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themrsackerman · 4 years

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A Little Fall of Rain

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader

Warning: Angst, violence, blood, death

You love him. It was all you needed to know.

It didn’t matter that he doesn’t feel the same way or that he ignores your gestures to show him how much you care. You were just grateful that he doesn’t bluntly shuts you down. Levi always thought it was just a silly childish infatuation, that you would soon grow out of it like most of his cadets ever did. You thought so too at first. But the more time you spend around him, the more reasons you find to fall inevitably deeper in love with the man.

Outside the stoic demeanor of the man hailed the Humanity’s Strongest soldier, he was actually a caring person. He has his own way of showing it. Its not entirely obvious most of the time, but if you look closely, if you get past the brash scolding and intimidating gazes, you will see how much he actually does care. Specially those under his squad.

You worked your ass off to improve in order to get in his squad. Driven by your admiration for the corporal and with Hange and Mike’s help, you were quick to master the combat and titan slaying. You gained rank over time and was soon able to fight along side Levi.

The captain himself would be lying if he say you did not impress him, because you do. You started out from this weak, clumsy recruit to someone Erwin handpicked to watch Levi’s back in most missions.By now, you had been with him to countless missions and one of the handful he trusts with his life.

You swallow hard and took one last look around you before the walls’ gate finally opens. Memorizing the faces of your companions and giving stiff nods of encouragement to those who meet your gaze. Expeditions always had your stomach turning no matter how many times you have gone out. Each time, fewer familiar face return; each time you lose someone you have come to know and love.

You idly wonder when will this nightmare end, if this will ever end. You thought of the journey ahead and wonder if you’ll be able to come back to this confinement you call home. Commander Erwin stressed how important and dangerous this mission will be and you feel that in your bones now seeing the usual stoic face of your corporal so intense. Levi meets your gaze and he jerks his head to the side, signaling you to take you place beside him in the formation as the gates open fully. The grip you had on the lead rope tightens, turning your knuckles white as you urge your horse to move forward.

You have one mission. This is what you’ve trained for and this is the only way you can express your unconditional love for him. Protect him, at all cost.

It all went downhill so fast..

All around you, your comrades fell. Your ears were ringing, muffling the sounds of battle cries, anguished screaming and the world crumbling around you. Hot thick blood runs past your eye from a cut on your forehead which you wiped haphazardly as you push yourself off of the ground. You pushed a big breath into your lungs in effort to calm your racing heart, looking around wildly trying to locate the only person you could fathom to think of right now.

“Captain Levi.” you mutter breathlessly, your stumbling turning into sprints to run after the man slaying titans left and right. The beast had titans swarm Levi and adrenaline rushes through you.You winced in pain, feeling parts of you that is surely either bruised or wounded. But you continue forward, grabbing a horse and racing forward to take your place behind your corporal.

“Watch out!!” you yell out of sheer panic, your own body moving to its own accord as you aim your odm gear on the nearest titan, abandoning your horse in order to get to Levi as fast as you could. Amidst the horde of titans commanded by the Beast titan, you lurch forward to slice of the grasping hand of titan threatening to capture the captain.

Levi couldn’t help but turn to look at the shrill of your voice, alerting him of the imminent danger he wasn’t able to foresee. It all happened so fast. One minute you were yards away from him, the next you were saving him from being grabbed and crushed by the titan chasing after him. Levi scowls, he’s being too careless, too blinded by his rage.

“Go Captain!" you assure him and gestured for him to keep going. Levi gave you a quick grateful nod and surges forward. You tried your best to keep up with him, eyes darting all around to make sure Levi makes it to the Beast titan and finally take down the bastard. You see and hear your comrades fall all around you, tears of rage and sorrow fills your eyes as you continue to forward.

Got to focus.

Got to watch his back.

Keep him safe no matter what.

Protect him at all cost.

At all cost.

Trailing him and taking down each titan he missed, you realize his gear is running out of gas. “Captain!” you yell, trying to get his attention. “Stop! You’re running out of gas!” You grunt as you try to keep up with him so that you’ll be able to catch him once he does run empty. Levi was too engrossed by rage, chasing after the beast that wiped out his fellow soldiers. “I promised him!” Levi screams, jaw clenching tight as he continues forward.

You see the last of the steam come out of his gear as Levi killed the last titan and your eyes widened. He’ll fall into the titan’s hands in front of him if you don’t do anything. So you put everything you have and thankfully reached Levi in just a nick of time. You wrap your arms around his torso and shielded him with your body as you both fall to the ground having no titan or trees around for your odm gear to latch on.

“NO!” Levi yells as he rolls to the ground after you caught him, glaring at the titan carrying the beast titan further away. The ground shakes underneath him as his fist slams down out of frustration. Levi’s eyes widened as he hears you coughing, realizing your presence.

“Y/n?” he mutters, turning around only to find you lying on the ground.

“No, Y/n.” Levi shakes his head, rushing to your side. “It’s okay.” you say weakly, making an effort to smile up at him. Levi’s blood ran cold. This smile was different. It was unlike the warm ones you usually gave him. Your lips tremble as your breathing becomes shallow. And then you felt it. Warmth, spreading right below your ribcage.

