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bountybossier · 4 years

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Don’t Be F*ckin’ Rude | Julie & Nic

This.

With: @purelikeviolence

“Get the fuck out of here.”

Julie didn’t enjoy being manhandled by the bouncer and might have fought back but whatever, fuck him. She’ll find another bar to bother. “Don’t fucking touch me,” she broke out of his grip as they exited the bar. She glanced over the other guy who got thrown out as well. “This is all your fucking fault.” She grumbled, blaming him for getting kicked out. They both lost their temper and thought fighting in bars was a good idea. Julie didn’t particularly enjoy fighting but the asshole got some good punches in. She hated that. Much rather enjoyed someone else doing the punches for her. Arms crossed against her chest, she started walking just behind him, not wanting to walk alongside him but they were going the same way.

How many fucking times was Nicodemus going to have his drinking time interrupted? Apparently, it was just going to push itself up into the hundreds whether he bitched about it or not. Since when did bar fights not get sorted out inside and they just cracked open a cold one? They didn’t do that in White Crest and he added that to his white board of his reasons that the town blew ten ways to Sunday. His knuckles smarted and he flexed his fingers. And now he was getting blamed. “Oh, is it? Who was the one that threw the bottle?” He was annoyed, but it was also a little funny. “This ain’t the only bar, you’ll find another one.” He heard her walking behind him and paid little mind to it, until heavier footfalls followed and approached. Quick. “Hey asshole!” A voice not hers called out. The hunter turned on his heel and squinted at a pack of frat kids. He grunted. “Which one? There’s two here.”

Julie gave a smug smile, recalling how the events transpired and proud of what went down. It’s not her fault some people just can’t handle their alcohol and say rude things in return. Just like how it isn’t her fault if she retaliates because of said rudeness. As she heard people heading toward them she turned, wondering what the fuck they wanted. “Fuck off, alright?” Julie waved them off, not needing them to bother her because they definitely we’re talking about her right.

“Both you and your friend.”

“He’s not my friend.” Julie said but still didn’t know if they were talking about this dude or her. Didn’t matter though. The way they started to run toward both of them said plenty. Julie slid back her foot, took her stance… and waited.

Nicodemus rolled his eyes at her cheeky smile. Deep, deep, down, he wished he had been the one to think of throwing a bottle. At least they shared the same sentiment in regards to the Frat Pack ahead of them. God, he really wasn’t in the mood to beat up children. “Yeah, what she said, fuck off. Ain’t gonna ask you a second time.” The lead bro scoffed with his entire body, the wax bits of his hair quivering. “You bumped into my bro, brah,” the younger man said. “When you and that chick decided people needed to catch hands.” Nic’s brows shut up and he glanced at the woman next to him. “Huh, he just called you that chick.”

The hunter was glad that they stopped talking and went for the direct approach. He was tired of talking anyway and he was still pissed from not finishing his drink. The first haymaker he threw out felt like coming home after a long day and he grinned.

The guys were easy to maneuver around, they were slow as fuck so just a timed hit and Julie struck at his stomach with her leg and pulled down on him by his head. Gravity did the rest, toppling his drunk ass over. She grimaced at the sight of her new bar friend just straight up punching one of the frat guys. Just all brawn, no technique, typical. Having been preoccupied judging her companion’s fighting style, one of the guys thought it would be cool to just grab her and pick her up. Really? Asshole. Swinging her leg up, she managed to bring it down on his knee. As he winced in pain he brought her low enough for her to get to her feet and once again use his own weight and lack of balance against him. She leaned over just a bit, the frat guy’s weight allowing both of them to roll with more strength but her roll was softened by his body while his back met the hard asphalt. It really wasn’t fair. These guys didn’t know fuck all about fighting but it was an advantage she’d abuse.

Whatever Julie did in her life, she had a hell of a lot more intensive training than Nicodemus did. He had his bar and prison yard fights, sure, but watching her was something else. He'd need to pick that up somewhere. Somewhere he wasn't in the middle of pressing his forearm against a man's throat and looking him in the eyes. This wasn't that kind of fight and the frat kid wasn't that kind of monster. He was just a drunk fuck that couldn't let something go. Instead, Nic headbutted him and shoved him back. The younger man crumpled at the impact and went down hard. Copper burst along the inside of his mouth and colored his teeth red as a fist caught his lip. It wasn't much to him, but the intent behind it was enough. Alright, he could work with that. The new threat turned from him long enough that the hunter hooked his arms under his and caught him there, fingers entwined behind the frat kid's neck. He looked up at Julie, spat the blood out of his mouth, and called out. "Y'mind?"

“What,” Julie played dumb, “need help fighting your battles?” She asked as she walked closer. Without a second thought, her hand shot out, smacking the side of the frat guy’s head and he was out like a light. She looked around and the rest of them were still recovering but backing away. It seemed they had taken care of them and they weren’t drunk enough to still keep fighting. “Let’s get out of here before one of them calls the cops and ruins the rest of our night.” She told the other guy, the two of them now joined together by this fight. Maybe they could find another bar and she’d buy him a drink or two. Nothing more than that. “Come on, I think there’s a bar up ahead.” She picked up her step, wanting to create distance between that mess. “So, what’d you say your name was?” She figured they had earned each other’s names now.

Nicodemus’s eyes rolled back so hard he saw his previous life, but even then, he grinned when he heard the smack and the guy in his arms became dead weight. Without much, he tossed the guy into the nearest trash bag. Last thing he needed was for him to crack his head on the concrete and die or something inconvenient like that. The hunter rolled his wrists as the others groaned and pulled themselves away from the pair. “You can say that shit again. Last thing I want is some fuckin’ boy scouts showin’ up.” Not too bad for a back alley bar room brawl, he thought. And they still weren’t done for the night. He glanced at her with a sly grin and shook his head. “Yeah? Round two?” He laughed and spat the blood out from his mouth before he picked up in pace to meet her stride. Already, it was starting to slowly mend itself and they’d be off to another bar like nothing even happened. “Nic works fine. You?”

Julie watched as he spit blood and grimaced. “Who the hell taught you to fight that you managed to get bitch slapped so hard by a frat guy that he made you bleed? Embarrassing.” Julie would have sooner died than to get herself knocked around by some human. She’d wrestled with many over the years and it’s been a while since any human has gotten the best of her in a fight. Grabbed her, yanked her but she always ended up turning it around. “I’m Julie,” she introduced herself, still keeping her eyes on this Nic guy. He talked funny. Not an accent she’s heard before. “Where the fuck are you from?” Her voice had no malice in it despite the swear, it was just how she talked to people. Most people (especially online) didn’t really get that. Was his accent southern? It sounded southern. American accents were difficult for her - she didn’t have the most experience with them as she did with others.

