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writersrealmbts · 3 years

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Diamond Tears and Little Wings: Part 5

Description: You’re a fairy, taken in by BTS. You need lots of love and care, otherwise your light will fade and you turn to stone. Between the seven of them, you should never feel unloved. Right?

Warnings: N/A

Posted: 02/11/2021

Tags: bts x reader, ot7

Angst/Fluff/Angst: 3,846 words

A/N: Okay, I told you guys that I would be alternating between DTLW and Clearwater Springs, so here’s the proof. Anyway, two more parts after this!

Your fourth home in five years is what they told you this was. But you couldn’t remember any but this one.

So your heart was aching, and you always wanted to cry, but you never dared to do so. Something, someone’s, words, telling you that crying in front of strangers was dangerous kept echoing in your head. So you blinked away any tears that came, hugged your stuffed animal, and studied the area you would lived in.

It was a little cold, so you hugged your coat tighter to you. You’d been told by the other fairies that your coat was special, because it appeared to be designed exactly for your wings, which was rare. But none of them seemed to have any idea why you would have such a special coat, excepting the fact that maybe in the country you came from it was more normalized to have custom wing-slits.

It was completely normal to come away from a home with a stuffed animal, and clothing and jewelry that could shrink down. People liked dressing up fairies.

You played with your bracelet as you examined the cement floor, and the plain white walls, and the windows that weren’t quiet fully insulated but were full east and full west, respectively, and provided quite a bit of natural lighting. You had your own bathroom and kitchen area, and the laundry room was in the basement. The bed was a bit creaky, but the mattress seemed decent. You had a cute lamp on the side table, and they had a few books for you on a bookshelf that had the bottom shelf broken beside the side table.

There was shoebox bedroom on one of the shelves as well, very simple, with just a bed in it, but it was decorated carefully—though perhaps by their daughter. There was felt covering the floor and back wall, which would provide a little insulation for you. The outside was colored on, but you didn’t have a problem with that.

There was an old rug rolled off to one side that they said you could use, and a bar with some hangers already hanging on it and plastic drawers they said you could used for your clothing.

You looked at your suitcase, which was resting on the bed, then set your dog on top of it while you got the rug, unrolling it and placing it near your bed.

Your job there was to do their laundry and take care of the cat that their daughter wouldn’t let them get rid of, and to entertain their daughter now and then, and when you weren’t delivering the clean laundry or entertaining their daughter you were to stay in the basement bedroom. Simple enough.

The cat was a sweetheart and the laundry was quite simple with only three people to wash for. Laundry was tossed down the shoot daily and every Monday and Thursday you were to deliver their clean laundry before they awoke.

They weren’t cruel, or strict, just very structured and busy.

She was very kind and brought you groceries, even getting you exactly what you requested. You just had to leave a list with her laundry on Mondays, because Mondays were grocery days. She even spontaneously bought you a cake, and when you told her that the basement was a little cold for you, she found a nice heater for you that greatly improved things, and found some more blankets around the house for you. They were generally gone over the weekends, visiting a different set of grandparents each weekend, which left you and Cupcake, the cat, alone in the house to do as you pleased.

Those were the days you ventured down to the fairy market, which was a safe space for fairies and since you did get an allowance for doing the laundry, you could sometimes buy some special treats or things that you needed.

You weren’t a fan of the husband, which was fine, because he only seemed to come downstairs if he needed to check the water-heater (they were having issues with it and he was too stubborn to call whoever it was that professionally dealt with those things), or to ask you to do an emergency clean on a shirt or tie or slacks. It wasn’t that he was mean, or sleazy, or that he gave you bad vibes, he was just very grumpy and brisk. Cold.

And he hated the cat.

Plus you had the distinct feeling that if he found out about your diamond tears it would be a very bad thing. He was a greedy man, raising a greedy daughter.

But you had a CD player now, and you could find CD’s now and then at the fairy market, and the wife said you could use any CD’s you found in the basement.

Which was how you found your current favorite CD. You weren’t certain who the artists were because the disc hadn’t been in it’s proper case, but their songs were so nice. And you loved the one song.

So some days, when you had nothing to do but give the cat all the love it wanted, you just listened to that CD on repeat, singing words as though you’d known them before.

You did different crafts, and solved some of the abandoned puzzles from the storage room.

You improved your shoe-box, replacing the bed (it was a sponge, hard and weird to lay on) with a carefully arranged nest of fabrics and stuffing. Sometimes you stuck your stuffed dog into the shoebox and snuggled into that. The smells on it so familiar and foreign that it made you cry.

Which meant you had to find a place to hide your tears. Normally you just saved them and exchanged them at the fairy market—where the currency exchange fairy, Heidrun, just discretely nodded and added their value to your shopping card balance.

But one day she stopped you before you could leave, holding your hands. “You don’t look well, dear.”

“Fourth home,” You told her simply, shrugging. “It’s more of a job than a home. But I’m not…I’m not suffering. She always makes sure I have what I need and allows me a lot of freedom. I have the whole basement to myself, and I’m allowed in the side-yard at all times. She even encourages me to come here. And I have music to listen to. Actually, I found a CD I really like, but I don’t know what band they are because it doesn’t say on the disc.”

“Try Magnus, he knows everything going on in the music scene,” She told you, squeezing your hands. “And trying to hold onto whatever love you’ve got and are getting. It’s not healthy for our kind to go unloved.”

You nodded. “I’ll do that.”

Magnus did help you, granted, you had to sing a couple of the songs for him to find the right group, but once he did, he sent to you over to Frida with a request for BTS albums.

Frida nodded, pulling out several book-like things. “They’re super popular, but they’re also in a ton a magazines right now. They lost their fairy because of some scandal, and now they’re in a slump, but they’re also going on a world tour, so it can’t be that much of a slump. They’re actually coming to our stadium for a concert, which is cool. They’ve started putting up the posters already.”

You looked at the books, confused. “I thought you said they were albums?”

“They are. The CD’s are accompanied by a booklet of photos and the lyrics, photocards, and usually a poster.”

You blinked then picked up the biggest one, concerned and confused. “It’s…huge…and a box?”

She just snorted. “You want that one? It’s one of their more recent ones. Don’t have their newest yet, but I can see if I can get one for you.”

You nodded. “That’d be nice, but sure, I’ll…take this one for now.”

She nodded and swiped your card. “All yours, sweet-cheeks. Now, tell me how you get your hair that shiny.”

You grabbed your hair and shrugged. “I don’t know. I just wash it.”

“Not even fair,” She muttered, then turned to a new customer.

You went home after hitting a few more stalls, getting more craft things and some stuff for the kitty, hugging the album and wondering what awaited you inside.

Cupcake was waiting for you on your bed, sitting up and meowing loudly, stretching out a paw for you to take (which you did because why else teach him that trick) and then purring and arching into your hand.

“I know, I was gone for forever,” You scooped him up after successfully setting everything else down. “I bought some new music for us. You need a better name. A masculine name. You don’t respond to Cupcake anyway—not that I blame you. It’s a rather poor choice of a name for a cat, much less a tom.”

He just purred, climbing up onto your shoulders and riding there while you put away the few food items you had purchased and hopping onto the fridge while you started cooking your dinner.

You hummed as you tried to think of a different name for him, but after a moment you paused, wondering what song it was you were humming and why it was so familiar and yet so distant. So easy, but you couldn’t remember. You couldn’t remember the moment you stopped singing what the words were or how the song went, despite having reached the chorus. You could only remember the last words you sang.

You shook your head and went over, quickly opening the box to where the disc was in the album without seeing any sign of the pictures (Maybe a poster?) and then popping it into the player.

But it was worse than the first one, because you swore you knew each song. You had vague images in your head of people performing the songs. It hurt. It hurt to hear these songs because they were too familiar. Too familiar and yet so completely foreign that it was unfair.

The first one wasn’t too bad, but the second started really getting to you.

By the third song you were in tears.

By the chorus of the fourth song you were full-on sobbing on the bed.

The fifth song clashed so much with the sentiments of the previous two that it just broke you down further, and you had to turn it off before you started screaming at the empty space where the music should have come from.

You grabbed the photos from the album box after you had calmed down enough. Not bothering to try and remove the sticker, you slide the photos out and started flipping through the pages, horrified at the fact that they looked so achingly familiar and yet you had no idea who they were.

You tossed them back in the box and slammed it shut, eyes filled with tears.

But you must not have woken when someone came into the basement, because three days later the man was demanding to know where you got so many diamonds.

And fairies can’t lie.

Five days later you were staring out the window, a place you couldn’t go until you filled the box on your small counter space with diamonds. It wasn’t too large, but it was large enough that you were worried about whether you would ever fill it.

So you turned on the disc again, and cried. Cried until you were sick, and then collapsed into your bed. Exhaustedly petting the cat until you fell asleep, only to repeat it the next day. And the next.

When you finally filled it, you went straight to the market just to get some time away from the basement.

The shopkeepers from your regular stops came rushing up when they saw you, even Heidrun, all asking where you’d been and if you were okay and before you knew it you were sitting at one of the picnic tables with some soup and some tea and a bunch of worried fairies fussing over you.

Frida sat silently across from you, looking concerned but ultimately staring at the table.

Or so you thought, because she suddenly reached across the table and grabbed your bracelet. “Where did you get this?”

You blinked and tried to recoil, but couldn’t. “I don’t remember. I just figured it was from one of my previous homes.

Magnus frowned, looking at it. “It looks a lot like the one that…”

She nodded. “There’s something etched onto them. Fairy craftsmanship. Come over to my shop. Come on.”

You followed her, curious, and not wanting to let something you had a very strong attachment to out of your sight.

First she tried a jeweler’s eye loupe, then she wrinkled her nose and grabbed a flashlight, shining it through the gems and onto the table.

You stared down at it, confused.

“Something tells me your family didn’t give you up willingly,” Magnus said, voice a little tense.

Frida looked at you, as though she couldn’t believe it. “You’re the fairy that was taken away from BTS?”

You just looked back at her. “Um…is that what all of that means?”

“How did you like that album you bought?” She asked, eyes narrowed to slits.

You shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to think about how much you had used it to make yourself cry, because if you did then you knew she was right. And if she was right, then it would be even sadder.

“Weren’t the one that said that they couldn’t have been too sad about losing their fairy to be going on a world tour? Why would I want to be her?”

“No, they talked about it…it’s because they’re trying to find her. Find you. They didn’t say it explicitly because they could get in trouble for that, but they’ve hinted at it and there are tons of reports and pictures of them visiting every fairy sanctuary they could without compromising their performances. It just took a while for it to hit the news for us. Y/n, they’re looking for you. And if this is any proof, I think they love you and you need love. You look like a skeleton with skin.”

Heidrun gently pulled you into her arms. “What changed? You were doing alright and then you were gone and you come back looking like a ghost.”

“They found my tears,” You whispered.

She inhaled sharply, not quite a gasp, and held you tighter. “You can’t stay there.”

“I can’t leave there either. Where would I go? I would just get arrested and brought back to them.”

Frida folded her arms. “Leave it to me. You go back, lay low. Maybe try to appeal to the lady of the house. I’ll have you out of there as soon as I can. In the meantime….”

“I’ve still got a backlog of your diamonds, come get them just in case he asks again.” Your arm was gently pulled toward the currency exchange station.

You took the bag, and the treats most of them packed up for you. If the love of other fairies was enough to sustain you, you never would have been in this mess. But fairies, while kind and caring, didn’t have enough love for other fairies to keep them alive, especially once exposed to the love of a family. Fairies were good, and kind, and helpful, but also emotionally unstable which made it hard to focus enough love into one another without a consistent source of outside love.