Blood trickles down from right below your left rib, soaking your uniform. Both you and Levi looked at your wound and saw the huge gash start to drench the lower half of your body with your own blood. You frowned as you placed a hand over the gash, feeling disappointed and ashamed. “I’m sorry, Captain.” you say, voice dropping to a whisper as you feel your strength slip.

“Shit.” Levi mutters breathlessly as he lifts your body from the ground. “Cadet, look at me.” he commands, holding you against his body as he inspects your wound closely.

Is this how I go out? Am I dying? You thought as you look up the blue sky above you. You grin, comforting yourself, I kept him safe, at least. And I get to die in his arms.

“Y/n!” Levi calls, giving your cheek gentle shakes until your eyes met his. Your eyes and mind were drifting off. All you know at the moment is that Levi is holding you in his arms and his beautiful face just inches away from yours. A bittersweet smile stretches your lips. You’ve always wanted this. And even if you only get to have it with the last few remaining breaths you have, you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

You winced when you feel him press his hand against the wound, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. “Fuck, hold on.” he mutters, ripping his cloak off of his shoulders and pressing it over your wound. Levi then curses to himself as he checks your gear and realized you no longer have gas too. He looks around wildly, where are his comrades? Have they all fallen too?

Levi inhales deeply and held you in a better position. “You’re going to be fine.” he says, but more to himself than to you. “Y/L/N, hey, look at me. You’ll be okay. Just hold on, Hange’s right on our tail they should be here soon.”

You watch his green cloak turn to an odd shade as your blood seeps through it. You sigh and smiled up at him, patting his trembling hand that he holds over your wound. You’ve worked in the infirmary long enough to know that this isn’t the type of wound you can just patch up. And as much as you’d refuse to believe, you doubt anyone else is coming to your rescue right now. You gave him an apologetic smile. “It’s okay, Captain. Don’t worry.” you say weakly and Levi felt his heart clench.

No, please. Not her too. He thinks idly, guilt and regret coursing thick in his veins. “It will be. Just hold on, I’ll look for-” he started to move but you grip his wrist with all the strength you have left and shake your head. “Just,” you swallow hard and search his bluish gray orbs, pleading “Can you just p-please, stay? With me? Until I-” you start to stammer, tears starting fill your eyes. “You and I both know I can't walk this out, Captain.” you say, smiling sadly.

Levi freezes as reality hits him. His usual stoic expression melting as he holds your face, nodding. “I won’t leave you.” he assures you and he felt his heart break at the way this mere statement lit up your entire face. Your smile is still as warm and beautiful even at the circumstance you’re currently in. The fact that this might be the last time he sees this makes his stomach turn. He tucks the loose strands of your hair behind your ear, murmuring “I promise.” His voice cracking in the slightest.

“Thank you, Captain. And I’m sorry I failed you.” your brows furrow. Levi shakes his head vehemently, a dry laugh escaping his lips. “No way in hell, Y/n. You saved me countless times. I’m still standing because of you.” His brows furrow as he feels your breath get more shallow and saw the blood that had pooled beneath you.

“If there’s anyone here who failed, it was me. I failed to protect you.” Levi leans down and planted a chaste kiss on your forehead. “I’m sorry.” he whispers.

Your eyes drift close, you feel so tired. “I’d do it all over again for you.“ you say, voice barely above a whisper. You looked up at him and finally, you confessed.

“I love you, Captain Levi.”

Levi felt the air got knocked out off of him, realizing that deep down, in some sort of way, he does love you too. Maybe not in the same way as you do, but enough to feel his usually unfeeling heart tear in his chest. He loves you and he’s going to lose you. Just like he lost his Mom, Farlan and Isabella.

Levi sighs, forcing out a small smile as he held your face. He then leans in and gave you a kiss. Are you just dreaming this? You blinked and placed a hand against his cheek. It feels so real. You smile against his lips and tried to kiss him back. Levi’s face crumple in sorrow but he kept kissing you, tasting your salty tears. Or maybe they were his, tears of regret he swore he will never feel again but he does now.

As Levi pulls away, he wipes your tear-stained cheeks then kisses your nose and your forehead. “I know you do. And there is no one else who could have loved me the way that you did.” he says, leaning his forehead against yours. You smile and gave in, letting your eyes fall close again. Your body no longer feel heavy. You felt afloat. Like you’re in a dream. You feel his soft breaths tickle your cheek and his familiar scent brought you peace.

If this is a dream, yeah, you wouldn’t mind not waking up.

“If there is a life after this one, I'll make sure to find you. And find some sort of way to make it up to you.” he says sincerely, wiping the tears that escaped your closed eyes.

“I’d like that.” you whisper. Levi waits for you to open your eyes again, holding his own breath as he listens to yours.

But he didn’t get to see those e/c orbs again.

Levi watches your smile fade as he feels your hand falls limp against his hold. His heart shatters to pieces feeling that you’re truly no longer there anymore. Levi touches your face one last time, and sent you off with a last kiss on the forehead. Promising himself to make sure your sacrifice was not for naught as he reclaims his sword from the ground.

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calpalirwin · 3 years

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35th Floor

Summary: You and Ashton run rival companies in the same building.

Word count: 4.7k

And away, and away we go!