“Oh fuck off, Iip’s still healin’ up from the fuckin’ bull fight I had yesterday,” Nicodemus rebutted. The werewolf had headbutted him so hard it knocked the headache out of him and jostled something loose, let alone split his lip something ugly. Hell, that was half the reason he had been at the bar they were at earlier. “A big fuck named Samson and I’m pretty sure he’s dead in a hole somewhere, so I think I’m doin’ alright.” Julie, as she introduced herself, was a breath of foul-mouthed fresh air in White Crest and Nic grinned. “Hell of a hand you got there, Julie. Who taught you that shit?” He huffed at her question. “The swampy ass of Louisiana. Not from here either, huh?” Lo and behold there absolutely was another bar down the way and he went in first, not bothering to hold the door for Julie. She could knock a shithead out, she could get her own door.

A bull fight? Where the fuck does that take place in town? Julie kinda wanted to check that out. “You fight a lot of bulls?” She asked, curious. Considering the way he fought, she didn’t take too much pride in his compliment. It was clear no one taught him anything like she knew. He just swung and Julie supposed, it worked for him. He was stronger, heavier while Julie was lighter and (unfortunately) weaker in terms of strength. Every move mattered for her, each blow needed to land. “Dad taught me,” the mention of him made her sick. “Until I started kicking his ass and I taught myself.” Now that Julie got the fight out of her she was sure there would be no fights at this new one. At least not until she had a drink. She followed Nic, sitting alongside. “So you gonna buy me a drink for saving your ass back there?” It wouldn’t hurt to ask right? “I’m from Singapore, actually. So, I’m new to the states here.”

“Somethin’ like that, yeah. Just wait ‘till rodeo.” Bulls seemed like a better explanation than giant fucking bats, demon moose critters, or fucking werewolves. Nicodemus wasn’t fighting any of that shit at the moment. He was fighting a raging headache and had just fought the bro committee, with her help no less. Now he just needed a drink to play nurse and he’d feel better. Even with his jangly nerves and senses, they were still beating strong. Something was near, he just couldn’t tell what. “Wish I coulda kicked my dad’s ass, but the fuckin’ coward upped and died before I could.” That was the case as far as he knew. The hunter got the attention of the bartender with a half-assed wave. “Whiskey on the rocks. Whatever she wants is on me. The first one at least,” he said as he gave her a dry smirk. “Saving my ass. Right. But Singapore?” He couldn’t help his curious expression. “Long way from home then. Personal or business?”

The fucks rodeo? The question lingered on her mind but she chose not to ask - honestly she didn’t care to know about this weirdo and his bull riding. “So kick his dead body’s ass,” Julie suggested with a shrug of her shoulders. At least his dad was in the ground. Julie could only guess what the fuck hers was up to. She hoped he was dead. Ugh, those were enough thoughts about her father for like the whole year. “I’ll just get whatever dark beer you guys have on tap.” She had already drank plenty at the other bar. She didn’t need to get shitfaced or start another fight. “I’m from Singapore. Didn’t say I came from there. I’m visiting someone.” It was all she was willing to give.

The hunter rasped out a loud laugh. Well shit, now why hadn’t he thought of that? Hell below, Nicodemus actually liked talking to Julie. It was a rare fucking occurence for him to enjoy talking to anyone. She was no bullshit. Take none and give little. A sentiment he appreciated. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll do that when I find it.” He didn’t want to talk about deadbeat, distant. It didn’t sour his mood, really, but it also did fuck all to improve it. Not like whiskey did, which he immediately took hold of and started drinking. “Alright, fair enough. The poor fuck willingly put themselves here? Goddamn.” The hunter shook his head and tapped his fingers against the bartop. The irony of his statement wasn’t lost on him. “Guess we’re all just poor fucks then, huh? Some of us maybe.”

Once she was poured her drink Julie grabbed it and chugged almost half of it. It wasn’t that bad but fighting made her thirsty so she needed it. “Speak for yourself, you poor fuck,” Julie scoffed before looking at him. “What are you doing here then?” Where was he from again? Fuck, she couldn’t even remember. Even if she did, she wouldn’t have known its distance from where they were. America was a puzzle for her. Not one she ever bothered to solve. “I take it you came willingly?” Who the fuck would do that? “You enjoying the mime and moose shit?” Probably was one of those. Then again he didn’t really strike her as a tourist. He didn’t seem that excited to be in the town like some of the tourists she’s interacted with.

“Ain’t gonna argue that. What’s that make you then, a charitable asshole for sittin’ with a poor fuck like me?” Nicodemus laughed, the fight from just a few moments ago leaving him in a pleasant mood. He didn’t even need the whiskey for that. “Here for work,” he said plain enough. “Bounty hunting. Don’t got one of those, do you? We both might after that...” If she did, he didn’t care. He only went after the ones he wanted to and after everything, he figured he was as good as done for the day. “I go where the work is, so yeah, willingly enough. I don’t plan on fuckin’ about here long,” he said and even as he said it, he was unsure. Typically, he stayed maybe a couple weeks. It was going on a month or more now. “You findin’ work here or what?” He took another drink. “Nah, the mimes don’t do shit for me and I’m just waiting for one of the moose to gore the shit out of somebody. It’d spice things up.” He turned slightly in his chair to look at Julie. “You know they got two fuckin’ mime places?”

“Hey, if the shoe fits.” Julie said with a shrug as she reached for her drink once more. She was just shitting him though, the last thing she’d call herself was charitable. Giving a smirk, she shook her head as she kept her eyes on her drink. “Not in this name,” she teased. “Not yet.” Julie has thankfully never had a bounty on her - ever. Her name was never given. Maybe people looked for her but she’s never found anyone doing so, so she must either be lucky or they must have been horrible at their jobs. Unlike her. “I doubt anyone’s gonna put a bounty on us for kicking some frat boys’ asses. Probably a typical Friday night for them.” The most that would happen would be sometime down the line they run into them again and they have to kick their ass one more time. “Yeah I don’t plan on sticking around here too long either.” However she was already here longer than she would have been usually but this one was particularly difficult. She snorted at the mention of the mime places. “Yeah, I think they have a bar. I sure as hell am not going over there for a drink. What the fuck is it with having to mime your orders? That’s so - I don’t know how those things stay open.”