It was a miracle your species had survived as long as it had.

Cupcake greeted you, meowing pathetically and hopping into your arms.

You sat down on your bed with him. “Let’s think of a new name for you.”

Eventually you settled on Keyowo, which was close to his current name but meant friend and was just…it was better.

You then set to deep cleaning over the next week, shrinking your things and tucking them into your suitcase to keep them out of sight.

On Tuesday he beat you to tears because you weren’t producing tears fast enough.

The album caught your eye again on the next Friday.

You picked up, tracing the seven on the cover, and then opening it. You pulled out the poster and unfolded it.

They were in white, with feathers floating down and a hole in the floor. They all looked so good.

You touched the one on the far left, wearing the sweater. Slightly cat-like facial features. You felt like you knew what his hands looked like, even though you couldn’t see much of them in the picture. Slightly calloused, bony, but gentle and careful. Caring for everyone.

“Yoongi,” You whispered, choking up. Tearing up.

Your fingers traced over each of them, names a whisper in your mind. A whisper that turned into shouts, memories flooding your mind of each and every one of them. Your mind screaming for them because your throat was too tight to even whisper.

They were your boys.

They had to let you go.

You weren’t supposed to remember them.

They weren’t supposed to try and find you.

The next day you shoved everything into your bag, tucked the cat into your coat, left a note for the missus and headed straight back to the fairy market.

Frida looked surprised when she saw you. “Whoa, what happened? Is this the kitty your were telling me about?”

“They’re gone for the weekend, that means even if I stay nearby they’ll think I’ve had two days to run out on them. I need you to help me get me back to my family.” You teared up. “I need to find them.”

Frida nodded, glancing around and closing her shop. “Come on. You can stay with me.”

Frida’s family consisted of a pair of siblings.

The sister, Alena, was a fairy rights activist in her spare time, which is why Frida had so much freedom, and a huge music fan. She had a whole wall of CD’s and albums and posters. Stacks of magazines featuring musicians.

The brother, Agnar, was quiet, “just an accountant”, and very kind. And very affectionate toward Frida.

Frida was equally affectionate toward him, bringing a fake gag from Alena.

They helped you find an outfit that hid your fairy-ness, and he got you tickets to the concert, all of you hoping that it would get you close enough for them to see you and recognize that you were there. Also, it would help you health-wise to see them in person and the rush from the concert would be overwhelming, but also might revitalize you.

Then Alena forced you to sit in the bathroom with her while she applied a cloth to your face with epsom salts to try and reduce the bruising and swelling on your face. She told you about the fairy abuse responders, and how she would call them in the morning and tell them about your family.

Agnar totally stole your cat.

Frida let you sleep in her fairy-home (because it definitely wasn’t a dollhouse and it was awesome, of course).

Four days later, you were at the concert venue with Alena, taking a seat and soaking in the atmosphere. People were talking all around and some people were chanting the boys’ names. Another group was starting to sing the songs.

You listened nervously, wondering whether it was true or not that they were looking for you. What if they were just making a fuss to get back at the company a bit? What if the media was making things up? It wouldn’t be the first time a story was fabricated for magazines.

Then the concert started and you and Alena were cheering for your boys, but you wondered why you ever thought they’d be able to see you in this mess.

It wasn’t until the second half of the concert that you had hope.

The boys were in more casual outfits, having more fun.

And they were all wearing the jewelry that Namjoon had made from your diamonds.

Jimin was the one who saw you first, though he looked right over you and then seemed to try and pinpoint you again, but was unable to in the crowd. He stood there with a smile plastered on his face, acting as though he was studying each Army’s face when you knew he was searching for you.

So you stood still in the writhing mass that of the crowd, and studied him.

He had lost weight, and if it hadn’t been for the makeup, you bet he’d look fairly wrung-out.

All of them looked like they’d been sick enough to lose weight.

Taehyung came over and practically dragged him away (making it look playful).

But Jimin said something to Jin and Jungkook.

Jungkook was over there as casually as he could, totally looking at the camera and doing ‘fanservice’. But he obviously didn’t spot you.

Jin didn’t either.

But Yoongi did during the very last song and he stopped, staring, then he was crouched, hand over his mouth, just staring in your direction.

You waved, wondering if he actually was staring at you.

He smiled, but it also looked like he wanted to cry. He waved as well, then cautiously moved off, still keeping an eye on you.

You bit your lip, smiling.

Alena squealed and grabbed onto you, and the two of you did your best to fit in with the rest of the crowd.

Both of you lingered as long as you could afterward, her extremely hyped from the whole concert and talking a mile a minute, while you were feeling…exhausted? All of the emotions around you and finally seeing your boys again….

But you had no idea how you were going to get to them, or how they were going to get to you.

Until you saw Sejin, scanning the crowd.

The likelihood of him being on the side of the boys was pretty good.

You tugged on Alena’s arm, pulling her to a stop.

Sejin locked onto you and started moving, coming your way, waiting until the straggling fans that had been around you were gone before telling security to let you through.

You dipped your head to the security guards, then bowed slightly to Sejin. “Hello.”

Sejin smiled. “Hello, y/n.”

You bit your lip. “I remembered.”

He nodded. “I figured. We all figured. They’re waiting. They’re all waiting.”

You were practically vibrating.

“Come on, let’s get you back to them. Your friend can come but she needs to wait in the hallway for…security purposes.”

You nodded and relayed the information to Alena, then both of you were following back to the waiting room.

Sejin stopped by the waiting room. “Go on in.”

You nodded, putting your hand on the doorknob and then turning it and going in.

–

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Masterlist - ot7 Masterpost

Tagging: @alex–awesome–22, @bryvada, @missmoxxiesworld @subzerobts @forvever-ddaeng @vividwoosan @mischiefmakerliesmith5 @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @minmeowmeowcuddles @kpopfictrash @castlewolfsbane @scatkpoptrash @knjhe @i-dont-even-know-fck @soulphoenix1618 @kerikaaria @sea-nevermind-enthusiast @reinaxans

If you would like to be tagged: DTLW Taglist (please make sure you can be tagged, I’m no longer hunting people down)

#fairy au #bts fic #bts ot7 #bts ot7 x reader #ot7 #ot7 x reader #fairy!reader #namjoon #jin #seokjin #yoongi #suga #hoseok #jhope #jimin #taehyung #v #jungkook

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aceofspadegrass · 3 years

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What's this??? Niragi and chishiya turn into cats! Now its up to nijiro and Dori to take care of them. (Pre borderland)

Pre-BorderKitties

Characters: Dori Sakurada, Nijiro Murakami, Niragi Suguru (Technically), Chishiya Shuntaro (Also technically-)

Genre: Fluff. Just a bit of soft times with kitties.

1.4k words

I did it, after so long of this thing sitting in my inbox. I hope I did it justice, even if I never mentioned how they even turned into cats in the first place! Look, I even made a custom liner for this-

The knock at the door wasn’t foreign to Sakurada. Sometimes people come by to have a chat with him, usually either close friends coming over to visit, or occasionally a delivery person bringing him his packages. He gets up, his dog Fanta napping happily as he strides over to the door, opening it and being greeted by a very familiar face.

“ Sakurada! Sorry for bothering you, but-“ Sakurada holds a hand out to stop his junior, Nijiro Murakami, from bowing too far, a small box in hand. “ No worries. What’s going on?” Sakurada asks, stepping aside to let Murakami inside. Murakami nods his head in thanks as he steps inside, taking off his shoes and putting on the house sandals that were neatly laid out for any guests, Sakurada following behind as they head to the living room together.

Murakami sets the box on the table, the kind meant for carrying fruits like oranges or melons, and there was a faint noise coming from the inside. Curious, Sakurada bends down to peek into the hole at the side, eyes widening as a little face peeks out in return.

“ Are those….?”

Murakami nods, and he pulls open the flap, Sakurada peering inside. There, nestled on a nest made of a black and white towel, were two little cats, one of them half buried in the towel while the other was wide awake, staring up at Sakurada. The cat was a smooth white colour, with a slight tinge of grey at the top of its head as well as little spots on its body. The cat hops out and pads away, Murakami sighing as they watch the cat leave.

“ I found them huddled together near the studio, and the director said I should probably get them somewhere safer, since they’re filming and people are gonna be everywhere. This one, the black coloured cat?” He points to the one still in the box, which appeared to be shaking out of fear, pulling at Sakurada’s heartstrings. “ He was absolutely terrified at anyone who approached him, I think he was hurt before….. Poor thing.” Sakurada nods, just observing the cat. Unlike its counterpart, this one was the opposite, a dark colour with patches of a lighter shades on its body, much more frequent than the white one. “ Do they have names?” Murakami chuckles. “ Actually, yeah. See, when we were discussing the shoot, our characters names came up at one point. You know, Niragi and Chishiya? And, well-“ Murakami gestures at the box again, the kitten now peering up at the two of them from a hole in the towel, dark eyes nervous yet curious. “ They respond to it like it’s their names. So I decided this one is Niragi, and the white one is Chishiya! Like our characters! I think they were both boys as well, so it fits!” “ I see…. Isn’t this Niragi a bit skittish though? So it’s more appropriate to call this one the Niragi before the main plot. Pre-Borderlands.” Sakurada points out, Murakami nodding. Niragi had buried himself back into the towel, Murakami shutting the lid shut again to give the cat some privacy. Chishiya on the other hand was gone, hidden away where Sakurada hopes he wasn’t messing the area up. He’d hate to find it later covered in unmentionables because the cat decided to use it as his personal bathroom.

Still, he wasn’t sure why Murakami even decided to bring them here of all places. They were cute, sure, but he wasn’t a cat owner and didn’t have any of the proper materials to even watch over a cat long term, let alone two. If they were puppies, he’d be a little more prepared, and maybe Fanta could even play with them. But these were cats, and with one obviously skittish and the other clearly wanting nothing to do with them, they probably wouldn’t have gotten along as he’d hope.

Still, no point in not trying. He gets up and heads to the kitchen. They had to be thirsty and hungry, right? He could get them some water and some fish easy, Sakurada opening his fridge and grabbing some leftover fish. He turns on his stove, pouring a little oil to lubricate the pan. He chops up the fish into smaller, more manageable bites for the cats, and tosses that in, letting the fish cook a little.

The smell soon begins to linger, although not terribly strong of a smell, but out of the corner of his eye he spots a small presence of white staring at him from around the counter corner. Sakurada glances over and smiles, Chishiya not moving from his position, merely licking his lips at the smell. So he was hungry. That was good. Sakurada plates the cooked fish soon enough, and pours water into a bowl for the cats. He carries both out a bit further, setting them down on the ground and walking away. Murakami smiles at him in appreciation, and he opens the box, peering inside.

“ Hey, it’s lunchtime now….. It’s okay, we’re not here to hurt you.” Murakami says, in hopes of reassuring the black cat. There was no response, Murakami frowning a little and looking up at Sakurada. Sakurada just gently takes the box and sets it on the ground near the water and fish, tilting it over so Niragi could come out eventually at his own pace. He steps away and sits across Murakami, the both watching the area.

It was a slow movement, but eventually the box shifts, and Niragi comes padding out, coming closer to the food and water. The two adults watch in anticipation as Niragi sniffs at the fish, then gingerly takes one piece. “ Yes…!” Sakurada mutters under his breath with a smiles, Murakami smiling nearby. Niragi drops the piece on the ground and slowly takes a few bites, huddled close to the ground as he ate. Chishiya was nowhere to be seen, Sakurada looking around. He swore he saw the white cat somewhere earlier….

