#and don’t think the other hot pig is off the hook either! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

skellebonez · 3 years

Note

Prompt 76, MK accidentally lets it slip to Pigsy that Monkey and Macaque are “seeing each other” as in not quite dating but been on a few “dates”...again. Pigsy who is on a low profile and hasn’t told MO who he really is, let’s it slip how he thinks “his eldest brother can do better” and MK is very confused.

Feel free to ignore!!!!! I’ve never asked for something like this before and if I did it wrong feel free to ignore it!

I may or may not have a soft spot for protective younger sibling type scenes in media so I had way too much fun writing this.

It could be worse. They could be dating. Wait? They are?!

"I don't understand what that damn monkey is thinking half the time," Pigsy said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his snout with a groan. "Just... let Macaque on the ship, yeah, that totally isn't going to backfire. Not like he has ulterior motives at all, not like we just learned all the stuff he pulled over the last year including trapping three of us in a lantern to fight you and teach you some kind of lesson.”

Things had been tense on the drone ship for the last month. They’d barely begun on their journey before a certain immortal monkey managed to catch them off guard and chase them for multiple days under the White Bone Spirit’s influence.

It became apparent very quickly that she was using him to toy with them, a sort of gloating in her victory. Well, joke was on her. Sending him after them meant they were able to see just how far her influence and control actually reached and they were able to find a way to free him from that with more than a little force and some stolen artifacts.

The fact she hadn’t sent anyone else, however, was... concerning to say the least. If she wasn’t worried about losing her grip on Macaque, of all people, that did not bode well for them.

But for the moment that was neither here nor there. What mattered in the moment was that in the month since the immortal monkey had managed to be dragged onto their ship to recuperate Wukong had become far too comfortable with letting him have free reign over whatever he wanted to do on the ship (within reason).

And Pigsy didn’t like that. Aforementioned soul trapping in a lantern and trying to turn MK against his teacher and all that. Pigsy didn’t trust Six-Eared Macaque as far as he could throw him.

"It's been a month and nothing's happened yet?" MK offered not so helpfully, shrugging with an awkward nervous chuckle. “I mean... unless he’s playing a really long game he’d probably have done something by now, right?”

"Well... It could be worse," Pigsy admitted with a chuckle as he stretched out and started to cut up the ingredients for his lunch dish. "They could be dating."

MK made an awkward choking sound as he inhaled his water.

"Wait...?" Pigsy turned around slowly, leveling the young man with a half glare. He stared for a moment, watching as MK refused to meet his gaze. Looking left and right and literally anywhere not at Pigsy’s face. "THEY ARE!?"

"I didn't tell you!" MK shouted, jumping up and hiding behind the table and pointing at Pigsy dramatically. "I said nothing, you cannot pin this on me!"

"YOU KNEW AND YOU KEPT IT A SECRET!?" Pigsy yelped, tone not angry but loud enough to make MK freeze with wide worried eyes. The chef stopped, sighing again as he took in a calming breathe before continuing. "Ok... ok... MK, I ain't mad, being mad at you would be ridiculous. But exactly how long have you known?"

MK frowned, looking up at the ceiling in thought before a tentative but curious look passed over his face.

"...I can neither confirm nor deny that I caught them smooching in the med bay two weeks ago."

"TWO WEEKS!?"

“You didn’t hear it from me!” MK said, pointing at himself as he backed away with another nervous laugh. “I have plausible deniability, you figured it out on your own!”

“Of all the hard headed thick skulled bad decisions that stupid-” Pigsy mumbled to himself, burying his face in his hands as he held back a scream of frustration. “There are so many men. So many men! So many ex-enemies even! But no, he had to go and hook up with his actual ex that tried to take over his identity and kill his entire travel party!”

“To be fair he kinda seems to be changing for the be-wait...?” MK started to offer, watching at the chef paced around the kitchen. “How... do you know they used to date? I don’t think even Tang knows that.”

“He could have dated literally anyone else and he chose to get back with Macaque,” Pigsy said with another sigh, removing his hands from his face with a scowl. “I knew he was dense but elder brother can do so much better.”

“I’M. SORRY?” MK yelled, this time being the one to startle the other. “ELDER. BROTHER?”

Pigsy froze, eyes wide in horrified realization. “... you didn’t hear that.”

Pigsy ran out of the room, MK hot on his heels.

“PIGSY COME BACK YOU NEED TO EXPLAIN AND NOT MAKE RASH DECISIONS!”

Pigsy did not go back to the kitchen, instead heading straight to the rec room that he knew the two monkeys were spending most of their recent time in when not off alone who knows where (now he knows where). MK was following right behind, trying to both get an explanation out of him and to dissuade him from confronting the Monkey King and also looking generally very confused and concerned.

He didn’t succeed before the pig demon slammed the rec room door open.

"WUKONG!" Pigsy shouted from the doorway, startling the two immortal monkeys from whatever conversation they were engrossed in . "You. Me. Deck. Now."

"I-"

"NOW. ELDER BROTHER."

The facial journey through confusion to realization to horror on Sun Wukong's face was worth the delayed reaction shout of "WHAT DO YOU MEAN ELDER BROTHER!?" from the other immortal sitting next to the Monkey King.

“BAJIE!?” Wukong yelped.

“YOU’RE ZHU BAJIE!?” MK yelped in much the same tone.

“Oh fuck,” Macaque whispered under his breath.

“DECK!” Pigsy repeated.

“BAJIE WHAT THE FUCK!?” Wukong repeated himself.

“ZHU BAJIE!?” MK also repeated.

“How many other enemies did I piss off that are on this ship?” Macaque continued, seemingly resigned to his fate.

“YES I’M BAJIE STOP YELLING MY OWN NAME AT ME!”

Needless to say that conversation was the most incoherent non-productive mess they had on the ship in the last month. Until Sandy burst into the room and forced them all to talk it out peacefully.

Macaque did, in fact, learn how many old enemies he had on the ship when Sandy came clean that he was also Sha Wujing.

And Pigsy did not, in fact, manage to talk any sense into his elder brother given how much MK was yelling at him for keeping his identity a secret from him.

Wukong just sat with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands wondering what in the actual hell his life had become.

(The next day, after a night of rest and a day talking to MK and apologizing and explaining everything, Pigsy caught the two immortal monkeys asleep cuddled on the couch of the rec room and decided that his elder brother could make his own decisions. And maybe MK had a point, given Macaque hadn’t done anything. Yet.

If he pulled a blanket over the two of them while they rested and they noticed no one said anything about it. And if Macaque snuck off the ship and there were, coincidentally, some rare ingredients for some dishes Pigsy missed making and a few scrapes and bruises on the immortal when he resurfaced... well, he didn’t say anything either. But he made it a point to have more mangoes and plums on hand.

Just in case.)

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #fanfic #ship fic #gen fic #pigsy #mk #Qi Xiaotian #sun wukong #monkey king #six eared macaque #shadowpeach #once again i think the highest form of comedy is YELLING AND CONFUSION and i don't know why

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real-fanta-sea · 3 years

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Hello!!💚😊 do you still write kiss requests?? For Trevor/Mike ship and can I request something for 'bury the hatchet' mission with 11 or 57 number? I really love to see how Trevor saves Michael so😍😱

Thank you!💗

Hi sweetie! I'm sorry it took me so long, but it's finally here! Find it under "keep reading". If you prefer AO3, click here to read the fic. tw mentions of violence, kissing, kinky old men

"Get the boyfriend!"

"The WHAT?" Michael huffed out, along with a small puff of fog, as he crouched behind a thumb stone that felt too small to shield him. Of all things, why would they think they were dating? Like, that were the signs? Can't two guys share a trailer, a bed, a shower, a coffee mug, cigarettes, whiskey bottles and take-out receipts without arising suspicion? Can't two consenting adults watch each other read a porn magazine while relieving stress? Is it a sign of marital status to carry someone over a threshold while high on... whatever was Trevor high on? Michael cringed inwardly as a bullet grazed the top of the stone and made the falling snowflakes find refuge on the back of his neck. There was no time to mull that over. The crunch of footsteps and angry commands closed in, and he had to act fast.

He did the math frantically. His pistol still had 16 bullets ready to be planted into the brains of whoever he aimed at. There was another full magazine in his jacket pocket. Good. Michael peered above the top of the stone, now chipped into a monstrous row of teeth. The silence has been ruptured by the sound of breaks. Judging by the urgent stomping, there were far more than 33 men to bury that night. Michael ducked and ran towards a statue of an angel reclining over another piece of stone, big enough to hide him under its sorrowful wings. Finally able to stretch out, he took a deep breath and cracked his neck. He remembered the last time he had to fight off so many people and cursed when he shot a look back towards Brad's grave. At that time, there was no blanket and a cup of hot coffee waiting for him. At that time, dance macabre was all too real for comfort. But it was not a time to die; he convinced himself. Not in the freezy shithole called North Yankton. Not without a fight.

Just when he peered over the side of the sculpture, the world around him slowed down into a strange state of blue trance. He shot four men in a matter of seconds, retreated to his cover, and resurfaced again behind a different piece of stone. All he could feel was a stinging sensation on his face as he collapsed with snowflakes, a soft crunch of virgin snow below his feet mixed with the recoil of the gun in his hand, going off in time with the rhythm of his heart. He wouldn't have minded if the state of focus and tranquillity remained his primary state of being. To be faster than others, not feeling the bullets licking skin and flesh off of his body, killing without remorse - he missed such balance in his retired life.

Not many voices filled the graveyard when Michael finally threw his pistol away and snatched a gun from a random unlucky henchman whose blood was rapidly cooling on the ground. The relative silence unnerved him. The math didn't add up, and even when he cracked his neck again to relieve some of the pressure, the popping sound didn't fill the space enough to be comfortable again. Only when he ascended from the aisle, ducking, eyes darting all over the dark place, he noticed how fast he was breathing and that his hands were shaking.

Fuck it, he thought to himself, that one extra burger, coke and pizza every now and then, when he couldn't sleep, did hurt after all. Maybe Mandy was right to nag at him for smoking too. Before he could make an oath to himself to start exercising once he got away from the situation. Before he could even turn around in awe, the bushes behind his back rustled and gave birth to a furious Chinese man. The newborn didn't spare a second to hit the back of Michael's head with something Mike later identified as the butt of his gun and knocked the dumbfounded Michael unconscious.

It didn't take long for Michael to wake up, but the world was swirling around him into a smudged black-eye blue mush, and it reeked of puke. There was a horrible echo of voices nagging in his throbbing head, and it took a lot of him to recognize two twitching shadows dragging him through the muddy snow. For a split second, he felt weightless as the shadows threw him inside a gaping black space and the thunder of the van door being shut made him shriek in pain.

For what felt like an eternity, his existence was reduced to watching a streak of orange light running towards his chest and vanishing before it reached his head. Michael scrutinized the small cut out in the wall that divided his dark cell and the cockpit of the van and marvelled at the sounds emerging with every blink of the orange light. The slight rocking of the vehicle only served to make him more nauseated in between his scattered thoughts. Why haven't they killed him was among the first coherent questions his brain was capable of producing. Why would they want him alive? The light blinked away rapidly and brought about the noise of radio static and two voices fighting over what frequency to tune in. Get the boyfriend. Why was the question coming back then?

Michael groaned as the deafening sound of Channel X pinned him to the ground again. Boyfriend. He recognized the music. He remembered. They thought Trevor would pay whatever price they demanded in exchange for his safety. A bitter chuckle escaped his lips, and he didn't try to stop it for a change. How they could still think that after witnessing their bickering at Brad's grave, Michael wasn't entirely sure. What he knew with paralyzing certainty was that no one was coming to save him, and it was Trevor's fault. In between the blinks of light and throbbing pain, his memories ran back to the moment Brad unknowingly shielded Trevor as it often did in the past ten years and wished once again Dave either pulled the trigger a second later or aimed for Michael's head.

He didn't know whether to be annoyed or thankful when screeching breaks interrupted his daydreaming session. Judging by the high-pitched angry Chinese, they either had some very unfortunate flat tyre, or they ran into trouble. Or, which was something Michael didn't want to think about, they arrived at their lair and discussed the best way to make a chop suey from his guts. He shifted slightly, shaking off the inappropriate thoughts his mind offered him. It did him no good to think about alternate universes where all his problems were gone, and he was roasting under Los Santos sun by his pool.

The sliding door opened, and Michael was immediately hit into the face with a sluggish white light and smell of iron. Just one glance at the tiles plastered all over the walls, hooks idly clinging in the draft, and he knew exactly where they were. A shiny tray with a handsaw grinned right back at him from the centre of silhouettes of men. Oh god, he was so screwed. So fucked over. He made a mental note to kick Trevor in the balls when... IF... he sees him again. A pair of hands grabbed his ankles and pulled him out of the car, his head bouncing off the ground when it hit ice-cold concrete. Michael shivered. Was it really all there was for him? Would the famous Michael Townley, the phantom of the north, end up minced into Flormart burgers? A curse escaped his lips when he imagined the limp, tasteless slice of pickle and an unnaturally orange slice of cheese tiredly melting on his flesh in someone's microwave. He could withstand any torture but that.

"Hey you, you are awake, aren't you?"

Michael winced inwardly and squinted his eyes against the bright light. "Oh, am I? I didn't know! Are you a doctor or something?"

There was a prompt leathern shoe planted into his face. Michael hissed upon contact, the smell of cheap shoe glue imprinting into his memory. So much for a well-meant, friendly sarcasm.

"Ok, I got it. I'll shut up."

"You better should, pig!" There were several snorts around him, obscured by the bright light. Michael's cheek throbbed. If he was a pig about to be made into bacon strips, he swore to take them with him. The guy who kicked him circled around like a shark.

"Now, tell me. Where does your boyfriend keep the drugs?"

Michael just snickered and shrugged as best as his tied arms allowed. The shadows stepped closer, towering above him. He felt another kick; this time, the shoe bit into his ribs, making him hiss.

"ANSWER!"

A pair of hands yanked him onto his knees. The floor crushed into them, a painful reminder he should have picked up yoga when his wife told him so.

"I DON'T KNOW!"

The sole of the shoe pushed into the middle of his back, stretching his muscles to their capacity. Michael's forehead was pearled with sweat. He could barely breathe. Any further, and he was sure he would throw up.

"Do you think we are stupid?"

The pressure worsened. Michael gasped for air.

"We've seen him carry you over the threshold, and we know from a reliable source you share the bed with him,"

A picture of Ron shaking in the middle of a hostile office, surrounded by the same shadows, flashed through Michael's mind before he blinked it away. Another mental note was taken. Kick Ron's balls right after kicking Trevor's.

"AND YOU HAVE THE NERVE TO CLAIM YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHERE HE KEEPS HIS ASSETS WHEN WE KNOW YOU SQUAT ON HIS DICK EVERY NIGHT???"

"Believe it or not," Michael gasped and tried to turn just enough to look the bastard who stepped on him in the eye, "I don't know anything. Oh, and it's not me who squats; I am more of the top kind of guy."

It occurred to Michael the Chinese guy who led the interrogation had a strange sense of symmetry because before he knew it, he had another pulsating bruise spread over the other side of his ribs. He wanted to think the remark was worth it, even though his body told him otherwise.

"Hang that fag on a hook - let's see if he remembers with more blood in his brain."

For a second, Michael panicked. There were too many hands grabbing and groping him, turning him, and he remembered how he, as a little boy watched spiders do just that with flies in their webs, both horrified and fascinated. He has always considered himself a spider in such situations. Oh, how the turntables! He now was the fly, and the spider was walking away.

"HEY, WAIT!"

The hands kept him floating in the air, and the man stopped in his path, turning around.

"Hm? What is it?"

Michael's eyes rounded, even though he desperately tried to fight the trepidation. "You are terribly wrong about this. I am not his boyfriend, just an acquaintance. I have no idea how you guys are affiliated, but whatever this is about, it all runs down to money, right?"

The man folded his arms on his chest slowly, visibly taking pride in Michael's panic, but his thin lips kept shut.

"I'll pay you if you release me. Generous money, actually. That's what you guys want, right? That's what everybody wants."

The man took a few steps closer, right under one of the beaming tube lights. Michael gulped when he saw the grin on his handsome face. It took him a surprisingly low effort to come close to Michael and grab his jaw in a vice grip.

"Have your whining ever worked on anyone?"

Michael shook his head ever so slightly. He got a shark-like grin in response.

"What we want is to know where your lover, Trevor Phillips, keeps his merchandise and take what is contractually, thus rightfully ours. Tell us, and maybe we will let you go."

His eyes were as black as Trevor's when Michael last saw them, yet there was no shadow of affection in these. The man who looked at him was by all means already dead inside. The hand slipped away from his jaw, but Michael could still feel where his new friend left purple imprints.

"I thought so. Never mind, after the night spent upside down, I hope your point of view will change. HANG HIM!"

All of a sudden, there was a roar of an engine from somewhere above. Michael tried to locate the sound, but it glided away, much to his captors' disdain. There was a cacophony of stomping and foreign words bouncing off the walls, mixing in with the cry of sliding door and hum of the engine coming back.

"HEY!"

His voice was too weak against the noise. No one noticed him twitching; no one cared he was still there.

"HEY, MOTHERFUCKERS, WHAT'S GOING ON!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" was the answer from one of the men, along with a sting of a gunstock on his eye. Michael didn't need answers anymore, though, as the barking of shots and cries of mowed down men crept through the open door. Not so silently, he cursed Trevor for dragging him right into the middle of mafia wars, something he had no desire to see up close. Leaving him in the graveyard alone with a mob? One kick in the balls. Letting them kidnap him and hang him like a piece of ham? Two kicks in the balls. Letting the mafia kill him in a shoot out? Thousands of years of haunting Trevor and another kick in the balls as soon as they both reincarnate. Gunshots from outside closed in on him.

Michael tried to break free from the ropes but only managed to swing back and forth.

"Oh FUCK, I'm going to KILL HIM! YOU'RE SO DEAD, TREVOR!"

"MICHAEL!"

At first, Michael thought he was hearing things. In his state of panic, his brain couldn't get a grip of how the hell Trevor knew where to find him, let alone come and rescue him after he almost shot him. Then he thought that some kind of vessel must have busted in his head, for the familiar voice was accompanied by an even more familiar tall outline topped by a crown of ruffled dark brown hair. He couldn't help but blink rapidly a couple of times, dumbfounded in the middle of the slaughterhouse.

"JESUS, MIKEY!!!"

There were rushed steps, a sound of a gun falling to the ground, followed by two trembling hands cupping his face. Michael closed his eyes and relied on other senses to confirm his suspicion. First, there was a smell of late-night coffees, morning cigarettes, diesel fuel and cheap soap he bought for Trevor not so long ago. Second, there were two big hands, fingers brushing around the edges of his bruises in a way they did years ago when they both were different people, but somehow they did remember how to soothe him. Third, there was a deep-set voice trembling with worry whispering his name. And finally, when Michael opened his eyes again, there were the amber eyes, glazed, terrified and hurt. There was no doubt anymore. Trevor came back for him.