“Not this name, huh?” Nicodemus repeated with a huff. He tapped his fingers against the bartop. Usually he gave Asher as a name to anyone that asked, typically clients and the ones he couldn’t be bothered to give a fuck about. But in White Crest, he had given more people his real name in two months than he had his entire lifetime. The thought was fucking weird and his nose scrunched at it. “Well, I’ll be sure to let my eyes just skip on over it if I see it.” He said with a tip of his glass, eyes slightly closed as he tipped his drink back to finish it. “Yeah, probably not. They might start callin’ us heroes.” Ah shit. What if those guys had been affiliated with Walker? Oh well. It was fine. If it ever came up at the Silver Bullet, it wouldn’t be hard to explain to a fellow hunter that they struck first and the pair of them had finished it. “Guess we’ll see which one of us gets the fuck out of here first.” He ordered himself another drink, scanned across the bar to look at every face that sat there the same as they did. How many people were just passing through in White Crest? Never in any other town had he met so many...interesting individuals. Maybe the town was cursed to burden people with connection. “How do you think one of those mime fuckers fights?” The question was serious, his brow furrowed. “Think they react the same to gettin’ punched in the teeth?”

He’d skip over her name just because she backed him in a bar brawl? Damn, Julie could only imagine what he’d do for someone who was nice to him. And he was a bounty hunter? She was sure all she had to do was give him some puppy eyes and he’d forget all about her bounty. She wasn’t about to call him a shitty bounty hunter though. “The mimes?” Julie wasn’t even thinking about that and had to take a moment and another sip of her drink. “The same as anyone else?” How the fuck else would they act? They were just performers after all weren’t they? “That’d probably make them break character…I don’t fucking know. Why? You wanna go test it out?” Not that Julie was against going up to someone and straight decking them in the face but she liked to have a reason - ah fuck that, she’d punch just about anyone for no apparent reason.

“Fuck yeah I wanna test it out.” Nicodemus said, face screwed up as if he was surprised that she might not want to. He shook his head and tossed back his whiskey. “When’s the next time we’ll get the opportunity to fight a goddamn mime horde?” The hunter flashed Julie a grin and bought them another round. He had plenty of money to spare and if they were going to spend the rest of their night shooting the shit over fighting stuff, then they would need more drinks. And they did just that until it was closing time.

#wickedswriting #chatzy #chatzy: dont be fckin rude #c: julie #im crying i love these assholes

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tarithenurse · 6 years

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Undercover ch. 5

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader Contents: language, mention of prostitution/abuse/rape/violence, angst A/N: Took the liberty of adding a few people (who’ve either reposted or liked all chapters) to the tag list because we’re getting closer to the end.

5 - Double Agent

Walking in a haze of smoke, sweat, and alcohol fumes created by the many guests at the club, it was as if I had been split in two. One part of me was trapped inside my own body, a prison decorated to look like fragile enough to be broken into pieces at the smallest jolt. The other part was walking a few steps to the side and watching everything in slow motion. Delicate, black and blue lace partly visible under a black silken robe that only covered enough to remind everyone that I wasn’t up for grabs like the other girls. I was halfway through the crowded room when I saw a shadow detach itself from a corner table in the shadows. The boss. There was no easy way to escape him, and so I kept walking instead. Each step was in perfect synchronicity to the beat of the music, making my hips dip and lift the way the men liked it as I passed them by.

“Glory.” The part inside me clawed at the living prison at the way his fingers curled around my left wrist and the unspoken warning in his feathery voice. “You look stunning tonight.”

The detached me reminded me to smile, to put on the mask I’d gotten used to wear since I became one of his workers. It was all a part of a creepy, messed up show: the invisible mask, the makeup, the lingerie, the boos and drugs and fear that kept us from running when someone hurt us, or fucked us, or worse. Hold on, my detached mind whispers soothingly, just a bit longer.

“Of course, boss, I represent you whenever I walk across these floors.” The voice that left my lips was honeyed the way we’ve learned he likes.

It was too dark to see the colour of his eyes, but not the sparkle of malice and pride. “Good girl. Make me proud, then.”

I could feel his fingers sliding over my skin and the capped ring that felt foreign and heavy on my hand, but I resumed my parade towards the doors with the intricate pattern painted on in purple, red, pink, and gold. Flames and feathers hinting at female figures. I might have found them beautiful in my old life…in this one they made me nauseous.

But Fabio was right behind me, his presence forcing me silently to move on like nothing was wrong, and in a sense, it was a relief to enter the hallway beyond the doors because of the relative silence there. The music reverberated through the wooden floor still, just not enough to drown out the muffled sounds from some of the “play rooms” we were passing all the way till the very last at the end. Chernyy won’t be in there yet. The customer never waits for the ware in this place, ensuring in return that everything can be controlled…including the tiny recording devices hidden in strategic places.

…

The candles were lit (it was the only “play room” where we got to use real candles), the champagne was bobbing in the ice bucket with the foil and wire off, and the silk sheets were pulled aside on the immense four poster bed. Apart from that, the only other furniture was a chair and a low dresser, both made in the same dark and heavy wood.

It’s gonna be okay, I kept reminding myself, just breathe! Stopping my pacing across the hard stones of the floor, I closed my eyes and inhaled slowly through my nose while counting. After three I began to exhale through my mouth, pushing the spent air out of my lungs for a beat longer. Again. In and out, helping me regain a measure of control over my own body. I hadn’t said or done anything that could get me in trouble with the boss even if this woman turned out to be nothing but a test of my loyalty, and I hadn’t done anything to her, that would get her in trouble…yet. Staring down at the ring, it weighed like lead and threatened to pull me to the floor with it, it made my hand feel cold. Foreign. Like it wasn’t mine. Maybe, if I pretend to be sick? Then the boss won’t let me go through with it ‘cause it bad for – The sharp knock on the door interrupted my thoughts, and I barely had time to find a pose with the dark silk sliding off my shoulder before the door opened to let in Chernyy.

She was a vision. The red hair curled perfectly to let it bounce at every step she took, framing the angelic face with the intelligent eyes and crooked smile that I’d somehow memorized already. She must have come straight from the street, because she was still wearing a long coat that was wet with rain and tied securely around her waist. Sure, it was buttoned all the way up, and somehow it still didn’t manage to hide the shape of her body and, judging by the black leather boots that disappeared up under the coat, neither would whatever she was wearing underneath.