“ Oh- Look, there he is!” Murakami points, and Sakurada looks back over, the white cat appearing from practically nowhere and approaching the water bowl, dipping its head and drinking without a single glance at either party, cat or human. Niragi practically scoots away the moment Chishiya came over, apparently even scared of the other cat despite no clear notice of the latter. The poor thing, really, if it was that skittish of everything. Sakurada hopes he’d be okay, the cat looked rather young still.

He laughs internally to himself. Maybe this Niragi would undergo the same personality change like the character would, becoming more confident and perhaps more destructive to whoever had the misfortune of keeping them.

“ You’re going to take them to a shelter later, right?” Sakurada looks to Murakami, who was also watching the cats eat and drink. Murakami turns his head towards him, mouth opening and closing as he thought.

“ I don’t know, honestly. Probably. I don’t know if I can handle them for that long, and I wasn’t really planning on adopting two cats out of the blue. They deserve better than that.” Murakami pouts a little, turning his attention back to the cats, Chishiya having already started eating while Niragi remained curled up nearby. “ But just for a few days, I want to keep an eye on them, you know? They’re just so cute, and we can post about them online so maybe they can be adopted that way?” “ You’re attached, aren’t you~” Sakurada smirks, Murakami sputtering.

“ Wh- Hey, okay maybe a little-“ Murakami gestures loosely to the cats, Chishiya now grooming himself. “ They didn’t run away immediately when I approached them, so I felt like, cool!” Sakurada laughs a little at that, smiling. “ You are pretty cool. Ahh, okay, we can take care of them for a little bit. But you’re helping me, okay? I have things to do too, and since you were the one to bring me them…” He leans over, nudging him playfully with an elbow. Murakami nods, smiling. “ Of course! It’s the least I can do!”

There was a small meow, and both men look down, Chishiya staring up at them with what Sakurada swore looked almost smug, then padding his furry little body onto Murakami’s lap, judging by how the younger man’s eyes widen as he stares at his lap. Murakami looks over to Sakurada with a loose grin, mouthing about how Chishiya had curled up oh so casually on his lap and pointing, Sakurada chuckling airily and nodding.

A second meow and the feeling of something nudging his leg catches his attention, and Sakurada looks down, Niragi ducking underneath the table instead the moment Sakurada took notice of the cat, his little tail still peeking out as Sakurada chuckles. Close enough, but he didn’t mind giving them shelter for a bit. It’d be fun, and honestly…. yeah, they were adorable.

#aib #alice in borderland #aib fanfic #alice in borderland fanfic #sakurada dori #murakami nijiro #niragi suguru #chishiya shuntaro #but they're cats #it's just very soft times I guess-#what set were they at? you decide- :3 #pre borderland niragi is so skittish and pre borderland chishiya is very aloof #pre niragi kitty is trying his best to interact but people spooky~#what wizard did they anger this time? who knows #murakami now makes a good cat rest spot #ask

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nekojitachan · 4 years

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I just read armies for the third time and every time I reread is just as fuckin amazing as the last time... Also I saw an ask once mentioning a collection about Aaron visiting Andrew in London, just wondering if you have any plans of posting again? I'm just so weak for my minyard boys. Hope you're good! Love your writing please never leave us ❤️

Ah... I went looking for the link to the story but I’ve been unable to find it yet (I know I would have used something to tag it, but that’s not working). I do have it saved, but not the link (on a side note, I found a twinyard prompt that I’ve forgotten about). So here it is again (until I either add it to Armies properly or do an Armies side stories post on AO3):

*******

Abram smiled at Ashley as he leaned gingerly against the top of one of her monitors with his chin resting on top of his folded arms. “So, I sent you the file last night, and let me tell you, it was rather difficult reining in Andrew while I corrected the few grammar mistakes – he wanted to make a couple comments on the paper.” That had surprised Abram, his husband’s interest on the topic, but Kimberly had picked an interesting book for once.

Ashley laughed as she leaned back in her chair and toyed with her long, dark brown braid. “I appreciate your efforts since I can only imagine what he’d have put in there.” She shuddered a little which made Abram smile in shared horror. “She’s doing better?”

“Yes, I imagine soon enough you’ll have to come up with something else when I ask for a favor.” Ashley smiled at that, a mixture of pride for her younger sister and delight in thinking up a new ‘price’ for Abram when he needed certain things done; he didn’t mind because Ashley was a minor miracle worker and usually asked for small, easily to do things in return such as proofing her sister’s uni papers or bringing back certain items from their travels.

“I’m sure I’m up to the challenge,” Ashley said as she tapped away on her keyboard. “As is, I’ve just sent you my part of our latest bargain. The email contains all the information you need in regards to the reservations I made for your dinners and a private appointment at Barts Pathology Museum.” She gave him a pleased smile as she once again toyed with her braid. “Anything else?”

“Don’t let the place descend into chaos while we’re away, yes?” Abram asked as he stood up and gave her a jaunty salute.

“I’ll do my best!” Ashley called out as he walked away, voice bright with laughter. Maddy and Rita (who was back in the office while she did some research before her next mission) wished him a nice ‘holiday’ as he left the office to meet up with his husband.

Andrew was standing out in the hallway with Lloyd and Kathryn Ambrose, one of the higher-ups who handled the EMEA region. Despite Lloyd’s occasional grumbling about the woman (he tended to grumble about anyone ranked above him), Abram never had a problem with Kathryn, who always treated him and Andrew with polite respect. “Hello, Abram,” she greeted him.

“Hello, Kathryn. Everything all right?”

“Yes, I was just talking to Lloyd and Andrew about how there’s a potential situation in Hungary. I know you’re about to go on holiday, but I just wanted to give you a head’s up that we may need to send the two of you there once you’re back.”

Lloyd nodded as he motioned to Andrew and then Abram. “Bit of a special request, but some people feel that you two could help out the agents already there.”

It wasn’t as if they could say ‘no’ when it was their jobs; Abram shared a look with Andrew who gave a slight nod after a moment. In a way, it might be better for them since someone else would be taking the lead on the mission and they would be providing support, would be more in the background. Though it meant that they’d have to do a bit of research before they left even though they were supposed to be on break.

“Send us all of the necessary information,” Abram said as he went to stand next to his husband.

“Though we’ll need an extra day or two to prepare,” Andrew argued as he stared down Lloyd.

“Of course. I’ll have Maddy put together the intel and send it to you by tomorrow.” Lloyd knew better than to fight with Andrew by then, especially with Kathryn right there (and when she appeared pleased by their agreement). That dealt with, they said their ‘goodbyes’ and left.

It wasn’t as if Andrew’s brother and sister-in-law would want to see them the entire time they were in London – they were visiting for a medical conference, after all, so they should have plenty of time to go over the material. If anything, the extra day or two they’d won from Lloyd would be spent by themselves to ‘recover’ from the visit.

Abram had the suspicion that they would need the days to recover, considering how Andrew was already on edge from the approaching visit, which was why he’d done everything he could to ensure that Aaron and Katelyn had an enjoyable (and busy) time once they arrived. He’d enlisted Ashley’s help on the matter, since he didn’t want the family too involved with Andrew’s brother ‘just in case’.

The Minyards were due to arrive the next day, and were staying at some hotel in central London where the conference was being held (along with a couple of ‘minders’ from the family), but had agreed to meet up with Andrew and Abram during their free time. Nicky and Erik would come to visit in a couple days for a mini-reunion, so there were dinners arranged and Abram had planned for an excursion or two for the couple to enjoy (by themselves).

Things between the brothers had improved since the wedding in South Carolina last year, had been tense phone calls at first before the two had moved on (somewhat) from the past, but Aaron and Andrew spending time together like this was a big step that Abram wasn’t certain that they were ready for just yet. Still, it was what it was, and in a few days Aaron would return to the States and soon after that Andrew would have an excuse to vent any disappointment by killing someone (more than likely).

“What idiocy are you contemplating now?” Andrew asked as he drove them home.

“Hmm, just that you’ll probably have to wait a week or so to commit therapeutic homicide, hon,” Abram confessed, and laughed when his husband heaved a weary sigh.

“Should have had the damn judge say ‘until insanity do you part’, could have gotten out of this marriage ages ago,” Andrew grumbled even as he held out his hand for Abram to entwine their fingers together.

“You like my mental instability,” Abram insisted as he smiled. “Keeps things interesting.”

Andrew did the sighing thing again but didn’t disagree.

Stuart and Davis were in the townhouse when they arrived, which drew a displeased frown from Andrew when he caught sight of Abram’s uncle standing in the kitchen with a purring King in his arms. Davis grinned while he held up his hands in a placating manner. “Just dropping off a few things and checking in on the kids.”

Abram patted his husband on the back before he went to hug his uncle, mindful of King who was handed over when they stepped apart. “You look tired, is everything all right?” Jamie had told him that Stuart was traveling a lot lately when they’d last talked; Abram had checked a few documents for the family to ensure that everything was on the up and up in the contracts.

“Too much drinking with Camillo last night,” Stuart complained. “Looking forward to being home for a bit.” He gave Abram an exhausted smile as he scratched King’s chin. “I know you’re busy the next few days, but if you’ve some time, call me and we’ll have some tea, yeah?”

Abram nodded in agreement. “That’s doable.” They should be able to meet up while Aaron and Katelyn were busy with the conference.

“Good. There’s some chocolates and jenever for you, and Ravi will show up with the cars when you need one, just call.” Stuart waved to Andrew as he left, and Davis bent over to give a meowing Sir a stroke along the back on the way out.

“Couldn’t he have brought some damn whisky?” Andrew complained as he headed straight to the boxes of chocolates out on the island while Abram shook his head and set King down on the floor.

“Your life’s so hard,” Abram remarked as he picked up the bottles of gin-like liquor and stored them away in the cabinet (he had a feeling he’d need them soon enough). “So, we eating in tonight or going out?”

“In, since we’ll be going out the next few nights,” Andrew said between bites of sweets.

That decided, Abram checked the fridge and cabinets before he settled on a spicy chicken and rice dish to make later, and worked on a few more documents for Jamie in-between calls with his cousin and Nicky while Andrew read a book. They went out to sit by the fish pond for a little while before he started on dinner, a mug of tea in his hands and a glass of whisky in Andrew’s, an enjoyable half an hour where Andrew made his usual threats over the poor fish and Abram slumped down enough to rest his head against his husband’s broad shoulder, content to sit there next to him and enjoy the peace and quiet.

Then he was given a shove to the knee and told to go cook something that wouldn’t poison the both of them.

Abram bit back a smile as he called his husband a prat for the umpteenth time, affection a warm tingle in his chest.

Andrew sat at the island and texted with Nicky while he made their dinner, and had a glass of wine waiting for him once it was done (and stole the damn naan once Abram sat down). It was nights like these which Abram treasured the most during all the years they’d been together, when they ‘bickered’ during dinner then curled up together in the living room (since it was late spring it wasn’t too warm yet for a fire) to watch a few episodes of a baking show they both enjoyed (easy to follow with their schedule) then head upstairs after a few hours.

They were tired, but not too tired. Looks were exchanged and clothes were shed before they sprawled out on opposite ends of the bed, where Abram spent a moment enjoying the sight of Andrew’s stocky yet muscular body (save for the slightest pouch of fat on his belly which he adored) before he gasped as his husband stroked his half-tumescent cock then leaned in to nuzzle it and-

He much enjoyed it when Andrew performed oral sex, but he also much enjoyed it when he could reduce Andrew to a shuddering mess with his mouth and hands, so it was the best of both worlds when they both blew each other. It didn’t take long until they both were shivering messes sprawled out on the bed, and then the bastard dragged him off to the shower to wash off before they tucked in beneath the blankets for a restful night’s sleep.