"Oh god, I was so fucking afraid!"

Michael couldn't keep angry when faced with the first shy tears welling in Trevor's eyes, but his ability to speak left him as they fell down and disappeared into the blackness of Trevor's shirt. So instead, he let Trevor's hands caress him, oddly at peace with the gentle touch on his face.

"To think I almost lost you again!" Trevor bit his lip. Something about the droplet of blood blooming under his teeth left Michael breathless. "I was so angry, infuriated much, yes, but then I imagined you laying there with Brad and..."

Trevor gazed into Michael's eyes with such urgency it immediately reminded him of their first kill. The fear mixed in with the red gleam in his eyes, the sense of irreparable, coming back from the past to haunt them. Lost in thought, Michael didn't register the swift movement right in front of him and was caught by surprise by a feeling of having his lips pressed against Trevor's.

They were hot, trembling, and tasted of cigarettes and blood, a mixture Michael desperately tried to forget about. Where they first gently touched his, as if they couldn't believe he was still alive and well, they pressed harder in mere seconds, making Michael's eyes flutter shut. It was difficult for him to admit, but Trevor's lips were the only drug Michael craved for long and lonely ten years. For once, he let his nagging reason get hushed by the shy movement of Trevor's lips, and all the hatred slipped his mind momentarily.

At length, Trevor broke the kiss, and still holding onto Michael's cheeks, he gently propped his forehead against Michael's. Michael let him take a break, listening to his shallow breathing, and their thoughts were buzzing almost audibly where their skin touched.

"Oh god, to think I almost lost you..."

"It's ok, T; I'm still hanging on."

"Yeah, but what if I didn't turn around and follow that convoy? What if they killed you?"

"You could say I would hang around for a bit, and then they would kick me out."

Trevor raised his head and furrowed a bit. "What's that with you and emphasize on hanging?"

Michael raised eyebrows at him and waited till the realization would dawn on Trevor. It took three seconds for Trevor's eyes to round and his mouth to form a perfect 'o'.

"Oh, yeah, uh, I see. Wait a moment, sugar."

Michael's feelings on Trevor holding a knife were usually on the border between panic and deep fucking rooted urge to run for the hills. When Trevor approached him and swung it around his face, Michael was momentarily inclined to the second option, twitching nervously under the cold gleam of the knife. Trevor eyed him with palpable exhaustion.

"Stop wiggling goddammit, do you want to get cut?"

Michael pouted at him.

"Hey, don't give me THAT face, pork chop! It wasn't MY idea to tie you up and hook you here!"

Trevor's knife slowly cut through ropes, murmuring as it bit through thick threads. The very tip brushed against Michael's leg, leaving goosebumps in the wake of its cold touch.

"But I have to say this is kinda hot, eh?" Trevor's grin was back, the brightest light in the room. "How about we try it again when we get back home?"

"What the FUCK are you talking about, Trevor?"

Trevor leant in, still grinning, his knife gliding against Michael's waist.

"I mean, I will send Patricia shopping,"

The knife dipped lower, slipping under Michael's shirt. He gasped, inwardly cursing for giving Trevor the tiniest bit of gratification.

"then I'll take some nice silk rope,"

The dull side of the blade ran through chest hair lush between trembling peaks of his nipples.

"tie you up and make some sweet, sweet love to you, cupcake!"

Trevor's lips were so close, his breath on Michael's lips again, who was petrified with anticipation. His heart hammered against the patch of goosebumps on his chest, and if the last bit of rope didn't snap and let him slide off the hook, Michael would have leaned in himself and stole that kiss. But, instead of the sweet release, he was sent to the cold ground head first, folding like a rag doll upon impact.

Not only Michael sustained another hit on his head, swearing and kicking around, not unlike the turtle Amanda bought for the kids and that he and Jimmy used to torture by putting it on its back, laughing about the way it tried to turn over, but it was Trevor who was laughing his lungs out, folded in half. Michael tried to stab him with a menacing glare, but it didn't help in the slightest. Gathering the last shred of strength, Michael scraped to his feet and balling fists full of Trevor's jacket, he threw them both against deadly green tiles.

Trevor's laugh died out soon after the impact, but the grin remained despite Michael pinning him down. At first, Michael's intention was to beat him up, partially to let the frustration out, partially to get revenge for the stolen kiss, but he was taken aback when Trevor's hands closed over his fists and squeezed gently.

"Whatcha gonna do, Mikey?" Trevor uttered in an irresistibly husky voice that sent shivers of excitement to all the wrong places, "Beat me for saving your life?" Michael growled.

"You fucking..." but the words he wanted to say got sucked back into the vortex of emotion running free in his ribcage. No, beating wasn't what Michael's mind supplied him with when it came to what to do with Trevor. He could barely resist the vivid pictures of Trevor, hair running down his slender back, undressing in front of him, leaving marks on his neck and long scratches speaking volumes about how Michael liked to celebrate their victories. And then, on that day, Trevor was there. Older, but just as tempting, daring, enclosing Michael in the smell of both freedom and slavery with each exhale. Michael took a deep breath. He couldn't help but give in to the craving.

Trevor yelped when Michael crashed his lips with his so hard their teeth clinked together. That was the thrill he wanted to relive, and as soon as Trevor's hands rested against his lower back, pulling him closer, Michael surged deeper and dared to brush his tongue against Trevor's. The choked moan he managed to draw out fueled his fingers in their haste, letting go of fabric and instead bury themselves into Trevor's hair, pulling him closer. Trevor's skin could have combusted any second with the heat it emitted, and Michael couldn't resist yanking him closer, eager to get burned once again.

"Mikey... Jesus Christ!"

Trevor could barely breathe, so much Michael could tell by the heaving of chest caught between the wall and his own body. He was proud of the trembling in Trevor's touch, of shallow breaths and flushed cheeks right in front of him. He still got it.

"What?" Michael grinned impishly and let one of his hands slide down Trevor's back and squeeze him. Trevor yelped in surprise but didn't try to wriggle out of the embrace and even giggled when Michael let his hand rest there. Trevor leaned in closer, his breath sending shivers down Michael's spine as it touched his ear.

"Let's go home, cupcake."

#trikey #gta 5 #trevor philips #michael de santa #real_fanta_sea.fic #kiss prompts

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lilydalexf · 3 years

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Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with MustangSally

MustangSally has 33 stories at Gossamer. Even if you haven’t read it, you’ve probably heard of at least one of them, Iolokus, since it’s an X-Files fanfic classic. All her fics hit big and are well worth your time. I’ve recced some of my favorites here before, including And Dance by the Light of the Moon, All the Children are Insane, and Iolokus. Big thanks to MustangSally for doing this interview.

What's the story behind your pen name?

I could tell you but then I would have to kill you.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Yes and no. Yes, because life has moved on since the early nineties and the characters and the fans are in vastly different places now. Our current tech would make the premise of the X-Files impossible. No, because of the longevity of some of the Star Trek TOS work (there’s an archive of hard copy fanzines at the University of Iowa). Top-drawer authors started out in TOS fandom.

I’m just greatly saddened that my physical body is showing wear and tear while the fic doesn’t. Fic gets to stay smooth-skinned and muscular, captured at the peak of perfection.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

At the risk of sounding atrociously trite, I think of the friends I made. I met some very remarkable women that I’ve been able to stay friends with online for over twenty-five years. We may have moved to Facebook and post entirely too much about our pets and which of our body parts has sagged this week, but we’re friends. It’s a furiously funny, feminist, and well-educated group of women with jobs in the highest levels of academia, finance, communications, and media. I’m amused by the fact that if I have a question about how a virus replicates, I can ask a PhD I’ve been drunk with in Las Vegas.

Back in the day, I had a job that sent me traveling around major cities in the US and UK. I could post on a message board and within ten minutes there were people I could go out for dinner and drinks with. We already knew we had something we could talk about for at least a couple of hours. Additionally, most of these people were women so there was an added level of security. Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Well, it was mostly atxc and the Yahoo! groups mailing lists that spiraled out into Geocities sites and, eventually, LiveJournal. The amusing thing is that getting in on the ground floor of social media and the Internet has helped me get jobs! When I look at a new piece of software, I think, ‘this is hella easier than uploading to Geocities.’ We had to walk uphill both ways, in the snow, on dial-up, fighting off dinosaurs with our AOL CDs while writing HTML code. What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

DO NOT FEED THE TROLLS.

The past four years in politics have basically been the ugliest online kerfuffle the world has ever seen. I survived the Shipper Wars of ’96 and I thought those were brutal, but that was NOTHING. The only way to win an argument online is to not have the argument at all. Arguing with a troll is like mudwrestling a pig: You both get filthy and only the pig is happy.

Also, READ THE FUCKING TERMS OF SERVICE.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I had the most terrible straight-girl crush on Scully. I wanted to be her best friend, I wanted to BE her. I wanted to order Chinese food and paint each other’s nails and talk about bones. Scully and Princess Leia and I could all just hang out poolside with hot and cold running waiters and poolboys, drink margaritas, and bitch about how unfair it all was – if the stupid men would just get OUT OF THE WAY AND LET US DO OUR JOBS, the world would be so much better. What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

This question is really about Iolokus, isn’t it? You can’t fool me. [Lilydale note: I can neither confirm nor deny the motivation for this question, but I cannot complain about the answer.]

Simply put, I was enraged. The moment it was revealed that Scully’s ova had been used in experimentation, I lost my feminist mind. It was the most obscene defilement imaginable. Scully wasn’t nearly as angry as I was. What I thought needed to happen was for Scully to become a fiery force of vengeance against the MEN who had done this to her. Clearly, I was not going to get that level of satisfaction from the show, as I was imagining Kali-like carnage on a global scale. I emailed RivkaT (whom I did not know well at that point) with a proposition that we work together. Strangely enough, we didn’t meet face to face until we were well into the project, but we did talk on the phone quite a bit. The rules were simple – everyone had to be punished in truly horrific ways, and at some point, we had to see if we could write a car chase (only because that seemed impossible). Then it basically turned into a very twisted game of chicken to see who could be the most outrageous in terms of killing people off or writing really horrific things that fit within the structure of the narrative. I did, in the end, write the car chase, but RivkaT one-upped me by throwing in a helicopter (a FOX News helicopter, at that).

Really, RivkaT? A helicopter? What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom? I am terribly proud of what I wrote, pleased that it brought pain and pleasure in equal amount to people, and, again, thrilled by the people I became friends with. I admit that I stopped watching the show when Scully announced her pregnancy. I could only see a long jump over a shark tank for the rest of the series. I haven’t watched the new episodes, either. It is complete in my mind and doesn’t need to be continued. I wouldn’t say no to having a reunion with some of my fic friends, although we’re still chatting online like everyone does. Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

Rivka and I wrote in the Buffy fandom for a few years, but then we moved on to real adult jobs that left absolutely no time for me to write. I’m in education, and I regularly sweat blood for fear that someone is going to find my old fic. The Buffy people were fun; there was a certain *shininess* to them that I really enjoyed. The X-men authors were just batshit and delightful, and some amazing stuff came out of Marvel fandom, particularly in the Thor/Loki and Steve/Bucky subgenres. I’ve learned to appreciate a good coffee shop AU and one famous Erik/Charles fic where all the main characters are crabs. Seriously, crabs—it’s hysterical. [Lilydale note: Other Crabs Cannot Be Trusted by groovyphilia currently has almost 2,500 kudos at AO3.]

Every few years, I’ll have a student try to explain to me what fandom is and I just smirk. Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully? No. Not really. Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom? I fell into an X-Men hole a few years back and had a great old time wallowing in the Cherik muck, and there was a flirtation with BBC Sherlock as well. Strangely enough, I became interested in A/B/O fics only because of what they were saying about the role of women in our society. The limitations on the male omegas seem absurd and then you realize those are the same limitations put on women all. the. time.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

RivkaT very nicely formatted everything and put it up on AO3. What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

I will always be stupidly proud of how shocked and horrified people were by Iolokus. The truth of the matter is that Iolokus has Greek drama at its core. Scully is Medea, and the entire story is lousy with “blood on the threshing floor” and Dionysian rites. The everyday is subverted into horror, and wives and daughters will tear men limb from limb like the Maenads. Since I was ultimately disappointed with what Chris Carter did with the entire show, that approach seemed appropriate.

At a certain level, all fic is corrective fic. Like critic Anne Jamison said, “Irritated fans produce fanfic like irritated oysters produce pearls.” And because fic has fallen so much into women’s sphere, a pure form of correction is not just the death of the author but the MURDER, a new creation springing up from the spilled blood like Cadmus sowing dragon’s teeth.

Okay, that’s a bit much. Maybe I should just take myself back to the isle of Goth Amazons or something. Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

I had to write a self-evaluation and a reflection on pedagogy today. If that’s not fiction, I don’t know what the fuck is.

All my creativity is caught up in trying to pretend to be a normal middle-aged white woman so no one knows I am really a lizard.

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

Keep writing, keep reading, keep fighting the commercialization of narratives. As things grow more and more commodified, all our dreams and desires reduced to tchotchkes made in China, it’s a revolutionary act to separate your work from the marketplace. Be bold, take chances, turn the trope on its ear and kick it in the ass. Take everything the creators have done to make a work palatable to the unwashed masses and set it on fire.

Be subversive.

Be mean.

Have a great fucking time.

(Posted by Lilydale on March 2, 2021)

#old school x #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #xf fanfic author interviews #mustangsally

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

HASO, “Saved by a Nightmare.”

I wanted to write something short and quick today, but this is what happened instead. I hope you all like. I knw you wanted to know more about the Bran and what happened to Ket

He was alone.

Finally!

He said that, but what he didn’t know is that he had actually been mostly alone for the past five years. After his traumatic experience some five years earlier, he had requested a transfer to a mining station on an unnamed planet in an unnamed system on the very outskirts of andromeda.

He had not come up for air in those five years.

He had not seen a sole or the suggestion of another sole other than the glowing bioluminescent coating that he left behind to brighten up the tunnels just a bit.

He was technically supposed to be down here mining precious metals, and of course every day he sent up a token care of rocks and waste through the main shaft just to make him think he was actually doing something. He was not, in fact, doing anything at all really except slowly excavating his tunnel deeper and deeper, this increasing the likelihood that he would never see another living being for the rest of his life.

And so there he rested at the bottom of the deepest shaft amid a pile of rubble contemplating his own thoughts.

A pastime that was not really recommended because when he went into his own thoughts he often spent much of that time bitterly contemplating the last few years and what had led him here in the first place.

Ket was famous, and he had spent the list five years trying to make himself anonymous once again.

Why was he famous?

Because he had been the first alien to have ever met a human.

He was the first alien species humans had ever come in contact with, and because of that chance meeting he would probably have emotional scars for the rest of his life. When he closed his eyes at night he often watched, as if in slow motion as the dangerous creature with its too sharp teeth and strange churring growl chased him through mases and tunnels, never giving up, never ending pursuit until Ket wa exhausted and lying helpless on the floor.

He saw the thing in his dreams.

Jumped at every noise

And cowered at the very thought.

He had been just a pup then really, but the meeting had scarred him for life.

He had asked to come here only months after the encounter and hadn’t come up for air since. The outside world was lost to him, and he knew nothing of it except for the horrible humans which were now probably waiting for him on the surface, ready to eat him.

A part of him wondered if the strange predator creatures had taken over the galaxy yet, and maybe he was the last one of his species left trapped down here in the dark.

Ket didn’t watch the news, or seek any information about the horrifying creatures that had turned him into this. It would have taken him less than half a day to crawl from his tunnels and go ask, but the thought of leaving his safe, protective confines, just make him sick to think about.

No, he would stay here where it was safe.

He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, when suddenly a low rumbling tremor rose up through his body.

He sat up and looked around as the cave shook and pebbles danced on the floor.

What was going on!

He turned in a tight circle pressing his ear against the wall.

Oh hell!

The tremor had destabilized his tunnel. He could hear it through the rocks.

What was happening! He tried to move, but as he shifted he felt the tunnel rumble slightly.

On no….. On no, this wasn’t how it was supposed to end, he was going to die down here, and there was no one to come save him. He hadn’t submitted a report in weeks….

In reality years.

No one was going to be ale to find him!

He sat there frozen in shock as another tremor rocked his tunnels. WHat was happening!

*** “Mayday mayday, Omen one this is mining facility 46A13 requisition immediate assistance.”

“Copy that 46, Omen in root to your position, please stand by.”

“And how do you plan on dealing with a tunnel collapse, Admiral. That's not exactly our area of expertise.” Sunny walked beside him, her long even strides eating away the distance as they made their way down towards the hanger.

“I have no idea but we are going to find a way.” They rounded a corner and the Admiral dropped to one knee for a quick moment offering his hand to a small fluffy figure who climbed onto his hand and allowed the Admiral to rest him on his shoulder, “Lord Avex, I am glad you could make it. Have you been briefed.”

The small, colorful, and pig eared creature tapped his foot on the Admiral’s shoulder.

“I think, if we remove one of the Vrul shield modulators, and unhook one of the laser mounts we might be able to make something functional for a rescue mission.”

“How dangerous is that going to be taking two high powered objects into a cave?”

“On a scale of one to ten?”

“Sure.”

“A twenty.”

Admiral Vir grunted and rounded the corner to where a group of marines werve suiting up in armored spelunking gear.

“Don’t the mining companies have equipment for this kind of thing?” Sunny asked, “I would assume they would be ready for any eventuality like this?”

“You would think that.” Adam said, walking over to joining the others, “But they are actually a little less prepared than you might think. The Bran have been mining manually for a long time, and they usually don’t need precautionary measures because they mine so well, of course this planet had also not shown any seismic activity up until now either, so I guess we can all be wrong about something.

“Lord Avex, talk to your men about getting the equipment ready.”

The fuzzy creatures bobbed its head, which looked more like it’s entier body, and rolled down the Admiral’s arm like a ramp, plopping to the floor and then dashing off into the darkness.

Adam pulled on a hard hat and tested the light.

“I still don’t see why they would send you. You guys have to experience in this sort of thing.” Sunny pointed out

Adam secured his hard hat and looked up smiling, “If I didn’t know any better I would say you were worried about me.”

She crossed both of her arms, “I AM worried about you, you big idiot. You seem to have this thing for running into dangerous situations with only half assed plans.”

He just smiled, “Not entirely half assed, we are going to be hooked up to camera feeds leading up to some of the diggers who are going to give us instructions.”

“Then why don’t they do it themselves?”

“The bran aren’t exactly known for their bravery, Sunny.”

She stared at him with narrowed eyes, “And sometimes, I wish that you weren’t known for yours either.”

“I’m flattered, I really am, but I have to go.” he reached out a hand, paused and then drew it back, stepping away while awkwardly clearing his throat, “Anyway, keep the crew out of trouble while I am gone will you.”