Tearing my eyes away, I looked to Fabio who was still standing in the door. “Thanks, I’ve got it from here.” The man looked bummed when he closed the door, but to me it was the first time I felt I could breathe. “Chernyy, was it?” Play coy, even though we both know the game. Pulling myself up, I gave her time to look me over.

“For now.” There were sparkles in the steel of her eyes. “Stand there for just a bit longer.”

She began to open the coat while walking to the chair, pulling it off with her back still to me. Not only was she wearing leather boots, her entire outfit was a catsuit that hugged her every curve. Conjuring a phone from somewhere in the tight suit, she tapped efficiently at the screen for a moment.

“I’m happy your boss agreed to let me have this time with you,” her fingertips were still dancing over the smooth screen, “even if it’s just to find out more about me.” I could see the silhouette of her cheek rise on a smile. “There! Shit, I thought Daniel Stein would’ve more advanced tech.”

“What did you just do?” Someone must have taken and dumped me in ice water.

She was in front of me in two steps, holding out her hands for me to take and smiling like an old friend. “It’s okay, [Y/N]. I’ve knocked out the surveillance and they won’t even know for the next 20 minutes because it’s a delayed loop they use. Cheapskates.”

She knows my name! Everything felt unreal and it wouldn’t have surprised me if I’d woken up in my bed. But I didn’t, and the woman kept talking even though I wasn’t really listening. Her coming here, dangling freedom in front of my nose, simply couldn’t be a trick anymore, because the boss wouldn’t have bothered to go that far with it if he suspected anyone had turned against him. This woman was serious. She thought she could get me out of the hell hole that was the club. But why? People didn’t have a habit of showing up unannounced to rescue hookers like me.

“Who are you?”

Chernyy’s eyes widened momentarily at my question before she recomposed herself. Guiding me to sit on the edge of the bed, the mysterious woman took my hands in one of hers as she sat down to my left carefully placing the phone on the glistening sheet.

Her eyes bored into my very soul. “I need you to listen carefully to everything I say, and I need you to trust me if you want to get out of here.” Trust…it felt like a lot, but how could my life get worse than it was? Biting my lip, I nod demurely. “Good. My name is not Chernyy, it’s Natasha Romanoff and I’m an agent working with the Avengers and formerly SHIELD.”

These were names I had heard when pretending to be just a pretty face, so I knew most people in this place would pay good money to either kill or capture this woman, or agent, and I had heard how the Avengers had saved New York from aliens a year ago. However, other than that there was very little I or the other girls new about the real world out there, because Daniel Stein made sure to keep us in a bubble, cut off from reality and laced with fear and guilt and apathy. We didn’t know what to expect out there anymore or where to go…and most of us had no one to turn to if we did get away.

“[Y/N].” Chernyy, or rather Natasha, squeezed my hand gently, bring my thoughts back to the moment. “What we do, my team and SHIELD, is to keep the world safe and make sure the bad guys are caught before they cause more damage. Terrorists. Some of them are or were connected to an organization called HYDRA, and they have a huge network to ensure their plans succeed.”

“Like the mafia…” I knew about criminals and killers, “like my boss.”

It made sense. From this place you would have access to everything you’d need to become a real danger to both random people and big organisations or nations, in this world everything was readily available as long as you could pay cash, cash that could also be earned here.

“Like Daniel Stein, yes. Our intel has confirmed that he’s a cornerstone in HYDRA’s foundations in Euro-Asia. If taken out, it’ll take months or maybe even years for them to recover!”

Dangerous terrorist or not, any of us girls would love to see the boss and his violent goons get their asses kicked…well those of us that were still alive and capable of thinking longer than the next score would. We would have been willing to risk our lives for it. Maybe Natasha Romanoff knew that, maybe it was just a lucky guess, but whatever the case she began explaining what they new of the three buildings that were my boss’s base: the club, his home, and the slum-like building where he kept us. Looking at the maps and blueprints projecting into the air from Natasha’s phone, I could add a few details about doors and tunnels that she and her people didn’t know about.

“What do you need me to do?” I hadn’t forgotten what she had said the first time I’d met her, and I was ready to do my part and help even if it scared me. “How can I…how can I he-elp?” The words didn’t come out strong like I wanted.

“You already have.” A crooked smile slid over her face as she studied me. “Today and twice before.”

Careful to keep strange spy-expression out of it, the woman explains briefly about what she had done the other times we’ve met, like the very first time, where she’d placed a tracker on my back to help them get a feeling for the extent of the domicile. It had been nothing but a tiny sticker, capable of adapting to almost any skin colour but its primary purpose was to send a signal to their gear, showing where I was. Maybe I should have been pissed off by that. She had used me without waiting for my consent…and so what? That was my life. At least it had been for something I would have accepted if she’d given me the chance and not knowing had ensured I hadn’t had to lie about that too. Then there had been the napkin. It had surprised me a tiny bit that there hadn’t been some secret message on it, but my logic took over, telling me that the risk would have been too great, and I dismissed the idea.

“It registered handprints?!” Yeah, right! I knew the Avengers had to be pretty high-tech but that was just ridiculous.

The smirk was audible, proving how smug she felt about her job and the gear they had. “Yeah, we almost lost it when you walked away with it though…thankfully, we have a couple of contacts.”

Curiosity and hope was flickering like a tiny flame in my chest and I instinctively hid it by looking at our entwined fingers in my lap. Maybe these other people could help me and the other girls. Maybe, just maybe, they would testify against my boss and put an end to his so-called business run on slavery and violence. But if that was the case…then why had they never tried to help us already? No, none of the people at the other side of the painted double doors were our allies, and why would she, a supposedly professional agent and hero, tell me these things? She knew my name, but she didn’t know me, and she was running a huge risk, counting on me not to go back and save my hide by telling Daniel Stein everything…and even if I didn’t want to, he had ways of making people talk. Natasha couldn’t be sure I wouldn’t rat on her. Yes, she can. Suddenly her fingers around mine felt like cuffs, her arms like chains. Her touch might have been light, but I knew all to well that that could change in an instance and I would be gripped in inescapable iron claws at the mercy of the other person. In my past, it had been men who would flip on me and the girls at the smallest imagined slight, and I’d suffered their wrath for weeks after, hiding the marks under thick layers of makeup…and I’d been grateful. They hadn’t killed me. They had let me live to beat me or rape me some other time. Glancing at the metallic blue eyes before me, a chill ran down my spine and spread as paralyzing goosebumps as I realized she wouldn’t just break me and leave me. She’ll kill me to prevent me from talking. Shifting awkwardly on the edge of the bed, I ran my chances of using the ring on her through my head. The odds of getting to Fabio before she got me were considered in less than a heartbeat.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, voice laden with the same kindness as the first time I’d met her, “but I won’t hurt you. I’m taking you away from this place.” Somehow, I managed to stay stock-still as she cupped my cheek. “Tonight.”

