedness.

“And until then, you’re doing a great job of faking it.”

I was chatting and laughing and drinking with Alexa Chung in the corner of the big athletic complex when Harry sidled up beside me.

“What’re you drinking?” He asked, leaning in closer to me so I could hear him--once more--over the music. Alexa watched with a smile as I held my drink up to him, offering a taste.

He took it from me, and I watched as his lips pressed against the same place that mine had just been. He scrunched his nose to more accurately judge, and when he handed it back to me, he smiled.

“Whatever it is, I want one, and it looks like you could use another.”

He found me afterwards, two identical drinks in his hands and a smile on his face as he pulled me aside to cheers to a successful night for the two of us. And we drank the drinks together, admittedly faster than we probably planned. And then we had another.

And then I danced beside him as Mark Ronson played different songs and we took stupid selfies with people who popped over to say hello. I’d lost Danny long before--though I assumed I was in his sight--when Britney and Jenna said goodnight. They told me to have fun, enjoy myself, and most of all, don’t end up naked or black out or anything that would end up on the internet tomorrow (this) morning.

But that wasn’t me. I wasn’t that type of person.

“Do you need a break for a minute?” Harry asked, his arm snaking around my waist as I smiled up at Alexa as she said something about Cher’s performance earlier.

I looked up at him quickly, his face was close to mine and his lips brushed against the side of my temple again when he spoke. “I could use a break, is what I should say.”

Alexa seemed to not mind at all, in fact, I could have sworn that she gave him a playful wink as he draped his arm over my shoulder and I started to head away from the commotion.

“A water, a snack, all of it sounds nice,” he laughed, bringing his eyes down to me as we climbed down the stairs from the DJ booth. “And maybe one more of those lemon things.”

“I have no idea what’s in them,” I laughed. “So if we’re ridiculously hungover, don’t blame me.”

“I would never,” he laughed, letting his hip bump into mine somewhat as we made our way for the door.

A man in a suit--not Danny, but who looked like he might have been Harry’s version of Danny--opened the door for us right as we approached, leading us into a hallway with bright yellow chairs that lined the wall. Celebrity guests were seated all along, drinking and chatting and taking obnoxious pictures in their best-attempt at Camp.

It was then that I caught sight of Danny, who said something to the man who’d been holding the door open, and gave me a subtle wave as Harry withdrew his arm from around my shoulders.

I waved to Joe Jonas (who seemed to smile when he saw me) and felt, for the first time all night, like I actually was starting to belong.

“Still a little crowded,” he said, looking each direction down the hall. One way was towards the entrance--cocktail tables lined with flashy tablecloths and extraordinary floral arrangements. He looked to his right, nodded his head in that direction, and then looked down at me again.

He walked away from me, and I turned back to give Danny some kind of please don’t follow me look before falling into step beside him.

“What’s down here?” I asked, a laugh escaping my lips as we headed farther down the dark hallway.

“No idea,” he shook his head, a smile on his face as he licked his lips. “But somewhere to sit and take this bow-tie off and just talk for a second would be nice.”

And so we found a room that had a desk and a blackboard and Harry decided to write our names in chalk in big, obnoxious, somewhat drunk handwriting.

He sat on the desk then, loosened his bow-tie, and smirked. “It’s been nice to get to know you tonight.”

I smiled, hoping that if my cheeks looked red, I could blame it on the alcohol. “Thanks for making me feel so welcome,” I said.

He smiled, holding the red fabric in his hands. “I should say the same--I was definitely freaked out to be here and be co-chairing, but I would say it’s been successful.”

“Me too,” I nodded assuredly, thankful that I’d long turned in my feathery pink ensemble for a gold and shimmery gown--one that showed just enough cleavage and was markedly more convenient to dance in.

I wouldn’t have done what I did next if he didn’t look up at me with an innocent--yet somehow completely daring--smile. In two steps, I was stood between his legs, my hands on his face, and my lips against his.

And in half a second, his hands were around my waist, pulling me closer to him. We stayed like that for a minute, but soon he stood, stepped me backwards, and flipped our positions. Now I was against the desk, he worked one hand at the back zipper of my dress, and my hands were fiddling with the buttons of his shirt.

My thoughts were racing and my pulse was too. He deepened the kiss and I shrugged out of the top of my dress. When I felt the fabric of his shirt against my chest, I was reminded, ever so timely, that I’d opted to be braless all night.

Harry didn’t seem to mind, however, because soon his hand was around my breast. I made a noise when we connected, which must have turned him on even more, because he suddenly started working at removing his own shirt to be less fabric between us.

His lips were warm and soft and something about the possibility of being walked in on made me terrified and excited all at once. He made me nervous and unsure and hyperaware, but he also made me feel comfortable and like I fit in.

I kissed him harder--thankful for the fact that he seemed to be handling his pants on his own. They looked extremely difficult to get on, so getting them off was sure to be quite the task. I tried not to worry, though, and it didn’t take much to distract me because he pulled away from me for a second.

“You’ve looked beautiful all night and this is not normally what I do,” he said, his brows dipped inward as he tried to explain himself.

In all honesty, I wasn’t really worried and I wasn’t even thinking about how many times he’d done this before. But now I was.

He must have seen the look on my face, because he moved his head to get a better look at my face. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

“No,” I said, probably too quickly. “It’s fine--I just, I don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

He let out a laugh, his eyes scanning over my face once more. “I’d be so honored,” he teased.

He kissed me again, this time, his hands were searching my body, searching for skin and searching for connection. I let them wander, finding the hem of my dress before pulling it away from my skin. I pulled my mouth away from his for a second--a dip in his brows told me he didn’t appreciate that--to slide his pants down from his hips.

I could feel his erection against me as he worked at the final buttons of his shirt, and I let my hands find it as he kept his lips connected to mine. He let out a sharp exhale at that, making a noise of pleasure as I palmed him over the fabric of his boxer briefs.

He pulled away from me quickly, taking me by the hands to stand me up. His fingers tugged at the fabric of my dress--somewhere, someone in the world wanted to kill us for leaving these clothes on the floor of a college recreation facility.

I didn’t have much time to think about that, though, because after Harry shed his shoes and his undershirt, he picked me up and set me back on the table, nodding his head in direction to lay back.

His mouth was against me in seconds, his fingers pulling away the thin strap of my thong as his tongue worked against my center. It was jarring, really--not just because of the sensation, but because of how quick he had my back arched and his name floating from my lips.

He seemed to like that, though, as he inserted two fingers to pump in and out of me while his tongue drew abstract circles.

“Yeah, baby?” his voice was deep and throaty. “Feel good?”

I let out a moan once more, reaching a hand down to grab at his hair, keeping his tongue pressed against me. He let out a cheeky laugh, my dependence on him seemed to feed his ego.

I let my own hand wander to my chest, playing with my own nipple. When he saw this, he muttered under his breath. “Shit, Stella.”