You checked the time on your watch as you rounded the corner, the tall building looming a mere fifty feet away. 8:45 am. Perfect. As you lifted your gaze, your lips curled into a sneer as you watched a man approaching you from the opposite street corner. His suit lay perfectly flat against his body, just tight enough to show off how well-muscled he was underneath the crisp ensemble. In one hand, he held a cell phone pressed to his ear, and even from the distance you could hear his sharp tone. “Where the blame lies is of little interest to me, unless the problem is not fixed by noon today. Because then I will become interested, and rest assured, you do not wish to see me interested. Are we at an understanding?” As the man waited for an answer, he took a sip of the iced coffee in his other hand. “Good. My office. Noon. Not a minute later.”

He slid his phone into his jacket pocket, finally taking note of your appearance as you both walked up the steps to the building together. “Miss Y/L/N,” he greeted, a smirk on his lips as his fingers curled around one of the doors, pulling it open for you both.

“Mr. Irwin,” you responded icily, opening the other door for yourself. “I find that my employees are a lot more agreeable to do my bidding, and make less mistakes, when I don’t berate them before the work day has even begun,” you commented offhandedly as you both walked towards the elevator.

“Bold statement from the woman who can’t let a gentleman hold the door for her,” was the quip as he hit the button to call the elevator.

“Bold of you to assume you’re a gentleman, Mr. Irwin.”

“It’s Ashton, Y/N. Surely the basic pleasantries are beyond us now.”

“I wouldn’t call what we do ‘pleasant,’ Mr. Irwin. You are barely tolerable at best, and at worst a thorn in my side.”

“And you, a thorn in mine.”

“Am I at least a sharp thorn?” you inquired with a small smirk of your own.

“The sharpest.”

“Hmm. Pity. You’re a rather dull thorn. I thought we’d at least be matched. But it is clear you hold me in much higher esteem than I hold you.”

“You wound me,” he deadpanned as the elevator finally dinged and the silver mirrored doors slid open.

“Careful not to bleed all over your suit,” you told him as you stepped onto the elevator, quickly hitting the button for your floor and the “close door” button. “The dry cleaning must cost a fortune,” you mused as the doors started to close, faster than Ashton could join you, much to his startled shock and your glee.

~~~

Thanks to leaving Ashton waiting for another elevator, you didn’t see the man again until you stepped out for lunch. “Mr. Irwin,” you flashed him a smile as you found him in the small elevator waiting area of the 35th floor where both your businesses were located.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he replied with a curt nod. “Pleasant morning?” he continued before taking a sip from the coffee in his hand.

“Very,” you answered, wondering why he was asking and just how much coffee this man drank. Come to think of it, in the four years you’ve shared the same building, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him without a coffee in hand. So how he managed to be anything beyond constantly jittery was beyond you. “And yours?”

“Not nearly as much, I’m afraid. But, I’m hopeful my afternoon will prove to be better.”

“One can only hope,” you responded with a tight-lipped smile before tapping your foot impatiently. God, this elevator sure took its sweet time.

Sighing in his own agitation, Ashton reached across your shoulder to stab his index finger into the button. And promptly spilled his coffee down the front of your blouse in the process. “My apologies,” he ushered quickly. You were too busy gasping in shock as the coffee stain caused your blouse to cling to your skin, and the ice melting in your bra to tell if it was sincere or not. But you got your answer when he clicked his tongue, his eyes roaming your heaving chest. “The dry cleaning must cost a fortune,” he mused.

You narrowed your eyes. “I’ll be sure to send you the bill.”

“Can’t wait.” He flashed you a charming smile that had dimples indenting his cheeks. And before either of you could get in another word, the elevator arrived, taking Ashton with it.

Alone, you let out a small growl of rage, stamping your foot for good measure before stalking back down to your offices. “Whoa, what happened to you?” Michael, your business partner asked, his green eyes glinting with slight amusement.

“I’ll give you two guesses,” you hissed through your teeth, moving past him into your personal office, grateful the main floor was empty with everyone off to lunch. Better for only your most trusted companion to see you in such a state.

Michael whistled low, following after you, shutting the door behind him more out of habit than necessity. “Did you really not expect him to get you back after leaving him on the ground floor this morning?”

“Yes. But in a similar fashion. Like closing the doors on me when we leave today. Not dumping his coffee on me,” you griped. You moved over to the small closet you had in your office, selecting out a new blouse, thankful Michael had had the foresight to put in a closet just for moments like this. “Seriously,” you continued, peeling off the fabric still clinging to your skin, the camisole you had underneath just sporting a wet spot that you could easily cover. “Do you think he just has one cup of coffee he just keeps drinking throughout the day? Or is it actually a new coffee every time? How has his heart not jumped out of his chest from that much caffeine?”

“Maybe it’s decaf,” Michael suggested, coughing uncomfortably and studying the floor as you dabbed at the melted ice in your cleavage.”

“Oh, relax,” you scoffed as you discarded the tissues in a small wicker wastebasket before pulling on your new blouse, and doing up the buttons. “I’m wearing an undershirt. Plus it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“You’re still my boss,” he pointed out with a soft chuckle.

“Barely,” you laughed. “You're my business partner, not my employee, Mike.”

“Just your business partner? I thought what we had was special…” he pouted rolling his eyes playfully, earning another laugh from you. Michael Clifford was easily your best friend in the entire world. And if you were to have your choice of who to run a business with, you would pick him every time without hesitation. Because in addition to being your best friend, Michael was wicked smart, and had a personality that made it hard not to like the man. An important attribute that set him apart from the more cutthroat breed of businessmen. “So, what are we doing for lunch, boss lady?”

“That Italian place on Fifth?” you suggested.

“Yes!” he agreed, his mouth watering.

“Perfect. The dry cleaner's next door, so I can drop this off,” you said, gathering your things.

“You should send him the bill,” Michael told you as you walked back out of the offices. “But make them do like one of those fancy ass super cleaning of it. Like the super deluxe version at a carwash. But for your shirt. Really stick it to him.”

“I like where your mind’s at.”

Fate seemed to agree with the plan of sticking Ashton with your dry cleaning bill, as when you walked into the Italian restaurant, you found the man of the hour standing beside the pick up counter. His focus was on the phone in his hand, taking slow sips from the coffee that you were sure was just a permanent feature of his left hand, his eyebrows furrowed together, his lips a tight line of displeasure. But his head snapped to attention as he heard your voice rattle off your order, his scowl changing to a friendly look. “Y/N. Gorgeous top, love. Although I must say, I liked the other one better,” he said as he crossed over to you.

“If you love it so much, then you shouldn’t have a problem collecting it for me,” you smiled sweetly, pressing the clothing ticket in his chest.

You swallowed the bile rising in your throat as his hand curled around yours to grab at the scrap of paper. “It would be my pleasure,” he assured you, before releasing your hand.

Before you could think of a retort, one of the workers called out, “Order for Ashton.”

“That would be me,” Ashton smiled. “See you around, Y/N.”

“Okay…” Michael said after the man disappeared. “Remind me again why you hate him? Coffee incident aside. He doesn’t seem like that terrible of a guy.”

“It’s…” you started before blanking out. Why did you hate Ashton so much? After four years of holding disdain for him, it was hard to work out what had been the original offense that started the rivalry of the 35th floor. “He represents everything I hate about corporate America. He’s a male heading a company.”

“I’m a male heading a company in corporate America…” Michael pointed out. “Well… co-heading. As is Ashton. Calum Hood is as much his business partner as I’m yours.”

“Yes, but you never called me a secretary,” you remembered suddenly.

“Ashton called you a secretary?! When was this?”

You waved a hand in a dismissive fashion, not wanting to relive the memory that had crept up unwanted. “It must have been years ago. And it’s stupid for me to still be offended. It’s not like there’s anything wrong with being a secretary, mind you. You know I don’t think that way. But it was the insinuation that because I was a woman, I couldn’t possibly be interviewing for any other position.”

“Oh, shit… I always forget you interviewed with him before starting our company. But I didn’t realize that had been the reason.”

“I never got to the interview, actually. I got too mad and walked out.”

“And you never looked back,” Michael beamed proudly, trying to cheer you up.

“And I never looked back,” you agreed with a wide smile. “Best decision I ever made was storming out of his office.”