#marvel #MCU #mcu fanfiction #natasha romanoff #natalia romanova #Black Widow #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natalia romanova x reader #Undercover #undercover ch 5 #fanfiction #writing

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danvssomethingorother · 7 years

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Kindred Souls (P4)

A03

Parts: 1 / 2 / 3

Summary: Yondu groaned, why couldn’t the brat fight back? Bite, kick, punch, scream, anything but this. This wasn’t helping Yondu’s case of turning him into a ravager, this was just making Yondu do something he hadn’t done in a very long time, feel sympathy for another life form. (Or my AU where Peter was abused on Earth and Yondu helps him recover from that abuse)

Chapter Summary: Peter and Kraglin bonding

Warnings: None for this part.

Peter was sleeping soundly late the next morning, a soft whistle sounding from the boy with each breath.

Yondu snorted at the noise but didn’t move to disturb the boy or leave the area instead waited for Kraglin to show up, right on time like usual. The cabin boy kept up this good work and he might find himself as the first mate someday (he usually went through those quickly anyhow for one reason or another).

Kraglin frowned seeing his captain relaxed on the cot, bare foot, jacket tossed on the ground as comfortable as he could be and the boy still nowhere in sight. Kraglin, the loyal little sod he was, didn’t question his captain about it simply sat the tray down in the cell like he had every morning since they got the boy.

“Ya want something from the mess too, Sir?” he asked simply, eyes still curiously scanning the cell.

“Coffee. Make it black.”

“No breakfast?”

“Ya already got it right there in yer hand, the boy don’t want to eat much and I doubt he will trust it unless I take some bites off it first.”

“Did ya get him to eat anything at all?”

Yondu glanced under the cot peering at the sleeping boy, clinging tight to his music player and noticed the empty glass and missing food.

“The boy is a fungus,” Yondu grunted, “Only takes water and a tiny bit of substance and needs to stay in a dark cool areas.”

Kraglin wasn’t sure if that was right since he had read Terrans biology was similar to his own race but were a few centuries back on the evolution scale (just like with everything else on that primitive rock) but only responded with a look of disbelief, which the captain grunted at.

“I’ll be back with yer coffee soon, Sir.”

Yondu was once more alone with nothing but the little snores coming from under the bed. He grunted bored as ever but defiantly stayed where he was.

He heard Peter moaning and straightened feeling him moving under there. A few minutes came and went and nothing really became of the boys almost pained groans, he settled on his own and fell back asleep.

Yondu understood this. The nightmares were bad but they were nothing compared to the real thing, it was best to leave him be while he settled himself down.

Kraglin, right on time as usual, arrived before Peter woke up or stopped whimpering in his sleep. Kraglin peered curiously under the cot but Yondu snatching the coffee from him, bringing his attention back to his duties.

Yondu watched the boy disappear once more and smirked, best decision of his life giving the boy a chance to prove himself. Best worker on the whole ship, didn’t give him lip and followed every order to a T.

Worthless in a fight (Yondu already had to depose of three of his crew to save the boy’s neck), couldn’t really hold his blaster right and crashed his M Ship twice already but that was alright, Yondu would make a proper man of him yet just like he would do to the one under him.

He picked up the tray the boy had left behind and took large bites from most of it leaving behind enough for Peter before setting is aside. He heard Peter under him crying again and sighed loudly, boy’s demons were kicking his ass it seemed. No real shame in needing help he supposed.

He sank on the floor, reaching his hand under and brushing the boy’s hair feeling him relax to the touch. Peter still whimpered quietly and tried to pull from the touch but Yondu just kept gently petting him, it worked well enough with the past kids Ego had him ferry. He remembered the boy’s love of music and began humming a song he had heard a dozen times before that box finally died. He had been relieved since it was annoying but feeling the boy instantly relax at the humming, he realized he would have to fix the damn thing as soon as possible if he wanted a single night’s rest without listening to the boy cry.

He heard a low cough from behind him and instantly became silent once more, moving away from the now sound asleep child.

“Fungus was makin’ a fuss,” he grunted yanking the coffee from the amused cabin boy’s hands, “Just makin’ it quiet down again.”

“Of course, cap’n,” he said smiling and Yondu turned from him with a grunt sinking back into the cot.

“I need to get back to the brig for a few hours,” he said firmly pulling his boots back on, “Make sure those idiots aren’t destroying the place. Keep an eye on the fungus till I get back.”

“Stay put and that’s an order Kraglin,” he said firmly glancing back to see the boys firm nod telling him he was going to get the job done before leaving the two kids behind.

Maybe it would be good for Peter to be around someone closer to his own age and for Kraglin to have some time off from dealing with men twice his age treating him like he was their personal servant.

---

Peter’s breathing came out thick. Fingers tightening around his Walkman, pressing down hard on the play button and began gasping out sobs when he realized it wasn’t working. The batteries were dead and he had no more he tried to reason to his panic but he let out a wounded howl.

He didn’t know how else to make the thoughts go away. Without music to drown it out, he didn’t know what to do.

He let out a shaking hum and closed his eyes trying to remember the beat to Oh Child. He’d listened to it a million times, he knew it by heart and this may be the only way he would ever be able to hear his favorite song again. Tears began to drop at last at that solemn thought, he lost his mother and her music within hours of each other and was once more in a situation no child should be in.

He couldn’t remember the words right away so he just kept humming the melody until the dark cloud over his thoughts began to subside.

“Oh child, things are gonna get easier…” he whispered slowly tightening his eyes trying to remember the song, concentrating only on that and not the bed that began to shift or the eyes he could feel watching him.

“Oooh child…someday, someday, we’ll walk in the rays of a beautiful sun…”

He couldn’t remember if he was getting the lyrics right, but he just went back to humming the melody he could never forget and imagined mom singing it to him. Her arms cold, the fingers resting on his cheek clammy, tears damping his hair and the choked sobs muddling the words. As sad as that image was, it made Peter feel less alone then he was now, curled into himself clinging to his Walkman and humming a song he couldn’t completely remember the lyrics to with one of the creatures who kidnapped him watching. He didn’t remember where his back pack went, he thinks its out there out of his safe spot of under the bed near the person watching him. He lets out another choked sob, why couldn’t they just leave him alone?!