He pulled away quickly, pulling his boxers down to reveal what I’d been waiting for. I sat up on the desk, scooching closer to the edge to give him better access. He held his own hand around his shaft, and he smiled up at me before letting his tip enter slowly.

He immediately let out a moan, his hands reaching around to make contact with my butt--pulling me closer to the edge so he could go deeper inside of me.

“Fuck, Stella, you’re so wet for me,” he breathed into my ear.

Maybe it was the fact that we were in some sort of athletic office--maybe it was the fact that I could get in so much trouble for this. But whatever it was made it even more sensual to feel his cock up against my clit as he moaned in my ear.

“As soon as we got here I knew I wanted my night to end with you,” he said--which struck me as sweet and incredibly sexy at the same time.

I reached my arms up to his neck, holding him close to me as he rocked in and out. “You feel so good,” I told him.

“Yeah?” He said, a smirk on his face again as he leaned in to press a kiss to my lips. “You’re so fucking tight, baby.”

He started to go faster, his hands still keeping my butt close enough that he could hit the right angle. “I want to fucking fill you up, Stella,” he said, his voice lower and deeper than before. “You feel so fucking good all around me.”

“Fuck me, then, Harry,” I told him, and the direction seemed to get him even more excited. He pumped faster, the desk beneath us started to squeak, which caused laughter on both parts, and soon, he moaned into my ear as I felt him come inside of me.

He kissed me again, deep and genuine, and then pulled away and laughed. “Fucking someone in a school office where we might get caught. That’s pretty camp.”

#harry styles #harry styles met gala #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles drabble

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backtothestart02 · 4 years

Text

Fallen Star - 12/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: I’m ngl...this chap def gets your hopes up. Enjoy! lol

*for @itzvickilou

*Many thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing.

...

Chapter 12 -

Iris spent nearly the rest of the night almost calling or texting Barry Allen.

Her heart ached for him hours after he’d left. Her body felt his phantom touch from when their hands had brushed. She couldn’t shake the feeling if she tried.

The worst part is she knew he wouldn’t be able to resist coming if she called for him, if she said she needed him. She could probably even seduce him if she wanted to, if she went about it the right way. It wouldn’t solve anything come morning, but at least she would remember what it felt like again to be alive.

But the ache she felt during the night wasn’t even for the lovemaking. It was just his presence. It made her feel whole and safe. They didn’t spend every night together when they were dating, but they spent enough time in general for her to never fear for her safety.

If he was just in the living room… Or hugging her, holding her until she fell asleep…

Would that be so wrong? Would it really make things that complicated?

Yes, Linda’s voice sounded in her head, and she knew her very wise best friend was right.

Letting her very recent ex-boyfriend, who she was still very much in love with, into her apartment when she was feeling vulnerable was a bad idea all around.

So, at 6am and with barely a wink to her sleep count, Iris called Linda Park instead and invited her out for coffee.

Linda yawned onto her hot coffee cup, then blinked several times in an effort to keep both eyes open.

“Tell me, West. What was so pressing that we had to go out two hours before work starts? I don’t know about you, but I need my beauty sleep.”

Iris was quiet for a while, biting down on her bottom lip while she tried to figure out what to say.

Her silence seemed to tip Linda off, because she straightened in her seat and asked with her chin atop folded hands, “Is this Barry-related?”

Iris met her eyes. She didn’t say anything or even nod, but her insides were screaming, and it clearly came through in her sad-eyed gaze.

Linda reached across the table to grip one of her friend’s hands.

“Tell me what happened.”

Iris sighed and decided to go all in.

“Well, for starters I almost got mugged last night.”

Linda’s jaw dropped. “Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting that.”

“The Flash saved me.”

“Did he now…” Linda remarked softly, taking note of how Iris didn’t seem annoyed by that fact.

She nodded.

“Anything else?”

She didn’t even pause before blurting, “Barry came by to see me later to check on how I was doing.”

Linda’s eyes went wide. “Did he come in?”

Iris shook her head. “He just wanted to see if I was okay… It was too… I mean, who knows what would’ve happened if I’d let him come in.” She threw her hands about.

“Mmhmm.” Linda watched her closely.

“What?”

“Did you tell him to leave?”

“No. I wasn’t mad he came. It was…it was soft and tender and it… God, it hurt so much to watch him go.” She covered her eyes to hide the tears welling up there. “It made me realize…” She caught her breath.

“Realize what, honey?” Linda asked, shuffling closer and wrapping her arm around her shoulders.

“That I still love him.”

She chuckled lightly, soothingly even, as she pressed her head to her Iris’.

“I could have told you that. It’s written all over your face. His too.”

“No, I know, I’m sure it… Well, it’s just…” She huffed.

“What?” Linda asked gently.

“The first time we said I love you was on that rooftop.”

Linda’s eyes went wide again, and she pulled away slightly.

“Seven months and it took you that long to-” She was cut off by Iris’ meaningful look. “Sorry, it’s just hard to believe. I mean, you knew how he felt. He must’ve been dying, waiting for you to say it.”

Iris bit her lip again. “Yeah… I just… I hate that it took us breaking up for me to say it. Like, what good is it now? What does it matter? We’re exes. It’ll only hurt him knowing that I love him but am still choosing my work over him.”

“But…you’re not.” Her brows furrowed.

“He broke up with you because he thinks that your work will always come first.”

Iris blinked, that dawning revelation never having occurred to her. Or to Linda for that matter until right that moment.

“If you want him…prove him wrong.”

Iris licked her lips.

“You think that’s all it would take? He’d want to be with me again, and he’d drop this ridiculous ultimatum about stopping me from doing my job if the story is remotely dangerous to investigate?”

Probably not, Linda thought to herself, but Iris looked so hopeful now she couldn’t bring herself to say anything that might fill her eyes with tears again or break her heart.

“You never know until you try, right?”

Iris lit up, beaming ecstatically.

“You know what, Lin? You’re right. Barry is way more important to me than any story. If he just understood that, maybe he could appreciate what I’m trying to do, and then we could get back together!”

Linda smiled. She couldn’t help it. Iris’ giddy happiness was contagious.

“Go get him, girl.” She winked, and Iris slid off the stool, smiling brightly.

“I’ll see you later, Lin.” She smiled and twirled as she headed out the door.

Linda relaxed into her chair and took another sip of her coffee that had gone from hot to lukewarm. There was a buzz from her cell phone, indicating an email notification. She pulled the device from her pocket and hit the email app to see what was so important.

Her heart fell when she saw it, even though she knew she should be ecstatic. Not only for herself, but for Iris too.

It was a lead on the arms dealer story Iris was currently working on. Despite all the research Iris had done the day before, even staying after hours, it had appeared as though the trail had gone cold. Or the dealer was just discreet enough to keep his dealings under the radar, for the most part. But this tip would be just the ticket to get it going again. Iris would be thrilled when she saw it.

Barry, however, would not.