~~~

The next few days passed without incident. Whether it was just mere coincidence or divine intervention, you always managed to be just enough ahead or behind Ashton to avoid having to share an elevator without it being a confrontational power move of who could leave whom stranded and waiting.

On the eighth day of this happening, you began to wonder if Ashton was purposefully avoiding you as you always arrived and left the office at the same time day in and day out. The answer came in the form of a note on your desk after lunch. Mr. Irwin said he had a package delivered to his office that’s yours????

You poked your head out of your office, spotting your assistant at his desk. “Alejandro, did Mr. Irwin happen to mention what the package was?”

“No ma’am. Just that he wanted to know when you’d be by to pick it up. I asked if I could just stop by or if one of his associates could drop it off, but he seemed insistent that it was you who came to get it.”

You clicked your tongue in your cheek. That man… “Alright. Thank you, Alejandro.”

“Not a problem, ma’am. Oh! Also your 2:30 appointment was canceled. Thomas Fletcher. Didn’t give a reason.”

Your tongue clicked again in annoyance. Now your afternoon was completely free. A concept you didn’t like at all.

“You alright, ma’am?”

You forced a smile. “Just dandy,” you replied before taking a few quick steps to Michael’s office next door to yours. “Hey, Mike. Could I bother you for a quick sec?” you asked, rapping your knuckles against his open door before shutting it behind you.

“Course,” he said, rising from his desk chair. “What’s up? You look mad.”

“I’m gonna kill him…” you muttered darkly.

“What did Ashton do now?”

“I don’t know. But he has a ‘package’ for me,” you said, using finger quotes. “And he can’t be bothered to send an associate to send it over, nor will he accept any of mine retrieving it. He’s requesting that I come specifically. And my appointment for this afternoon magically canceled itself. They were so adamant on seeing me as soon as possible yesterday that I shifted things around to be accommodating, and then they canceled. And the name they gave too. Thomas Fletcher? Something’s not adding up. And I’ll bet it’s Ashton’s doing.”

Michael scratched at his jawline in thought. “Hmm… maybe it’s an olive branch. Inviting you over to clear the air, make a truce.”

You scoffed. “Please. What does Ashton know about making peace?”