Sunny had no time to say anything else as Lord Avex returned at the head of a small army of his fluffy companions carrying some random parts that they were able to attach to Adam with some warning that this was going to be very dangerous.

Lord Avex would be accompanying him to make sure the machine didn’t self destruct at any point.

Sunny did not find that particularly comforting.

The humans on the other hand suited up like it was just another day for them, setting up and loading onto the drop ship without so much as a backward glance.

Adam flew one of the ships down, lord Avex claiming the copilot seat.

The world they landed on was tidally locked with it’s star leaving on side completely cold and the other side overly hot. They landed on the band between light and dark where it was bearable, and made it to within the Bran’s atmospheric bubble, which was the one piece of technology they were actually known for.

Upon arrival they were briefed on the situation.

Less than an hour ago there had been some sort of seismic activity below the surface of the planet. The jolt had been enough to destabilize many of the tunnels. Fortunately for them large groups of Bran had been able to make their way out due to their superior mining skills, but there were still a few trapped inside due to cave ins.

No bran was willing to go back down there to help their comrades, but the Tesraki overseers had had the brilliant idea to look for a group of creatures stupid enough to try themselves.

At least the Tesraki seemed to care about their people, which wasn’t often the case with the furry businessmen.

Most of the workers were stuck on upper levels, and would be relatively easy to get out.

But there was one.

“I am going to be honest with you Admiral, we aren’t entirely sure the bran is still alive down there. No one has seen him in nearly five years. We are only sure that he lives because, occasionally we get sent up a cart of useless rubble from one of the deeper shafts. Generally I would say he is a gonner and just leave him there, but, we have to try all of our options before we resort to abandoning one of our people.”

Adam nodded, “I have a Vrul strength shield and a Celzex designed laser. Will that be enough.”

The two Tesraki looked between each other in quick contemplation before one of them nodded, “The laser, for sure, but I don’t know how well a shield would stand up to the entire weight of a mountain crushing you, we can only hope that we can navigate you down there fast enough and quietly enough not to disturb the tunnels too much.”

“I will go with you to work the laser.” Lord Avex announced, and Adam didn’t argue. He knew the little creature would be offended if he questioned his honor. Celzex may have been insufferable egoists most of the time, but no one could deny their sheer bravery, or perhaps stupidity, but that was something he could admire at least.

He was a human after all, and had practically written the book on competent stupidity.

They were led across open ground under a dark sky, where massive floodlights were being shined down on the multiple tunnel entrances.

They walked a ways into the darkness of the first mine shaft where Bran were still fleeing for cover.

From there each of them was paired with a handler, who would give them instructions on their way down.

Adam was paired with the team lead since he was going to be going deepest. Lord Avex sat on his shoulder.

The Bran stared at them as they walked inside, shying away from the much taller, much scarier looking humans.

Looking at them brought back memories of his first alien encounter, a memory that was both fond and embarrassing considering he was pretty sure he had driven that particular alien to madness.

He had tried to find Ket before, to apologize for freaking him out, but by the time he had gotten around to it, the Bran had already gone to ground. Oh well, maybe one day something would happen, and he would get his chance to apologize

“Can you hear me.”

“Yeah I've got it.: He said, adjusting the sound on his implant.

“Now the entire cave system has been built throughout with audio relays, so we shouldn’t lose contact, but if we do, keep moving forward, and whatever you do, try to keep control of your feet and don’t let them touch the side walls.”

“Yes sir.”

The Bran had mostly cleared out of the front entrance leaving it open for Adam and the group of marines to begin their descent down into the darkness. He looked over at the marines in admiration, never had he had the opportunity to work with such a brave group of men and women, and he looked up to them every day.

They started breaking off halfway down the shaft to their different areas, until Adam was the last one still walking down. At this point the saft was still big enough for him to stand at his full height, and floodlights on the walls were still giving him a good view of where he was going. He had gone down some distance by the time he reached the end given two passages to chose from.

“Left.” he was ordered, and he stepped inside, gingerly making his way across the floor and trying not to touch the walls.

Lord Avex rested on his shoulder controlling his head mounted light.

The tunnel grew smaller and smaller as he went, and he found himself crouching along the way.

Lord Avex moved around back and clung to Adam’s harness.

“See the cracking in the cave above you,”

Adam looked up and did, to his chagrin, see a web of hairline cracks spidering across the ceiling, “Yeah.”

“Those are kept in check by the shoring up along the walls, and you don’t have to worry about them. Cave ins are going to be our biggest concern, now take the next right.”

He did as told,and had to duck under a low opening before continuing his way down. By way of instruction he made his way deep into the ground, sliding down ropes, and climbing through caverns with the ease of a creature that could only have been Bran or human. As far as he knew the Bran were the only other creature that had ever been designed for climbing besides humans, though he was finding that that kind of climbing was a bit different. Humans had originally found their homes in trees, while the Bran had always been cave dwelling creatures.

He found this out pretty soon as he tried to fit his shoulders through a very small opening, slithering forward and trying not to disturb the rock too much.

He was glad he had never been claustrophobic because even he was feeling a little closed off, he could hardly imagine what someone with a fear of being crushed would feel at a moment like this.

“How are you doing down there Admiral.”

He was huffing and puffing rather heavily as he army crawled through the next section of tunnels, lord Avex waddling ust before him.

“Good, good If these caves get any smaller I might not be able to fit though…. Shoulders too big, and there better be a place for me to turn around or otherwise I’m well and truly fucked.” He said that as a joke but a part of him was definitely panicking at that possibility.

“The Bran always build turnaround areas into their tunnel, Admiral, you are going to be fine. Anyway you are approaching the next section. This is a part no one else has been in as far as I know, so we are going to have to play it by ear.

That also was not entirely comforting, but he was going to have to work with it.

He hurried forward , as much as he could and slithered into the vertical shaft going downward.

This was scary as hell, but he kept control and didn’t panic crawling his way deeper and deeper into the caves.

At one point he was coming round a sharp corner some hour down into the dark when a soft rumbling rolled through the stone.

He felt his heart jump into his throat and the rocks swayed around him.

For a moment a spot of true panic colored his thoughts. He was going to die down here…. After everything that had happened….

“Hold on, must be an aftershock.”

He gritted his teeth and kept his head lowered, hand hovering over the control for the shield. He had no idea what would happen if he engaged it this far down, and he didn’t really want to find out, but soon the tremor passed, little fountains of dust falling onto his head. Up ahead the fluffy Celzex was no longer so colorful, matted with dust and gravel.

“Are you ok Admiral.”

“Alright.” he grunted. “A little bit shaken up is all.” He began crawling his way forward again.

Based on our sonar readings, you are getting close. The rock is much less stable down here, so you are more likely to run into cave ins.

He followed as instructed, moving forward and examining the rock below his hands.

As they said would happen they found a caved in part of the tunnel just up ahead.

“You’re going to have to use that laser to dig around one side and create a new tunnel, you will want to avoid the weakened areas of ceiling, so move back a few feet and go through the right hand side”

Before him, the little Celzex move into position ready to fire the weapon, now turned mining equipment.

The laser was bright red and almost blinding in the darkness, and he only had his gloved hands to scoop away discarded rubble, which he gently pushed up the tunnel praying nothing would be distrubed.

It took them a good hour to work through the new tunnel despite the laser, and when they did he was surprised to see an open tunnel glowing with a strange bioluminescent film.

“Something has been living down here.” he muttered kind of glad he was wearing gloves as he crawled into the tunnel.

Getting close Admiral.

***

Ket lay in the rubble ready to die, he knew it was coming, new his life would soon be at an end. Oh how sad it was that it should be so early. Stuck underground in the darkness for the past who knows how long…. Probably no more than a year or so.

Either way he was going to die here, and no one would come to help him. Bran weren’t brave, they didn’t come to your aid.

Bran were cowards at heart and he knew that most of all.

No one was coming for him.

Of course that is when he heard the strange scraping up the tunnel.

He sat up lifting his head and staring into the darkness. WHat could that be!

He was the only one here and had been the only ne here for as long as he could remember. Was he going mad, Where were those sounds coming from!

He pressed back into the wall.

Maybe that hadn’t been an earthquake, maybe there was some sort of giant worm crawling through the depths of this planet finally coming to eat him. Oh the depravity! Couldn’t he just be left in peace!

The scraping sounds grew louder and louder and louder, and he watched in shocked terror as a shadow jolted forward in one of the upper bends.

There was nowhere to run, nowhere for him to go, and even as he thought that the tunnel began to shake again. He held on for dear life, eyes closed praying that death would take him quickly, for he did not want to know what was around that corner. The shaking soon stopped and the figure started moving again.

Ket watched, in mesmerized horror as the thing poked its head around the corner.

Bulbous head, bony shoulders, long spindly arms and bony digits.

Ket began to scream, scream and scream as loud as he could as the creature born of his nightmares scuttled out of the darkness and came crawling towards him. It made some of its same guttural gurgling noises, the ones that had haunted his dreams, and he pressed himself back into the wall screaming and screaming and screaming.

It had come for him at last to devour his heart.

It reached out and grabbed him by the snout, cutting off his scream.

The ground around them began to rumble as the creature gripped him with iron hands, the pale white of its eyes glistening wetly through its dust smeared face.

“Shut UP, shut up shut up, do you want this whole damn thing to come down on us.”

He certainly had not expected to hear his own language, and his attempted screams cut off in a confused gurgle. The rumbling died down a little.

The creature made a gesture with one hand, “Ground team this is Admiral Vir, I have the last survivor and am bringing him up now.”

What…. Wha?

What was going on.

The creature's white teeth glittered in the illumination of his tunnel just as wet and gaping as before.

He was so scared he could hardly move, but shocked as well as the creature from his nightmares pulled him forward and hooked a harness around Ket’s body clipping it to a loop on a harness that encircled the creature's back legs.

“Now do what I do, and you might just live.” The creature hissed at him, still, disconcerting in his own language.

In a daze, Ket followed after as his nightmare dragged him from the collapsing tunnels. Trickling runnel of dust poured down around them from cracks in the ceiling above. It was made pretty clear early on that this creature had not ever been meant for the caves, despite Ket’s memory of one of it’s kind chasing after him through the underground. It was too large, meant to walk upright on thick sturdy legs, but till it climbed with the ease of any Bran.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t scared.

Memories from that night not so long ago, or it seemed to him, kept racing through his mind. Flashes of glowing green eyes and flashing white teeth champing at his heels. The sound of its revving hunting cry as it raced through the darkness. But now he was being towed along behind it as the tunnels rocked around him.

“Shit shit shit shit.” Came the muttering up ahead, and he looked to see that there was another creature riding on the thing’s back. It stared at him with very wide white eyes.

“Lord Avex?”

“Yes?” The creature responded, sounding much less concerned than the predator.

“What happens if you die here?” it was a very blunt and morbid question, but the creature didn’t seem to mind.

“I will be honored for centuries having died in a heroic manner.”

The predator made an incomprehensible grunting noise.

“Admiral, the cave system has been compromised and the tunnels are collapsing. Get out as fast as you can, I repeat as fast as you can, if there is a cave in you will want to be closer to the surface because we might be able to reach you.

They were talking like they expected a collapse, which wasn’t really all that comforting.

The predator went very quiet, but sped up to the point Ket was being dragged along behind.

All around them the tunnels were shaking.

Dust filled the air clogging their vision as the beam of light fractured off dust motes.

They passed a point he had not gone further than in five years, and the predator scrambled up the vertical climb as easily as a Bran would, he scrambled on hands and knees dragging the two of them along. He was almost able to walk in a crouch now, but the tunnels were beginning to cave in around them, rocks falling from the roof and smashing against the ground. The Preditor ducked and pulled to the side grabbing ket around the middle and the strange fluffy creature in the other hand. The tunnel was wide enough for him torun now.

Ket could do nothing but watch.

The predator probably could have escaped if it dropped him, but it refused to do so, adjusting him even as it ran so it could keep better hold, clutching KEt to it’s chest. Its breathing was ragged, labored and panicked, but still it refused to let him go.

He thought he could see light.

And then.

“Its coming down!”

The predator pulled to a stop and threw himself to the ground.

The cave rumbled and roared as rocks egan to fall around them. Ket looked up only to see the underside of the human’s chest and belly as he hugged the two smaller aliens in the leah of his body against the falling stone. He heard the cave ceiling fracture and then felt a pulse of energy around them.

The Last thing he heard was a scream and then a crushing weight.

***

Ket woke unable to breathe, or barely able to breathe, all around them there was a dim glowing of a blue purple nexus, and as he looked he watched the nexus quiver under the strain.

Overhead the predator was curled in around them in a tight ball pressed up against Ket and the strange fluffy creature who was blinking confusedly in the dark.

The predator wheezed as the nexus flickered, holding the two aliens' protection to his chest, pressing his back against the nexus.

“Admiral, are you alright?” The fuzzball asked

“How long will the shield hold?”

“It depends on how many tons of rock we are trapped under.” The Celxex said mildly.

Ket was surprised they were alive at all, based on their original depth he would have said a couple thousands tons for sure.

They were dead.

He glanced up at the predator, nothing more than a dust painted face and two glowing whtie orbs in the dark. This predator had died trying to save him, was dying trying to save him.

It seemed odd that his life was going to end like this.

He looked up at the human and in that moment, in the glowing of the nexus lights he saw the green of its one working eye.

He would have known that color anywhere.

“You!”

The predator looked down at him in confusion.

What? “You…. You’re… that thing!”

“Did a rock hit this one in the head or something.” The one called Lord Avex asked.

But the predator eyed him ,sudden recognition crossing his face, “Ket?”

The creature made that same strange revving noise that made ket pull back in shock.

“Sorry, Sorry, I am just a bit surprised to see you here, I tried to find you to apologize but…. You had already vanished by then.”

“Apologize?” He was so confused

“Yes, I was a bit enthusiastic upon our first meeting. They say I scared you half to death. I promise it was an accident. I never meant it that way, I just get a bit out of hand when I am excited.”

This was news to Ket

He wasn’t entirely sure how to take it.

“Ok ok you two kiss and make up already.” Lord Avex jumped in

The predator grunted, “At least when I die I will have that off my conscience.”

The Nexus flickered and shrunk.

They folded forward on themselves just slightly. Pressed uncomfortably close.

Wheezing fill the hot and muggy confines of their bubble.

The were going to die son.

The nexus continued to grow smaller and smaller until they were curled into a ball with the predator around them, pressed to the point of not being able to breathe. He felt the human’s belly rise and fall with his labored breathing.

They were about to die

And then, The nexus expanded slightly.

The human relaxed, and as minutes wore on the nexus continued to grow until with an eruption it burst up through the rock and dark night sky appeared above them.

The nexus flickered and then died, leaving them all lying on the stone gasping and covered in dust.

Paramedics ran forward to where tey lay with shocked yelles describing how they were still alive.

Ket stared at the human as he was attended to by aliens and others of his kind.

No one seemed to find it odd.

It became clear to Ket in the next few minutes that he had missed a lot.

Bu he hadn’t missed, his once nightmare, becoming his now savior.

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

Text

lizzie davis being iconic

I wish I was this cool in high school. Honestly, she was one of the funniest characters to write and she was just super duper iconic. Also, this can contain some spoilers for the story

‘Ugh,’ Lizzie groans, ‘she’s polite. Barf.’

✦ ✦ ✦

‘No way,’ I hear Lizzie say, as she pushes through us and hurting me in the process. Ouch, that girl is strong. She places her hands on her hips and shakes her head. ‘Is that who I think it is?’

✦ ✦ ✦

‘Shame I got a crush on his best friend, but Henry William Dalgliesh Cavill… Hello, you look good.’

‘Okay, stalker,’ Lizzie says, ‘how the hell do you know his full name?’

✦ ✦ ✦

Lizzie scoffs. ‘No biggie? Oh shut up, he is into you. I sat in front of him in English Lit last year and he never spoke to me.’

✦ ✦ ✦

‘I saw that,’ she says in a harsh tone. ‘It’s nauseating to see he is so shy and you are too and it’s only the first day of school.’

‘Imagine what could happen later on!’ Morgan says.

‘I don’t want to think about it.’ Lizzie leans back in her chair. ‘It’ll probably make me vomit anyways.’

✦ ✦ ✦

‘Morgan, get your shit together, they’re coming over. Act normal.’ Lizzie looks over at me and says: ‘I don’t know if you are going to be normal when Henry gets here, but I’m going to say it to you anyways because you’re new. Act normal, Natalie.’

✦ ✦ ✦

‘We’ll be practicing the Celine Dion song, you know. This rendition of Titanic will rock.’ Tyler nods and smiles wide. ‘So, bring your best vocal cords.’

I look at Lizzie, who meets my eyes and has a disgusted look on her face. ‘Ew,’ Lizzie says. ‘Tyler, please, for once be normal.’

‘Too much?’ Tyler asks Lizzie, who answers with a nod. ‘Sorry, new school year, new me, you know?’

‘Yeah, that’s bullshit,’ Lizzie says.

✦ ✦ ✦

‘I wouldn’t do it,’ Lizzie interferes. ‘It’s bullshit anyway.’

✦ ✦ ✦

‘He better not be,’ Lizzie says. ‘I swear, Morgan, if you ever date him, I’m gonna kill you. He is such an idiot and I have no idea what on earth you see in him.

✦ ✦ ✦

‘Oh yay,’ Lizzie says in a monotone voice. She places her hands on her hips, as she frowns deeply checking me out. ‘Natalie, I don’t remember you having a jacket like that. Doesn’t Henry have one exactly like that?’

My cheeks burn up. ‘He does. This is his actually.’

Henry rubs the back of his neck and clears his throat again.

‘I’ll be damned,’ Lizzie notes.

✦ ✦ ✦

Tyler checks me out from top to bottom. ‘Damn,’ he says.

Lizzie stomps his arm. ‘You disgusting pig. Don’t look at the poor girl like that.’ She flashes me a look and says: ‘Shut up, I don’t care about you. I just despise this guy and everything he does.’

✦ ✦ ✦

‘Tyler,’ Lizzie groans, ‘you said that about my mom and Morgan’s. You need to stop saying how our mom’s are cute.’

✦ ✦ ✦

‘I love this part,’ Lizzy says, as we watch the captain rip the Nazi flag in half. ‘So satisfying and so hot.’

✦ ✦ ✦

Lizzie groans. ‘Yeah, she can’t shut up about you two.’

✦ ✦ ✦

‘You’re finally relatable,’ Lizzie says. ‘You’re learning.’

✦ ✦ ✦

‘Hello ladies,’ Tyler exclaims. ‘I can see your beauty sleeps has done their magic. The three of you look absolutely stunning, even better than you did yesterday.’

‘No, I’m not going to buy you something from the vending machine,’ Lizzie says.

✦ ✦ ✦

‘Ugh, whatever.’

✦ ✦ ✦

Morgan hooks her arm through mine and says: ‘I have a fashion dilemma.’

‘And you ask her?’ Lizzie asks. ‘No offense, Nat.’

‘No offense?’ Morgan asks. ‘Oh goodness, you care about her.’