Mostly.

Andrew was up first, which was a rare occasion; Abram resisted the temptation to follow his husband out of the bed but decided to give him a bit of peace (half an hour) before he got up as well. He found Andrew working out and only put in a mile or two on the treadmill before he went to wash off then began work on a batch of chocolate chip and hazelnut hotcakes. It was right as he finished the last one that Andrew joined him, fresh from his own shower.

“I guess you won’t be fish bait just yet, babe,” the prat remarked as he rested his chin on Abram’s left shoulder and wrapped his right arm around Abram’s waist.

“If it wouldn’t be so traumatic to the cats and Nicky, I’d file for divorce,” Abram teased as he added the last hotcake to the huge stack next to the stove.

Andrew clicked his tongue before he snatched up the plate. “You’ve never had it so good and you know it.”

Yes, Abram did indeed ‘know it’, but there was no need to say it, was there? “Did you hit your head with a weight or what?” he asked instead, and rolled his eyes when Andrew made a rude gesture his way. “I’ve merely decided to wait for you to die from clogged arteries or diabetes instead, it’s much easier than dealing with solicitors and the such, hon.”

“What was that?” Andrew waited until he was seated at the island and his precious carbs set down to reach for his phone. “I’m making note of this so when we’re either divorced or you mysteriously disappear one day, there’s no problem with me taking custody of the cats and Bren – yet another cruel comment bordering on abuse.” He made a show of typing on his phone before he set it down then got up to fetch the whipped cream and syrup for his hotcakes. “How I suffer for this relationship.”

“Yeah, yeah, be sure to tell Nicky – oh, wait, I’ll do it for you.” Abram grinned when Andrew’s shoulders hunched upward at that remark. “I’m sure he’ll be ever so helpful with recommendations on how to save our marriage.”

Andrew gave him a long, level look for several seconds (which was impressive, considering the stack of hotcakes before him) before he spoke. “He’ll torment you just as much as me, you know.”

Ah, a flaw in an otherwise perfect plan. “Uhm… I’ll be off with Stuart?”

“You think the pest won’t rat you out to the family?”

Dammit, there was that – Stuart had actually calmed down on the whole ‘Andrew is bad’ front and all. “He’ll still be worse with you,” Abram argued as he set about making some scrambled eggs for himself.

“Right. Idiot.” Still, Andrew appeared smug as he finally cut into his stack of sugary carbs, so Abram felt pleased as he prepared his own breakfast. Once it was done, he sat down and rolled his eyes at how most of the hotcakes were already gone.

Andrew checked his phone while they ate and reported that Maddy had sent the intel for the Hungary mission, which they’d start parsing through later. Abram had just enough time to wash the dishes and go change before they left for the airport in the Aston Martin sedan which Navi had dropped off for them to use to pick up Aaron and Katelyn since neither of the sports cars in the garage would handle four people and luggage. Since Andrew didn’t trust anyone but the two of them or Bren (who made sure the cars didn’t sit idle too long) driving the sports cars, they didn’t want to have them out of the garage for the few days that Aaron and Katelyn were in town, so Ravi would drop off and pick up the sedans whenever Andrew needed one to drive his brother around town rather than let them sit in the driveway overnight.

Abram waited until they were past the worst of the traffic to speak up. “Aaron’s into general practice and Katelyn’s pediatrics?” He hadn’t paid much attention when Andrew spoke about his brother, other than to note that they were getting along (finally).

“Yes.” Andrew tapped his fingers against the steering wheel then sighed. “They both work at the Medical University of South Carolina in Charleston. Guess it balances out us a bit, right?” He glanced aside at Abram with a slight quirk to the corner of his mouth. “We kill people, they heal them.”

“We don’t kill everyone,” Abram argued. “There’s some missions where people live.” He smiled when Andrew snorted in dissent. “Whatever.”

“Whatever indeed.” Andrew’s eyes narrowed at the hatchback driving much too slow in front of them. “I’m about to kill someone right now.”

Someone was probably going to get multiple vehicle violations in the mail within the next few days, Abram suspected, but for once the threat wasn’t directed toward himself so he merely settled a little lower in the comfortable leather seat and used his phone to check the traffic ahead.

They reached Heathrow shortly after Aaron texted to say that he and Katelyn had cleared Customs and retrieved their luggage, and so drove to Arrivals to pick them up. For some reason the two had declared that they didn’t have to go into the airport to greet them, so Andrew drove the sedan to the general arrival area where the two should be waiting and found them by spotting Aaron’s familiar visage.

The couple appeared surprised by the Aston Martin as it pulled up to the curb and when both Andrew and Abram exited the vehicle, with Katelyn breaking into a grin while Aaron shook his head. “It’s so good to see you!” the young woman exclaimed as she made an abortive motion as if to give Andrew a hug then thought better of it. “Thank you so much for coming to pick us up.”

“Ah, yeah, you didn’t have to do that,” Aaron said in a much more subdued manner; he was dressed in worn jeans and a MUSC long-sleeved t-shirt, while Katelyn wore leggings and a brightly colored PSU sweatshirt. “We could have taken a cab or something.”

“But the hotel room won’t be ready for a few hours,” Abram said while Andrew grabbed the luggage to put into the car’s boot. “I thought that’s why-“

“Ignore him,” Katelyn insisted as she nudged her husband in the side. “He’s grumpy because of the long flight.” She gave Abram a grateful smile while Aaron huffed and went to help his brother with the luggage. “We appreciate everything you’re doing for us.”

“Uhm, it’s nothing, really.” Abram motioned toward the car and fumbled for the door handle so he could open it for her. “Let’s get going.”

“Okay.”

Katelyn smiled as he closed the door once she was inside, yet Aaron gave Abram a displeased look over the hood of the car before he slid inside. Abram frowned over the reaction then shrugged as he returned to his seat up front.

“This your car?” Aaron asked once they drove away from the airport. “Seems a bit too normal for you, a bit proper and all.”

Abram bit into his bottom lip to hold back a chuckle as Andrew revved the 560 horse power engine to easily bypass the traffic as they merged onto the highway. “It’s not bad for a loaner, but I much prefer the Vantage S Roadster or the Maclaren 720S. They’re not meant for four people,” Andrew stated in a bored tone, “unless you want to ride on the roof.” He gave a look at his brother through the rear-view mirror. “That an option?”

His brother was quiet for several seconds before he made a disgusted noise. “Like rubbing it in that you’ve got money now, don’t you?”

“Aaron,” Katelyn protested in a quiet, unhappy voice.

“I wasn’t the one to bring it up,” Andrew pointed out as his hands tightened around the steering wheel.

That seemed to deflate Aaron’s bad attitude as he slumped back in the seat and was quiet for the rest of the drive to the townhouse. After about ten minutes, Abram spoke out in Chinese. “Perhaps we can be assigned to Hungary a little early.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Andrew replied, but there was the slightest bit of humor in his deep voice and his grip relaxed.

It looked as if Aaron wanted to say something when they reached the townhouse, but Katelyn managed to step on his foot before she walked away from the car. “It’s lovely,” she said in a bright manner as they entered the building.

“Ah, thank you.” Abram was a little unnerved by how cheerful she was about everything, despite being used to Nicky’s exuberant nature; why was she with a dour person like Aaron? “Would you like something to drink? Tea or coffee?”

“Tea?” Aaron muttered as he glanced around. “Can he be any more British?” That seemed to be directed at Andrew.

Katelyn’s smile appeared a little strained at the comment, and then Sir came trotting along, probably attracted to the sound of their voices. “Aw, would look at… him?” she asked as she glanced at Abram, who nodded. “Aw, such a pretty boy,” she cooed as she bent down to pet Sir, who began to purr at the attention. “And coffee, if it’s not too much trouble. We’re trying to stay awake until tonight, we heard it’s best for jet-lag.”

Abram made a quick escape to the kitchen and left it to Andrew to show his family around the first floor of the townhouse. He heard Katelyn’s excited voice as the coffee brewed, and the three returned as he poured the hot beverage in four mugs; it didn’t come as a surprise when Andrew headed straight for the cabinet which contained the whisky.

“The place really is lovely,” Katelyn exclaimed as she leaned against the island as she looked around at everything. “I especially like the backyard. We keep talking about getting a townhouse one day, but we’re so busy with work right now that an apartment is easier to maintain.”

“It won’t be anything like this,” Aaron muttered, but he gave Andrew a slight, grateful smile when whisky was added to his mug. “We’re saving up enough money that we’ll get something nice for Charleston.”

“Just another year or two!” Katelyn gave a slight laugh as she leaned against her husband with an arm wrapped around his waist. “And by that point, we should be able to enjoy the new home! You know what they say about residents and long hours.”

Aaron grimaced at that. “I didn’t think anything could make me feel as tired as Day’s obnoxious practices when we reached the semi-finals, but a twenty-hour shift will do it.”

Abram perked up a little at the mention of Exy, at least until his husband gave him a ‘gentle’ kick in the right ankle. “So lots of long days, huh?” he asked as he got up to fetch a tin of biscuits to go along with the coffee, which he made sure to set close to Andrew. “I’m sure you have stories to tell, yes?”

He might not know how to deal with ‘normal’ people like Aaron and Katelyn after being raised by criminals and murderers, but he knew how to get people talking, especially after going to work for Lloyd. Especially after seeing the flashes of envy in Aaron’s eyes (an emotion so unfamiliar in Andrew’s) since picking the couple up from the airport.

It didn’t take much prodding for the two (especially Aaron) to reminisce about stories during their years as interns and residents, about the patients they’d treated while on the long training shifts and their fellow students. For a while it appeared that Aaron tried to disturb them by recounting the most gruesome stories that he could, but gave up when neither Abram nor Andrew were bothered (that and it seemed as if Katelyn did some kicking of her own).

If only Aaron had a clue what his brother had been up to the last few years, but all he’d been told was that Abram’s family was in ‘shipping and trading’ and that the two of them currently worked for the government.

Abram noticed that Andrew avoided looking at Katelyn directly when she talked, his gaze often cast at the mug held behind his hands, and figured that his husband still had some issues in regards to Aaron’s relationship. He also noticed that Aaron focused his attention on his brother rather than look at him, especially once it was clear that Abram wasn’t the ‘squeamish’ sort.

Andrew wasn’t the only one with his issues, it seemed.

Katelyn was in the middle of talking about some child who’d eaten too much raw pizza dough when her phone chimed. “Oh,” she said when she read the message. “We can check in now.”

Andrew stood up while Abram gathered the mugs. “It won’t take long to get to the hotel,” Andrew said as he walked away (probably for a cigarette before the drive into the city), and Aaron excused himself for a moment, which left Abram and Katelyn alone in the kitchen. He went to put the mugs in the dishwasher and was surprised when Katelyn came over with the tin of biscuits.

“Uhm, we really appreciate all of this,” she said in a quiet voice. “I know you don’t have to drive us around or have dinner with us and stuff, that it probably would have been enough for Andrew and Aaron to just meet up for coffee or something.” She gave Abram a wry smile when he held up one of the mugs. “He might not show it, but it means a lot to Aaron that Andrew’s willing to spend so much time with him after everything, and he’s… he’s trying, honest.”