…

A pounding headache and memories flooding through him just like every morning for the past few weeks, Barry very seriously considered calling in sick to work today. The Flash couldn’t take a day off, but Barry Allen, CSI extraordinaire, could. And to be fair, the CSI rarely took off, despite often being late and leaving frequently for his red-suited duties.

The fact of the matter was… seeing Iris almost get mugged and then retrieving the gun from her last night had only strengthened his conviction that they couldn’t be together. It broke his heart, but seeing her with the gun in her hand only reminded him of how reckless she was with investigative reporting, and that she hadn’t even considered the danger in her taking it, or how her fingerprints would be all over it.

Then again, what was she supposed to do with it? Just leave it in the alley? Wait for the Flash to return and take it from her? Go to the police station herself with it? Now that wouldn’t look suspicious at all, would it?

He rolled his eyes at himself.

Was he making up excuses now? Maybe.

The reason behind that possibility remained to be seen.

He couldn’t possibly be avoiding getting back together with Iris, could he?

Maybe this was for the best, and being so close to her last night had threatened to break his heart again.

He should just accept they weren’t meant to be together. He didn’t want to cut her out of his life. She was his best friend, first and foremost. And he had just told her she shouldn’t stop coming to STAR Labs on his account. She was part of the team too. It was inevitable they would see each other regularly. And it had been a few weeks, so maybe it was time for them to ease back into being friends again. They could do that. They’d been friends for years before they got together. Surely, they could be friends again.

Surely…

A knock at his apartment door rattled him more than it should’ve. He got up from the kitchen table, where his coffee had gone cold and his milk-soaked cereal had become mushy, and answered the door without looking in the peephole.

His eyes went wide.

“Iris.”

“Hey, Barry,” she said, soft but also restrained, like she was trying very hard not to show how…excited she was? “Can I come in?”

“Uh…sure.”

He moved his hand away from the doorframe just in time for her to come plowing through the entrance.

She looked around the apartment once inside, taking note to how it was just a little bit messier than when she’d frequented it nearly every day. Memories flashed before her eyes of them making out on the couch, at the kitchen table, on the counter…

“Iris?”

She cleared her throat and turned to face him. Obviously, he was talking to her.

Way to zone out, Iris.

“Yes?” she asked, grateful he couldn’t see her blush.

“Why are you here?”

She felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach, even though his tone hadn’t been cruel or cold in the slightest. It brought back the reality of the situation and how strange this must seem for her to be showing up like this. And peppy at that.

She sobered herself and remembered how she’d been feeling when she first got up that morning, and how he must be feeling pretty much the same thing.

“I wanted to check on you,” she said cautiously. “Like you checked on me?”

The tension seeped out of his shoulders, and he nodded.

“I’m okay,” he said with a shrug.

“Didn’t sleep either?” she asked knowingly.

His eyes locked on hers, taken by surprise with how right she was and how in sync they still were.

“I was thinking of calling in today,” he admitted. “I’m not…feeling myself.”

“Maybe I can help with that.”

“Iris…” he tried, as she walked towards him.

There was only one thing that could make him feel better, and it wasn’t going to happen. Not today at any rate. Maybe not ever.

She stopped when she saw him back up by the slightest part of an inch.

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.” She looked genuinely hurt.

He paused a moment before asking, “What are you going to say?”

“I was hoping you could walk me to work.”

He blinked. “What?”

She came over to him and hesitated for only a moment before looping her arm through his and tugging him towards the center of the room, careful not to let the feel of him distract her senses too much.

“I want us to be friends, Barry. Maybe it’s too soon for you, but it’s not nearly soon enough for me.” She stopped and turned to look at him. “I miss you.”

He swallowed hard. “I miss you too, Iris.”

“Then…” She gulped as she let her hands trail down to his fingers and squeeze gently. “Walk me to work. And…speed me to STAR Labs afterwards. Maybe come by on my lunch break? We can eat together. Try to…start something instead of accept nothing.”

He ached to say yes. She could see it in his eyes, in the way he wasn’t pulling away.

“It’ll be a lot harder to call in if I’m out in public so much,” he hedged.

“So, don’t call in. Let seeing me be the highlight of your day instead of the one thing you’re trying to avoid.”

“I’m not trying to avoid you. I just –”

She gave him a knowing look. He sighed.

“I suppose walking you to CCPN wouldn’t be the end of the world.”

She smiled brightly, and it broke his heart. He was making her happy, but they weren’t together. He was making her happy by doing the bare minimum. Was he giving her hope where she should have none? Or was he giving it to himself? He wanted to scream, but more than that, he wanted to kiss her. And he was the only one preventing the latter. It wasn’t like before where there was someone else.

Someone else…

How in the world was he going to handle it when she started dating again?

He looked back at her and tried his hardest to suppress the tears welling up in his eyes.

“Just…let me get ready? I mean, since I’m going to go to work now, officially.”

She smiled and nodded. “Of course. I’ll just wait here.”

She plopped down on the couch, and he ran a hand through his hair and headed for his bedroom. It was no short trip from here to CCPN. It was a warm day for January, but he knew she was only walking in heels in winter temperature this far for him. Because she wanted to be with him.

He shut his bedroom door behind him as soon as he reached the inside and braced his hands on top of his dresser. He groaned.

God, he wanted to be with her too.

…

Waiting in the living room, Iris tapped her foot on the carpet and tried to calm her nerves. The last thing she expected in that moment was to get a text from Linda demanding she call her NOW.

Seeing as how it was Linda who had set this grand plan into motion, she figured it’d be better if Barry didn’t overhear anything regarding it.

She got to her feet and turned towards the direction he’d gone.

“Uh, Barry? I have to make a call. Can I meet you in the hallway?”

There were a couple seconds of silence, then, “Uh, yeah, sure. I’ll be out soon.”

“Take your time.” She put a smile in her voice and then walked out of the apartment, shutting the door behind her.

“Hey, Iris,” Linda answered urgently over the phone.

A trickle of sweat dribbled down Iris’ neck. This sounded serious for Linda to be so anxious with just two words.

“What’s up? I was just about to get Barry to walk me to work. I think it’s the first step in a long-”

“Cancel it. Make an excuse. Don’t go with him.”

Iris’ shoulders slumped.

“But I got him all hopeful. I got me hopeful too. And what harm is there in him walking me to work? Especially if I’m at the very least sticking to being friends again?”

“Because, Iris Ann West, when I give you what I’m about to give you, Barry will not want to be your friend or anything else. I’ve got a lead on that dangerous story you want to investigate so badly.”

“Oh, my God, a lead? I thought it had gone cold!” She made a mental note to lower her voice so Barry wouldn’t hear, even through the solid wood door a foot away from her.

“I just had it emailed to me this morning. I put out feelers yesterday when you were having so much trouble finding anything, and I got something back.”

“What did you get?” Iris whispered excitedly.

“I’ll email it to you, and we can talk more at work. But from what I can tell by just skimming it? His underground alias and hide-out where he may possibly be keeping his weapons.”

“Oh, my God.”

“So, what’s it going to be, West? Spending your spare moments with Barry today or taking advantage of this tip while it still has validity?”