‘Ew, no, I don’t care about her.’ Lizzie rolls her eyes, before she stands in front of the two of us, causing us to stop walking. ‘You just have to ask me for fashion advice. I mean, you think this outfit just happened?’

‘No, that couldn’t have possibly just happened,’ I say, as I check her outfit out. I mean it though. Her checkered pants, her high heeled boots that are not practical for school, but compliment this look and the turtle neck is indeed an outfit that couldn’t just happen.

‘Exactly,’ Lizzie says. ‘So, please, when you say that you have a fashion dilemma, please direct the question to me.’

‘Totally,’ I agree. ‘But what is this dilemma anyways?’

‘What I should wear next week on Monday. We have band practice.’

Lizzie looks disgusted. ‘You’re going to dress up for that moron?’ she asks. ‘Normally I wouldn’t help you out to impress Tyler Wilson, but fashion is just too important to me, so I’ll come by this weekend and bring some supplies.’

✦ ✦ ✦

‘I could’ve known,’ Lizzie says. ‘Honestly, if we ever lose either one of you, we just have to see where the other is.’

✦ ✦ ✦

Lizzie walks over to us and says: ‘Morgan, you were good. Tyler, you were awful. Henry… You weren’t the worst one on stage.’

✦ ✦ ✦

‘So, tonight was Titanic show night, tomorrow is the winter ball. Who of you lovely ladies can I chaperone to the ball?’

Lizzie sighs. ‘I wouldn’t be caught dead with you at the ball or anywhere else for that matter.’

‘A no would’ve been sufficient enough, Lizzie,’ I chuckle. ‘Tyler, I actually think you should take Morgan as your date.’

✦ ✦ ✦

‘Okay, okay, enough,’ Lizzie says. ‘You made your point. You have dates, you’re probably gonna kiss, happy happy happy happy happy.’ She scoffs loudly and says: ‘I’ll just be by the bar, spiking up my own drink with some alcohol.’

‘Liz, how are you gonna get alcohol?’ Morgan asks. ‘Last time I checked you’re a minor.’

Lizzie scoffs, actually looking offended because Morgan is underestimating her. ‘I obviously have my ways.’

✦ ✦ ✦

Lizzie wouldn’t be Lizzie if she didn’t shove the two of them aside, because why walk around them, when you can barge through them? ‘Because it’s your birthday, I’m gonna tell you this: it has been exhausting to be around them and their awkward shenanigans and I might’ve missed you a little. Happy birthday, you dwarf.’ She pats my shoulder, only to frown and give me a decent hug.

I’m getting a hug from Lizzie Davis? Is this for real?

‘Don’t get used to it,’ she says, taking a step to the side, glaring at me dangerously.

✦ ✦ ✦

‘It’s getting ridiculous,’ Lizzie says, ‘that I’m surrounded by awkward couples. I mean, Morgan and Tyler are by far the most awkward almost couple ever and you and Henry almost are romantic.’

‘Almost romantic?’ I ask. ‘It’s not romantic.’

‘We know about his care package delivery service,’ Lizzie deadpans.

✦ ✦ ✦

Lizzie looks to the side. ‘I hate her.’

✦ ✦ ✦

Tyler has his arms wrapped around both his girlfriend and a very annoyed Lizzie, who we hear say: ‘Get your dirty paws off of me, you pig.’

✦ ✦ ✦

‘Okay, you disgusting people,’ Lizzie says, ‘pull your tongues from the other person’s mouth, act normal and not nauseating romantic like you usually do and go with us to have some snacks.’

✦ ✦ ✦

Taglist: @diegos-butt // @summersong69 // @christhickevans // @thelastsock // @shamelesssoff // @crazybutconfidentaf // @abschaffer2 // @cherry-gemz // @mansaaay // @omgkatinka // @oddsnendsfanfics // @sunshine96love // @laufeysodinson // @legendarywizarddetective // @lyrarodriguez

#it's a funny story #it's a funny story extra #lizzie davis #ofc #asian ofc #asian oc #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #natalie lee bennett #henry cavill x natalie lee bennett

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thegreatestofheck · 4 years

Text

Sweet as Honey, Hard as Steel || JJ Maybank ||

this one’s for @lovelyfreshfestival ! It wasn’t a request but it’s for her anyway.

word count - 4.0k warnings - There’s a lot of softness here, a lot of fluff, but also some mentions of death synopsis - JJ’s girlfriend is the complete opposite of everything one would expect. A straight A student with big life goals, Elena has never been the drinking, smoking, fighting type. And JJ wouldn’t have it any other way. a/n - I hope this okay! The idea popped into my head and I couldn’t get it out.

***

“Remind me again how the hell did you get her to go out with you,” Pope said, watching the girl as she fell off of her surf board for the sixth time. JJ sighed and let out a puff of smoke, a smile pulling at his lips.

“I’m one lucky bastard,” was all he said.

Kie stumbled out of the water, surf board under her arm. Behind her came JJ’s girlfriend, Elena, a wide grin on her face.

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Kie was saying, but Elena just laughed.

“The day I surf a wave successfully is the day pigs fly.” Elena lay her surf board on the sand before flopping down beside JJ. He promptly tucked his vape pen into his pocket.

“I thought you looked great,” JJ said, smiling at her. Elena leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his cheek.

“Are you kidding me?” Pope asked, eyes wide. “I fell off my board once a few weeks back and you haven’t gotten off my back since.”

“Well, Pope,” JJ said, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “Once you look that good in a bikini, we’ll talk.”

Elena’s cheeks burned red as she stood, looking down at her friends.

“Hey,” JJ said, lifting his hand to grab hers. “Where are you going?”

“We have school in an hour,” Elena laughed, pulling a loose dress over her head. “I can’t be late. Have a test.”

JJ groaned, laying back in the sand.

“Shit,” Pope hissed, pushing himself to his feet. “That test’s today?”

Elena nodded, sliding her feet into a pair of sandals.

“I’ve heard it’s a gnarly one. I’ve been studying since last week,” she said and Pope cringed.

“Damn.”

Kie and JJ stayed in the sand, unmoving. Kie flipped her sunglasses down over her eyes. Elena tapped JJ’s ribs with her foot. He looked up at her, squinting against the sunlight.

“I’ll see you after third period, yeah?”

JJ nodded his head.

“Good luck on your test, babe.”

“Catch some good waves for me, hon.”

Elena leaned down and placed a kiss on top of his head. She sent a wave to Kie before following Pope to his car.

***

With a sigh, Elena leaned the back of her head against her locker.

“I can’t believe I got that stupid question wrong,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it too much,” John B said, shutting his locker and giving his friend a smile. “I think you’re just gonna have to accept the fact that I’m smarter than you.”

Elena scoffed and let out a laugh.

“In your dreams, Johnny Boy,” she said, walking alongside him toward the lunch room.

As she and John B turned the corner, Elena found JJ leaning up against his locker. One of the girls who had been known for notoriously flirting with everyone, especially with JJ, was standing in front of him with her usual loose grin.

“Shit,” John B muttered under his breath, shifting the bag on his shoulder. “Nana-”

“Don’t worry about it, Johnny,” Elena said with a sigh and a smile. “I can handle it.”

She stepped up to JJ and the girl, Sandy, with her usual smile. When JJ saw her, his eyes lit up and he straightened. Sandy turned around and frowned.

“Oh,” she said.

“Hey, Sandy, how are you today?” Elena asked stepping past her and standing beside JJ. He put an arm around her waist and pulled her in for a kiss, but Elena dodged it.

“I was doing just fine until you showed up,” Sandy said, crossing her arms. Elena just smiled.

“Well, I was gonna go to lunch with JJ here, so, if you would excuse us-”

“Doesn’t it bother you at all that your boyfriend flirts with all the other girls at this school?” Sandy asked, stepping in front of Elena and JJ before they could move.

“Not really no,” Elena said as she tilted her head to the side. “I trust JJ completely.”

Sandy raised her eyebrows. JJ stood beside Elena with a wide grin.

“You may trust him, but-”

“There are no buts, Sandy,” Elena said, putting a hand on the other girl’s arm. “And, no offense, but I frankly don’t feel very threatened by you.”

Sandy’s lips twitched, trying to find something to say in retaliation, but Elena didn’t give her the chance to. She gave another sweet smile and stepped around her.

JJ and John B followed suit, both falling into step alongside Elena.

“Have I ever told you how much I adore you, Nana?” John B asked, looking down at his friend.

“I think I’m spoken for, Johnny,” Elena said and then looked down at her feet, clutching her textbooks to her chest.

“Damn right she’s spoken for,” JJ said, throwing his arm over her shoulders. Elena smiled up at her boyfriend before bumping his shoulder with hers.

“What are we eating for lunch today?” John B asked absentmindedly, putting a hand on his stomach.

“I have an idea,” JJ said as he glanced down at Elena. Her cheeks burned red and she shoved him lightly away from her.

“In your dreams, Maybank,” she said. John B gagged to himself.

“Every night,” JJ replied with a wink. Elena rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the butterflies that exploded in her stomach.

***

“Like that?”

“Yeah, babe, just like that.” JJ said with a grin. “Shit!”

Elena stepped back, sweaty and breathless, dropping her hands to her side. JJ turned away from her, a hand on his face.

“Oh, hon, I’m sorry,” Elena said, stepping toward him. But JJ just laughed.

He was teaching her how to fight. She wasn’t so sure she needed to know, but he was always worried about what went on when he wasn’t around. But Elena was still working on her aiming abilities. This time, she had missed his hand and punched him in the face instead.

“You’ve got a mean right hook,” JJ said, turning back to look at her with a laugh. Elena cringed, the side of his face already red.

“Let’s go get you some ice.” Elena wiped the sweat off of her face with her shirt. JJ simply shook his head.

“If I iced every bruise I’d be a walking ice cube,” he told her, but from the look in Elena’s eyes, he knew that she wasn’t backing down. She hardly ever did. Her stubbornness was one of the most compelling things about her. That and how sweet she was and the fact that she tasted like honey and how she had the resolve of steel and...

There were a lot of things about Elena that JJ just couldn’t get enough of.

JJ watched her as she started for his house.

“Stop staring at my ass and come with me,” Elena said with a laugh. JJ rolled his eyes and followed after her.

If it had been up to him, they would be doing this at her house so she would never have even the possibility of running into his father. But, as Elena said, she and her mom were currently living out of a hotel as her house was being fumigated, a hotel that was on Figure Eight, which wasn’t either of their favorite places to be.

He asked her if he could take her to the Chateau to teach her to fight, or maybe even the beach, but Elena wasn’t having it. Part of him wondered if she wanted to meet his dad. Knowing her, she was hoping to accidentally run into him just so she could give him a piece of her mind. But JJ would be ready for that if it happened. He wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. Not now, not ever.

By the time he stepped back into his house, Elena was already in the kitchen with a bag of frozen corn, wrapping it in a towel. JJ cringed to himself. She deserved better than a dirty house towel and a boyfriend who constantly needed to be patched up.

He couldn’t count the number of times he had come to her house to get away from his father. Sometimes, it was because of the physical fights. Sometimes, it was just the yelling and the name calling he couldn’t stand. It didn’t matter. Elena would always take him in, even before they started dating. Her mom never got antsy about a boy spending the night, never questioned either of their intentions. When JJ couldn’t stay at his house and he couldn’t bear to look his friends in the eye, Elena and her mom were always there for him.

And Elena never once complained. Even now, there was a hint of a smile on her face. It was like she genuinely...cared for him. She didn’t ask anything of him, didn’t want anything from him. Except the same love and respect that she gave, which he was more than willing to reciprocate.

“It’s going to be a little cold,” Elena warned, kneeling in front of JJ as she lifted the wrapped ice pack to his face.

“I’m a big boy,” JJ told her with a grin. “I think I can take it.”

Still, he flinched ever so slightly when she put the pack against his eye.

“I’m sorry I hit you,” Elena said, resting her other hand over one of his.

JJ scoffed and was about to say something snarky that would have made her scowl, but before he could do so, his dad burst in through the front door. JJ and Elena both stood suddenly. Elena’s heart spiked because she thought it was a robber. It wouldn’t be the first time someone broke into the house she was in. JJ’s heart dropped into his stomach because he knew exactly who it was.

“What’s this?” Luke Maybank asked, his words slurred, a beer bottle in his hand. Elena felt JJ tense, his hands curling. For a moment, fear ran through her blood. She knew who this man was, knew what he had done to the boy she loved. Then the fear passed and was replaced by anger. She knew exactly what he had done to her boyfriend and she had just learned that she had a mean right hook.

But that wasn’t her. She let her anger die down before stepping forward with a smile.

“My name is Elena,” she said with her hand extended. Luke glanced back at his son with a half a smirk. He rejected Elena’s handshake by taking a swig of beer from the bottle.

“This your newest whore?” Luke asked JJ, ignoring Elena entirely. She felt her cheeks grow hot and ice run through her veins.

“Don’t call her that.” JJ’s voice was tight, angry. Elena stepped backward, preparing herself for whatever was to come.

“I understand that your son has a certain reputation.” Elena spoke slowly, carefully. Don’t set off Luke, don’t set off JJ. It was a fine line she walked. “But that’s not me.”

“Then who are you?” Luke dropped down at the table, right across from where Elena and JJ had just been sitting.

“She’s my girlfriend,” JJ ground out through his clenched teeth. Elena felt her stomach tighten, especially once Luke’s eyes widened. She could see him, feel him, scan her body with his eyes. It made the tips of her ears tingle with discomfort, but she was determined to not let it show on her face.

“You never told me,” Luke said, taking another long drink of beer. When JJ didn’t respond, Luke turned his attention back to Elena. “Doesn’t bother you that your little boyfriend here didn’t tell his old man about you?”

Elena gave a small smile and shook her head.

“We’ve been keeping things pretty much on the down low,” Elena lied. Practically everyone on the island knew about them. How it had escaped Luke, she had no idea. “Just waiting for the right time.”

“Where’d you get that shiner, boy?” Luke asked when it appeared that nothing he was saying was getting under Elena’s skin. “Another fight at school?”

“Yeah,” JJ said quickly before Elena could tell Luke that it was her. “Something like that.”

“Emma, why don’t you stay for dinner tonight?” Luke gave almost a real smile as he leaned forward.

“It’s Elena.” JJ’s hands curled into fists. Elena reached back without looking at him and covered one of his hands with hers. She felt him relax slowly.

“I would love to stay,” she said with her sweet as honey smile. JJ stiffened. The absolute last thing he wanted was for Elena to get stuck at the dinner table with his dad. But she never let her smile falter.

“There’s some corn in the freezer and a little bit of rice over there. Might be some fish in the cooler out back.” Luke stood from the table and headed off toward the back of the house. “Call me when it’s ready.”

Once his bedroom door was slammed shut, Elena turned around to face JJ.

“You don’t have to stay,” JJ said, his voice just at a whisper. “You can sneak off. I’ll make some excuse.”

Elena shook her head, taking his hands in hers once again.

“I’m staying.” Her word was final. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. There was nothing he could do now to change her mind.

The two of them started on dinner, moving as quickly as they could so as to not piss Luke off even more. Neither of them spoke as they cooked. A weird feeling was twisting in JJ’s gut, but it was a good feeling. Foreign and unfamiliar, but good somehow. Elena was actively trying not to think about how damn attractive it was to see JJ cooking fish.

By the time Elena had the table set and JJ went to go get his dad, it was a little past 6 o’clock.

“I’ll be damned,” Luke said as he walked into the kitchen. Elena felt her gut clench as she lowered herself slowly into a chair. “You want a beer, girl?”

Elena smiled but shook her head slowly.

“No thank you,” she said.

“Why not?” There was accusation in his voice.

“Elena doesn’t drink, Dad,” JJ said. Luke glanced between Elena and JJ before bursting into a fit of laughter.

“My boy’s girlfriend doesn’t drink?” Luke put his hand on his belly, throwing his head backward as he laughed even harder. JJ glanced over at Elena, whose cheeks were red, her smile gone from her face. “I’ll get you a beer, son.”

JJ pressed his lips into a fine line. As soon as Luke had stepped into the back toward the cooler, JJ turned toward Elena.

“You still have time to leave,” he whispered to her. Elena tried to smile as she shook her head.

“He doesn’t scare me,” she whispered right back. “Besides, I had to meet him sooner or later, right?”

JJ didn’t have the time to respond before Luke walked back in. He handed his son an ice cold beer and gave Elena a water bottle.

“So, Elena,” Luke drawled, pulling her name out nice and long. “Tell me about yourself.”

Elena spent the next hour or so doing everything she could to get on Luke’s good side. Did she hate him? Most definitely. But she wasn’t about to give Luke another reason to belittle and torment his son.

By the time dinner was finished, Luke had downed three more bottles of beer, working on his fourth. After popping a few pills that Elena couldn’t name, he was pretty much out of it.

“He’s not going to remember much of this,” JJ said as he walked with Elena to her car. Elena looked down at her feet, fiddling with her hands. She wasn’t entirely sure what to say. “I’m sorry-”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Elena said, turning to face him. “Nothing.”

JJ lifted his hand to her face. The cool of his rings against her skin sent chills down her spine. And when dipped his head down to kiss her, Elena felt warmth seep into her bones.

“You aren’t your dad, JJ,” she told him as he pulled away. “You’ll do well to remember that.”

***

Elena sat in her room, the lights shut off, the curtains closed. Curled up in a ball, she kept her gaze on the wall, almost unblinking.

Outside her room, her mother sat at the table with JJ.

“She’s fine most days,” her mother said, voice low to keep her voice from traveling. “But sometimes the loss of her father just hits her.”

JJ nodded his head slowly, looking at Elena’s door.

“How long does it last?” He asked. Elena’s mom shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee to calm her nerves.

“Sometimes it lasts a few hours. Sometimes the whole day.”

“She doesn’t eat? Doesn’t come out of her room?”

“Nothing. She doesn’t even respond when I go in there. And she won’t talk about it once it’s passed.” Elena’s mom hung her head, trying not to cry. “I don’t know how to help her. She tries so hard to be strong for me, but she won’t let anyone be strong for her.”

JJ sighed. There was a part of him that wanted to get up, wish Elena’s mom good luck, and go find his friends to smoke a joint. But another, deeper part of him knew that he couldn’t do that. After all the times that Elena had sat with him while he cried or bandaged up his face or calmed him down when all he wanted to do was scream, he couldn’t leave her now.

“Would she let me in?” He asked her mom. Elena’s mom looked up at him, eyes full of tears.

“She won’t stop you,” the woman said, wiping her eyes. “You don’t have to go in there, sweetheart.”

JJ didn’t look at Elena’s mom. He just stared at the door, resolve hardening in his stomach.

“Yeah, I think I do.”

JJ stepped forward and didn’t stop until he was at her door. He lifted his knuckles and knocked on the door quietly.

“Elena, baby?” He called through the door. “It’s me.”