Abram was beginning to see why Aaron had fought his brother so much (according to Nicky) for this woman, with her cheerful disposition, intelligence and obvious love for the man. “Well, he is a Minyard,” Abram said once the dishes were put away. “I know what to expect.”

She giggled a little and nodded. “Yes, and while they’re wonderful men, they’re stubborn as well. Very stubborn.”

“Ah….” Abram made a show of holding up his hands and shaking his head in a clear sign of not wanting to incriminate himself (at least, not when there was a chance of Andrew walking in at any moment).

Katelyn giggled some more and gave him a sympathetic look. “Right, not trying to get you in trouble, but I understand. I can’t always say that we’ve gotten along,” she rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner at that, “but I’m happy that Andrew found someone.”

“Thank you.” Figuring it was best to change the subject before his husband returned, Abram motioned to the young woman’s purse. “So, there’s a couple of dinners we arranged and a friend of ours lined up a tour we think you and Aaron might enjoy, but do you want or need to do any shopping while you’re in town? Anything to take back home?” There’d been times when some friends of Nicky’s had come for a visit and needed souvenirs and the such. “I’ve a good friend who works at Harrods who can be of assistance.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful!” Katelyn beamed at the offer and went on about a shopping list she’d been given by her coworkers and her mother, as well as a couple items she’d hoped to find before she left; both Andrew and Aaron rolled their eyes as she talked while Abram sent a text to Liliya to arrange an afternoon when the two could meet up – maybe even have Nicky join in since he’d probably enjoy the excursion and got along well with Liliya.

Tension seemed to leave Andrew’s shoulders once the couple was dropped off at their hotel, and it was a quiet ride back to the townhouse. Abram made them some spiked tea and tugged Andrew out to sit by the pond, content to be alone with his husband once again. “That wasn’t too bad, was it? Katelyn seems nice.”

For once, he didn’t think the frown directed at the pond had anything to do with Andrew’s ‘dislike’ with the fish. “She’s still annoying as ever,” Andrew proclaimed before drinking his tea.

“Really?” Abram sighed as he leaned against Andrew. “How long are you going to hold this grudge? I mean, it’s just been… what, almost ten years? Something like that?” Couldn’t he just accept the poor woman already?

“Forgiven Ally for Calais yet?” Andrew asked as he stole Abram’s tea, the bastard.

“Never mind,” Abram sighed as he slumped down on the bench. “It’s going to be a few awkward dinners, how wonderful. At least I’m not driving.” He had a feeling that there would be at least a bottle or two of wine consumed at dinner.

“I put up with your insane family all the time, you can put up with Aaron and the cheerleader tramp for a few nights,” Andrew told him in that ‘agree with me or else’ tone that always made Abram want to grit his teeth.

“I don’t mind the cheerleader ‘tramp’, I just have to put up with some weird, twisted copy of you.” Abram scoffed as he thought about Aaron. “Does he really think he’s getting anywhere with those feeble scowls and insults? After I’ve lived with you this long?”

There was a slight twitch to Andrew’s full lips before he finished Abram’s tea. “It is rather amusing to see him try, isn’t it?”

“Prat,” Abram said as he rested his head on Andrew’s shoulder. “Why do I bother with you?”

“Someone has to remind you to feed the damn fish, babe.”

“More like make sure you don’t try to fry them up one day, hon.” Abram hummed in happiness as his husband tugged on a lock of his hair then closed his eyes so he could enjoy Andrew’s presence and the sound of falling water. It was quiet for at least a few minutes before Andrew tugged on his hair again, harder that time. “Ow, what?”

“Come on, it looks like it’s going to rain and I’m not about to have you get soaked then pass out on me during a mission again.”

“One time,” Abram moaned as he stood up. “One fucking time. Are you ever going to let that go, either?” he asked, even though he suspected he knew the answer already.

“No,” Andrew said in a succinct manner as he gave him a slight push toward the townhouse. “Idiot.”

Abram wondered if he could get Katelyn alone during her visit and commiserate over living with a Minyard (former Minyard, in his case, he supposed) for a good hour or two, perhaps see if she had any advice which may come in handy (other than ‘render him unconscious for a bit of peace and quiet’).

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#nekojitachanfics #armies fic #andreil #aftg au #neil as abram #neil josten #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #aaron/katelyn #Anonymous

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toohardtoforgetcth · 4 years

Text

Too Hard To Forget

Chapter Two

Warnings: Swearing, angst, the usual

4,570 words

A/N: I’ve been waiting to post chapter two of this fic until I got some interest in the first bit so here it is! Feedback is so so appreciated since this is the first piece of writing I’ve ever published and I’d love to know what you think!

It had been twelve days since Parker’s awkward exchange with Calum at the record store, and eight days since he had put the fear of God into her outside Grace’s room. She was surprised to discover he hadn’t been in to visit Grace in four days. In the short time she’d known him, she’d come to realize that it was unlike him to go more than a day or two without visiting.

Despite being downright terrified of him, Parker felt drawn to Calum. Every time he knocked her down, she found herself wanting to come running back for more. Parker’s curiosity got the best of her, and she couldn’t stop herself from asking Grace where he’d been.

“Everything okay with your grandson—Calum, right? Haven’t seen him all week,” she asked nonchalantly, but the old woman saw right through her.

She smiled a knowing smile, making Parker blush. “I told you he wasn’t so bad, didn’t I?” she winked.

Parker made a face. She would never say so, but she had to disagree with her on that one. She wondered if Grace really knew the effect her grandson had on people.

“Anyhow, he’s been so busy with work. Poor boy. It’s a terrible job. He could do so much better, he just doesn’t know it.”

Parker pondered this for a moment. Hating his job would explain why he was so moody all the time—she couldn’t imagine having to wake up every morning and work your life away at a place that made you miserable. “If anyone can convince him, it’s you, Grace,” Parker smiled.

» » » » » »

Friday afternoon, Parker still hadn’t seen Calum. She had been hopeful every time the front door opened and disappointed to discover it wasn’t him. She wasn’t sure why she felt that way—Calum scared her, and she should really learn to just let it go. Maybe there was a part of her—a competitive part—that wanted to win his friendship, simply because his cold demeanor made him a kind of challenge.

Calum wasn’t a nice guy—that much was obvious. He had given Parker plenty of reasons to want to stay away from him. He was clearly not interested in her—as friends or otherwise. In fact, he had been nothing but hostile towards her since their first meeting. But still, she couldn’t stop thinking about the man with the chocolate brown eyes. She daydreamed about those eyes, his muscled frame, soft brown curls. He was alluring, and Parker wondered what he was really like, under all the black and tattoos and leather, wondered if he had a soft side that anyone besides Grace was ever privileged enough to see.

• • • • • •

Calum was sick and fucking tired of Tom’s bullshit. He was this fucking close to quitting today and telling him to go fuck himself when he got a call from Gram. No matter what kind of shit Calum got himself into, Gram was always there when he needed her most, saving him when he didn’t even know he needed saving.

“Hi dear,” her shaky voice sounded from the other end.

Calum sighed deeply. He missed her voice. He missed her. He felt like shit for not going to see her, but he’d just been feeling so inexplicably angry and irritable the past week, and honestly, it was draining him. He knew he should visit, wanted to, but Calum couldn’t hide anything from Gram and he didn’t want her to worry. And he had to admit that subconsciously, he’d been avoiding Parker. Calum thought maybe some distance from her would keep his mind from wandering back to her, but so far he had been unsuccessful. He had a pretty good idea why he had been so bitter lately, and it was because of a pretty blonde with grey eyes. Parker was throwing him off—he’d never spent more than one night thinking about the same girl—and he didn’t like it.

“Hi, pretty lady,” he breathed, relaxing a little.

“Everything alright, honey? I haven’t seen you all week,” she sounded sad. It broke Calum’s heart. You piece of shit, he thought to himself. She doesn’t deserve this.

“I know,” he exhaled. “I’m sorry, Gram,” he said sincerely. “I don’t have a good reason. I gotta get back to work, but I’ll come see you tomorrow, okay? I promise.”

• • • • • •

Parker was coming back from her lunch break when she noticed Calum emerging from the double doors of the lobby. Her heart skipped a beat when she locked eyes with him. His dark eyes bore into hers, leaving her feeling strangely exposed. He said nothing, looking away from her as he put a cigarette between his lips, stopping to light it as the door shut behind him.

She hadn’t seen him since he lashed out at her for listening at Grace’s door, but apparently Parker had a death wish.

“Hey,” she greeted quietly with a small smile as she approached the door, more out of politeness than to spark conversation. She knew he wouldn’t stop to chat with her, but Parker wasn’t going to ignore his existence, the way he did with her. Hopefully he didn’t rip her head off for trying to be polite.

Calum caught her by surprise when he responded.

“Hey.”

Progress, Parker thought. A definite improvement from the complete silence or burning hostility that he usually greeted her with. Taking advantage of his sudden mood change, Parker stopped in front of Calum. He watched her with curious eyes, taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing a cloud of smoke to the side.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” she observed casually.

“Been busy,” he replied with a shrug.

God, he made it so difficult to have a normal conversation, but Parker was determined to change his falsely skewed opinion of her.

“Grace has been missing you. She talks about you all the time,” Parker commented, heart picking up as she noticed his eyebrows drawing together and his shoulders tense. Shit, wrong thing to say. Fuck, here we go again.

“Like I said, I’ve been busy,” he pushed off the wall, standing to his full height and looking down at Parker. “Doesn’t really concern you, anyway, does it?” he spat bitterly as he flicked his half-smoked cigarette to the pavement, stalking away.

Parker stared after him, wishing she had kept her mouth shut. What was his problem?

• • • • • •

Later that afternoon, Jenna sat cross-legged on Parker’s bed, painting her nails. Parker lay on her back, Loki curled up between her legs.

“What’s got you all moody today?” Jenna pressed, recognizing the face Parker usually made when she was overthinking.

“Ugh,” she groaned, flipping over onto her stomach. Loki let out a displeased meow at being disrupted, launching off the bed. “Stupid Calum,” Parker rolled her eyes in frustration.

“Ooh, hottie grandma’s boy? Elaborate, please,” Jenna gushed, scooting closer.

“I ran into him at work today. I haven’t seen him all week, and then he showed up out of the blue. He actually said hi to me, so I tried to make conversation since that’s the most he’s said to me, like, ever.” Parker sat up, facing Jenna. “And then he just—snapped at me. I don’t know what I did—why he hates me so much,” she flopped back down on the bed, blowing out a sigh.

Jenna giggled. “Not everyone is going to like you, babe. That’s life. Anyway, he sounds like a total d-bag. Why do you even care what he thinks?”

“I don’t know,” Parker admitted. “He just seems—different. I can’t help but feel like there’s this whole other side to him and I don’t know why but I feel this, like, need to get to know him. He is a d-bag,” she laughed, “but I can’t stop thinking about him.”

“Sounds like you need a distraction,” Jenna’s face twisted into a sly grin. “We’re going out tonight.”

• • • • • •

Calum was sitting comfortably on his couch, trying to unwind with a beer and a bad movie after a particularly shitty ending to an otherwise great visit with Gram. He had been avoiding Parker, and after a week of not seeing her, he felt the unwelcome feeling of butterflies in his stomach the second he laid eyes on her. It was a sensation he was wildly unfamiliar with but had grown accustomed to feeling whenever she was around.

And then she had to open her mouth and ruin everything. This girl really knew how to get him going.