The door swung open, and a now smiling Barry Allen stood before her after quickly locking up his apartment. She forced a smile as she debated her options and knew in that instant that she was going to break his heart again.

“I have to go,” she quickly said into the phone and then hung up, slipping the device into her pocket.

Barry’s smile faltered.

“Is everything okay?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, of course, it’s just um…”

“Something come up at work?” He tensed, trying hard not to show it but failing.

“In a matter of speaking…” She licked her lips and tried to come up with a lie he’d believe. “Linda got locked out of the building. Or rather, she probably forgot her key and knows I have a spare.” She pulled the key out of her pocket smoothly, but her laughter was strained. “Raincheck?”

The thought crossed his mind that he could easily speed her there or at least wait for a cab to take her. But those possibilities must’ve occurred to her and she didn’t want either, or she probably would’ve asked.

“Oh. Yeah. Sure. I understand.”

He didn’t understand. He couldn’t possibly, and Iris knew it.

But she wasn’t going to lose another amazing story on his account. She would just have to make this up to him later.

“See you at STAR Labs?” he called out as she strutted down to the end of the hallway.

She spun around and walked backward.

“Actually, I think I’m going to be busy. Maybe tomorrow?”

The pain was written all over his face, but she couldn’t let herself focus on that right now or she wouldn’t follow through.

“Yeah, sure…I’ll see you later.”

“Bye!” She twirled back around and went down the stairs to exit the building.

Barry went back inside his apartment and called in to work.

...

*Also posted on AO3 and FFnet.

#westallen #fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #westallen fanfiction #fallen star #chapter 12

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brideofedoras · 4 years

Text

The Loft: Redemption

Disclaimer: the usual

Word count: 2400+

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse.

Rating: 18+

Chapter 4

"Kenna, what am I going to do?" Sam curled up on her cousin's sofa with a half pint of cheesecake brownie surprise ice cream.

Kenna grabbed a spoon and dug into her monster cookie ice cream. "My heart is yelling at me to kick your ass for even thinking of your boss like that," she admitted after taking a bite of her dessert. "But my brain is telling me you've reached the next step in your healing process."

Sam shoved her spoon into the chocolate dessert she held. "Ten years, Ken... Ten years and I'm still processing, I'm still healing."

"Everyone heals at their own pace," her cousin reached over to rub the brunette's shoulder. "Maybe..."

She shook her head. "Nope, not going back to therapy," she toyed with the spoon. "It's bad enough I missed a day and a half of work, I'm not about to dive right back in and miss an hour or two a week. I really don't want to have to explain to Mr. Stevens why I'm needing a longer lunch, or even lie about it. That man has a serious Bullshit Radar."

Kenna snorted. "Considering his pa--"

Sam held up her hand to stop her cousin. "Don't go there, Ken," she warned softly. "And don't even try to compare his past indiscretions to what Terrance did to me. He's nothing like that monster. I was not a willing participant."

"No, you weren't," the blonde set her ice cream on the coffee table and leaned over to hug the other woman. "I just don't want to see you hurt, Sam."

Sam nodded as she leaned into her cousin's embrace. "I just want to feel normal," her voice was muffled in Kenna's shoulder. "I don't want to be frightened of being turned on by a wink or a smile or the way he loosens his tie and rolls up his sleeves. I don't want to wake up crying from a dream about him." She pulled back to wipe at the tears burning her eyes. "I don't want to be afraid of how I feel for him, Ken. But I can't... I don't know what to do."

"First, we're going to eat our ice cream before it melts," Kenna squeezed her shoulders. "Tomorrow we'll get our hair done, get a tattoo," she grinned when Sam perked up. "Ink therapy helps. Maybe a new outfit or two for work."

Sam pursed her lips at that. "Not sure how that'll help."

"New outfits make us feel better," she shrugged. "But there is one thing that might work, if you're willing to give it a go."

The brunette looked up from her ice cream. "What? Ken, this better not be something crazy like getting body parts pierced."

Kenna chuckled, scrunching up her face. "Nope, no way in hell. Just my ears and nose. No," she sobered up. "My boss' sister runs a support group out of her basement on Saturday afternoons for warriors. I'd really like to take you to a meeting. Just one, if you don't think it's the right fit for you, no pressure to keep going back."

Sam frowned at her. "I don't do group therapy."

"It's not actually therapy, just a group of people who've been through a similar hell sharing their experiences and helping each other. I've gone a couple of times just to get a feel for it, they're a great group. Just give it a shot, one shot, and if you don't like it I won't bring it up again," Kenna turned back to her ice cream. "Dammit, now I want cream cheese brownies."

Sam giggled. "I know a great bakery, we can swing by tomorrow. I need to place an order for a meeting on Tuesday anyway."

"You really love your job," the blonde smiled. "Or you're just a workaholic."

She grinned. "Not a workaholic, I really do love my job. I'm happy there."

"That's all that matters," Kenna said before popping another spoonful of her ice cream into her mouth. "So, are we on for tomorrow?"

Sam nodded. "Yes."

September 25, 2016-- Kenna talked me into going to a support group meeting this afternoon. I didn't want to go but at the same time I'm sick and tired of losing sleep over nightmares and strange dreams about Vincent. I didn't talk at the meeting, I just sat back and observed and listened. There were two girls and a boy in the group. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen years old. The ages I'd been when...

It was all I could do to keep it together, to not cry or scream or rage. The others in the group shared their recent nightmares, their fears, their dreams. One felt like she was ready to move on and take that next step with her boyfriend, but was scared to death at the same time. She talked about how she chickened out several times going to Victoria's Secret until her sister offered to go with her.

I know deep down that this is something I need to do for myself but I don't think I can rehash everything all over again. Maybe I'll go again, since they meet on Saturday afternoons. It's an odd time to meet, I guess. It makes sense, it's not interfering with work or extracurricular activities, and it's early enough in the afternoon that it doesn't interfere with any family time.

I just want my life back. I just want to be able to go somewhere and not be afraid of a man looking at me or commenting on my looks. I want to be able to have the guts to stand up for myself at a work meeting (I haven't had to worry about that since that first one, Vincent put them in their places for questioning my knowledge). I want to be able to look a man in the eye and not want to throw up if I see something that scares me. I want to be able to wake up from a dream and not cry because it was a good dream. The kind of dream women should be happy to have. Even if that dream is about their boss. Like the dreams I've been having of Vincent ever since Tuesday when he brought me home.

I'm scared of what those dreams mean. I started to keep a separate journal just for those dreams. They scare me, they unsettle me, but they are nothing like the nightmares of what I had survived. These dreams, the ones about Vincent, leave me feeling torn in two. A simple touch of his hand at the small of my back when he walks me to my car at the end of the day. The stroke of his fingers against mine when he takes something I'm handing him. A hand on my shoulder when I'm pointing something out on a blueprint and he's leaning over me to take a look. Last night the dream was different. Very different. We were laying on the couch in his office, him leaning over me. He had my hand in his, resting over my heart and he was brushing his free hand over my hair and looking into my eyes with the softest eyes I've ever seen. The thing that stood out the most about the dream was his bare shoulders and the blanket over us. Yet nothing happened in the dream.