“Hey, little man…”

Peter bites his lip hard and curls tighter into himself, that wasn’t the captain, he didn’t know who that was and didn’t really want to find out, the captain himself was annoying enough.

“Ya are safe, alright, buddy?” he sounded young like a teenager and that made Peter’s shoulders tense less, he was just a kid like Peter, that wasn’t as threatening.

“Yer on a ship full of criminals sure but we don’t hurt kids.”

“Ya can come out if ya want, it’s really cramped down there and between you and me, I think the captain may be lying sayin’ ya is fungus…”

All the negative things Peter had been thinking about were put on pause as he thought of how ridiculous it was for anyone to consider him to be a fungus. Before he could stop himself, he was letting his thoughts slip past his lips.

“What do you even want with me? Are ya gonna do weird tests on me because you’re too dumb to know what a human boy is?!”

Peter tensed feeling the hand on his shoulder and began to shiver feeling the stranger crawl in next to him, gently running his fingers through his hair just like mom once had.

“I’m not very smart,” he admitted, “But I don’t need to be to know the captain would gut me if I even looked at you wrong.”

“Don’t touch me!” Peter spat moving closer to the wall clinging to his Walkman tighter, his most prized possession. It might be dead but it was the only source of momma he had left and it gave him comfort.

The man, boy, Peter realized turning his head slightly to look back to make sure he was moving away, pulled his hand away and backed up but didn’t leave him alone. Just stayed there staring at him, in concern. Peter softened a little getting a better look at him, his face was hairless and squishy, he wasn’t much older than Peter. He looked like one of the neighborhood teens who used to offer to walk him home and were always nice to him, offering him sweets and kind words while momma was in the hospital.

Minutes crept by and no words were spoken, but the other boy seemed to be trying to make him feel better or at least stop crying by humming the song he had been humming earlier.

“How ya feelin’ now little guy?”

“Like I have to pee,” Peter admitted but made no attempt to move from where he was at.

“Well there is a toilet right—“

“I’m not going with you in here with me.”

The teen made an annoyed grunt at that and after several minutes started up a speech Peter was sure he had to prepare during the long silence.

“Listen real good little man, I get it, ya don’t want people near ya vulnerable like that but I have direct orders from the captain that I am not going to leave this area until he comes back from his business.”

“Then I’m not coming out,” Peter stated matter of factly crossing his arms tight and curling into a tighter ball.

“Then don’t, hold it all ya want little man.”

Peter stood his ground once more not intimidated by another child and felt a little braver being near someone with no power like him.

“Are you another kidnapped kid?”

There was a pause before the boy answered with an amused chuckle.

“Nope,” he stated quite proudly, “I’m a member of the crew. Not quite a full-fledged yet but I will be soon.”

“Soo you’re like their servant then?”

“A cabin boy ain’t a servant!” he growled offended by the accusation.

“Whatever you say, dude,” Peter said ending the argument before it started another wave of exhaustion settling over him.

The cabin boy seemed to be waiting for another reply, maybe a change of conversation but he seemed to know it wasn’t coming as Peter just lay there staring at the wall, sadly running his fingers over his dead Walkman.

“I’ll tell ya what, I’ll face the wall, cover my ears and close me eyes while ya pee.”

“You’ll still be there…” Peter whispered uncomfortably not liking the idea of someone he didn’t know being in the same room as him as he went to the bathroom.

“But I won’t be lookin, ya have my word little man, I won’t peak and if I break my promise it means certain death.”

Peter became uncomfortable once more at the promise but was intrigued, this wasn’t a grown man, he was a kid like Peter. It wasn’t any different than going at school.

“Ok.”

The words were faint and filled with shame but somehow the cabin boy caught them and moved so Peter could come out. Peter hesitated as he crawled to the opening but the cabin boy didn’t try anything with him, he backed up and when Peter still hesitated, he went back more.

He was far from threatening. Tall and lean, dorky hair cut he must have thought made him look tough and his nervous smile showed he was missing some front teeth. Peter was half his size but felt he had a good chance at taking him if he tried anything with him. He wasn’t gonna trust him or anything, he’d keep his guard up but he didn’t need to hide from this one. He wouldn’t hurt him. Not right now anyway. Maybe later, maybe not. Who knows. Peter sure didn’t and knew he couldn’t stop it even if he did, so might as well be smarter about the fights he started.

“Don’t look,” Peter said firmly poking his head out from under the bed for the first time in days.

The cabin boy put his hands out and backed up before slowly turning around to face the cell door. Peter didn’t move yet.

“Cover your ears and close your eyes,” he demanded beginning to crawl out of his safe space.

“I ain’t gonna back on my word, little man,” Peter smiled practically hearing the eye role watching him put his hands over his ears and beginning to hum loudly for extra effect.

Peter slowly crawled from underneath the bed and grabbed the edge, he felt dizzy as he tried to pull himself up. He fell once, then once more, his muscles not used to moving. He saw the cabin boy glance over with concern, silently asking him if he needed help but Peter shook his head stubbornly and didn’t try to move until the teen faced away from him again. He smiled at the loud groan of annoyance before he went back to humming loudly.

He rested for a minute sitting on the edge of his bed, feeling his limbs gain some life before getting up on wobbly legs and completing his business. The bad part about accepting water meant he had to go to the bathroom he thought glumly.

At the sound of his zipper going back up the cabin boy lowered his hands and turned back towards him with a smile.

“Come sit on yer bed instead of under,” cabin boy almost begged looking at him with concerned eyes, “I won’t sit by ya if ya don’t want me to.”

Peter nodded, every part of him aching from being cramped under there so long and maybe he would get a little more privacy if he just complied with they wanted. A little at least, he didn’t plan on giving them their way too often.

“Do ya want ta try to eat?”

Peter didn’t respond just sitting on the bed and pulling his back pack next to him.

“The captain ate a little off it, ok a lot off it but he seems convinced ya are fungus and don’t need much to keep going.”

“I’m not hungry,” he grumbled slipping his Walkman from his pocket and into his backpack and pulling it closer to him.

“Water at least? Even fungus needs that…”

Peter hesitantly nodded and held his hand out for the glass cabin boy was offering. He took slow drinks and found himself asking for more when he finished the glass, he felt so dry and just wanted the water, nothing else right now.

“I’m not ‘fungus’,” he grumbled after a few minutes and cabin boy just laughed at that.

“Then what are ya then?”

“My name is Star Lord.”