To be fair, she hadn’t really said anything wrong. Her comment only pissed Calum off because he had already been feeling guilty for blowing off his visits with Gram and he was mad at himself. His response was harsh—he could tell it hurt her. He wished he didn’t care, but he did. As much as he hated to admit it, Calum was intrigued by Parker, and it was unsettling. He didn’t like feeling captivated by her—it made him feel vulnerable and Calum was not vulnerable. Parker made him feel like he had no control, and he hated it. He was trying and failing to come up with a way to get this girl out of his head when his three best friends burst through the door of his apartment unannounced.

“Put a shirt on, we’re hitting the town tonight,” his friend Michael shouted enthusiastically, heading straight into the kitchen and rooting through Calum’s fridge for a beer. He pulled out three, handing one to Ashton and Luke before opening his own.

Besides Gram, Calum loved only three people in this world; Michael, Ashton and Luke. The four of them had been best friends since high school, and they loved Calum unconditionally, despite his harsh tendencies and his troubled past.

“Boys, I’m relaxing,” Calum stretched his long legs out on the coffee table. “I’m not in the mood for your drunken misadventures tonight.”

Luke launched himself onto the couch, head landing in Calum’s lap. “Too bad, babycakes, we’re going out. So get up, get dressed, get pretty. You got ten minutes.” Luke reached up and pinched his cheek affectionately, taking a long swig of his beer.

Calum rolled his eyes at the tall blonde with the bright blue eyes, but he couldn’t help the grin that graced his lips. He’d been thinking about Parker all day, and truthfully, he could use a night out with his boys.

• • • • • •

Parker was feeling good, having downed several drinks since arriving at the bar with Jenna and a few of her other friends, but she was getting tired of dancing. Deciding she needed a break, she and Jenna wove their way through the crowd of tightly packed bodies before reaching the bar. She ordered a vodka and cranberry for Jenna and a beer for herself. She was sliding her cash across the bar top when she felt Jenna’s hand close around her forearm.

“Oh, my god,” she leaned in. “You’ll never guess who’s here.”

Parker followed her friends’ gaze to the other end of the bar, where Calum was leaning against a pillar, talking with three other ridiculously attractive men. Parker groaned. She came out tonight to think of things other than Calum, and there he was, in all his glory, demanding her attention.

“Why are they all so hot?!” Jenna gaped.

As if on cue, Calum turned his head in their direction, his dark eyes meeting Parker’s. His face fell, clearly not impressed upon seeing her here. She looked away immediately, flushing.

“Oh, Jesus. He saw me staring. Kill me now.”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” Jenna brushed her off with a wave of her hand. “Come on, let’s go back.”

She grabbed Parker’s wrist, dragging her back to the dance floor. Parker threw a subtle glance over her shoulder, where she caught Calum’s eye again. He was still watching her, not a trace of a smile on his lips.

• • • • • •

Calum stood by the bar, unmoving from his spot by the pillar. He’d been nursing a beer for the last hour, no longer in the mood to get drunk. His focus was on the blonde dancing with her friends, hips swaying and body moving in all the right ways. He hadn’t expected Parker to be here tonight, and it killed his vibe. The very thing he had come here to distract himself from was dancing fifty feet from where he stood, and he couldn’t tear his thoughts—or his eyes—away.

Calum was nothing if not experienced when it came to women. He had an attitude and a hard edge that women just seemed drawn to. He would never understand the obsession they had with the bad boy type, but he wasn’t complaining. Calum was not a relationship guy. He had two rules—never stay the night, never bring them home. Their place, quick and dirty, then disappear when they fell asleep—that’s how Calum liked it. He liked to be in control. That’s why Parker unnerved him—he’d never been drawn to anyone the way he was to her. She fascinated him in a way he didn’t understand. He’d been watching her all night, and he was starting to get irritated. He needed something else to occupy his racing thoughts.

“You got your eye on that pretty blonde one, don’t you, pal?” Ashton nudged him, snapping him out of his reverie.

“What?” Calum shook his head as if to shake the image of her out of his mind. “No. I just—I know her.”

“Bullshit. I know that look,” Ashton mused.

Calum scoffed. “I don’t have a look.”

Ashton was the oldest of the four of them, and he knew them better than anyone. There wasn’t a thing he could hide from any of his boys, least of all Ashton.

Ashton’s expression turned sympathetic. “Cal, you can’t tell me you don’t get lonely. All you do is work, and Gram is the only girl you spend more than a day with. Don’t you think it’s time to try sticking with one girl, maybe?”

“Fuck off, mate. It’s none of your business,” Calum snapped.

Ashton’s expression softened. “I’m just worried about you, man. We all are.”

Calum pushed off from the pillar, annoyed. He knew Ashton meant well—it was obvious how much he cared for his boys. Like brothers. He was the glue that kept them all together. He was wise for his age, and he was the one they went to when they needed advice. But Calum wasn’t in the mood for his profound bullshit tonight. He needed a smoke.

Calum pushed through the throngs of people in the bar, earning glares from a few of them as he shoved them out of his way. He felt himself calm down almost immediately once he opened the heavy metal door at the back of the bar, the cool air hitting his face. He stepped out onto the deserted patio, pulling a cigarette from the pack in his pocket. He lit it and closed his eyes, leaning back against the brick wall. He let the smoke burn his lungs, but it didn’t clear the fog in his brain like he had hoped it would.

Calum considered what Ashton said to him inside. He was pissed off at Ash for calling him out, but he had a point, though Calum would never admit it. He couldn’t explain why he didn’t want to settle down. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the girls he slept with, it’s just that he couldn’t see himself doing ordinary things with any of them. They were all just nameless faces, there to satisfy a need and that was it. He couldn’t picture himself waking up and making breakfast, staying up late watching movies, grocery shopping, with any of them. The only person he daydreamed about doing those things with was Parker. And that scared the living shit out of him.

Maybe his problem was that Calum didn’t know how to be someone’s boyfriend. He hadn’t grown up with parents, his grandfather died when he was only eight, and Gram never remarried. Calum was good at being alone. He wasn’t happy, but it was all he had ever known. The only girl he ever had somewhat of a relationship with—if you could even call it that—was Kendra, his first year out of high school. The rest of the boys went off to college while he stayed back and worked, and they dated for all of a month until she started sleeping around on him. He never loved her, but after that he decided that would be the first and only time he let himself care about someone.

When he finished his cigarette, he stubbed it out under his boot and headed back inside. He ordered himself another drink, returning to where he left the boys. Parker was still dancing, and Calum used all the strength he had in his body to force himself not to look at her.

A dozen feet away, he locked eyes with a cute brunette in a tight dress, leaving very little to the imagination. She flashed him a sexy smile, raising her drink to him.

Yeah, that’s exactly what he needed right now. A distraction in a tight dress.

He returned her smile with a lazy one of his own, which she took as an invitation to approach him. Good. Calum liked it better when he didn’t have to do all the work.

“Can I buy you a drink, handsome?” she asked in a sultry voice.

“Depends. You gonna take me home?”

• • • • • •

Parker took a break around midnight, her feet aching and her mouth dry from the alcohol. Walking past the bar to the bathroom, she caught sight of Calum sitting on a stool, a beautiful girl with long, dark hair standing between his legs. He was smiling, his hands on her hips, and Parker felt a pang of jealousy hit her in the chest. You have nothing to be jealous of, she scolded herself. He’s an asshole—why do you like him? In that moment, Parker realized that she most certainly had feelings for Calum, even if she didn’t really know anything about him. Even though she was confused about what those feelings were, she knew she didn’t like seeing him with another girl. Parker changed her mind about taking a break. Seeing Calum with someone made her want to down several shots and forget he existed.

• • • • • •

Half an hour later, Calum said his goodbyes to the boys, leaving the bar with his arm slung around the shoulders of the brunette. As they passed the dance floor, he scanned the crowd for Parker. Calum spotted her in the same place she had been earlier, only this time she looked up and their eyes locked. He flashed her a cocky smile and winked, feeling equal parts satisfied and guilty at the expression that crossed her features.

He’d have to be blind not to see that look. It was written there, plain as day, on her face. She was hurt.

• • • • • •

Calum untucked himself from the grip of the sleeping brunette, slipping out of the bed that wasn’t his own. He didn’t even remember her name. She was pretty, but Calum hadn’t really been in the mood tonight. Something didn’t feel right, and a nagging voice in the back of his head told him it was because of a certain grey-eyed girl. He found his clothes on the floor, quickly dressing and shrugging on his leather jacket before finding his boots. He tugged them on as he shut the door silently behind him, leaving the girl with nothing but his first name and a night she wouldn’t forget.

Calum couldn’t say the same.

Calum stepped outside, thankful for the fresh air—the girl’s apartment was stuffy as hell. She didn’t live too far, taking Calum only 20 minutes to make it back to his apartment on foot. Enough time to have a smoke and clear his head. Despite the smoke burning his lungs, he was unable to erase the image of Parker’s face when he left the bar. Why had he taunted her, on purpose? What reason did he have to want to hurt her? When Calum finally settled in his own bed, he found himself wishing he never went out tonight.

» » » » » »

Parker spent most of Sunday morning being lazy in bed, hiding under the covers until the early afternoon, moving from her bed only to be lazy on the couch instead. She was having a great night dancing with her friends and letting loose until a certain moody, tattooed brunette ruined her night by going home with another girl. She wished that it was her going home with Calum, and that thought disturbed her. He was an asshole and Parker knew nothing good could come of her feelings for him, but she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She had left the bar shortly after he did, her good mood spoiled when she thought about what he was doing.

» » » » » »

Parker awoke on Monday in a foul mood. She spent Sunday sad and stewing over Calum and how she’d never have him, but today she felt downright angry. Calum was a jerk and he was trying to hurt her, and for what reason? She deserved far better. Her sour mood only got worse when she arrived at work and spotted Calum in the hallway. He had his usual scowl on his face and he ignored her as he passed by, yet again.

Normally, she’d let it go and pretend not to let it bother her. Normally, she was a people-pleaser and hated confrontation.

Not today.

No, today there was no holding back. She was going to give him a piece of her mind.

She whirled around as Calum walked in the opposite direction, away from her.

“What is your problem with me? Did I do something to offend you, or are you just an asshole all the time?” she demanded.

Calum stopped, slowly turning around to face her.

“Excuse me?” he replied dangerously, taking a step towards her.

“Since the first time we met, you’ve acted like a complete jackass. Every time I see you, you either ignore me entirely or you try and scare me with that stupid badass attitude,” she paused. When he said nothing, she huffed in annoyance. “Get over yourself, pal. We all go through shit, there’s no need to be a dick about it.”

Parker was surprised at herself for her outburst, which was completely out of character for her. But Calum had pissed her off one too many times—he wasn’t getting away with it again. She placed a hand on her hip, eyebrows raised, waiting for an explanation.

The cocky smirk he wore turned into a menacing glare. He took two more steps towards her, their toes touching. He was so close that she could feel his breath on her face. He smelled incredible, like the woods, and spice, with a hint of smoke. Stop it, dumbass. You shouldn’t be thinking about how good he smells right now. His tall frame forced her to tilt her head back to look at him. His dark eyes glittered, but not in a kind way. He grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Watch your mouth, doll,” he said threateningly.

Parker’s spine chilled, goosebumps raising along her arms and the back of her neck. His use of a pet name gave her butterflies, but she knew he didn’t mean it in an adoring way. Calum frightened her—this she already knew. But confronting him was clearly a bad idea, one she hadn’t thought through—she was stupid for getting on his bad side. It was obvious he wasn’t one to be messed with, and he definitely didn’t have any qualms about voicing his opinion.

The rest of her workday she spent thinking about their confrontation. The unsettling feeling Calum’s presence gave her weighed heavily in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know whether her feelings towards him were attraction, fear, or a dangerous mix of both.