I was happy in that dream, too. I think that's what scared me the most about it. Feeling happy and safe in the dream and waking up crying because it was just a dream. Then freaking out because it was about my boss. I don't know what to do...

Sam frowned as she drummed her fingers lightly over the keyboard. "Mr. Stevens?"

"You know you can call me Vincent," he responded.

She leaned forward so she could look through his door. "I have an email from a Douglas Anderson regarding a meeting at one, but there's nothing on the schedule until Thursday." She saw his shoulders stiffen before he slowly turned to look at her.

"Sonofabitch, I forgot to put it on the calendar," he groaned, scrubbing his hands over his face. "I scheduled it Tuesday afternoon. Lunch meeting. God dammit," he shoved his fingers through his hair. "There's no time to reschedule, I've got site visits this week and I need to get that damned blueprint done--"

"You won't need to reschedule," Sam pushed away from her desk and walked to the doorway separating their spaces. "How many people are you expecting?"

"Six. I don't have anything ready, Monroe," he sighed heavily. "No reports, no outline, nothing."

"Give me something to work with, Mr-- Vincent," she braced her hand on the door frame. "I'll call in an order to the sub shop and the bakery now and get the conference room set up. Once you get me the information I need I'll get the packets put together." She walked into his office and picked up his coffee mug. "You need a break from your design, you've been grumbling over it for an hour and your coffee is cold."

"There's not enough time, Monroe," he watched her as she headed to the bathroom to pour out the cold coffee and rinse the cup. "There's no way--"

She leveled a glare at him from the bathroom door. "I'll have you know I've pulled miracles out of thin air before, Mr. Stevens. We will be ready in time for that meeting." She made quick work of fixing a fresh cup of coffee the way he liked it before fetching the emergency bottle of bourbon from the cabinet behind her desk. She hesitated before pouring a couple of fingers of the liquor. Sam glanced toward Vincent's office.

He sat at his desk, head in his hands. "I never should've taken you home that day, I thought I could handle it but clearly I can't," he griped to himself. "Couldn't concentrate once I got back because it was too damned quiet in here without your music."

Sam shook her head as she grabbed a paper plate and dished up a cinnamon sugar sprinkled donut. Armed with the coffee and the treat she returned to Vincent's office. "I was actually pretty worthless Tuesday afternoon," she admitted as she set the food and drink on his desk. "I tried to do some work on the laptop and wound up falling asleep."

"I figured you would," he looked at the donut. "I had one earlier."

"Yes, key word being earlier," she nodded. "Eat up."

He chuckled. "Do me a favor, will ya, Monroe?" He lifted his head when she started toward her office.

Sam stopped at the door and looked over her shoulder. "That all depends on the favor."

"Never quit," his hazel eyes locked with hers. "Don't you ever decide to quit on me."

"I'm not planning on going anywhere," she shook her head. "Someday I hope to do what you do."

"It's not an easy job," he groaned and shot a glare at the drawing table.

"If I wanted an easy job I wouldn't be here," she countered before returning to her desk.

Three hours later Vincent walked into the conference room to find Sam setting out the wrapped sandwiches, bags of chips, and a container of chocolate chip cream cheese brownies. "Need any help?"

She looked over her shoulder with a smile, "Nah, I got it, Boss."

His pulse quickened at the sight of that bright smile. No, Stevens. "What kind of sandwiches did you order?" He tore his eyes from her to focus on setting his laptop up and connect it with the projector.

"BLTs with ham, chicken, turkey or beef. Nothing fancy."

"You order anything for yourself?"

"Not a sandwich person," she grimaced. "Kenna's bringing me Chinese."

His head snapped up. "That's rude. You know I love Chinese," the look he gave her was a cross between a glare and betrayal.

"Don't worry, Vincent, I asked her to order something for you as well," she reached up to pat his shoulder on her way out of the conference room.

He caught her small hand in his when she pulled away. "You're a lifesaver, Monroe, I hope you know that," he murmured when she looked back at him.

A pretty pink blush colored her cheeks. "Just doing my job, Vincent."

He shook his head, taking a small step forward. "A logical choice would have been to push the meeting to another day. You pulled this off with, what, three hours notice. Linda wouldn't have been able to do this, and God knows the others wouldn't have even tried. This... this isn't 'just doing your job', Sam. This was going above and beyond, and I don't know if I can thank you enough for saving my ass." His eyes dropped to her lips when she uttered a soft gasp.

The urge to kiss her nearly overwhelmed him and he forced himself to take a step back and release her hand.

"You don't need to thank me," she slowly pulled her hand back.

"Yes, I do," he shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks. "I'm serious, Sam."

"You can thank me later," she stepped forward and reached out to take his tie in her hands.

Vincent held his breath when his heart kicked a little harder. When she straightened the knot in his tie he huffed out a nervous laugh.

"Your tie was crooked," she stepped back. "And your hair's a mess. You don't need to give the contractors the wrong idea," she walked out of the room.

He stared after her, stunned silent by that little comment and the sudden barrage of thoughts that flooded his mind. Thoughts he knew better than to have about her.

Was she teasing him? Or was she warning him?

"God, I need to fix this," he muttered before following her into the office. "Sam?"

She turned to face him, her face a brighter pink. "I don't know why I said that," she apologized softly. "I..."

"Don't apologize for teasing me," relief flooded through him when he realized she wasn't warning him, that he hadn't screwed up, that she hadn't read his damned mind. "You shocked me, certainly never expected you to say something like that to me."

She giggled. "I surprised myself," she pulled her chair back and sat down. "I normally don't pop off like that."

He walked into the bathroom to fix his hair. "It's all right, Sam," he chuckled. "I wouldn't let them think anything like that about you anyway."

He doubted anyone would believe that anyway, not when her clothes weren't wrinkled, makeup not smudged, hair not tangled. "Don't go there, Stevens," he warned himself, bracing his hands on the sink and glaring at his reflection. "Don't want to lose her."

#the loft #vincent stevens #karl urban #redemption #slow burn #romance

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ripuels · 4 years

Text

For @outreotter <3

(Another one that got way out of hand, also I haven’t managed to read over it mine soul is on Jupiter locked in a fridge sorry. Posting it as text under the cut because tumblr remains awful about my ask box~)

“If you're in some kind of trouble, you can tell me.” Christopher doesn't steer far from her hip as he welcomes her into the lounge room and she falls into the couch.

“What makes you think I'm in trouble?”

The responding look is one of disbelief, he hardly has to be reminded who he's talking to.

“Okay, okay sure. I'm avoiding someone, and your- the door wasn't locked, and I thought-” Amanda sees the incredulous synthetic stand opposite, arms folding across his chest, “oh my God, this was such a bad idea. I'm just- yeah, I'm gonna go.”