Michael laughed. “So, you going over there?”

“God, no! If he wants me to be the recipient of whatever this package is personally, he can come here. If he thinks I’m coming to him, he’s sorely mistaken.”

“So go tell him that.”

“I will!” you stated, before retreating out of Michael’s office and back into yours. You took a brief pause to collect the anger coursing through you before picking up your phone and dialing.

“Irwin Industries, how may I direct your call?” a receptionist asked on the second ring.

“Put me through to Ashton directly, please.”

“May I ask who’s calling?”

“He’ll know.”

“Uh… yes ma’am…” was the confused reply before the line trilled again as you were connected to what you hoped was Ashton himself.

One ring. Two. Three. He was testing your patience. Four, then finally, “This is Ashton.”

“A package?” you asked, cutting straight to the chase.

“Ah, Miss Y/L/N. I was hoping this was you. My schedule is a bit cramped this afternoon, but I’m certain I can set aside a few moments for you. What time works for you?”

“You know, it’s complimentary to drop the package off at the right offices if it’s not yours. Not ask the recipient to come collect.”

“Hmm…” he mulled it over, drawing it out. “That would require more of my time… But I suppose I could manage to drop by, yes. Are you available at 2:30?”

“Funnily enough, I am actually.”

“My, that’s quite the coincidence. I’ll see you at 2:30 then.”

“Bring my package, Ashton.”

“Wouldn’t dream of coming without it, darling.”

If you could, you would have ripped your phone from its cords and thrown it right at him, but something told you that might be deemed unprofessional. You settled for a quiet scream instead. And then, you straightened your jacket and set to work. If Ashton was dropping by, you were going to make sure this was the most pristine set of offices he’d ever seen.

~~~

At 2:30 on the nose, the door to your offices opened to reveal Ashton in a black blazer over a red button up with white polka dots on it. The bright red of the shirt with the top buttons undone revealing part of his chest matched the red he had dyed his hair. You hated the perfectly slicked back red locks fit him just as much as his natural brown curls did. He had everything he could possibly want in life that it seemed to be a grave injustice that he could also pull off any hair color. God had favorites and Ashton was one of them, of that you were certain.

From your hidden-from-view vantage point (peeking through your blinds out at the main floor), you watched as Ashton talked in hushed tones to your receptionist before nodding. As he walked confidently amongst the cubicles, you rushed back to sit at your desk, trying your best to look busy. “Hello,” you heard Ashton greeted politely. “I’m here to see Miss Y/L/N. Is she in?”

“Mr. Irwin,” Alejandro gulped. “Let me see if she’s free. I’ll only be a moment,” Alejandro lied for you, and you smiled proudly. There was a reason you’d chosen him for your assistant. There was a knock on your door before it opened to reveal Alejandro. “Miss, a Mr. Irwin is here to see you.”

“Send him in, thank you,” you nodded, rising from your chair and smoothing out your skirt, your hands feeling clammy.

“Of course, miss. Mr. Irwin, she can see you now.”

Alejandro got replaced by Ashton filling your doorway and what appeared to be a dry cleaning garment bag he held over his shoulder by the crook of his index finger. “Miss Y/L/N,” Ashton said, stepping forward to offer you the bag. “I believe this is yours.”

“Oh!” you said in surprise, a wave of shame washing over you. Maybe Michael had been right after all… You came out from behind your desk to shut your office door. “Thank you,” you added as you then took the bag from him, and sure enough, your blouse from last week was there. You moved about the room again to place your blouse on the surface of your desk before turning around to return your attention to Ashton who had taken up residence squarely between the two chairs you had set up before your desk. A standing meeting. How pleasant… Hopefully that meant this would be quick.

“Of course. And again, my sincerest apologies. It actually was an accident. And since I’m apologizing, I might as well apologize for your meeting getting canceled this afternoon. That may or may not have been my doing. Rest assured, it was a joke appointment. Lovely office by the way. I remember what it used to look like before you got here. Was a dump. And you made it… not that way.”

“I thought the name Thomas Fletcher was familiar,” you admitted with a sly smile. “And thank you, again. Both for the blouse and the compliment.”

“Of course. I, uh… Forgive me for asking, but have I done something to offend you? Either now or in the past?”

“Do you seriously not remember?” you questioned, swallowing the hypocrisy that was you having forgotten yourself until only last week. But the memory had resurfaced, and with it your red hot anger on the matter.

“No, I don’t believe I do…”

“You called me a secretary!” you hissed.

~~~

You smoothed down the front of your skirt, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves before pushing open the door to the offices. Telephones rang and people typed away at keyboards. You could see a row of private offices, and a large conference room behind the layout maze of cubicles. But your first focus was the wide wooden desk marked “Reception” with the words “Irwin Industries” on the wall behind the desk in a golden calligraphy script. You had the sinking feeling of being underqualified for the job you were interviewing for, but quickly shook away that feeling. If Ashton Irwin himself had chosen you to interview with out of countless other candidates, there had to be a reason. “Hello,” you smiled at the receptionist. “I’m here for an interview. Y/N Y/L/N.”

The receptionist barely looked at you as they typed in the information. “Yes, he’ll be out shortly.”