• • • • • •

This girl was going to be the death of him. Calum had been stunned when Parker called him out this morning. He hadn’t expected it from her, of all people. She was usually so bright and cheery, going out of her way to be nice to him even when he lashed out at her. And even though her words made him angry, all he could think about was putting that mouth of hers to good use. Calum didn’t know how much longer he was going to be able to keep this up. The more she pissed him off, the stronger the pull was to her. It was beginning to become difficult to deny that he felt things for Parker.

» » » » » »

Parker and Jenna were dancing the night away at a club downtown on Thursday night, much needed after working overtime hours this week. She had had one too many drinks, her head fuzzy and spinning. She had Friday off, and she was looking forward to nursing her hangover on the couch, curled up with her cat and watching Netflix. Parker excused herself to use the bathroom. She splashed cold water on her face in an attempt to sober herself up a bit, and when she returned, Jenna was wrapped in the arms of a guy that was exactly Jenna’s type. It was getting late, and Parker was drunk; she wanted to go home.

“Hey, I’m gonna head home. You coming?”

“I think I might stay,” she said, obviously distracted by the handsome blonde dancing in front of her. She turned to Parker. “Unless you want me to come. Do you need me to come with you?” she asked.

Parker appreciated Jenna’s offer, but she knew she didn’t want to go. “No, you stay. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Parker turned to make her way off the dance floor. “Be good,” she added with a smug smile.

• • • • • •

Parker sat on the curb outside waiting for her cab. She should probably have waited inside the bar, but she had hoped the fresh air would sober her up a bit. Her head was still spinning, and she could hardly keep her eyes open. It had been at least fifteen minutes and she was beginning to get tired of waiting. She could probably have walked halfway home by now, so she stood on shaky legs and headed in the direction of her apartment. She silently thanked her sober self for picking sneakers over heels. It was a warm night, typical of August, but she pulled her denim jacket on anyway, not wanting to have to carry it.

Walking through a particularly sketchy area of downtown, Parker got an uneasy feeling in her gut that she was being followed. She chanced a quick glance over her shoulder, and her heart started pounding when she realized her suspicions were right. There were two men walking behind her, picking up their pace as she attempted to pick up her own, but her legs were still wobbly from the alcohol buzzing in her veins. She should have stayed and waited for the stupid cab.

“What’s your hurry, sweetheart?” one of the men called out from behind her, his gravelly voice sending a shiver down her spine.

“Where’re you off to? We can take you home, honey,” the other one drawled, turning Parker’s stomach.

Parker all but broke into a run, desperate to make it onto the nearest busy street before they caught up to her. She could hear their footsteps closing in when a black 1970 Charger screeched to a halt at the curb. Parker stopped dead, panic setting in. Her instinct was to run, but her feet were frozen in fear. A hooded figure emerged from the car, slamming the door behind him. This is it, Parker thought. She prepared herself to fight back, but the three against one odds were not in her favour. The streetlights illuminated his face as the stranger approached her and Parker’s chest flooded with relief when she recognized those familiar brown eyes.

Calum.

On second thought, Parker wasn’t sure why she felt relieved to see Calum. She wasn’t sure if she was more afraid of him, or the two men following her. At least, she didn’t think Calum would hurt her. Would he?

“What the hell are you doing, walking around this neighbourhood at night by yourself?” he demanded, pushing his hood back.

“I—” she started, but Parker had to admit she didn’t have a good reason. It had been stupid to leave the club alone. She should have waited inside for the cab. “I don’t know,” she confessed sheepishly. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“No shit,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. He turned back to the car. “Get in,” he commanded.

Parker looked behind her, but the two men were gone. She was relieved they had seemingly given up when they realized she wasn’t alone, but her heart was still pounding. Whether it was from her close call with them or being close to Calum, she didn’t know. She followed Calum to the car and opened the passenger door. The smell of leather and spice enveloped her when she sat down, and it was oddly comforting.

“What were you doing out there alone?” he repeated once they were in the car.

“I was out with my friend Jenna. I wanted to leave, but she didn’t, so I called a cab—but it never came so I just started walking,” she explained.

“You should know better,” Calum berated, irritated. “Where’s your place?” he asked shortly.

Parker told him her address. She briefly wondered if it was a good idea, him knowing where she lived, but it was too late now. He did just rescue me, she thought. If he wanted to hurt me, he would have left me alone in the street.

She leaned her head back against the headrest, closing her eyes as her drunken state overpowered her ability to stay awake.

Calum pulled the Charger onto Parker’s street and glanced sideways at the blonde passed out in his passenger seat.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered. He got out of the car, opening her door and scooping her easily into his arms. She didn’t stir, but he could feel her breath against the bare skin on his neck. It tickled his skin, giving him goosebumps. She smelled like alcohol, and there was a faint trace of a flowery perfume. He carried Parker up the stairs of the front porch, using her key to unlock the door and stepping inside. He was greeted by a little grey cat meowing at his feet. He followed Calum through the house as he fumbled his way in the dark in search of Parker’s bedroom. He took a guess when he found the only room with a bed, setting her gently down and pulling the duvet over her.

Calum lingered in the doorway for a moment, his eyes scanning over her face, staring at her parted lips and then glancing at the cat that had curled up in a ball on the pillow next to her. She looked peaceful, and she was really kind of beautiful when she wasn’t running her mouth.

He let himself out, locking the door behind him and dropping into his Charger.

What the fuck are you doing, Cal, he thought to himself. He started the engine and peeled away from the curb. He drove for a while, no specific destination in mind, when he found himself parked outside of Ashton’s house. Subconsciously, he must have known he needed to talk things out with someone.

• • • • • •

He knocked sharply on the door, waiting impatiently. A few moments later, a tired-looking Ashton opened it, shirtless and in blue basketball shorts, his black hair in disarray from recent sleep.

“Cal?” he mumbled groggily. “What’s wrong?”

Calum pushed past him, walking to the kitchen to get himself a drink.

“It’s the middle of the night, man,” Ashton groaned. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you.”

Ashton sighed in defeat, sinking down onto one of the barstools in his kitchen. Calum leaned against the island, downing his drink in one swallow.

“You were right. The other night, at the bar. The girl I was staring at.”

Ashton remained quiet, prompting him to continue. He couldn’t fathom why this couldn’t wait until the morning, but he didn’t tell Calum that.

“I think I have feelings for her. And I don’t know what the fuck to do about it. She drives me insane and she gets me so riled up that I lash out at her every time I see her, but when she’s not around, I can’t stop thinking about her. What the fuck is wrong with me?”

Ashton sighed, raking his hand through his messy hair. “Cut yourself some slack, Cal—this is new territory for you. There’s nothing wrong with you,” Ashton assured him.

“So why do I feel angry? Why do I keep trying to hurt her?”

“Maybe you’re just scared,” Ashton shrugged. “Opening up to someone puts you in a vulnerable position, and you don’t like losing control. You’re pushing her away ‘cause that’s all you’ve ever done, and maybe you’re angry because she’s making you feel unsteady.”

“Then how do I stop?” Calum questioned, feeling a little hopeless. Parker was kind, and gentle, and good, and Calum was none of those things—he didn’t deserve her. She was afraid of him—there was no way she was going to let her guard down around him after the way he’d treated her.

“You just have to let her in, man. You’ll never get a handle on your feelings if you don’t allow yourself to feel.”

» » » » » »

On Friday morning, Parker awoke with a hangover from hell. Her head felt like it had been split open, and her stomach was churning violently. She sat up, slowly, and noticed she was still in her clothes from the bar, minus her shoes. It was unlike her to collapse into bed without changing first. She checked her phone, several missed calls and texts from Jenna to make sure she got home safely. Then, the memories came flooding back to her. Calum brought her here. He must have tucked her into bed. He hates me—why would he do that? For the life of her, Parker could not figure him out.

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wolfieonatypewriter · 7 years

Text

Bayojeanne Week 6 - Jealousy

Word count: 3760

Summary: Bayonneta and Jeanne’s cat are at constant odds and who will get the upper hand?

A/N: Oh boy whats it like posting bayojeanne week things like, 2 months after the fact? A promise is a promise though so I am doing all of these. This one has a bit of a buy-in, it features Artemisa, their daughter from my other fic Barren Ground Blooms in Change (I guess you really only have to know it’s their kid, basically but feel free to read!)

Jeanne had loved horses once upon a time. Lovely horses, big horses, light and springy horses. If it had hooves, a bad temper and could be saddled she liked it.

With the advent of modern technology and shackles that didn’t allow for the sort of long term care of an animal, she had found herself replacing her beloved horses with the roaring charm of motorcycles.

Angel Slayer was a bike all on it’s own category, extensively modified and of course, with more magic running through it than a young witch. That being said, sometimes the real world needed more finesse than what equated to a Mad Max chase gone off rails and for the times she needed to look like Ms. D’Arc, mild mannered teacher, other bikes had to do.

Her most recent purchase was a big and bulky touring bike with all the bells and whistles, in an attractive blue and black. It was a...compromise to get Cereza to ride with her and not keep getting detoured for her to flirt at humans.

For her cool teacher Jeanne days she had her tremendously fast streetfighter, slinky and aggressive that went from 0 to 60 in a staggering 2.6 seconds. By all standards, her mortal made pride and joy.

Only had one caveat. The passenger riding position.

Especially if that passenger was seven whole feet of legs, ass and overflowing charisma.

To combat that, a sofa on two wheels was acquired and Jeanne couldn’t be happier. Umbra she was, true, but long travel with her streetfighter was like trying to eat angel flesh.

From her position on the curb, she gently buffed the gas tank while humming. It was a deliciously warm sunday and best of all, it was August which meant no kids to put up with (much as she loved them).

A raspy meow broke her peaceful groove and she set down the polish can and rag on the floor. A couple more faint sounds reached her and she followed it to the back of the alley.

“Little one, where are you?” She called in hopes the cat would keep on making noises.

The raspy meow intensified into a full blown distress call and Jeanne called forth her magic. She looked for any energy signature that could correspond to a cat and she found the source of the meow.

A drain grid had collapsed and a young cat was staring up at her, trying to climb the walls and constantly slipping. It was not yet an adult but no longer a small kitten either.

“ Oh no, I sure hope you’re not hurt.” She leaned down and reached into the maintenance shaft, dirtying up her work jeans and tank top beyond further usability.

Cat securely in her arms, she gave them a cursory inspection which revealed a he. He was skinny and was shivering harshly in her arms which made her worry intensify. Poor darling had to have been stuck for a considerable amount of time, if the dirt and mud on his cream and black fur was anything to go by.

“We’ll get you home, all cleaned up and maybe fed. How's that?”

Her only response was a little dust mote snuggling closer to her.

“Cereza, we have a guest today!”

Bayonetta poked her head back into the kitchen from the pool patio outside and gave her a puzzled look. “ A guest? I doubt you picked up Luka out of the goodness of your heart, darling so who do we have?”

Out of the two of them, she was much more likely to invite other people over for tea or something of the sort whilst Jeanne preferred to go out with her other friends.

“I found a dapper young gentleman in some dire straits on the Bettencourt’s ridiculous drain grid and plucked him from his predicament.” Said gentleman purred gently, eyes closing occasionally in clear exhaustion. “ I went in with him to Dr.Carter and she said he just needed some TLC. Not chipped either, a shame.”

“A cat? An actual cat?” Cereza crossed the threshold proper and looked at the muddy ball of fur in her arms. “Poor thing… Come on then, if we managed transdimentional toddler versions of ourselves, I’m sure he'll be in the best hands.”