It was a stupid thing to say and it was treated as such, the cabin boy had to hold his breath to keep out the laugh. Cut Peter some slack though, he was eight and didn’t exactly want to give his kidnappers his real name. His mother’s nickname was the best he could do and he always thought it was badass but the space pirate wannabe in the room begged to differ.

Peter turned a bright red in embarrassment and snarled out who he was to laugh at his name, his name was probably just as stupid. He wasn’t even some badass captain like Captain Jerk Ass was, so whatever his name or nickname or whatever was it couldn’t be much better than his own.

“Kraglin Obfonteri,” he said with a shrug and smile, “Not as cool as ‘Star Lord’ but ya know, I get by.”

“With a name like that, ya should ask to be a ravenger,” he said smug look settling on his face as he settled on the floor next to Peter’s bed, “Yer wanted poster will at least look cool.”

“Is that what you guys are?”

“Terra really is a primitive planet to not know who the legendary ravengers are,” Kraglin scoffed sinking cross legged on the floor in front of Peter’s cot, blocking his path way to the place he had been hiding.

“Let me teach ya some, little man.”

“Ta start, we are the best of the best. A group of highly trained, specialized bad asses who can do and steal whatever we want without ever being caught.”

“If this group is so awesome, how’d ya get in it?”

Kraglin scowled at the boy and Peter couldn’t help the flinch but to his surprise Kraglin didn’t even raise his hand to him, he just shook his head at him like mama had done when she was annoyed with him.

“I am in training, ya brat,” he said puffing his chest out and shooting a proud smile Peter’s way that he found himself returning, “And for your information, I was handpicked by the captain himself because I showed such promise.”

“If ya say so…”

“I do but I ain’t gonna brag about that yet, not until ya know what a ravenger even is so you can fully appreciate how amazing it is I was picked to be one.”

And he did alright. Kraglin went on and on about this group of space pirates that followed a special code but what caught Peter’s attention was a single word.

“Being a ravager is freedom?”

“The very definition of the word. Ya do what ya want, go where ya want, steal what ya want and no one is around to stop you.”

Peter was full attention after that. Letting every word, every battle and every historic tidbit Kraglin rambled on about sink into his mind.

Peter sank on the floor next to Kraglin as he continued to prattle on about how amazing ravagers, particularly his crew was. Yondu or Captain Jerk Ass as Peter had been calling him and probably would continue for the time being was quite the bad ass by the sound of it.

To be a ravager, you had to impress the captain. Peter wanted far away from the people who had hurt him and he wanted to be strong like them and most of all he wanted the freedom Kraglin described. He didn’t know how but he was going to be a ravager, whatever they had planned on doing with him be damned, it wasn’t happening now.

Peter rested his head on Kraglin’s lap as another wave of exhaustion passed through him during his epic tale of how the captain had single handed killed an entire army just to get some kind of jewel, complete with loud sound effects from the cabin boy.

Peter felt comfortable against his quaking knees as he began flailing his fist trying to recreate a fight for him.

Peter smiled up at him and scooted closer. He didn’t have to let his guard down or trust someone to like them he reasoned to the suspicious part of him.

#Peter Quill #yondu udonta #kraglin obfonteri #ravagers #Guardians of the Galaxy #Dan's fics #Kindred Souls

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erinchu · 7 years

Note

For the mini fic thing I'd like to suggest Rhack with no. 12. I love the whole character confesses deep dark secret or finally admits their feelings when they think the other person is asleep, but they actually heard the whole thing.

@historiii also asked for number 12 with Rhack so here you both go! (:

Enjoy~

After countless ‘close calls’ and endangering Rhys�� life down on Pandora, why did Jack continue to bring him along on his away trips? Sure, the kid had proven himself over and over again to be, like, the only competent programmer Jack had to date, but the CEO knew the real reason. He was being selfish because he actually enjoyed Rhys’ company. He had grown very fond of him over the past year, but of course he never bothered to take the time to tell him that. Who has time for that crap when you’re running a freaking space station?!

This time was different though and Jack didn’t know that he would be able to forgive himself for this one. Helios had received a distress signal from one of the R&D facilities down on Pandora. The message claimed bandits had somehow hacked their systems and taken control of it, eventually infecting it with a virus. Naturally, Handsome Jack knew he’d be needing his favorite little programmer to fix it. In reality, he could have easily done it himself, but he enjoyed watching Rhys work. As they learned when they reached the site, the message was a fake. A trap to hopefully lure Handsome Jack down and give the bandits a shot at, well, shooting him in the god damn face.

It was utter chaos for only about ten minutes, but to Rhys and Jack it felt like hours. Bullets were flying in every direction and Jack’s men were dropping like flies. Idiots. He really needed to hire some guys who knew to move out of the way when someone points a gun right at them. He was making a mental note of it when someone dropped down next to him with a pained cry. Great, another moron down. Except it wasn’t this time, it was-

“Oh my god, Rhys!?” Jack cried out as he collected the younger man up into his arms. He held him close as his eyes scanned over his body trying to find where he had been hit. He felt his blood turn cold in his veins as he saw a clear hole on the right side of Rhys’ torso. Shit. This was not good. Jack could clearly see he was bleeding out and at an alarming rate. He didn’t have time to try and put pressure on the wound because it wasn’t long before they were surrounded.

Unlucky for the bandits, Handsome Jack was no damsel in distress and he did not wait around for someone else to save him. He managed to drop all eight of the remaining bandits before calling over the coms for an immediate evacuation. The voice on the other end sounded panicked as he gave Jack an ETA of twenty minutes.

“If that god damn shuttle isn’t here in less than ten minutes, the last thing you’re ever gonna see is my cold eyes staring back at you as I strangle you to death, do you understand?” Jack tossed the radio aside and very gently gathered Rhys back up into his arms. He placed Rhys’ head in his lap and carefully applied pressure to his still bleeding wound. When Rhys cried out, no doubtably from pain, Jack let out a sigh of relief. Good, he was still with him.

“Hey, hey there, Rhysie. Stay with me, kiddo. Help is coming. I’m right here…”

Jack held him the entire ride back to Helios and was in every room of the hospital that they took him. When it came time for the doctors to operate on Rhys, that’s when they finally had to kick him out. Who the hell kicks out Handsome Jack? He wanted to fight them on it but Jack knew that meant he was waisting their time when they could be saving Rhys, so he finally agreed and sulked off to the waiting room.