“Thank you,” you said, still smiling. Maybe they were just busy. No telling how many interviews they had to keep track of. Curt professionalism over amiable politeness. A willing sacrifice you yourself were just as guilty of every now and then.

The sound of shoes purposefully towards you had you glancing your head towards the sound. The man was uncuffing the sleeves of his white button down, rolling them up his strong forearms. A stubborn curl of brown lay flat across his forehead, and when he raised a finger to push it back with the rest, it fell right back into place. “You must be here for the secretary position. I’m Ashton, I’ll be conducting your interview this morning. If you’ll follow me,” he said, not even bothering to come to a full stop as he started turning around to walk back the way he’d just come from.

“I-” you started, anger coursing through your entire body, warming you from head to toe. A secretary?! Surely if he had the gall to schedule and conduct the interviews himself, he had the character to keep them straight. And the assumption that you were here to interview for the secretary position based on what?! That you were a woman?! Ashton Irwin, you decided in that moment, was everything wrong with corporate America. Which perhaps was too bold a statement for him to bear the weight of alone, but perhaps it was his fault for not checking his callousness at the door. You cleared your throat, not following after him. When he turned, arching an eyebrow in silent question, you shook your head. “I’m afraid there’s been a mistake, Mr. Irwin. I- Apologies for wasting your time. Best of luck to the other candidates.”

As you made your exit, you caught sight of a sign on the offices across the hallway from Irwin Industries that read “For Lease” in big red letters. Pulling out your phone, you quickly dialed your closest friend. “Hey, Y/N!” Michael chirped, “How’d the interview go?!”

“Were you serious about starting a business with me?”

“That bad, huh?”

~~~

“I-” Ashton stammered, the memory as fresh in his mind now as it was yours. “I hadn’t meant it in a rude way,” he went to amend.

“No, you meant it in an assuming way,” you corrected. “Which is far worse. Do you know how many men I’ve dealt with who made that same assumption in the course of my career? Or the fact that I sign all my emails with my partner’s signature along with it so I don’t have to waste precious time proving my worth before I land a client? I have to make sure my credentials look far more impressive than the ones hanging on your wall, because I have to work twice as hard to prove myself to you and everyone else to even attempt at leveling the playing field! And the fact that you, or any man, would dare assume-”

“I didn’t assume,” Ashton cut you off. “I made a mistake. One that I didn’t realize until you had already left. One I didn’t get the chance to apologize for because y- because I found it difficult to find a way to contact you. Until you moved in across the hall a few weeks later, and by then I figured it was too little too late. And that is where I made mistake number two, apparently.”

You blinked, your attack stuck in your throat at his interruption and subsequent confession. “I- Sorry?”

He rolled his eyes as he gave a soft chuckle. “I made a mistake, Y/N. That morning… I had a million other things on my mind, and had been interviewing actual secretaries all morning. And I didn’t realize my error until I looked at your file in my office. Your credentials and resume had impressed me beyond anything I’d ever seen, and honestly the interview was just meant to be a formality because I had already made up my mind about offering you the job. But in my rush, I clumped you in a category that was well beneath your skill set. And believe me, that is a reflection of a frazzled brain, and not my actual opinion of women.”

“I’ve held a grudge against you for four year because of an oversight?” you questioned out loud. This had to be a dream. A very bad, terrible dream. How much time had you wasted hating a man who turned out to not be deserving of your hatred at all?

He giggled, a boyish sound that shocked you. “It would appear so, yes. But, I suppose that’s on me for not clearing the air sooner. Although,” he said, his voice taking on a low rasp that sent good shivers down your spine. “Perhaps it’s for the best that things worked out the way they did. Otherwise we would have run the risk of becoming HR’s worst nightmare.”

You gulped, taking a stumbling step backwards, your hand landing hard on the top of your desk to steady yourself. “Y-you do?” you gasped.

“Mhm,” he said, taking a step forward, his hand landing on top of yours, engulfing it entirely. “I’ve always held a deep admiration for women in positions of power. Much respect, too.” The words were hot on your neck as they filtered in your ears slowly.

You let out a small moan without meaning to, as your eyes fluttered shut. “Well,” you answered airly, your breathing growing heavy. “I’d be happy to reconsider my own opinion of you. If you don’t have other engagements, that is.”

“Hmm, I’d have to check my calendar…” he teased.

“Mmm, yes of course. And I, mine.”

“Hmm…” He peered over your shoulder at the calendar that was upside down at his angle. “Would you look at that,” he marveled before his hands were hot on your hips as he lifted you to sit on the desk, sending your sparse decor-- a placard with your name engraved on it, a steel cup filled with pens, your freshly returned blouse, and the aforementioned desk calendar-- skittering across the desk. “My afternoon just cleared up.”

“Mine did too,” you answered, hooking your finger down the front of his shirt to pull him closer to you, but you only ended up undoing more buttons. But it didn’t matter. Ashton got the memo as his lips crashed into yours, hot and needy.