Famous last words

His human was just the sweetest and incredibly well trained (if he could say so himself) but she wasn't the sharpest claw in the paw.

She kept willingly walking into the water spouting death trap, especially with the annoying one.

Did she not know that having no scent profile was *dangerous*? He thought he had broken her out of that habit with the departure of the other one but that had proven to be just temporary.

What if she went outside only wafting the pungent fragrances humans had, any other cat would not know who she belonged to.

They could even have the gall to approach and rub on her legs! It was a situation he could not stand for.

He trotted to the location of the watering hole, she had been there long enough and he had to improve her habits.

The annoying one noticed him first from her relatively higher position on the turbulent pond. The mating procedures, adorably goofy as they were among humans ( they didn't even rub facial fur), were well underway and she narrowed his eyes at him.

“Jeanne, you keep not closing the door and now the dust mote is here to cockblock again.”

He meowed, loud and articulate as he would to unruly kittens and got up on his legs to look at his human. They didn't understand much of their nuances so he had to employ baby talk.

“Heya Golem, what do you need hmm?” She rose up to lay her hand on his head and he stretched as best he could to meet it.

He purred and rubbed his head on her wet hand, getting it scratched by soft nails. “My treasure, did you just want some attention?”

Her colony mate ( who more often than not, stole his human’s attention) sighed and got up abruptly, spilling water over his immaculate and well groomed coat.

His angry yowl did nothing to faze her. This was why she was the annoying one.

“Just so you know, it's weird that you baby speak in french to the diminutive Auditio of Chastity"

He ran between her legs while she was trying to find a towel and swiped at her feet. As she turned to curse at him for clawing at her ankles, he was encased in a fluffy towel himself and lifted off the floor.

“My heart, don't be so mean to Cereza. She's just grumpy I’m giving you attention” His human had saved the annoying one from swift and brutal discipline but he found it hard to be mad when she was rubbing his now messy fur.

Snuggling into his human, he purred his agreement.

The sun on the outside was luxurious and he basked in it for the better part of the afternoon, as it was proper.

He was about to turn for the fifth and final time when the door opened with a near silent woosh that he was highly attuned to.

Oh, his human had to be home! Bolting upright, he meowed in her direction so she knew he was there.

The inside was pleasantly cool and he purred expecting to be greeted in the grabby manner humans usually did but no one came forward.

He sniffed the air, trying to figure out who could be in the colony but it revealed nothing but dust and their wafting herbal scents that lingered around the enclosed space.

When his cursory survey was finished, he was about to take a turn to bite his food when a low rumble sounded from somewhere he couldn't pinpoint.

Assailants! Intruders! His human could be in danger!

He arched his back and hissed in the general direction of the noise. The rumble increased in intensity and darted around everywhere.

Hissing as loud as he could, he held on steadfast under the onslaught of noise.

His bravery held out until the very moment a gargantuan beast landed in front of him and roared with all it's teeth.

It wasn't his most dignified moment, the jump up to the top of the tall fridge but he was clearly outmatched and hoped beyond hope his dear human would not be harmed.

“Cereza! Don't scare Golem like that!” His human was defending him from the beast and he marveled at the ingenuity and heart she had. “Oh little one, come here she cannot harm you”

He was scooped from the fridge, heart thundering and fur sticking all over the place and as the assailant bled into the annoying one, he snuggled into the warm bosom in a huff.

A cat of his status always chose to ignore the mocking noises humans made but he felt a smug satisfaction (something humans seemed to always do) at the scolding his human was giving her colony mate.

What better place to be, than purring away on a soft chest.

Bayonetta had a feeling...

No!

She was absolutely sure the young idiot Jeanne had picked up from the street about two months ago kept trying to sabotage her.

Why else would he monopolize Jeanne's attention? He was jealous, so *jealous* that she was there first.

Was she too proud to admit she was badly losing a war of wits to an obnoxiously adorable Siamese knockoff? Yes, definitely she was.

Golem was the featherless embodiment of Castitas, of that she was more than sure. Why else would he demand attention at the most idiotic of times?!

If she got home and Jeanne was already relaxing after a long day, usually by sitting on the seat that got most of the afternoon sun, she could well forget getting any sort of affection the little butt wouldn't oppose to.

Oh and Jeanne just coddled him to hell and back, softly murmuring to him in French and making fun of her for getting mad at a young adult cat.

His smug be-whiskered snout was highly unbearable.

She got him good right back ( oh the illusion charm over the pool board had been a riot even if Jeanne had yanked her ears for it) but invariably, her lover always sided with him and what was he good for? Shedding and being Lord Demandypants, that's what.

Part of her wanted to get an even more obnoxious pet just to annoy the living crap out of the discount-store siamese but there was a chance they would ally against her sex life and that wouldn't do.

“Jeanne?” She asked, her exasperation hitting an unprecedented, never before seen level.

“Yes?” She replied with a brush in hand, not even looking her way as the idiot purred and kneaded their (fucking) expensive duvet.

“Not to make this awkward but I was trying to seduce you, oh I don't know, a minute ago?” With a big measure of success too, her mistake had been to exit the room for a hot second to fetch the harness from the pool lounge.

Time the Cardinal Virtue Of Chastity had used to slink into the room and enthrall her previously very willing partner.

“It will literally just take a minute, Cereza. Last I heard, silicone erections lasted a long time.” The appreciative inspection Jeanne cast her way was the only thing that saved Golem from having a nasty encounter with her beast within.

“I promise I'll even put my darling little cream puff in quiet time.”

Bayonetta tossed her arms up in defeat and stood there awkwardly holding a dildo aloft with her crotch. “Fine but I expect compensation!”

Didn't save the furry brat from having his food eaten right in front of his face from her cat form but that, she kept to herself.

The littlest one was perhaps the greatest delight of his life. She was remarkably young, as humans measured things, and she was just now starting to realize her own strength.

Her ever increasing life skills usually came at the expense of his tail or ears. She was strong, far stronger than she looked but he was making good progress in teaching her manners.

Well, it was a struggle for her to not slobber on his tail but it was endearing. His human’s cub had been contributed by the annoying one but so far, that had yet to show, a fact that pleased him even further.

Said little one was sleeping on the other end of the crib like a kitten while he kept guard on the fluffy pillow nearby. She was hard pressed to do so and was about as nocturnal as a bat and he saw no end of her parents shuffling into the nesting room looking like shambling dogs in the middle of the night.

The late summer breeze wafted in from the open windows and he purred at the coolness of it on his face when whatever was pinned on them fell with a loud smash.

A low whimper started from the human kitten, most likely disturbed by the crashing object. Human made things were always so fragile. He snapped to high alert, inching closer to the little human and giving her hair some gentle grooming.

She quietened down and he nuzzled her soft head in reward, purring all the while which earned him an interested gurgle.

They were both about to settle down again when an odd light burst forth from the window. The little one snapped in its direction and she sniffled again.

He started grooming the fine human fur once more when the jangle of metal sounded on the ledge and he lifted his head.

A red beast cooed and twisted it's grotesque head like a toothy pigeon, hopping into the room with a curious spring to its step.

He growled loudly at the approaching intruder, daring it to come and further but it paid him no mind. His small kitten was crying in earnest as the metallic jangle sounded closer to the nest.

Too close.

Golem was a cat that knew a serious threat when he saw one. He had to protect his humans, had to keep them safe.

Yowling as loud as he could and puffing out his fur, he positioned himself with his ears pinned back between the little one and whatever mangled predator was in front of him.

It glanced in his direction at the noise but was undaunted in its path, leaving large burnt gauges on the floor.

With a massive paw, the thing was going to try to knock down the nest but Golem wasn't about to allow that.

With a decisive jump, he attacked the ugly dog thing with all his bravery.

Bayonetta heard her little girl cry and Golem making his usual mess of things, which had her reluctantly waking up.

Jeanne was out fulfilling her obligations as a witch, after all the ever present clock of their infernal fate never stopped ticking.

Umbra she was, the dark night and all that but she was also half Lumen and nothing quite replaced the sun. Plus all the cutest mommy and me videos did not adequately prepare anyone for the event of shoving the littlest Umbra from a narrow pelvic canal.

A bright, heavenly light spilled the door to the nursery and her eyes snapped fully open, tiredness fully banished and she bolted into a full sprint.

As she yanked open the door, the Fairness was in the process of striking a flaming paw on the aggressively strong ward. A purple shimmer materialized into existence that rebuffed the Dominion back with a strong shove.

Most surprisingly, Golem had jumped quite literally to Artemisa’s rescue in a daring flight of courage. He had landed on the big head and scratched and bit at the staggered angel, making them shake their head.

Before she could do some real damage, the draconic angel bit on the young cats arm and tossed him to the ground. Oh, now they'd done it!

With several well placed summons and a harsh volley of bullets, they fell down into a mess of halos and angel bits she'd have to clean up. All in all, not too many damages to the nursery that they'd have to make up some random story to a contractor to fix it.

She knew Artemisa was safe albeit in a very, very bad mood but Golem had taken a hard hit trying to protect his charge. Her heart clenched at his arm injury, the bite deep and ugly.

“Come now, oh principality of courage. We'll tell Wes you got into a fight with a really big dog.” She scooped him up as gently as she was able and he meowed in distress in Artemisa’s direction. Bayonetta had to admit it took massive courage to stand up to a second sphere angel and even after getting beaten up, he tried to make sure the little one was safe.

Fortunately Dr.Carter did house calls and double fortunately, Jeanne would only hear about it when it was resolved. The cellphone conversation about this would not be easy.

The good doctor was baffled at his injuries and was going to take him to the practice for a closer look. She had to do x-rays but his soft tissue damage looked worse than what it was and she was able to stitch him up on site.

As Dr.Carter set him in the carrier, she looked at him straight in his good looking blue eyes and nodded.

Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

"How many expensive cashmere pillows draped with Merino wool does a cat need?" Bayonetta wondered for the fifth time that week, as her most beloved kept piling on finery beneath the obnoxious albeit very daringly brave Walmart brand feline.

The answer right now was on 4 and she had to guess it wasn't the last she heard of it.

To Jeanne, he was the most lionhearted of beings on the planet and she nearly cried three times in Dr. Carter's office even though she assured her it was just a ding and nothing a little plaster and bandages wouldn't fix.

Showing her the clearly only hairline fractured arm on the X-ray had prompted a stricken but still very stoic pair of glistening eyes and even the good doctor was looking at Bayonetta with something that was bordering on panic.

Had he stayed overnight to be observed? Yes. Had Jeanne slept a singular wink? Of course she hadn't

He returned home the next day a little sluggish from his fashionable fentanyl patch but bright eyed and vivaciously blabby, a cute vet wrap bandage in a shocking bright pink and ruby red encasing his arm. Wes had mumbled something about the vet wrap matching her riding gear with a colour to her cheeks Bayonetta had ticked as a blush.

And now there they were, the unbearably smug cat, the little human on her front sling and herself, fielding status report calls every hour from one very worried witch. Her classes had to be going swimmingly that day.

All in all, she couldn't complain. He was willing to risk life and limb for her daughter and... They had reached a sort of understanding.

She reached over into the crib where he and his mountain of pillows currently resided and scritched his chin.

Huh, maybe he really wasn't all that bad after all.

( Maybe she could get Luka to toss himself in front of an Applause and Jeanne would make peace with him as well)

#Bayonetta #bayojeanne #Bayojeanne week #bayojeanneweek #Bayonetta x Jeanne

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