When there was no response from the other side, JJ looked back at her mom. She gave him a little nod, a new stream of tears running down her face. JJ pushed the door open as quietly as he could.

It was never dark in Elena’s room unless she was asleep. The curtains were almost always open to let the light in and when it was night, a string of fairy lights kept the room illuminated. But now it was the middle of the day, the curtains closed, the lights shut off. If she absolute silence hadn’t been a warning, this definitely was.

JJ didn’t say anything. He knew she wouldn’t respond even if he did. Elena lay on her bed, her back facing the door. She lay on top of her blankets, completely still. So still that JJ wasn’t even sure she was breathing. His heart rate spiked, but he didn’t rush to her.

Moving slowly across the room, JJ stopped by her bed, waiting for a few moments. She still didn’t turn around toward him. With a steady breath, JJ lowered himself onto her bed. Elena still didn’t react. It wasn’t until he was right behind her, his arms snaking slowly around her waist to pull her in closer, that Elena flinched as if finally realizing he was there.

A quiet gasp came from her mouth as her body jerked, but she didn’t try to move away.

“I’m right here,” he whispered, breaking the silence in the room. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Elena nodded her head a few times. JJ could feel the pace of her breathing start to pick up. He wasn’t entirely sure what it meant for her until her mouth opened and a sob came out. She lifted her hand to put stifle her sobs, but JJ grabbed her hand before she could.

“It’s okay,” he told her. “You can cry.”

Elena shifted and JJ tucked his chin against her shoulder, pulling her in even closer. He tightened his grip around her stomach as she cried, holding her as tight as he could without hurting her.

It didn’t matter how long she needed to cry because JJ wasn’t going to leave her. He knew he could be a hard ass, that he still flirted with other girls even when he didn’t mean to, that he did things that he knew was going to freak her out. But every time she would be there, no matter what kind of shit he put her through. Her resolve was as hard as steel.

Holding her, he remembered all the gentle kisses she gave him, how every one was filled with so much love and care, even if it was just a quick peck on the cheek. He always knew he meant something to her. And it wasn’t just him. She had won the hearts of the people who meant the most to him. Even before JJ and Elena started dating, John B, Pope, and Kie all adored her. She would study with Pope, listen to Kie rant about the injustices of the world, and even help John B keep his house in order now that it was just him living there. And she never asked for anything in return. Her heart was as sweet honey.

JJ knew that her dad had died in a car accident a few years back. The other driver had been intoxicated, high or drunk, no one really knew. But the driver had walked away without a scratch while Elena had to bury her dad. Ever since then, it had just been Elena and her mom. She didn’t really talk about it much, preferring instead to focus her energy on others.

“I’m here,” JJ told her as her. Her sobbing started to quiet down, her shaking starting to calm down.

“I know,” she whispered back, her voice torn from her own sobs. “Thank you.”

Eventually, her body stilled. Her breathing became more and more steady. JJ pressed a gentle kiss against her neck.

Elena sat up slowly and JJ rolled onto his back in response. She leaned over him and plugged in her fairy lights. The room lit up and Elena’s eyes sparkled at the sight of it. When she looked down at JJ, her face still stricken with tears, he smiled up at her.

“My dad was the one who strung these lights,” Elena said, looking back up. “They remind me of him. Sometimes, I wake up and they’re off and it just reminds me that he’s not here anymore.”

JJ sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed.

“He’s here,” JJ said and put a hand on the side of her face. Elena shut her eyes and nodded her head, leaning into his hand.

“I think I need to go talk to my mom,” Elena told him. JJ stood and offered his hand to help her out of the bed.

“Text me if you need me,” JJ said. Elena smiled. She stood on her toes and put her arms around his neck.

He stepped back away from her, letting her hands fall back to her side. He gave her a short wave before walking out of her room. He passed Elena’s mom who was still sitting in the kitchen. Her head was now in her hands, her coffee cup empty. When she heard JJ’s footsteps against the creaking floor, she looked up, eyes filled with tears. JJ shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Thank you,” the older woman mouthed. JJ gave her a short nod before heading toward the door.

As he opened the door, he heard Elena’s mom stand up from the chair. JJ paused and turned around, just in time to see the woman pull Elena into a tight hug. With a small smile, JJ finally turned away from the house, shutting the door behind him.

#jj maybank #jj x oc #jj fic #jj obx #jj angst #jj imagine #outer banks #obx #outer banks imagine #john b routledge #john b #john b obx #kie obx #pope heyward #pope obx

441 notes · View notes

norman891 · 3 years

Text

...

@sleightlyoffhand

“Pardon me?” Edward bristled at Haigh’s tone. Again, he heard the man mumble something that could be mistaken for a less than genuine apology before wandering away down the beach. He looked at what he assumed had once been a pheasant and glanced at Victor.

“And what does he expect us tae do wi’ this wee birdie?” he asked sarcastically.

Victor shrugged, then took the bird and seasoned it with salt, pepper, and some dried herbs, including some strong-smelling rosemary and sage, then put it over the fire to cook. “The captain will enjoy this.” he remarked, knowing Hook’s fondness for tender white meat. “I’ll be glad when we can go back to ship. Is too damned hot on this beach.”

“Aye mate,” Edward agreed. “Bugger all this heat.”

“What did his nibs say to ye?” Victor asked.

“Not quite sure about that,” Edward replied, watching Haigh grow smaller the further down the beach he strolled. “I think it were supposed tae be an apology of sorts, but it was a back handed one if any at all. He did nae mean a word of it either.” He snorted. ” We’ve been busting our arses for almost thirty hours, and he thinks a pheasant will do for his penance?”

“Bloody assassin,” Victor grumbled. “Tis a mistake the captain took him on, in my humble.”

“Or not-so-humble,” Edward grinned, and Victor laughed.

The bacon was finally cured to Edward’s liking as well as the two turkeys and some of the cuts of venison and wild boar. The meat was wrapped in cheesecloth or flour sack towels until it could be properly stored on board.

The longboat had returned from delivering its first load to the Jolly Roger, and Victor set about loading it with more provisions with help from the crew. Several men brought the stretched hides to be taken out and set out on the ship’s deck and the boat headed back to the ship to be unloaded.

Hook’s tent and accoutrements were loaded into a second longboat, leaving room for the captain to be seated at the stern. All other frames were taken apart and stowed between two downed trees and covered with leaves for future use. Once a smokehouse was done with, several crewmen would carefully disassemble the large sheets of bark and frame and hid them in a niche under the outcropping of rocks Haigh had been perched on.

The longboat returned from the Jolly Roger a third time, waiting for the Victor to decide if the large venison and boar hams were smoked to perfection. Finally, he gave the word and the last of the meat was wrapped in cheesecloth and loaded into the longboat while the last of the smoke houses were broken down and stored. The pit the pig had been cooked in had been filled in last night and to the uniformed viewer, the only evidence the pirates had been there were the ashes from their fires.

Victor returned to the ship with the longboat on it’s last ferrying of meat and tools. His remaining pots and pans were on board as well as the cast iron roasting spit. He had stored the roasted pheasant in one of his Dutch ovens with some of the roasted vegetables to serve Hook for his evening meal.

Now that hard work began for the crew. The four cannons were rolled back to the longboats and loaded back to be replaced on the Jolly Roger. Hook watched his dogs working in unison with high spirits, even more satisfied with Edward’s hunting prowess. He watched the man kicking sand over the last two small fires that had fueled the smokers and dust his hands in a most pleased manner. The two boats with the cannon shoved off and began rowing back to the ship, leaving Hook, Smee, and Elijah waiting on Joe Haigh to return.

“If you don’t mind, Captain,” Edward started, “I thought I’d take a quick dip tae get the sweat off me.”

Hook nodded his approval. “Of course,” he said. “Why should I mind?”

“Anyone else mind?” Edward asked the remaining hands.

“Go ahead,” Hook insisted. “You’ve worked for over thirty hours. Please, refresh yourself. I understand the water is comfortably cool.”

Edward needed no further prodding. He pulled his shirt off over his head, shed his kilt, and strolled in until he was waist deep in the ocean, then dove into the waves, scrubbing at his scalp. He washed under his arms, after a fashion, and rubbed the sweat from his chest, then reached down and cleaned his undercarriage. Satisfied he was clean, and muchly cooled off, he sauntered stark naked out of the waves and reclaimed his kilt, which he always wore regimental style. He retrieved his shirt and walked back to the last longboat where Hook and the others were waiting on him. The breeze had quickly dried his torso and arms, so he pulled the thin white linen shirt back on.

“And where is Mr. Haigh?” Hook asked, annoyed.

“He mumbled something about digging clams and went off down the beach,” Ed replied, running his fingers back through his damp hair to keep it out of his eyes.

Hook glared down the beach angrily. Unless the man was hiding behind the cluster of boulders, he was nowhere to be seen. “Damn that impertinent son-of-a bitch!” he swore. “I distinctly told him to make himself useful in camp.

“Oh, he did bring several armloads of firewood, and a single pheasant, but that was the most of it,” Edward answered. “That’s when he said something about digging clams and I’ve no seen him since.

“Well, I’m not waiting all evening on him to return.” Hook snorted, climbing in to take his seat. Smee, Elijah, and Edward all pushed the longboat into knee deep water before assuming their places; Smee and Elijah at the oars and Edward sat beside his captain.

“Di’ nae fret about him,” he said to Hook. “He has a wee boat he can row back in when he’s done wi’ whatever devilment he’s up to.”

“What makes ye think he’s up to no good,” Smee asked, pulling on his oar.

“Because he’s out o’ sight and in defiance o’ the captain’s direct orders.” Edward pointed out. “I know I’m only the cook’s helper, but I know a rat when I lay eyes on one, be it two or four legged.”

“I am beginning to share your opinion.” Hook said angrily. “There will be retribution for this, whenever Mr. Haigh decides to grace us with his presence again.” He sat staring out at the open ocean beyond his ship, wanting to up anchor and leave this cursed island, and leave Joe Haigh on it. But as many times as they’d tried, no matter what course they set, the island always reappeared on the horizon. He was trapped here so long as Pan lived, and Haigh was not doing the recon on Peter’s hideout as promised.

“Tis a shame those brats hobbled you, Edward. I think you’d have had the imps hunted down in a matter of days. That was some damned fine hunting you did. Damned fine shooting too.”

“Thank ye, sir.” Edward felt himself blush. “Just doing my part to help out.” He looked back over his shoulder at the empty beach, wondering just where Joe had gone and what he was up to

Once back on board the Jolly Roger, Edward collected his baldric, carbine, and bow and stored them in their appropriate corner of the pantry. The room smelled heavenly: warm, smoky, and spicy. The scent of smoked meat was heavy, with meat hanging from hooks in the ceiling. Victor’s crocks lined the shelves and there was still fruit and vegetables to be dealt with. The apple barrel was full as well as a barrel of oranges and several bushels of pears. He smiled, rolled up his sleeves, and headed to the galley to help Victor. Smee passed him on the way out, taking the captain his dinner.

#captain hook #neverland #peter pan 2003 #pirates #sleightlyoffhand

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hookedonapirate · 3 years

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Book Update

If you've noticed I've been updating my cs fics a lot lately, it's because I had to take a break from my original fic. And I've kind of been discouraged lately because when I worked on my first book, Follow My Lead, I got stuck for a whole year where I was unable to write one word for it. And I was afraid the same thing would happen for this one I'm work on. Last time, I wasn't able to push forward with the story until I scrapped the outline. So I didn't use an outline this time.

Then I got to thinking yesturday, maybe that's why I was stuck. Because each story will be different and will not always require the same process, for me at least. Some people can't write with outlines and some can't write without them. When I'm writing Cs, I normally don't need an outline because it comes so much easier to me because I'm already connected with the characters so the stories pretty much write themselves. But that's what I struggle with when writing original fics. So, for those of you who write or plan to write fics, either original or fanfic or anything with characters, it's very important to CONNECT with your characters first. It is essential and will save you a lot of time and energy and headaches, and will be much less stressful and mentally draining.

Anywho, what I'm trying to say is I started outlining for this and was able to get through the obstacles I had before. So to celebrate having a successful writing day for this book, I'd like to share a sneak peek.

In this sneak peek, I mention the rule of three and it's inspired by a conversation I had with people at work. Before someone pointed this out, I never realized how much we actually utilize the rule of three. Then I did some research and it turned out to be perfect for the chapter I'm writing.

Teaser

“I have to say, it’s refreshing to get to talk about the exhibits with someone.”

She looks at me with with an arched brow. “Oh? Why’s that?”

“Well, one, because I usually come here alone, and two, because when I came here with my ex, she had her face buried in her phone the entire time. So it was pretty much as if I went alone. Mind you, she was the one who suggested coming here. The only reason I never suggested it was because I thought she'd be bored.”

Her brows furrow, as though she’s baffled by this. “Why come to The Met just to be on your phone the entire time? That’s like going to Disney Land and waiting in the car. Or going to Universal Studios and not visiting the Wizarding World of Harry Potter.”

My eyes widen in excitement. “You’re a Harry Potter fan?”

She nods. “Are you kidding? My sister and I are diehards.”

"The books or movies?"

"Both."

I chuckle and wag a finger at her. “I knew I liked you.”

She laughs. “I'm no Seer, but I think a Harry Potter marathon might be in our future.”

“And The Stand?” I add.

“And The Big Bang.”

“Okay, fine,” I chuckle. “But aren’t there like twelve seasons?”

She nods matter of factly. “279 episodes to be exact.”

I scratch my head in uncertainty, not knowing if I can sit through that many episodes of a show I don’t really care for.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she laughs. “It’s a lot.”

“No, I’ll give it a try. Who knows, I might actually like the damn show.”

“You will, I promise.”

“Well, how about this - I’ll watch the first three episodes, and if I still don’t like it, I don't have to continue,” I suggest, certain I can sit through three episodes of pretty much anything.

“Okay, but why three? Won't you know whether you like it or not after the first episode?"

"Nope."

She narrows her eyes. "How can you be so sure?"

I shrug. “The rule of three.”

She cocks a brow. “Rule of three?”

“Yeah, we subconsciously apply it to most things in life, including the way we make decisions." When she looks at me like I just grew two heads, I expand. "The average person typically gives something or someone at most three chances before they've made up their mind about whether or not they'll stick with it. If we’re not hooked by the third joke of a standup show or the third chapter of a book or the third date with the same person, we're usually emotionally done with it at that point. As they say in baseball, three strikes you’re out."

She nods. "And third time’s a charm?"

I point a finger at her. "Exactly. If something isn’t successful after the first couple times, chances are it will be the third try. So if it's not successful after three, it’s not meant to be.”

She purses her lips in thought. “Huh, I never thought of the number three as an unspoken rule before.”

“Yeah, it works for a lot of things in life. Including survival. You can survive three minutes without breathable air or in icy water, you can survive three hours in a harsh environment, you can survive three days without drinkable water and you can survive three weeks without food. In the Marines, we lived by the rule of three when it came to survival tactics and completing tasks. Worrying about more than three things can be confusing or overwhelming. And regarding organizational structure, officers usually have fire teams of three or squads of three teams and so forth. You see trios in a lot of stories and movies, too - The Three Musketeers, Three little pigs, The Three Stooges. The Declaration of Independence has three main purposes and uses the phrase, Life, liberty and pursuit of happiness. There are a lot of other famous quotes that use clusters of three. Love, honor and obey. I came, I saw, I conquered. Stop, drop and roll. There are three meals a day, and three-course meals.” I pause when I realize I’m rambling. “I could go on, but I don’t want to bore you...if I haven’t already.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “No, not at all. It's interesting because you’re right; we do live by the rule of three.” She bites her bottom lip, pondering that thought for a moment. “So, do we usually apply that rule to sex, too? Like if the first three dates are successful, is that when a person makes up their mind to sleep with the other person?”

My cheeks heat and I chuckle, trying to ignore the nerves in my stomach. I definitely wasn't expecting that question. Certainly not from her. She just seems quiet, a little shy and kind of reserved. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised. This is the same woman who invited me into the ladies' room at the diner for a hot, steamy makeout session.

Fuck.

I have to shake the thoughts out of my mind, otherwise I'll be hard as a fucking rock until I drop her off. "Well, I can't speak for women, but I think men typically decide after the first date. Sometimes long before a first date is even established. Scratch that. Definitely before that."

A shy smile tugs at her lips as she looks away, her cheeks painted with an adorable shade of rosy red. “Sorry, it's just been a while since I've dated. My last boyfriend was my highschool sweetheart."

"Really?"

"Yeah, we started dating when we were both seventeen and were together for five years. I haven't dated anyone since we broke up."

"Wow. That is a long time. As far as your question goes, I don't know if the rule of three applies in this case, regardless of gender." I scratch my head nervously, trying to answer her without saying something stupid, but it's extremely hard when her question painted a very vivid picture in my mind.

Extremely hard, indeed.

"I mean, uh...it doesn't have to? That's up to you." I clear my throat, trying to get my thoughts straight. "The point I was making before was, if I don’t like The Big Bang Theory by the third episode, chances are I won’t like the rest of the series."

"Yeah, I get it now," she laughs.

@onceuponaprincessworld @teamhook @artistic-writer@ilovemesomekillianjones @hollyethecurious @gingerchangeling@ultraluckycatnd @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @snowbellewells @let-it-raines @wellhellotragic @itsfabianadocarmo @lfh1226-linda @sophiaaz @becausetheyrehappythisway @thislassishooked @hookedmom @resident-of-storybrooke @kateroselin @chamomileandmint @kday426 @sals86 @lawgeeks @yasbio2015 @xsajx @delightfully-difficult-pirate @wanderingjpg @squidvisious @tenaciouskittynight @biefaless @animatedshorts @lassluna @ejunkiet @melsbels @meat-pie-with-sauce @roseyflush @ivalane @tiganasummertree @nowforruin @qualitycoffeethings @nikkiemms @oncechicagolove @theonewiththeory @lostinwonderland314 @darkcolinodonorgasm @arshini01 @companion-mala @carpedzem @youareafeverdream @maguilar1028 @mayquita @courtorderedcake @shady-swan-jones @timeless-love-story @laschatzi @officerrogers @spartanguard @andiirivera @ouatpost @jarienn972 @winterbythesea @winterbaby89 @distant-rose @xhookswenchx

#writing struggles #small successes #my fic #original fic #shameless self promotion

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ffakc · 3 years

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Puppy Love - a Jeffrey Dean Morgan fanfiction

@negans-attagirl @iluvneganandjamie @happysgal

It was a partly cloudy, brisk spring day. It was just warm enough to go without a jacket here in upstate New York. Jeff and I had planned the perfect day date on his property. We have been together about seven months now and life couldn’t be more perfect. I had just finished up packing our Mediterranean inspired spread. I snapped a quick photo and sent it to my Jeffrey.

“Italian subs, Greek pasta salad, roasted red pepper hummus with pita bread, baklava, and tiramisu. Anything else? I’ll see you soon!”

“Stomach’s growling already. I’ll be out back, just let yourself in. Xxx.”