~~~

Two Years Later

You checked the time on your watch as you rounded the corner, the tall building looming a mere fifty feet away. 8:45 am. Perfect. As you lifted your gaze, your lips curled into a smile as you watched a man walking towards you from the other street corner. His suit lay perfectly flat against his body, just tight enough to show off how well-muscled he was underneath the crisp ensemble. In one hand, he held a cell phone pressed to his ear, and even from the distance you could hear his sharp tone. “How many times do we need to go over this? I am unreachable between 2:30 and 3:15. I have an appointment at that time at which I am not to be disturbed from.” As the man waited for an answer, he managed to take a sip from one of the iced coffees he held balanced on a take out tray in his other hand. “No, Miss Y/L/N is not to be bothered during that time either. Find another associate to schedule them with-- perhaps Mr. Clifford, or Mr. Hood-- or tell the client they need to make themselves available at a different time of day. Thank you.”

“Mr. Irwin,” you smiled back, plucking the other iced coffee from the tray and taking a deep sip. “I find that my employees are a lot more agreeable to do my bidding, and make less mistakes, when I don’t berate them before the work day has even begun,” you commented offhandedly as you both walked towards the elevator.

“Now, pray tell, where have I heard that one before?” he pondered aloud with a bemused look as he hit the button to call the elevator.

“Probably from the smartest woman to ever grace you with her presence.”

“Yes, that must be it,” he agreed as the elevator dinged and the silver mirrored doors opened. “After you,” he gestured, sticking out his arm to hold the doors open. “But, please, don’t leave me behind this time.”

With a giggle, you wrapped your fingers around the knot of his tie, pulling you into the elevator with you, and kissed him the whole ride up to the combined offices of Irwin Y/L/N Corporate on the 35th floor.

Tag List

@aquarius-hood1996 @creator-appreciator @philthepegacorn @myfavfanficsever @cxddlyash @youngblood199456 @stormrider505 @tarltongrl96 @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @hoodhoran @metalandboybands @maybeememez @jlm132xo

#35th floor #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fic #ashton irwin x reader #5sos #calpal irwin

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hartlessfiction · 5 years

Text

Thunder in The Library

I ask for some prompts to help me work on my flash fiction and @migglangelus @spnhell @saltnhalo gave me more than I knew what to do with. Please enjoy this Destiel Flash Fiction based off the words: Spark, Books, Warmth, Clouds and Key.

Title: Thunder in The Library

Rating: Gen

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Destiel

Tags: Warlock Cas, Librarian Cas, Elemental Dean, Cursed Dean, Curses, Fluff, Reunions, Magic is known, Magical Library.

Summary: Castiel’s work as the Head Librarian of The Grand Library of Magic and Lost Artifacts has him away on a last minute trip for far longer than he anticipated. By the time he returns, there’s a certain book who’s less than pleased with his inability to keep his word.

Read on AO3

“No, no, no,” Cas mumbles, frustration settling like a lead weight in his stomach. All around him the Great Library sits quiet and still. Dust floats like slowly drifting snowflakes through the warmly slanted afternoon sunbeams, the calm drifts disturbed into swirling vortexes by his hurried shuffle across the polished marble.

The comfortable stillness is broken again by the low rumble of distant thunder. Cas puts on a burst of speed. It’s not dignified to run through the Great Library, it’s not dignified for the Librarian to run through the library, never mind anybody else.

But here he is, trotting with long strides down past Cirien Croin, Your Sea Serpent and You, Copper Cauldron Care, and Corporeal Dissonance Disorder: The Complete Guide to Finding Yourself after Astral-projection. Counting shelves, Cas curses the sweat trickling down his back, the pressure in the air growing thicker the closer he gets to his destination. His shirt clings uncomfortably to his skin.

“Clouds, clouds, clouds,” Cas mumbles to himself pulling on the bottom of his waist coat. Finding the correct shelf he rolls his shoulders back, runs his fingers through his hair a few times, and clears his throat.

“Dean,” Cas rumbles, displeasure clear in his tone. Two of the books shift along the shelf, trembling and jumping slightly. Cas’ frown depends. “Dean!” Cas snaps, and thunder rumbles around him.

“This is…” Cas huffs a breath, licking his lips and shifting angrily from one foot to the other. “Dean, come out. Now, please.”

In response, the books shutter across the shelf, tiny sparks of light erupting from the spine of the smaller green book, like the light at the end of a Fourth of July sparkler. Cas pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing roughly he growls, “Deaaann!”

Abruptly, the temperature drops and overhead, lightning crackles. Clouds roll in far too thick and too quickly for a quiet afternoon in The Library. They rapidly obscure the topmost shelves of the towering bookcases bracketing Cas’ front and back.

“Don’t you dare,” Cas warns, “Dean. Don’t you dare.”

As the last word leaves his mouth the clouds swell and dump cold, clean rainwater down over his head. Instantly Cas is soaked, and after a moment the absurdity gets to him and he tilts his head back, laughs bubbling from deep inside of him.

“My love,” he says softly, head tipped back so the rain falls softly over his face, slides down his cheeks, clumps his eyelashes together. He blinks up at the clouds, warmth suffusing his limbs, expanding in his chest, making his heart thump hard. Nothing around him is wet, there aren’t even puddles on the floor under his soaked loafers.

The book, with its bright green binding and gold inlaid font flops off the shelf and falls open on the floor. The pages blow back and forth rapidly, though there’s no wind to disturb anything else. Castiel kneels down, and the rain peters off to a gentle shower, the clouds overhead lighten from an angry grey to a pleasant soft fluffy white.