“Wait!” Samuels catches her with urgency, she freezes at the edge of the couch. “Stay, for a tea? I haven't seen you in a year, it's been odd to say the least, and concerning- the radio silence after all we've been through, and suddenly you're in my hallway, I- it would be nice, to catch up.”

She sits back down, nodding slowly. “Tea never hurt anyone. But just tea, then I gotta get back to work.”

“Amy- Ripley,” he corrects himself as she flinches to a microscopic degree, “it's Sunday.”

She knows what he's getting at, calling her out on any reason to leave in a hurry. “Is it?” Her voice drags with a heavy sarcasm even Christopher couldn't miss. “I had no idea. Mostly because I've been working non-stop for about five weeks. Fucking staff cuts left us with half the crew and double the work, and I can't even complain because I'm one of the fortunate ones who still has a job. And-”

Samuels watches as she sinks comfortably into the couch pillows, ankle crossed over the other knee. It's funny that such a simple movement reminds him how flexible she is, especially her hips.

“Sorry,” she groans and scrubs at her eyes, “that's exactly what I'm doing right now isn't it?”

“It’s quite alright. I'm interested and happy to listen.”

“It’s just, my whole crew was made up of contractors, once their time was up, they didn't want to bother renewing and The Company saw the opportunity to save some dollars.” Amanda huffs, “fuck all the rest of us I guess.”

Samuels nods compassionately, pacing over to the kitchen to put the kettle on, leaning over his elbows on the bench. It's amazing how unique this synthetic has developed compared to all the others, since the breakup she had never struggled to speak to other Samuels units, though identical, she never saw his face in them. But him, Christopher, he could be standing amongst a hundred others and he'd be the sole blip on her radar.

“You're obviously not easily replaced,” he means it in more ways than one, “maybe take it higher to HR, they could always steer you in the right direction. I’d be happy to help, if you needed anything from Legal-?”

Ripley smiles, pulling her hair over her shoulder and sliding her forearm behind her head. “Any excuse, you haven't changed a bit,” she laughs, definitely joking though not far wrong, “but I don't want to bug you for help. You've done enough for me after everything, and I already owe more than I could pay you back in years.”

“We had years,” Christopher says simply, fondly, an ease in his voice that Amanda can't tell is reminiscing or final. Or which one she would prefer it to be. “And they were good years. Consider your debt paid. However nonexistent it is.”

She gently scratches her fingertips in the hair behind her ear, letting out a resigned sigh as he prepares a few mugs.

“How long have you been back?”

“Two months.” She says with a hard stare. He doesn’t look upset or surprised by the fact that she hadn’t called around to visit, but curious. “I moved in with- with someone, in the hab units, y’know the permanent accommodation ones? By the bay. Nice view, but really quiet.” By that, she means lonely. “Figure I may as well set myself up if I’m going to be around for a while.”

“Oh, I see. Have you…” He starts, taking a moment to compose himself a little better, stripping the desperation out of his voice. “Have you found someone? Human?” He adds a little unnecessarily.

After him? Hell no, she thinks. She had her shot at love, at life, at everything, and she blew it. What the fuck would she even do with a new lover but silently wish they were someone else? Someone in particular.

“No, God no. I've just, been around.” She says nonchalantly, which isn't a total lie. A few dates, made a few more friends, he always said she needed more of them.

“Anyone right now?”

Amanda doesn't mean to laugh, a little sadly, looking directly at him. “Always.”

“Oh.”

The synthetic doesn't seem surprised by the revelation, in fact, he doesn't look anything.

“Dammit, Chris. Have you turned your emotional programming off again?” Amanda knows him, and knows he is smarter than to lie to her, so he stays quiet. “You're getting worryingly good at faking it. Even convinced me for a while there. Why the hell?”

Samuels tugs his tie loose with a finger, a movement usually telling of his synthetic measure of anxiety. This time however, it looks more habitual. His face is icy, unbothered, his eyes relaxed under a numb brow. “I found it easier to function.” To cope. “How did you know?”

Ripley gets up and wanders to the other side of the bench, hands wringing at the edge of it. “Because this isn't you, Samuels. Even before you met me you were emotional, sentimental, and now you're just- just like all the others. But worse actually, because you're choosing to be.”

As if she hadn't spoken at all, he finds another subject. One he would experience an immeasurable amount of panic over had he been able to feel anything at all. “Did you ever find any more answers?” His controlled hand pours boiling water into two mugs. “To the whereabouts of Ellen?”

“No, and turns out I didn't want them anyway.” Amanda doesn't need to try to sound convincing. “It's a huge universe out there and I could look for my entire life, waste- my entire life, and not even get a net to the bottom. I'm finished. It's what she would have wanted, I think.”

“I believe you're right. It's what we all wanted for you. To find some peace.”

“Closure.” She smiles weakly and he nods. “I’m getting there. One step at a time. First things first, I still gotta settle into my new joint. Make it, I don’t know, comfortable. Like this place.”

“You're always welcome to stay here. It is half your house too.” Christopher stops himself from saying home, something it hasn't been in over twelve months. “There is a spare room or two.”

“I couldn't intrude like that. You probably have a whole social group, a girlfriend, boyfriend, both, who knows. Feels wrong to kick your door down so suddenly,” she says, a little downhearted. The synthetic opens his mouth to assure her he absolutely doesn't, but she trudges onward. “Thanks though, Chris. I’ll keep it in mind.”

He resigns to nod, knowing first hand that corralling this woman never ended well in the past. “Offer isn't retractable, not that you won't let yourself in anyway. Clearly.”

Amanda takes her tea with a thankful smile, leaning on her elbows. The man across mirroring her. “Hey, yeah.” She rests the rim of the mug to her chin. “Why was the door unlocked?”

“It’s silly, really.” He finally looks away, perhaps considering dishonesty. “I haven't locked it since you left, since I didn't know if you still had a key or not. I'm not sure what possesses me to do it, but I thought of this place as a safe haven of sorts, for if you ever need.” He finds himself looking into the face of a woman who knows her soul is being x-rayed. “Good thing too, came in as a handy sanctuary, from mysterious pursuers.”

At this she rolls her eyes. “Okay, you got me. There wasn't actually anyone, I just wanted to drop in but something came over me. It was as if-” she takes a sip and shrugs, “it was just dumb.”

“As if what?”

“As if- I was coming home I guess. I was just going to knock but before I knew it, I was standing in the hallway, and then you were there and, yeah, I panicked.” She finds herself smiling along with him. “You should turn it back on, by the way. Your feelings. It's not fair that I'm here all shaky knees and racing heart and you're just a slab of limestone.”

His face falls. “I don't think that's a very good idea.”

“Why? What's wrong?”

Samuels straightens off the bench. “It just isn't.”

Amanda doesn't push. “Y'know, if you need someone to talk to, support, I'm here. I might not have always been but, I am now.”