I shoved some toiletries and comfortable clothes in my overnight bag. I snapped the picnic basket shut and headed to my car. Any time I thought about my Jeffrey, my whole body buzzed with excitement. I felt like pinching myself, Jeff was my dream come true. He was everything I ever wanted and needed.

I pulled up to Jeff’s farmhouse. His front door was unlocked like he said it would be. Honey’s “woo-woo-woo!” adorable howl-bark echoed through the house.

“Hi, Honey! Where’s Daddy?” I ask her and ruffle her scraggly ears, her teddy bear like eyes closing in bliss. She scampered to the back door and I follow her to the massive pastures. Jeff was tossing hay over the fence to the donkeys.

“Paxton, buddy! Leave some for the rest of them! Good lord, you pig!” Jeff laughs and turns to me. “Hey, baby!” I set the picnic basket down and fling my arms around his neck with a kiss.

“I’ve missed you,” I rest my forehead against his.

“I’ve missed you more, doll. I’ve also missed your cooking, sweet girl,” Jeff smiles. He looked so damn good in his farming clothes, redefining the phrase “ruggedly handsome” with his cuffed flannel and salt and pepper scruff. His top buttons were undone, exposing his masculine chest hair and the few necklaces he wore daily. Bandit came bounding over and jumped between us.

“Hey, boy!” I laugh.

“Someone doesn’t like me getting all the attention!” Jeff exclaims. “I can’t get a hug from my girlfriend? Rude!” he teases the fluffy monster. “Do you see that huge tree over yonder?”

“It’s beautiful,” I reply, clutching the basket so the dogs don’t get a snack.

“That’s the spot,” Jeff takes me by the hand and we make our way across the property. The alpacas stared at us intensely.

“Are they going to spit on me?” I joke.

“I told them to stay on their best behavior because we had a guest coming!” Jeff gestured to the checkered blanket he had laid out and ice bucket with a bottle of sparkling wine and two glasses. He opens up the basket and cracks open the hummus, dipping his finger in and licking it.

“At least grab some bread, you animal,” I playfully punch his shoulder, ripping off a piece of pita and dunking it in the rust orange colored deliciousness.

“Sorry, Mom,” Jeff jokes. “Wow! Is that homemade?” I nod. “Delicious, absolutely delicious. Ooh, I like the little bite to it!” I take the sandwiches out of the wax paper. “Ah, ah, ah! Go on! Get!” Jeff scolds and shoos the dogs away. “You’d think I never feed them or something!”

“I don’t mean to brag, but I made the pesto mayo on these sandwiches too,” I say, sipping my wine. I take a bite of the chilled, tangy pasta salad.

Jeff sinks his teeth into the sub. “Baby, that’s so fucking good,” he rolls his eyes back in pleasure with a mouthful of food. I kiss his cheek sweetly. “God, you sure know how to treat your Daddy right. I don’t deserve you, you know that? You’re too damn good for me, sweetheart.”

“Oh hush,” I kiss my boyfriend. He closes his eyes and deepens the kiss, running his fingers through my hair. Jeff’s eyes shoot open at the sound of Bandit barking loudly.

“Hey guys!” Jeff calls out to the puppies. “Those aren’t dogs, they’ll kick the shit out of you!” they weave in and out of the alpacas’ legs. We eat our meal and laugh as they pant wildly and chase each other all over. I pack everything neatly back into the picnic basket. Dark clouds begin forming in the distance.

“I admire their energy!” I remark, rubbing Jeff’s knee and finishing off my drink.

“I know, right? My ‘get up and go’ got up and went years ago! I swear, the moment I hit forty, my body sounds like Rice Krispies when I get out of bed,” Jeff chuckles and kisses my forehead.

“What are you, eighty?” I tease.

“Hey, you’ll get there someday, youngin! You agreed to date an old fogey! Shit, I feel a few raindrops, maybe we should head inside. But first,” Jeff rises to his feet and suddenly pulls out a pocket knife.

“What are you doing?” I stare at him, puzzled.

“You’ll see,” Jeff says. He carves into the tree. “Ah, there we go.” There was a heart with our initials in it. Three magic words escaped his lips, “I love you.”

“Jeffrey,” I sigh as thunder rolls above my head. That was the first time either of us had said that and it felt so... right. I stand up and wrap my arms around Jeff’s neck, his cowboy boots making him tower over me. He places his cowboy hat on my head with a grin. “I love you too.” The rain suddenly began pouring down.

“I’ve always wanted to do this. Kiss me in the rain, pretty girl,” Jeff pulls me against him as our clothes get soaked. My heart flutters in my chest. I never wanted to let him go. He picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. Jeffrey made my life feel like a cheesy romantic movie and I loved every single minute of it. A crack of thunder scares the dogs away and Jeff sets me down.

“I think that’s our cue to go inside,” I chuckle. Jeff grabs the picnic basket and extends his hand.

“Run!” he shouts as if we were in an action movie and laughs. He takes me by the hand and we trample through the mud to the farmhouse. The dogs shake and run around the living room. I hang Jeff’s hat on a hook by the door and he drops the picnic basket on the counter. He takes me into his arms and kisses me deeply.

“I love you, I love you. God damn it, I fucking love you,” Jeff whispers against my lips. I run my fingers through his sopping wet hair. “I used to think ‘love at first sight’ was a myth before I met you. If I don’t get to put a ring on that finger of yours, I don’t even want to get married, baby girl.”

“I can’t wait for that day. I love you too,” I sigh longingly, looking into Jeff hazel eyes. I press my lips to his and push him against the kitchen counter, a groan escaping his lips as I rub myself against the crotch of his pants.

“Mmm, going to make me make a mess in these jeans like a teenager,” he chuckles, “God, I want you so bad,” he begins removing his belt.

“Take me, Jeff,” I whimper. Jeff pulls my skinny jeans down aggressively and bends me over the counter. Thunder rolls outside as the cold granite against my stomach gives me chills.

“Look at these lacy black panties,” Jeff growls, “Someone knew Daddy would be fucking her good.” His words instantly make me even more aroused. Jeff’s slender fingers slide over my outer lips, slowly brushing over my clit, “So wet and I’ve hardly touched you. That’s my good girl.” I whine as Jeff slides in with a gasp. He grabs my hair with one hand as his thrusts start gentle and rhythmic. “Oh god, baby doll. You feel so good.”

“Right there, Daddy,” I moan. My older man knows just the right spots to hit.

“That’s it, baby. Take all of me,” Jeff groans as he goes deeper. He pulls my hair and rasps in my ear, “Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours,” I can barely speak, my legs are shaking.

“I can’t fuckin’ hear you, sugar,” he nibbles my neck as sexy smacking sounds fill my ears. “Whose pussy is this?” Jeff moans a little louder.

“Yours, Jeff!” I exclaim. “My body belongs to you, Jeffrey! Oh god, fuck me!” I gasp.

“I love when you beg for me,” Jeff remarks. “I’m so close already, sweetheart. I love you so much.”

“I love you,” I reply. He flips me over as the lights flicker with a loud crash of thunder.

“Look at me,” Jeff cups my cheek and kisses me. “Oh Princess, you’re beautiful,” he gasps. “I’m going to- oh sweet Jesus, baby doll!” a deep growl resonates in his chest as he finishes deep inside me. I whimper as my nether regions throb, leaking with Jeffrey’s hot, sticky juices. “You’re mine,” he smirks.

“And you’re mine,” I pant, scratching his gray beard as he rests his forehead against mine. I scan over Jeff’s gorgeous face, everything about this man was absolutely beautiful. He peels me off the counter and his lips crash into mine.

“Forever and always, my gal,” Jeff sighs lovingly.

#denny duquette #fanfic #fanfiction #greys anatomy #jeffrey dean morgan #negan #the walking dead #older man younger woman #john winchester #supernatural

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

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Lover, Lover, Number 9

Second day of HWOL!! Today’s prompt was Love Potion!! Read here or on my ao3 @ej_writer

Word Count: 4,593

Rating: T

Warnings: Non-Consensual Touching (Pretty much blink and you miss it and very non-explicit. It happens while a person(s) is under the influence of a love potion.)

It’s all Max’s fault, honest.

For the week leading up to Valentine’s Day, Billy’s been trying to pick the best person to be his date. Not that Valentine’s was really that important to him, per se, but he’d made a bet.

His step sister, the little brat, had made a wager that if he didn’t have himself a date by the fourteenth of February, he’d be forced to drive her everywhere she wanted to go for a whole year.

There was no way he was about to fork over that much of his time to some snotty middle schoolers, but finding someone he’s willing to go out with, a condition of Max’s bet was that it couldn’t just be a hookup, ended up being a lot harder than he anticipated.

Before he knew it, there were only two days left before he either got a date, or subjected himself to the dweeb-orama gang.

He tried to ask Carol, since Tommy dumped her right before the big day and she seemed to be into him, or at least how his ass looked in his jeans, but she tells him she doesn’t want to deal with the drama. So he tries Tommy, but he wants commitment and feels like Billy’s just in it to best Max, which, yeah, he sort of is. Everyone else follows the same pattern, can’t keep up with his reputation, can’t trust him in a relationship, on and on and on.

It’s over breakfast one morning, as he groggily makes him and his sister both a bowl of cereal, that Max asks him, “Why don’t you just ask Steve?”

Billy acts unphased, doesn’t even bother to look at her. “Steve who?”

“C’mon stupid.” His sister rolls her eyes and drags a bowl over towards herself. “Everyone knows you like Steve Harrington.”

“Do not.” He shovels a mouthful of cereal in his mouth.

“Right. Lemme guess, you don’t eat like a pig either?”

“Very funny.” He fixes her with a glare. “I’m serious shitbird, just because I like him doesn’t mean I like him.”

She nods and agrees. “Sure.”

“And just because he's nice to me doesn’t mean I have to have the hots for him.”

“If you insist.” Her bottom lip juts out as she agrees with overemphasis.

“What is your problem?” He snaps.

“I’m just agreeing with you. You don’t like Steve Harrington.” There’s a mischievous smile darkening her sweet face as she tells him matter-of-factly, “But, if you’re really desperate, I know a way to get him to like you.”

And Billy already knows what she means, of course the little shit would suggest something like that. “Nuh-uh. No way, I am not using magic.”

“Why not? Clearly you need it.”

“Because I can do it on my own, brat. Just don’t want to.” He's too defensive for it to not be true and they both know it, so before he lets a thirteen year old do anymore damage to his ego, he adds, “Can't deal with your bull this early.”

Max looks at him all smug like, her eyebrows raised as she hides a knowing smile behind her cereal bowl, but she does let it go, if not just to watch her step brother stew in silent annoyance. She’d gotten under his skin so easy, and she thought it was funny.

Her step brother, on the other hand, does not, and narrows his eyes at her, practically snarling at the look on her face. “Shut up.”

“I wasn’t even saying anything!” She bites back.

Billy grumbles and dumps his bowl in the sink, and leaves to his room to avoid babysitting his sister.

He’s starting to realize that Max had set him up. The real reason she made the stupid bet wasn’t to torture him with driving her and her nerds around, but because she thought she could hook him up with Steve.

But that doesn’t matter, because he's not pining after Steve Harrington, no matter what his little sister says.

Sure, Steve had invited him over to his place a few times, but that was just a courtesy since they were friends from basketball. And it didn’t matter that he happened to be the prettiest boy Billy ever laid eyes on, with his soft hair the color of chestnut and his doe eyes just as dark, and his long nose and his pretty red lips and-

Okay, maybe he was a little into Harrington, but again, he wasn’t going out with his best friend just because his step sister dared him to.

He can’t just call the bet off, but he’s not willing to lose either. The clock was ticking, Valentine’s Day getting closer and closer, so he’d just have to settle on somebody soon.

Admittedly, it would make things a lot easier just to cheap out and use magic, after all, he’d been trying and failing to get a date for weeks, but that could be dangerous, and Billy’s been barred from using his powers for a few years now anyways.

His father was ashamed to have a freak for a son, so ever since Max and her mother came around, he wasn’t actually supposed to use any magic at all anymore, not even for the most insignificant of things. Hell, with how tight of a leash Neil kept on him, his step sister wasn’t even technically supposed to know he’d inherited the knack from his mother.

He doesn’t really listen to that rule, but there’s no way for Neil to keep tabs on that kind of thing, so he still puts a charm on his and his sisters bedroom doors every night to keep unwanted guests out, and he still uses spells for his convenience whenever he can get away with it.

In all honesty, he could do without that stuff. Incantations were boring, spells were too basic. His favorite, the one thing he misses having the liberty to do, that’s got to be potions.

Before his mother’d left him behind, ran off to live the uninhibited life of a free spirit every witch dreamed of having, she had been very proud that Billy had taken after her in his powers, and in his skill for potion making especially.

They would make them together a lot of the time, huddled up down in the basement when his dad wasn’t home so she could show him the ropes and teach him all the recipes she knew.

He’d caught on real quick, well enough that she didn’t need to hover after the first few attempts at one type. Sometimes he wishes he’d been less proficient for just a little longer, so she’d have had a reason to stay and keep helping him.

Among their most common to make though were potions of luck and protection, elixirs, anything positive really. His mother may have also, on occasion, made a more powerful potion, one to keep under the pillows, in a flask on her hip, to spike her husband's coffee with every morning, just so Neil couldn’t hurt her or her son, but Billy was sworn to secrecy on that one.

Under his bed he still had a trunk full to bursting with everything of his mothers’ he had been able to keep, including their already prepared potions. Rows and rows of intricate crystal bottles, some still full to the top while others had only a few drops left, depending on how useful they were, all neatly displayed along with the rest of the memories of his mother.

She absolutely never allowed him to make anything dangerous, the first thing she ever taught him was to always keep hate out of his magic, so she’d let him practice more complicated and powerful potions with something a little less destructive.

Something like love potions.

It becomes his sort of trademark, the earthy smell of rose hips and cinnamon clinging to his skin from hours bent over their big cauldron they kept stored away. Even now, without having brewed anything for almost a year since they’d moved houses, it still lingered, like an aura.

They made up for some of his best work, the hardest of the love potions coming easier to him than the easiest of the medicinal ones. The best he’d ever made was a platonic love potion that his mom let him use the teensiest drop of to stop a fight between his friends at school, and to this day he was still proud of that one.

His mom had always said it made sense that that would be where he excelled, loving with his whole heart was just in his nature, and his craft was the reflection of that. In the same sense, it comes as no surprise when he’d stopped being able to brew anything stronger than potpourri after she’d walked out on him and broke that big heart right in two.

He didn’t know if keeping every of the potions that he made was genuinely because of their potential usefulness, like he tried to convince himself, or if it was a way to hold onto a time when he was still good at what he did. A time when he was happy.

Were he going to use one of those potions he kept stashed away, as Max had not so subtly suggested, he knows exactly which one he would choose. Not number six, not number twenty-seven, he would need number nine.

Not that he would, because he refuses to use his magic for petty relationships. Yet another thing his mom had drilled into him from the start was to never use his gift to take advantage of other people.

But then another day passes, and Billy's got to at least consider it, if not only for the sake of him not having to provide chauffeuring services to his least favorite bratpack.

In all reality, it wouldn’t be so bad to date Steve, he was nice enough and cute enough, but he feels they were sort of of the same polarity. They could get along just fine now, but there was some force, some energy between the two that kept them apart.

For every step they take forward, say, Steve agreeing to keep his magical secret from the moment they met, they have to take one back.

That fact had been well established in his mind since the moment he noticed himself making heart eyes; he and Steve just weren’t going to work out. Not after months of oblivious pigtail pulling, not after pushing Steve out of his own social circle, and definitely not after their fist fight in November.

Billy thinks he takes rejection from Tommy and Carol and everyone else in stride, but Steve wasn’t like them. The relationship they already had teetered on the line between rivals and friends, always one argument away from going back to that place, and Billy’s unwilling to lose that constant.

Of course, he wouldn’t have to worry about rejection and ruining friendships if he used magic.

But that was wrong. Number 9 was the strongest of the strong. It was said that it was powerful enough to make oil and water mix, but even then its effects only lasted for exactly twenty minutes. The jig’d be up quick, and his pretty boy would be right back to hating him.

There was always the slightest chance too that it were brewed just right, and Steve would love him forever, the bond that would form between them the moment he drank from Billy’s magic maybe enough to last, despite their differences. It wasn’t guaranteed to turn out bad, so maybe, just maybe, he’d give it a shot.