Cas strokes his fingers over the page and small excited sparks flash, popping with pent up energy. “Come, my sweet. I am sorry I’ve been gone so long. The annex in Amsterdam was infested with sprites, they were eating the pages right out of the books. You know how I feel about my books.”

Overhead thunder cracks and lightning scorches across the low hanging clouds. Cas’ hair stands on end and he frowns.

“How could you think that? Come out here right now.” Cas snaps his fingers, his magic surging down his arm, flowing out of him like a typhoon. Instantly the clouds melt away, his clothes dry, and his hair relaxes against his scalp. Adjusting his waistcoat Cas clears his throat. “Dean, please. I’ve missed you so.”

With a soft sigh, a swirling fog rises, wispy and light, iridescent and lovely, from the open pages. Slowly, it takes form and Cas smiles leaning back. Color bleeds into the soft white myst; bright green eyes with long dark lashes, and a freckled nose.

“There we go,” Cas coaxes, quietly standing. The myst follows him, growing taller and wider, more substantial until a man, solid as Cas is, steps from the pages and onto the floor. He grins cheekily, then bites his lip, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans and blushes, looking down.

“Hey. Cas,” he says quietly, his voice as low and deep as the thunder he called forth earlier.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says, a smile curving his lips. “Quite the tantrum.”

Dean rolls his eyes and taps the toe of his boot against the marble floor. With a huff he bends and picks his book up, turns it over between his fingers before slipping it into his back pocket.

“Yeah, well, you were supposed to be back two weeks ago. And then I have to hear from Kevin that you’re back? Kevin! In records? Not only that but you got back two days ago?”

Cas hums softly, nodding along. Yes, he should have come to see Dean first but he had slightly more pressing matters to attend to. Matters that had kept him away far too long and simply could not wait. Plus, Cas has convinced himself that he could not show his face to Dean until he’d discovered the key to the mystery that had kept him away from his love. Luckily, Dean’s tantrum came just as the solution presented itself.

“I’m sorry,” Cas says softly, reaching out to cup Dean’s jaw. A static jolt jumps between the space of their skin, shocking Cas before he can even touch Dean. “Ow! Really, Dean?”

Dean turns away, sulking, his lips pursed. Cas sighs, a smile curling over his features.

“I’ve brought you something…”

“From outside?” Dean turns, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Of course, would you like to see it?”

The ploy only works for a second and then Dean’s eyes narrow, thunder rumbles and the air pressure in the room drops.

“Do you want to see what kept me?” Cas asks again, reaching into his pocket, “Or are you going to continue to pout?”

Since Dean befell the curse that locked him into the pages of his book, his power as an elemental sealed almost totally away, he’s yearned for a taste of the outside. Of the world and nature he was once so connected to. But more than that, he yearns for kin; for his kin.

“Yes, show me. But you’re not off the hook,” Dean warns, stepping into Cas’ space like he owns it, like he belongs there. And he does. A cautious childlike smile tilts his lips.

“Of course not, I wouldn't dream of it,” Cas indulges, pulling the chain from his pocket and letting the small amulet dangle from his fist.

“Wow,” Dean breathes lifting a hand to ghost his fingers over the burnished golden figure head. “What is it?” Wonder laces his words and Cas’ heart constricts.

“It’s an amulet.”

“No shit.”

“Let me clarify,” Cas says, reaching out and lifting Dean’s hand, turning it palm up. “It.. is possibly, more appropriately known as, The Samulet.”

Cas lays the amulet in Dean’s palm and the reaction is immediate. The small charm glows bright like starlight, filling the space with blinding white light. Cas shields his eyes as it takes over, whiting out his vision. When the glow fades, Dean's free hand is clutching tight to Cas’ bicep, he’s breathing in small stilted gasps, his eye wide and glassy with unshed tears.

“Sam…” he chokes out, his fingers slipping from Cas’ arm to reach for the towering man now standing beside them.

“D–Dean,” Sam chokes rushing forward to embrace his brother.

“How long? How many eons?” Dean mumbles into the curve of Sam’s shoulder and Cas feels his throat constrict. He shuffles back a step, ready to give them some long overdue privacy when Dean’s hand snaps out and grabs Cas, stilling him.

“Cas,” he breathes, and there is so much there in that one word, in his name. So much emotion held in that one syllable that Cas can only nod, swallowing roughly. “Thank you.”

And then Cas is wrapped up in Dean’s arms, his body cradled in warmth and strength. Dean presses a kiss to his lips, his eyes closed so tight, so trusting. Tipping his forehead against Cas’ he breathes, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me until we break the curse and free you both.”

Dean pulls back and smiles, it's like the sunrise, bright and warm, with so much potential that it makes Cas’ breath catch.

“If anyone can do it, it’s you.” With a squeeze to Cas’ shoulder Dean turns back to his brother, slipping the amulet over his head and crossing it as it lands against his chest. “I have so much to tell you,” he says.

“Me too,” Sam chokes, tears slipping free from his eyes. “Me too.”

Tagging:

@foxymoley @cryptomoon @tobythewise

#castiel #destiel #dean winchester #profoundnet #spn #supernatural #flash fiction #one word prompts #hartless writes #magical cas #magical dean #curses #fluff #spn fluff fic

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