He thinks for a moment, remembering the times when his ex-lover would break down between his legs in the bath, against the wall of the hallway, when he came home to her tiny frame hunkered behind the couch, terrified, knife in her defensive hand and sweat beading on her forehead. She'd always let him be there, let him in, and he never allowed her the slightest room for guilt.

It had been months since Samuels felt anything, since he became lost in processing grief, regret, anxiety. Why would she leave? How could she? Would she ever come back? But above all, could she ever come back? He knew Amanda would follow the trail until the end, whether it be of the line, or her life.

If he were to tune into all of that now, should the dam crumble, he doesn't think she should be around to see it. But if she leaves, it may be for good, truly, this chance as fleeting as her.

“Amanda, I- I would, but I haven't- not in a long time. I have reason to err on the side of caution, that it may not be something you want to witness.” Samuels' report is composed, even as he fidgets with the mug handle. “I have no clue what to expect, but suspect it will not be pleasant.”

“Keeping shit bottled up is only going to break you. I’m not going to push, but let me help you, if you need. Anything. No expiry date.”

Samuels rubs his hair back, disturbing the perfect form that somehow always defied not only the weather, but her playful tussling. He seems defeated by the fact that he has nothing to lose. “Could I-” he starts, placing his drink down, “Could I just trouble you for a hug?”

Amanda recoils, she doesn't know why her reaction is of surprise, not until she remembers where they stand. Square one. Or perhaps more accurately, not even on the same tile at all. “Yeah, course you can.”

She takes the initiative to wander over and feed her hands under his arms, dragging them together tightly around his chest. Without hesitation he takes her around the shoulders.

He hasn't changed a bit, still warmer than he should be, still wearing the same deliciously oaky cologne she brought a few Christmases ago. The one he wore because he was convinced he smelled of chemicals. Like new silicone baking trays. Amongst other things. And he still holds her as if she is vanishing before his very eyes.

Now more than ever, she thinks. Even at her scariest, most dire moments, when his hand was the only thing holding her to the face of the Earth, he never squeezed so desperately.

“Samuels,” she whispers, turning her face from his shoulder to nestle into the crook of his neck. His grip eases as if foreseeing the 'you're hurting me' or 'that's enough now' coming. “When was the last time you had a rest cycle?”

“Since the morning.”

“You sleeping every day now?” Amanda steps back hesitantly, her thumbs rubbing his forearms.

“No,” he clarifies. “The morning I woke up and you were gone.”

Her heart gives a punishing ache, but presented with the opportunity to make things right, she wasn’t going to screw it up again. “’Kaye. C’mon. Bed with you. Now.”

“I'd rather be here. You're due to go to work soon and I haven’t seen you in-”

“Fuck work. You need me. You need somebody.” She wriggles up behind him shoves his waist forward. “Rest cycle for you, then if you want, I'll duck out and pick up some dinner. Maybe Italian and a bottle of wine, and if you're really lucky, or the wine is good, I'll stay the night. But only if you’re prepared to turn everything back on over dinner and we talk about this. Properly.”

“Wait, you'll truly stay?”

She nods her head as he peers over his shoulder. “Couch or spare room. Or would you prefer I went home? Just figured, you might want the company.”

“No! No, of course I do. Please.” He's not even able to change out of his work suit before he's pushed roughly on the bed, the throw rug at the base is dragged up to his chin. Amanda at least unfastens a few buttons of his shirt and unhooks his tie. “What will you be doing while I rest? It'll take-” he seems to calculate, discomfort and disappointment falling over him, “four hours, twenty-five minutes.”

Ripley flops down the the bedside chair, pulling out her phone. “I'll just be here, for when you come to.”

“Alright.” Christopher hums, rolling onto his side, his eyes fluttering closed. Looking as close to a dead battery as she had ever seen him, though physically at full charge. “Before I- I am out, I want you to know, I’m so happy to see you, Amanda.”

“Happy.” She teases gently. “And how can you tell without-?”

“They’re already back online.”

#i may or may not have fallen asleep on my keybort during this #pls tell me if there is just a huge patch in the middle of ggggggggggggg forrever #thank you

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petersmparker · 5 years

Text

Clutch pt 7 (Peter Parker x Reader)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: This is the first time Peter has spoken to you since he’d kissed you in the alley, and he can’t help but be surprised.

Word Count: 1868

A/N: woo! long time coming, huh? thanks to everyone following this series for their patience! we’re one week into the semester and college is already beating me into submission. did someone say “five classes that assign almost 50 pages of reading due for every class”?? Love you all for sticking w me!!! I’ll promise the next one will be out faster- it’s already written for editing!! ps, tumblr literally won’t allow a cut, so I’m sorry to anyone who has to scroll past this

INTRO PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7 PART 8

It's nearly a week until Peter sees you again due to careful avoidance in the halls and an unfortunate streak of petty crime a distance from your usual routes. Even despite the heated kiss that had been exchanged and his decision to share with you the name behind Spider-Man, he worries that it would be unwise to approach you outside of the suit, and the sight of you in school makes his heart do flips that leave him flustered and distracted for an admittedly embarrassing amount of time.

Because of this, the week passes with some anxiety and nerves. Peter isn't exactly sure how to make odds or ends of what had occurred between you. The kiss had been wonderful- something he had dreamed of without the nerve to actually hope for it. Moreover, it was his first. He wondered if it was yours too, or if you minded that it was him.

Well. Not him, he supposed. Spider-Man. He knew that you felt nothing for him personally, but rather his superhero alter ego. You knew very little about him, after all, besides his name. There wasn’t much he’s been able to share. But if you did, Peter wondered, would you see something in him worth caring about?

Five days in, as Peter goes through the motions of dinner, he fights the urge to admit to May what had occurred. To just talk about it, maybe get some advice. The thoughts rattle in his brain nonstop, keeping him in a near-constant state of “What now?”. But he meets her eye over her container of takeout as she digs a piece of broccoli out from under her rice, and can’t seem to do it. Not yet. Not until things are clearer.

As he climbs into bed, he once again replays the kiss in his mind for the millionth time, hoping to hell that his fixation isn’t breeding false hope.

The next day, Peter decides to swing through the street where his fight had occurred to survey the damage repair. It was something he, unfortunately, was becoming accustomed to doing after putting himself on the radar of higher level criminals the year before. The guilt always struck him when he viewed a shattered glass storefront or a torn apart corner of a building. No matter how hard he tried, sometimes the damage control got away from him.

Seeing the closed-up mini mart is just like every other time, and it feels terrible.

Despite that, the guilty thoughts circling Peter's brain come to a dead stop the moment he lays eyes on you again. Overcoming them was nervousness. Embarrassment, even, as he recalled just how much you'd been at the center of his mind for the past week.

You’re walking along the far side of the street, gazing up at what is left of the shop. The busted-out window is covered in several layers of plastic, wood planks, and cardboard. While the police tape is long gone, the word CLOSED is clearly displayed on the front door- as if the mess of a window isn’t enough of a clue.