Godammit, had Max gotten in his head.

~~~~~

Billy knows he’s an idiot, a complete and total dumbass for showing up to the party with a crystal vial in his pocket, but he can’t help it.

There’s no guarantee he’s even going to use it, it’s just in his pocket as a sort of security blanket. He doesn’t even catch a glimpse of Steve anywhere among the crowd, so he sees no harm in it.

Well, at least not until someone, he’d have to guess it was Tommy, slips a hand into the pocket of Billy’s jacket, apparently able to sense a bottle from a mile away, and steals it. Like it’s just his own secret stash of alcohol instead of the most powerful piece of magic he’d sure as hell ever owned, let alone to have ever been used in Hawkins, a traditionalist town known for its distinct lack of witchcraft.

Only he doesn’t notice that it’s been swiped, not until he catches a glimpse of the gentle pink glow that only he could see in someone else’s hand from across the room, hovering just inches above the punch bowl.

He’d like to think he’s pretty powerful in his craft, he'd been raised by a witch who’d in her time been strong enough to get kicked out of her coven for threatening the High Priest, but in that moment he just sort of freezes.

There’s an infinite number of spells he could’ve used; he knows how to stop time, how to recall objects, and about a thousand and one other handy little ways to stop the vial from being overturned into that bowl.

And yet, his brain freezes up, and before he can do anything about it, there’s a thick fog rolling off of the bowl, and the air smells sweet and sticky like ladies perfume, and the liquid is shining all bright pink.

Billy is officially screwed.

It’s one thing for a single person to drink a love potion, but mixing it with any other liquid? That shit turned into a weapon.

He knows he’s not gonna make it in time, but he’s at least gotta try to stop it, get people as far away from it as possible. He muscles his way across the room, pushing past the crowd of teenagers to try to get to it first. “Nobody fucking touch the punch.”

But his voice calling over the crowd draws their attention to him, and there’s at least fifty hollow gazes fixed right on him. Judging by the looks on their faces, the pinpoint pupils and the awe stricken smiles, he’s too late.

There’s one breathless moment where Billy realizes what's about to happen and tries to back away before all hell breaks loose, but all at once they all surge forward trying to get their hands on him.

Momma didn’t stick around long enough to teach him how to discharge a potion, and he wasn’t going to make it the whole twenty minutes in this herd. The front door is his only escape.

It’s so dark in the room, other than the light from the potion’s ambience, that he can’t make out who’s who, whose lips those are on his neck, whose hands are on his hips and tangled up in his hair, so he just trudges forward as best he can, trying to shake each person off, only to get another wrapped around him.

But, in the magic induced state, they’re strong, and they don’t want to let him go. Fingernails dig into his skin, arms wrap tight around his waist, any way they can hold onto him to try keep him from moving any closer to that door, they do.

It’s like walking in gelatin, so many people trying to stop him, and it takes him way longer than it should, but he makes it to the door.

Before he can open it, someone’s pushing his back up against it and reaching a hand up under his shirt. Another someone presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He feels blindly for the door knob and gets it in his hand after a few attempts, the ordeal being all the harder when there were so many people who wanted those hands on them, and twists it.

The rush of cold air from outside and the lights from the streetlight on the sidewalk helps a little to dilute the strength of the potion, weakening just enough the grip of those under his influence that he can wriggle out and slam the door shut behind him.

He keeps his back pressed against it, his arms holding on to either side of the door frame as tight as he could so nobody else can get out. Checking his watch, there were still about seven more minutes until the potion would wear off.

He could see the faintest glow of pink light shining from under the door and behind the curtains on the front window, and he thought about what they were doing without him. Probably talking about how he was the coolest, the ones who’d gotten their hands on him bragging.

No one but him would remember what happened anyways.

To make his escape, wait out the rest of the potion's effects, and hightail it before anybody remembered he was even here, well, that would have just been too easy. Because this is Billy Hargrove, so of course, at that very moment, who would approach the house but Steve fucking Harrington.

“Hargrove?” He looks confusedly up at Billy, and climbs a few of the porch steps to ask him, “What’re you doin’ out here man?”

“Party’s a bummer. Thinking ‘bout ditching.” The nonchalance he’s able to portray in his voice is in direct contrast with the way his hair is frizzed out and his clothes are all messy from what happened inside.

Steve doesn’t seem to pay it any mind though, because he offers him a smile, and responds to Billy like this situation didn’t look weird at all, with him sprawled out over the door and in such bad shape. “Mind if I join you? Wasn’t really looking forward to all the people tonight anyways.”

“Uh, if you give me,” Billy turns his wrist, still not letting go of the door, and reads the time on his watch again, “three and a half minutes, then we can blow.”

Steve leans a little to try to see in the window. “Is somethin’ going on?”

“Nothin’, nothin’ just uh, told Tom I’d stay ‘til quarter after.” It’s a bullshit excuse, Steve already knows he and Tommy aren’t even that close, but Billy just focuses on counting down the seconds and doesn’t think too much about it. “And…. we’re good.”

“You are so weird, dude.” Steve remarks while he waits for Billy on the steps. He looks back over his shoulder when they’re walking away but visibly shrugs it off. “Did you drive?”

“You know I don’t park my baby on the street.” His prized Camaro had yet to make an appearance at one of these parties, for a platitude of reasons, but the main one being that he might have to break his mother’s golden rule and put a curse on someone if his beauty got so much as a scratch.

“Figures.” Steve remarked. He didn’t think the Camaro was all that, thought it was too loud and too fast.

His BMW isn’t too far off, showing up late meant he had to take a street spot instead of cramming into the driveway, but that only made it easier to get out.

While he starts it up, he asks Billy, “Where are we going? I picked last time.”

“Far away from here as possible.” He mutters in response.

Before he pulls away from the curb, Steve asks, “Did something happen, Bills? You’re acting all, weird.” There was genuine concern laced into his voice, none of that playfulness that they usually had.

But for Billy, anything would be better than having to own up to what had happened. He’d have to admit to the whole, desperate for love, he used a potion he made when he was seven to try to make Steve Harrington fall for him, and that was not ideal, to put it simply.

Only, he felt obligated to explain, because he knew what Steve was thinking had happened. He knew too much about the sorts of things Billy told not a single other soul.

His magic was one thing. Where nobody was really supposed to know Hawkins got a new spell caster for the first time in ages, Steve had some grandma or someone who was a witch and had recognized that shit in a heartbeat.

Observational skills like that, it was no surprise he’d figured out the truth about his father too. About where the bruises and the scars came from.

So he knows that’s what Steve’s thinking right now, that Billy’s acting off because of something his dad did, and it would feel wrong not to tell him the truth, to be pitied when nothing even happened this time. Still, he’s not exactly thrilled about having to confess about the potion.

“Someone brought a fucking Number 9 to the party.” Billy flips the sun visor down to see himself in the little mirror there. There’s kiss marks all over him that he tries to rub off with his sleeve, but the leather doesn’t do much but make the skin flush.

“Shit, not a number nine.” Steve says it like he’s confident in it, but his gaze keeps flickering over to Billy to gauge his reaction. It’s clear that he has no idea what he’s talking about. “What's- what’s number nine?”

Billy snorts and explains, “Only the strongest love potion out there. Went straight into the punch.”

He doesn’t have much of a grip on the magical world, but he knew enough to guess that was a problem. “What kind of a dipstick would bring that?”

Billy stopped wiping at his face and looked over at Steve with that ‘come on, stupid’ look on his face. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe the only dipstick who walked away from the place covered in fucking lipstick.”

“Really?” There’s a teasing tone in his voice, like a parent who found out there kid had a crush, and it makes Billy want to sock him. “And who does Billy Hargrove need a love potion for?”

“For you.” It takes all the courage he has, but he admits it. His eyes flicker nervously between Steve and everywhere else, waiting for his response.

And what he gets is, “Pfft. You know I don’t need magic to get the ladies.” Let it be known that no one ever accused Steve of being the brightest.

As if he hadn’t noticed that Steve was a skeezer. As if his heart hadn’t already been broken a thousand times over because of it. “Yeah, no shit.”

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion, but maybe a little bit in denial too. “Then why’d you bring me a love potion?”

“Steve.” It sounds like a plea, an exhausted attempt to get him to understand, but Steve isn’t in on it.

“What?” Billy just sort of raises his eyebrows in response, and something about it makes it click in Steve’s head.

His mouth forms an ‘o’ shape, and when he speaks again, his voice is all breathless, “You were going to use it on me?”

“Doesn’t take a genius.” And that’s the end of it.

They don’t talk about it. Steve drives them out to the quarry in silence, occasionally looking over at Billy like he wants to say something, but doesn’t.

As soon as they get there, before Steve’s even got the chance to put the bimmer in park, Billy’s out of the car and sitting on the edge of the rocky lookout.

He needs a smoke, needs the burning in his lungs to distract him from the weight of what he had just admitted to Steve. His hands are shaking as he fumbles with a match, trying and failing to light the cigarette on three different matches before he decides to give up.

Steve taps his shoulder and hands Billy his zippo before sitting down next to him. “You didn’t have to.”

Billy lights it up and takes a long drag, giving Steve back his light with a cigarette as thanks, filling his lungs with as much smoke as he can before he can respond. “Have to what?”

“Try to use magic on me.” Steve’s staring down at his hands, calculating every last word he says. “You could’ve just asked.”

“Yeah, I know Harrington. It was creepy. Just drop it.” There’s a sharpness in that tone that hasn’t been there for months, and it makes the both of them wince.

Steve explains himself, hurt by the coldness, “No, I think it’s sweet! I mean, that you would do that for me.”

“Get over yourself. Was just messin’ around, wanted to see if I could do it.” That’s what gives him away. Billy was too sure of his own prowess for that to be all of it, and so Steve decides to press him for the truth.

“Don’t you want to know what I would’ve said though, if you asked me?”

“Honestly? No.” He really, really does.

Steve pretends like he doesn’t hear that and tells him anyways. “I like you Billy.”

It hitches his breath to hear that, but Billy’s got to be rational. “Yeah? You like me or the cinnamon?”

Steve’s face scrunches up in confusion. “What?”

“It’s an ingredient in the potion, Steve. Do you mean it or did you get a whiff of that shit somehow?” He still doesn’t look at him, just stares down at the churning water, and it registers with Steve that he doesn’t want to see absent admiration, pinpoint pupils, any sign that this isn’t real.

So he assures him, his voice as soft as it can be, “I mean it. I really really like you, and if you’re not gonna believe me, then- then I guess I’ll just have to prove it.“

Who would’ve expected Steve to make the first move? Stumbling, bumbling Steve Harrington, the one to lean in first. But he is, it’s him who uses those long fingers to turn Billy’s face towards his and presses their lips together.

If, you know, there wasn’t a more pressing matter at hand, like the fact that the boy he’d just tried to use love magic on was kissing him without the assistance of said magic, Billy might’ve been a little disappointed in himself to not be the one to initiate it.

But they’d have time for that argument later, about who did what when, right now his mind was more focused on not just sitting there, on moving his lips against the other boys and

It feels like forever before Steve pulls away to put a hand on the back of Billy’s head so he can bring their foreheads together.

Steve’s breathless as he says, “Wanted to do that since the first time I saw you in the parking lot.”

“Good. Didn’t want to have to brew any more.” Billy says without a hint of seriousness.

Steve nudges him with his elbow. “I’m trying to be romantic, you ass.”

“No seriously, hibiscus is super hard to come by around here, couldn’t afford to waste any on you.”

Crossing his arms, Steve fixes Billy with a stern look that makes him laugh.

“M’only teasin’ ya pretty boy.” He crumples his cigarette into the asphalt and puts his hand on Steve’s knee. “Kiss me like that again, would ya?”

And he does. Every time Billy asks, Steve’ll kiss him just like that first time, soft and gentle and sweet in a way he’s never had, no magic required.

Needless to say, Billy definitely won that bet.

#harringrove week of love #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #steve harrington #ej writer #story by ej!#this is based on a fraggles episode! I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity!#I thought I wasn’t going to like this but it turned out to be one of my favorites #even though it took way longer than it was supposed to lol #super proud of how it turned out though

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matrixaffiliate · 4 years

Text

Surreptitious

New Story! FFN and AO3

Lily doesn't think it will be that hard to hide she's been dating James for two years, and friends with him for five, but when she and James end up working together as temps every day, she finds out how intertwined with her boyfriend she really is.

@thisismegz shared this Tumblr post with me (thank you, darling!) from @women-inthe-sequel and it felt so very Jily =) So obviously, I had to write it for Jilytober! Enjoy!

Surreptitious

Lily chucked her bag down on the table in a rage. The fact that the order had been misdelivered was not her fault, but that didn't change she'd been thrown under the bus and blamed for it, not that this wasn't the first time she'd been framed for something that went wrong. It also didn't change that she'd been fired over it either.

Her phone buzzed and she sighed as she saw James' picture on her phone.

"Feel like cheering me up?"

"Always," James laughed. "What can I do for you today, Evans?"

"Slowly pull out the bowels of Rosier and Yaxley with a white-hot hook?" Lily fell down onto her bed and kicked off her shoes.

"Vicious," James' chuckle was throaty and Lily wished he was with her where she could feel it rumble through his chest.

"Well, they managed to finally get me fired, so it feels justified at the moment."

"They what?!" All laughter and teasing had gone out of his voice.

"They blamed another misdelivery on me, and I found out they'd been filing complaints against me that I didn't know about, and I swear that Riddle was in on it with them because he showed me documents stating that he'd notified me of those complaints and strikes against me, but I know he didn't." Lily took a deep breath to try and calm down, "None of that matters now though, they got me out and that was what they wanted. They won."

"No!" James almost shouted. "I'll talk to Dad, I'm sure his solicitor will take your case! We'll sue them for everything they own!"

Lily smiled, knowing James was on her side always made her feel better.

"No, they aren't worth it. I'll report them, sure, but I'm not going to sue them over it."

"Lils, look," he went to say more, but Lily cut him off.

"No, James. I'm not going to waste my mental energy on them anymore. I'm going to take a day to calm down and then I'm going to get on to trying to find a new job."

James let out a long breath. "Love, I know you don't want to waste the mental energy on them, but wrong is wrong. Would you let me just mention it to Dad?"

Lily rolled to her side and shifted her phone, "I guess that would be fine, but I'm not personally taking them to small claims, alright?"

"Right," James sounded relieved. "I promise you won't be involved at all."

"Thanks, darling," Lily felt her stomach grumble and she groaned. "Needing a new job aside, I need to find something to eat."

"I'll call Mum, I'm sure she'll be happy to cheer you up with food."

Lily's stomach grumbled again, "Are you sure that she wouldn't mind cooking for us?"

James laughed, "Lils, my dear mother always tells me I'm not home often enough, and then immediately asks when I'm going to settle down and give her grandchildren."

Lily grinned, "See she never says anything about you settling down to me."

"Yes, because she wants to keep you around. Trust me, if she didn't like you, she'd be doing everything in her power to push you to marry me tomorrow." James paused, "So am I calling Mum or not?"

Lily pushed up off her bed. "Yeah, call your parents and ask if she'd make me some daal makhani to drown my sorrows in."

"You can count on it," James' smile was evident in his voice as they disconnected the call, and Lily internally admitted that she was looking forward to seeing it after the nightmare of a day she'd endured.

So, when Lily pulled up to the Potters' large home thirty minutes later, she couldn't stop the excitement bubbling in her chest, and even with the awful day, she smiled as she pushed open their front door.

"James?"

"You're here!" James came nearly running around the corner into the entryway, sweeping her into a tight embrace.

Lily took in a deep breath as she held him close. The smell of James mixed with the smells coming from Mia's kitchen were pulling all of the stress out of her and replacing it with warmth and happiness.

"Come eat while it's still hot!" Mia called from the kitchen.

Lily laughed and kicked off her shoes before taking James' hand to walk into the kitchen.

"Laadli," Mia hugged her, "Eat up, and there are jalebis too. A little sugar will make everything better."

"Thank you, Mia," Lily held on to this wonderful woman who had stepped in when her mum had passed on.

The family dinner was exactly what she needed. Lily finally felt calm, and while she still didn't know what she was going to do about a new job, she at least felt like life was going to get better, for no other reason than she was surrounded by these wonderful people.

"James," Monty handed him his plate as James cleared the table. "The new client at the agency finalized their paperwork for their trial run."

"You're taking on another company at the temp agency?" Lily asked.

James nodded, "Yep, which means 90 days of me pretending I'm not a part-owner."

Lily laughed. After they'd finished university, Monty brought James and Sirius on to the temp agency he started decades ago, but part of the deal was they would be guinea pigs to each new client to be sure the real temps would be treated well. Since they'd just signed a company a month ago and Sirius was currently being their guinea pig, James would need to take this new one.

"What does this company do?" Mia picked up her glass and drained it before handing it to Lily as she helped James clear the table.

"They're a paint manufacturer," Monty said, "But they want the temps for their customer service department."

"You told them they'd only get one, right Dad?" James looked over from the kitchen sink.

"I did," Monty nodded, "they asked me to try my best to get them two."

Mia looked at Lily for a moment and then smiled. "You should be the second temp!"

It took Lily a full ten seconds to realize what Mia was implying, but James beat her to a response as he shut off the water.

"No, Mum, Lily's an industrial engineer who deserves to find a job that will actually utilize her and not pin her to arranging low-level deliveries. She doesn't need to be working customer service while I evaluate this client."

"And why not, chotu?" Mia turned on him. "This way she gets a paycheck while she looks for something new and when she does find it, she can leave; no one expects a temp to stay forever."

"Mum," James' hand went straight for his hair.

"Mia, that's really sweet of you," Lily cut in but then Mia turned her mom-eyes on her.

"Laadli," she cupped Lily's face in her hands, "This will be good for you, give you something to think about other than that awful place that didn't appreciate your work. And you'd be with James so you'd have fun. Learn from an old woman, Lily, have more fun in your life."

Looking into Mia's wise umber eyes and feeling her small warm palms on her cheeks, Lily felt almost like she was under a magic spell.

"Well, if Monty thinks it's alright."

Mia held her eyes and kept her face in her hands. "Of course, it's alright, Monty will see to it."

A part of Lily's brain was sure that Mia was exercising some force of will over her, but there was something so comforting about it that she decided to ignore how much this felt like a magic spell.

"Then, I think it'd be fine. It'd give me time to find a position that I really like instead of settling for the first thing that pops up."

"There, see," Mia pulled her hands away from Lily's face with a smile, "We can always find blessings in disguise if we're willing to look for them."

"Lils," James stepped between her and his mum. "If you want to do this, we can make it happen, but don't feel pressured into it. You don't have to."

Mia tsked loudly behind him.

Lily gave him a small smile. "If you're alright with it, then it would really help me out."

James' returning smile lit up his face. "Eh, I guess I can handle it. At least I'll have someone to talk to, yeah?"

"And I suppose I could handle having to talk to you every day." She smirked up at him.

"Well then, that's settled." Monty chuckled, "James, I'll put you in charge of the paperwork and arrangements for all of this."

James shot his dad a grin, "I'll have it all settled by tomorrow evening. You're looking at the two newest temps for Royal Paint."

It wasn't a week later that Lily was pulling up to her new place of work - at least until she could find a new position in her field if expertise.

She saw James step out of his car and she waved him over. There was one thing that she wanted to clarify with him before they started this.

"Morning Evans," James moved to kiss her but she put her hand on his chest and stopped him.

"Does this place know you're one of the owners of the temp agency?"

James shook his head, "No, everything Sirius and I do is on the back end except for this, so no one knows we aren't real temps when we show up."

Lily nodded, "Alright, in that case, I think it would be a good idea for us not to broadcast our relationship while we're here for these three months."

"Really?"

"I don't want to cause any drama, and Sirius isn't available to switch with you if they have a problem with us being together. I think it would make everything easier and safer if we kept our relationship between us."

James sighed. "Are you sure?"

"Please, James," Lily smiled up at him. "I promise when we aren't here, I'll be the best girlfriend in the world."

James laughed down at her and laced his fingers with hers. "You already are but if it'll make you happy, then sure, while we're working with this client, we're just two temps, not a couple."