Jack had lost count of how many hours Rhys was in surgery. At some point during the night, one of the doctors came out to tell him that Rhys was finally in stable condition but they needed to keep a close eye on him. He explained that the bullet had gone straight through him, just barely nicking one of his major arteries. They had managed to finally stop the bleeding and get him patched up but he would be out for a while. Thank god for all the advances Hyperion’s medical department had made or Rhys might be dead. Jack made another mental note to give that department more funding and to stop making fun of them.

“Can I see him?” Jack asked almost eagerly, taking a step towards the doctor. Jack could tell the man wanted to say no, that Rhys’ condition was still too delicate but who the fuck says no to Handsome Jack? The man merely nodded and stepped out of Jack’s way. Truth be told, Jack would have gone in there regardless of what the answer was.

Very quietly, Jack pushed into the room where they had taken Rhys. He spotted a nurse at his bedside who was checking vitals and pressed his lips into a hard line, nodding his head towards the door. The woman closed her clipboard pad quickly and scurried out of the room without a word. Jack waited a moment after she had gone before moving to Rhys’ side.

The younger man looked so pale and fragile, like if Jack touched him, he would disintegrate. He quietly moved one of the chairs in the room next to the bed and sat down. He watched Rhys sleep for a long time, his heterochromatic eyes sliding over to the monitors from time to time to check his vitals. Why the hell wasn’t he awake yet?

So many doctors had come and gone from the room, Jack couldn’t tell their faces apart anymore. He was growing more frustrated by the minute. There were a group of them discussing Rhys in the corner of the room, not a single one of them actually saying anything helpful. Jack had had enough. He stood from his chair so quickly, it went sliding back and hit against the bedside table.

“How about instead of standing around here with your heads up each other asses, you go figure out a god damn way to wake him up!? What good are you people?” Jack barked over at them all. They stood their with wide eyes, completely frozen with fear. That only fueled Jack’s rage. He picked up the chair he had been sitting in and tossed it at them, just narrowly missing them as they rushed out of the room. “Get to work, assholes!”

Another day had passed and still no change. Jack was a mess. He hadn’t left the room since he came in and he barely let anyone in. Just the occasional nurse here and there but never the doctors. They didn’t have the answers Jack wanted and they were no help anyway.

Why the hell was this affecting him so much? Sure, he really had come to care for this kid but even Jack didn’t recognize himself. Then it seemed to finally hit him. He was kneeling down next to Rhys’ bed, his hands both clasped tightly around Rhys’ flesh hand and he just began to talk.

“You know, I’m really starting to miss that annoying, whining voice of yours kiddo. It’d be really great if you could wake up now so things could go back to the way they were before. I need you…you’re the only one in that whole place who knows what they’re doing.” Jack laughed weakly and lifted his eyes for a moment to stare at the unconscious man. He really was so beautiful- that thick, chestnut hair, a great ass and oh, those legs. The kid had legs for days, but his laugh was what Jack loved the most about him. Shit. He had been too busy to realize what was happening with his own god damn feelings. He had fallen for the kid at some point and didn’t even notice till now.

Jack swallowed quietly and stood to his feet, his eyes staying on Rhys the whole time. He held on tightly to his hand and his breathing hitched the more time passed. Still nothing. Jack let his head drop back and he stared at the ceiling, a weak laugh escaping him.

“Oh, Rhysie. I lied. I don’t want things to go back to the way they were before. I don’t want to keep coming up with lame coding errors just so I can call you to come fix them. I don’t want to turn down your offers to grab dinner after a late night because I’m so caught up in meaningless work.” Jack paused for a moment and looked back down at Rhys. Still nothing. The older man bit his lip as he felt his eyes begin to well and he dropped back down to his knees, his forehead resting against the bed.

“You know, after my Angel died…I didn’t think it would be possible for me to love again. I just didn’t have time for that in my world anymore, or I was scared. I don’t know. I don’t even know why I’m telling you this…I guess what I’m trying to say is, I need you to wake up Rhys…because I love you. I realize that now. I could lose you and that would fucking kill kid, let me tell you.” Jack let out a deep sigh and tightly squeezed Rhys’ hand once again.

“So just wake up, sleeping beauty, so we both can stop pretending like there isn’t something there between us and start a fucking life together. Please Rhys…I love you,” Jack pleaded quietly and began gently hitting his head against the bed. He knew his pleas would go unheard but still, he had to say it. The room was quiet except for the annoying beeping sound of Rhys’ heart rate machine. The dumb thing must have had a wire loose or something because the noise was getting increasingly louder…

Jack’s head shot up as he felt a grip on his hand and just like that, he was on his feet, hovering over Rhys. He let out a loud gasp as he saw Rhys’ lips curve into a faint smile. It took a few moments, but finally Rhys’ own beautiful two-toned eyes opened and he was looking up at Jack.

“N-not really how I was…expecting you to tell me…but I’m glad you f-finally did,” Rhys said weakly and tried to sit up, his grip on Jack’s hand tightening. Jack sniffled a bit and scrambled to help him, his eyes widening as he realized Rhys had heard all of that. He laughed and pressed his forehead gently to Rhys’, giving him a playfully stern look.

“I thought you were suppose to be in a mini coma, kiddo. What a convenient time to recover,” Jack teased a bit and they shared a laugh.

Rhys just smiled and shook his head as he looked Jack over. He could see the older man’s eyes were a bit red. He really meant what he had said…Rhys weakly reached up and cupped Jack’s face with his flesh hand, his thumb running over the surface of the mask. Jack tensed a bit but flashed Rhys a small smile, his eyes looking over the younger man.

“It’s not every day Handsome Jack confesses his love for you. It seemed rude not to respond.” Rhys chuckled but Jack sorta froze. Even with the mask on, Rhys could see the lovely shade of red his face was turning. Jack shook his head a few times and let out a small laugh.

“You gave me a real scare there, you know that?”

“Oh yeah? Why is that? Afraid you wouldn’t be able to find anyone who can program as well as me?” Rhys grinned softly, coughing a bit as he spoke. Jack’s face turned a bit serious and he sat down on the bed next to Rhys, looking him dead in the eye.

“No, because I love you, idiot. Oh, christ, I love you. It’s ridiculous.”

A satisfied grin pulled across Handsome Jack’s lips as he saw the utterly shocked look on the younger man’s face. Safe to say his face was no longer pale. Jack’s eyes slid over as he heard the heart rate machine beeping faster once again and Rhys quietly cursed at it. After a moment, the young programmer finally met eyes with the man in front of him. He took his hand in his flesh one and gave it a squeeze, a warm smile on his face.

“I love you too, Jack.”

#rhack #rhys the company man #handsome jack #one shot #rhack one shot

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