As Peter watches, you move on toward a telephone pole to read a sheet of paper that had been stapled to it. After a few moments, you tear it off and stride, agitatedly, in the direction of an alley that he knows all too well. For a brief second Peter wants to assume that you’ll just walk past it. Surely you aren't going to return to The Place It Happened and cause the impending conversation to be even more awkward than it was already going to be.

You turned into the alley, and with a sigh, Peter jumps from the roof he had been perched upon to meet you there. He touches down next to you, startling you only slightly when he attempts to casually say hello and reach for the flyer in your hand.

"Jesus," you gasp, yanking the paper away from him in your exasperated surprise, "Part of me had a feeling you'd show up, but I still wasn't prepared. Maybe you need a bell around your neck."

Peter accepts the now-offered flyer and tries not to shiver when you gently brush a finger against his throat for emphasis. "Ah, well," he starts, somewhat awkwardly, "That might ruin the element of surprise a bit, you know? The bad guys would hear me. Mr. Stark might have to fire me. And in this economy?"

"Spider-Man gets paid?" You ask, bewildered.

"God, no," he says quickly, "This suit is payment enough. And he gave me all this nice stuff I couldn't afford, I- I'd never ask for more."

With a gentle laugh, you place a hand on his arm. "You're a good guy. Really. It makes the shit this reporter is spreading all the more ridiculous," you say with finality, gesturing toward the flyer he still hadn't read.

Pictured was Spider-Man in the midst of his criminal sendoff. Shards of glass are flying across the whole photograph, and the look on the man’s face is one of complete terror. The caption reads, SPIDERMAN: HERO? OR PUBLIC MENACE?

"Oh," Peter says, dejectedly, "I can't really argue that, can I?"

In a quick movement, you rip the flyer out of his hands, crumple it, and toss it toward the open lid of the nearest dumpster.

"Spider-Man," you say firmly, commanding him to hear you, to listen, and Peter’s surprised by the seriousness of your tone.

Your voice lowers in volume when you say, "Peter," and take his hands in your own, and he nearly melts.

"Everything you do is for the good of others. You've saved people's lives before. Put your own in danger to do it. That flyer is slander. Nothing more. No one in their right mind will believe this, and you, you damn intelligent boy, you should know better than to buy into it, either."

"The damage-" Peter starts, before you raise a hand over the mouth area of his mask.

"Nothing was destroyed, Peter. The infrastructure is sound. It was a single window. It can be replaced. Lives can't be replaced,” you assert, squeezing your eyes shut tight when you continue to say, “With the way I was reacting, I- I probably would have been shot. You stopped that from happening.”

"But. . ." he starts, muffled against your hand, before he realizes that he doesn’t know what to say.

Your other hand comes up so that you can gently hold the sides of his face. The touch sends shivers up Peter’s spine. He’s sure you can feel it when it shakes him, and he’d be embarrassed if he weren’t so entranced by your eyes now that they’ve reopened. You stare into the eyes of his mask, almost as if you can actually see his face.

Your voice fills with what Peter thinks is gratitude when you say, "I would be dead if it weren't for you."

A tension-filled moment passes in which he reels, mind flitting to a hundred different places, before it lands on a terrible thought.

"Is that why you were willing to kiss me?" Peter asks, tentatively.

Surprised, your hands fall away for a brief second, before coming back, holding him tighter than before. "No," you say, definitively, "I would have kissed back no matter what you had done. I'm glad you gave me the opportunity."

With your words, the anxiety slips away from Peter all at once. The fear of rejection is sapped out of him, the concern that he had overstepped his boundaries, the sinking feeling he got every time he thought about how he left afterward. He is left with a balloon in his chest inflating too quickly. It fills with happiness, relief, and affection. It takes his breath away.

In his joy, Peter forgets who he is. Not unlike the first time, he surges forward, arms wrapping around your lower back to pull you forward. He leans in to kiss you, and realizes once he meets your mouth with his own that he's Spider-Man. Not Peter. The mask is still on. His embarrassment is horrific, and had you not burst into delighted laughter Peter may have left the country then and there.

"That- that was so dumb," he says, awkwardly, reaching up to hide his face as if the mask didn't always hide his blush, "I'm sorry. That was- oh man."

You pull him down to plant a kiss on his cheek, paying no mind to the mask that has thwarted his attempt at affection. "This is why," you explain, stopping to press a second quick kiss to the mouth of his mask, "You ask if I kissed back because you saved me? I kissed back because in the little time I've known you, you've been funny. And you've been kind, and brave. What more could I have done, besides feel something for you?"

Peter calms slowly, the heat of embarrassment being replaced by a different kind of warmth. A lovely, comfortable one. The urge to tell you who he really is- more than just his name- bowls him over like a tidal wave, potential ramifications be damned. He opens his mouth to do so when a voice at the entrance of the alley says, "Hey, it's Spider-Man!"

Peter turns to see someone who appears to have stumbled upon the alley at the worst possible time. While you hadn't heard them speak, his hearing is far better. You don’t turn until after he’s faced the unwelcome arrival.

Luckily, thinks Peter as he attempts to emote as much disdain as possible without moving, it's just you. Ned waves at the scene you’ve made in the alleyway, unaware of the context of your meeting or the true presence of you in his life.

"Hello there," he adds, when neither of you respond. His tone implies that he's picked up on something, but Peter isn't sure what that is.

"Uh, hello," Peter answers, unsure of what to say.

Ned looks between the two of you slowly. "Is... everything okay?" He asks, seemingly unaware of how odd it is for a civilian to ask if Spider-Man is alright, whether or not he secretly knows him personally.

His eyes flick downward to your hands, still cupping Peter’s jaw.

"Yes!" Peter exclaims, backing away from you, "Everything is fine! In fact, I should probably be going, now that everything is fine."

"Oh?" His best friend questions in response.

"Absolutely," you say slowly, picking up on Peter’s tone.

Ned nods, but his expression clearly states that he is both skeptical and confused. In a moment of eye contact, Peter realizes that you know there's something going on, too. Maybe even that the person who has stumbled upon you and him knows something. The prospect of it is vaguely terrifying. He can feel you continue to stare at him long after he’s turned back to Ned, searching for the words to say, and is sure that you’re searching his body language and the squint of his eyepieces for answers. His posture falls from rigid to defeated.

Peter turns to look back at you, reaching toward you to grab your hand. He stops halfway, thinking better of the action before he’s spoken to Ned. You almost reach out to meet it, but you stop too, centimeters away.

"I have to go," he says, voice laced with apologies and explanations he can’t fully give to you right now, "I'll... I'll see you. I'm sorry."

You smile reassuringly. "See you, Spider-Man."

After a long moment, he turns away. After nodding toward Ned, still watching from the end of the alleyway, he takes a huge leap into the air and swings away. Maybe he’s mistaken, but he’s sure that he can hear Ned offer a quick, I guess I’ll see you later? to you before he runs off.

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@nedthegay @legendarydazekitten @secretlittlewonders @jackiehollanderr @disgustangg

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