"Thank you," Lily looked around the parking lot and upon finding it empty, quickly pressed up and kissed him. "I suppose we should get this show on the road then, eh?"

"Yeah," James stole one more kiss, "We don't want to be late on our first day."

Lily and James walked into the grey cement brick building and were welcomed by the receptionist.

"Hi, I'm Amy, you must be our new temps."

"That's us," James nodded and Lily forced her down chuckle as she watched James start scanning the office. He may be wearing the badge of temp for the next three months, but James would never be able to stop being the shrewd businessman that helped his dad's company thrive.

"Just a minute and I'll fetch Scott, he's our manager." She clicked a couple of times on her computer before grabbing her desk phone. "Scott, they're here." She set the phone down and turned back to Lily and James with a happy smile.

"He'll be right out."

Not a moment later a man came walking around the corner.

"Welcome! Welcome to your new home away from home! Welcome to Royal Paint!"

"Thank you," James stepped forward and shook Scott's hand. "I'm James Potter."

"And I'm Lily Evans," Lily stepped forward as she watched James turn to introduce her. That was her first hint that hiding their relationship was going to be harder than she initially thought.

"James and Lily!" Scott shook her hand. "I can't wait to get to know you. I'm Scott and I hope you'll view me as your mentor and friend while you're here."

Lily nearly balked at the difference between Scott and Riddle. At least Scott didn't seem to be out to fire her from the get-go.

"Thank you," she pulled her bag higher up on her shoulder and smiled up at James.

"Look at you two," Scott stepped back and looked at the two of them, "You look like you could be on the cover of one of my wife's romance books. Don't you think so, Amy?" He turned to the receptionist.

Amy laughed, "You're a hopeless romantic, Scott."

"And I'm usually right about this sort of thing."

Lily felt something akin to panic gripping her stomach. "I'm sure that Mr. Potter and I can keep things professional."

James covered his laugh with a forced clearing of his throat and Lily fought the urge to glare at him.

"Don't be ridiculous," Scott laughed. "Royal Paint was started by a husband and wife team. We have no policy against workplace relationships. But let's get the two of you settled in and then you can get to know one another before you make decisions about first dates and whatnot."

He turned and led them down the corridor.

"Mr. Potter?" James whispered as he smirked down at her.

"I panicked!" Lily glared at him.

Before James could comment further, Scott had led them into the next room.

"This will be your launching pad!" Then he gestured to the two women sitting at desks that faced each other. "And these lovelies are the crew that will take you into the stars! Gladys and Arabella, this is James Potter, and here is Lily Evans. James, Lily, this is Gladys Vance and Arabella Figg."

The women smiled at them but before either could say anything, Scott had moved to the single desk to the left of Gladys and Arabella's workstations.

"This is where the two of you will be set up. I'm sorry but we couldn't get a second desk in here soon enough. You'll only need to share for a wee bit, but we'll get you your own desks in a jiffy. The two computers seem to fit alright, though, so shouldn't be a problem. Let's get you logged into those computers and Gladys and Arabella will train you up on what you need to do."

"Scott, slow down, you're spinning like a top." Gladys chuckled. "We'll take care of these two, you go do the manager things you do."

"Off you go," Arabella stood and made a shooing motion with her hands.

"I'll leave you in their capable hands then," Scott bowed awkwardly. "And if you need anything at all just step right into my office. My door is always open."

"Thank you, Scott." James chuckled.

Arabella shooed Scott again and he saluted before stepping out of the room.

"Well, you survived our fearless leader," Arabella chuckled. "We run things a bit more down to earth here in customer service."

"He's very enthusiastic, isn't he?" Lily laughed.

"Don't you two look cute standing like that?" Gladys smiled at them.

Lily looked over and realized she and James had gravitated towards each other, standing so close they were nearly touching.

"Oh, sorry," she stepped away from James, "I didn't mean to crowd you."

James' hand shot to his hair, "No problem, barely noticed."

Gladys and Arabella shared a long look but didn't say anything more. They helped James and Lily get logged into their computers and showed them how to respond to online inquiries from the website and how to find the answers. The job was so simple that by lunch Lily felt not only like she knew what she was doing, but that she'd been doing it for ages.

"Did the two of you bring lunch?" Gladys came to stand at their desk. "Because either way, Arabella and I are taking you out."

Lily laughed, "I brought a can of soup, but I have a hunch it'll keep till tomorrow."

"Are you sure about that?" James laughed, "Storing things in metal, who knows what could happen."

Lily laughed in spite of herself but stopped just before she went to playfully shove him.

"You two are cute," Arabella grinned at them. "Did either of you ever watch the American version of The Office? You two could be Jim and Pam."

"Oh, yes!" Glady exclaimed, "Lily's got red hair like Pam, and James instead of Jim!"

Lily looked at James and laughed, "I don't suppose you want to be called Jim?"

James rolled his eyes, "Do you know I threaten my brother with roasting him over a low fire for it?"

Lily grinned, she did know. "Oh, but it could be fun, couldn't it?"

James adjusted his glasses and leant across the desk, "Depends on your definition of the word fun, Lilian."

"Do you know that isn't my name?" Lily rolled her eyes. He did know.

"And now you know that Jim isn't mine," James countered with a smirk.

"I like them better than Jim and Pam," Arabella's voice brought Lily back to the present and she silently kicked herself for slipping into the banter she and James had built their relationship on.

Trying to avoid the habits that had formed from two years of dating plus another three years of friendship before that might just prove impossible.

And that premonition proved to be exactly right. She couldn't stop herself from the unconscious part of her brain that reached across their desk to touch his hand or his thigh. She could never keep herself from standing directly next to him. And she definitely couldn't stop the way her eyes would seek him out naturally. It was just so much a part of her to be connected to James.

How did she ever think she could hide this?

"Hey," she whispered across the desk three weeks after they'd started with Royal Paint. "I have to take my car in to have it serviced tonight, can you give me a ride tomorrow?"

"Of course, do you need a ride back from the service station too?" James nodded.

"I was going to request an Uber but if you want, we can make a night of it."

"Sure," James grinned at her. "We could make something at yours and watch a film or something."

"Sounds perfect," Lily moved to grab his hand but caught herself, opting to take a sticky note from the stack instead.

"How is the job hunt going?" James smirked at her.

Lily rolled her eyes at his smirk even as she grinned at him.

"I had a firm call for an interview and my references."

"That's amazing!" James' whisper went loud and Lily giggled.

"Riveting conversation over there dears?" Gladys smiled over at them.

"Just wondering when you're going to invite The Pips over and finally admit that your last name is really Knight." James smiled over at Gladys and Arabella.

Lily trained her gaze back on her computer and the mind-numbing work of answering customer questions.

"I'll be at yours at half six to go drop your car," James whispered and knocked her foot with his.

She looked up to see that smile that still made her stomach flutter.

"Thanks."

But James bringing her to work the next morning ended up being more of a to-do than Lily had expected it to be.

"Well, hello there!" Arabella stepped out of her car as Lily and James stepped out of his.

"Hi Arabella," Lily tried not to groan.

"Is your car alright dear?" Arabella looked as pleased as one of her cats might look had it caught a mouse.

"It just needed to be serviced. James was nice enough to bring me to work this morning."

Arabella nodded understandingly but her smile seemed to grow wider. "What a nice thing to do."

"What was a nice thing to do?" Scott walked up behind Arabella and Lily thought she might die.

"Lily's car needed to be serviced and James was kind enough to bring her to work today."

"A proper gentleman," Scott walked up and patted James on the back. "Well done, my boy!"

"Lily ought to take him to lunch to thank him," Arabella looked at Scott, "Don't you agree? They've proven they're hard workers, I think they could do with a long lunch today."

"Capital idea, Arabella! Yes!" He turned to James and Lily, "I agree, take a long lunch the both of you!"

Lily looked at James who was putting a great deal of effort into not laughing.

"Alright, then," Lily looked at Scott and Arabella helplessly.

Clearly, she'd need to rethink her original plan of hiding their relationship, seeing as everyone wanted them to have one.

"This whole thing has gone pear-shaped!" Lily huffed as she got into James' car for their enforced lunch date.

"Hey," James leant over and pulled her in for a slow kiss. "It'll be fine." He smiled as he pulled away. "You're going to go to your interview next week and they're going to wonder how they've ever managed without you. Then they'll hire you, and you'll be working for an amazing firm before you know it."

Lily kissed him again and let the warmth that had always been James ease some of the stress away.

"You know," James put the car in gear. "We could play this to our advantage."

"Play what to our advantage?" Lily fiddled with the radio.

"We could be the new office romance." James knocked her hand away from the radio as she tried to skip over a song he liked that she didn't.

"The new office romance?"

"Sure," James slapped her hand away again. "We could stop trying to hide the way that we're practically an old married couple, to quote my mum, and just be us."

"You're mum calls us an old married couple?" Lily laughed.

"Of course, she does."

"Why, of course?"

"Because she's my mum," James shrugged.

Lily grinned as the idea started to form in her mind. "We could sneak around like we did our last week of university."

James looked over at her with a smirk. "That poor custodian, I'm pretty sure we nearly gave him a heart attack."

Lily giggled, "I think you're right; this could be fun."

"Yes, and then I can stop smacking myself every time I go to touch you as well." James reached over and grabbed her hand.

"I know right? It's like I'm in love with you or something." She teased.

James parked in front of the restaurant and leant over to kiss her again. "That makes one of us, then."

Lily smacked his chest and pulled away but James caught her around the neck and kissed her passionately.

"I love you," he murmured as he slowed their pace.

"You better," Lily laughed and pulled back. "So, we're doing this? We're going to be Royal Paint's new office romance?"

"Yeah, let's have a bit of fun."

And they did. Lily didn't stop herself from making faces at him across their desk when she got bored. She didn't stop herself from asking James about their plans for the weekend. She didn't stop herself from walking out of the office with him after work. She didn't panic when Gladys mentioned how sweet it was that she was hitting it off so well with James. When Scott stepped in to tell them he'd managed to secure another desk for them if they wanted it, she agreed with James' insistence that they didn't need it.

The one thing Lily did still stop herself from bringing up at work when they were around their coworkers was her efforts to find a real job, and how things were going for James in his real job. Just because he was playing temp didn't mean he didn't still have his real job and everything that went with helping his dad run the temp agency.

She was trying to discreetly check her email on her phone to see if the company that had interviewed her and called all three of her references had made a decision on hiring her yet or not when she was spooked by James swearing under his breath.

Lily glanced quickly over at Arabella and Gladys before whispering to James.

"What's wrong?"

"There's a problem at the office. One of our temps went rogue." James' hands went to his hair before they immediately dropped to his phone to type.

"Is it going to be alright?" Lily leant closer.

"If Sirius and I get there in the next hour then probably." He looked up at her. "I've got to go. Do you want me to make something up for you to get Scott to let you out early too?"

Lily shook her head. "I don't want to make him suspicious of why you're leaving and then not let you go. I'll stay and finish the workday."

James grabbed his backpack and threw it over his shoulder before coming around the desk to kiss her. "Thank you, I'll text you once this is resolved."

Lily kissed him once more before he slipped out the door.

"They're already kissing goodbye," Arabella commented with a grin.

"They're meant to be," Gladys laughed, "Where is your prince off to?"

Lily rolled her eyes at them, "His brother needs him, he's going to see if Scott will let him out early."

"Oh, Scott is a pushover for that sort of thing. He probably would have let you go too if you'd asked." Arabella pulled a cat hair off her jumper.

"I wouldn't have been much help," Lily shrugged.

"So, how's having a new boyfriend been?" Gladys pulled her coffee cup to her lips and smirked at Lily.

"I'm rather enjoying it," Lily laughed and turned from her computer. It was becoming apparent that the two wanted to talk more than they wanted to work right now, probably because James wasn't there.

"I can imagine," Arabella winked at her. "Have you spent much time together over the last month and a half?"

"I guess we have," Lily tried to think of what sort of pace a regular couple would take, a couple that didn't have the history she and James had.

They'd been at odds in their first year of university, but when everything had happened with Severus and the Marauders at the end of first year, well, Lily realized that she'd been dead wrong about who her friends were. Thankfully, James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were more than happy to put that year behind them and welcome her into their friendship. She and James had been friends for the last three years of their time at university; his parents were who she relied on when her mum passed away, joining her dad on the other side and leaving her with just Petunia and Vernon for living family members; James introduced her to Marlene and Emmeline and Mary and Bridget; the Marauders and everyone attached to them had become her family.

It was the last day of exams their final year at university that James had found her alone and somehow the two of them had finally stopped dancing around their feelings for one another and snogged the daylights out of each other.

They'd been inseparable for the last two years.

But how did one act like they hadn't been in love with the man they were with for years?

"You look unsure? Is everything alright?" Arabella frowned at her and Lily silently cursed herself for not having better control over her emotions playing out over her face.

"Oh, er, yes, I just, I, er, I'm waiting on an email." Lily reasoned she was a temp; she probably didn't need to hide that she was looking for something permanent; it was just James' position that she needed to keep to herself.

"A good email or a bad one?"

"I suppose I'm hoping it's a good one, but it could be a bad one."

Gladys narrowed her gaze. "Lily, what sort of email is this?"

"The sort of email that could get me a position with an engineering firm," Lily watched the two women carefully and sighed in relief when they both cried out exuberantly.

"That's wonderful," Arabella laughed, "but won't you miss working with James?"

"I'll miss it," Lily nodded because truthfully, she would miss it.

Working with James this way had been exactly what she needed after the fiasco at her last position. It had been healing to be with him day in and day out. It had made her realize how much she needed him, how much she relied on him.

"Well, most people don't work with their partners; you'd be joining the ranks of the rest of us." Gladys chuckled. "I love my husband, but I wouldn't work with him for all the money in the world. We weren't meant to be business partners."

"Amen, to that," Arabella rolled her eyes.

It was a couple of hours later that James texted her that he and Sirius had sorted out whatever had happened with the rogue temp. He followed that text up with the sort of response that helped Lily see why Mia called them an old married couple.

James: Meet me at mine, I'm bringing dinner.

Lily smiled down at her phone and then jumped when Gladys' voice spooked her.

"Email or boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend," Lily chuckled. "He managed to sort out whatever was happening with his brother."

"And…"

"We're having dinner tonight," Lily looked up at the clock and sighed; it was still an hour before she could leave.

Gladys looked over at Arabella and something passed between the two.

"Pack up your things, deary, Arabella and I are going to bully Scott into letting you leave early."

"No, that's alright," Lily shook her head, "I can wait."

Arabella laughed, "No isn't an option I'm afraid. We're rather fond of you and James there, so I think we're going to get our way and get you on your way."

"Really, it's fine," Lily protested again.

"Oh stop with the propriety and have a little fun, Lily." Gladys stood up. "Let's get you off to that boy of yours."

What could she do? It was as if these two were in cahoots with Mia. Lily packed up her things and tried to hide behind her two bullies as they approached Scott's office.

"Scott, dear Scott," Gladys stuck her head in Scott's office.

Scott looked up and laughed, "Oh dear, the both of you, what am I giving in to today?"

"What a dear he is," Gladys grinned at Arabella before turning back to Scott. "You're going to tell this sweet child to get herself off to her new boyfriend right now."

Scott glanced back at Lily and winked at her.

"I suppose you'll let the entire office know how hard it was to wear me down?"

"Of course," Arabella nodded. "We had to make a fuss about what a wonderful employee she's been these six weeks."

"And we had to point out that it has been slow all day and that it definitely won't pick up to where Arabella and I can't handle in the next hour," Gladys added.

"And don't forget how we're all invested in Lily and James," Scott added absently as he looked at an email on his computer.

"Oh yes, that too," Arabella laughed.

Scott looked back up and blinked, "Lily? Why are you still here?"

Lily shook her head and smiled, "I'm on my way out."

"Give my best to James," Scott called out to her as she walked out the door and to her car.

Lily texted James that she had been forced out early and then drove to his flat. For a moment she thought she saw Monty and Mia in their car on her way, but she was past them before she had a chance to do a double-take.

Walking up to James' flat felt like home. The knowledge that he'd be on the other side of the door when she opened it wrapped her in a blanket of comforting domesticity. Lily wondered if maybe she should forgo renewing her lease when it was up in a couple of months.

She pushed open the door but stopped dead in the doorway.

The lights were turned off, but there were battery votives on the floor making a pathway towards the kitchen.

"James…?"

He didn't answer and Lily resisted the urge in her to turn on the lights. She blamed it on Gladys' and Arabella's and Mia's insistence that she have a little fun. Instead, Lily kicked off her shoes and set down her bag to follow the flickering lights guiding her further into the flat.

Every light was off and the curtains pulled tight over the windows, making the floor look like it was glowing with the little votive lights lined against it. Lily stepped into the kitchen and paused. The lights led to a chair, sitting dead center on the kitchen floor.

"I am not doing a seance with you, Potter," Lily looked around. She nearly screamed when her phone vibrated and sounded in her pocket.

James: Please just sit down Evans

It was followed by at least twenty eye-roll emojis.

Lily rolled her eyes and texted back.

Lily: Fine, but I will kill you if this is some sort of prank…

She included five devil emojis before hitting send and cautiously sitting down in the chair.

"Now what?" Lily called out and looked around.

James stepped quietly into the kitchen and grinned at her.

"You always suspect me," he leant against the doorway, his hand running through his hair.

Lily forced her eyes back to his face. "You've given me plenty of reasons to do so."

James laughed, "You know, I've been thinking about how nice it's been to see you every day, but now I'm wondering what I was thinking."

She rolled her eyes but laughed with him.

"I was actually thinking the same thing after you left today."

James' smile went soft and he moved slowly, purposefully towards her.

"Good," his voice was that low rumble that made Lily want to pull him flush against her.

Then James came to kneel in front of her and Lily suddenly couldn't breathe.

"What do you think we make sure we see each other every day, even after we finish our stint with Royal Paint?"

"James," she laughed, but it came out a breathless sound.

"Lils, will you marry me?" He slid a ring out of his pocket and held it out to her.

"Of course!" Lily couldn't stop laughing, even as James pressed up to kiss her, lifting her from the chair and lifting her feet off the floor.

"We should turn on the lights," James laughed with her.

"Why?" Lily finally started to get a hold of her laughter and was trying to move their kissing a little further forward.

"Mum and Dad should be here any minute. Dad's parents took him and mum out to dinner when he asked her to marry him. I told them we could do dinner, but that I wasn't asking you at a restaurant."

"Oh! I saw them on my way over!" Lily laughed. "Well, I guess we can keep this going when we get back."

James hummed as he kissed her again, "And we can talk about what we're going to do with this darn temp job."

Lily's phone buzzed in her back pocket and she jumped when James reached into her pocket and pulled it free to hand to her.

"I don't think we'll have to worry about it," Lily grinned down at her phone as she looked at the screen.

"Yeah?" James looked down at her phone.

"I got the position!" Lily laughed. "I'm engaged and I got my dream job on the same day!"

"Well," James kissed her, "While we're discussing good news, I have one more thing to add."

"What?"

"Dad and Sirius and I have been working on a surprise for you; we've managed to get Riddle and his cronies into a world of trouble that I don't think they'll be getting out of anytime soon." James' grin was wicked.

Lily narrowed her gaze, "There was no rouge temp, was there?"

"Sirius and I were the rogue temps, we bailed at work and went to make sure our plan went exactly as we wanted it. I doubt that your old place of employment will still have a license to practice business for much longer."

"I love you," Lily linked her arms around his neck and kissed him.

James pulled back to look down at her, one of his hands coming up to trace along her cheek before tangling in her hair.

"I love you too," and he kissed her.

#Surreptious #jilytober #jilytober 2020 #jily #jily fanfiction #jily fanfic #james x lily #james potter x lily evans #james potter #lily evans #muggle au #modern muggle au #jily muggle au #workplace romance #coworkers romance #fluff #romance #from a prompt

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imaginetonyandbucky · 4 years

Text

The Buy In

Chapter 2: Taking Out the Trash

by @dracusfyre

“So who exactly are these cops hassling?” Bucky asked the next day as he met up with a man called Kenton at a bodega on 6th. “The shops? Dealers?”

“The ladies,” Kenton 'call me KT' said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. KT was stocky and short, with an aggressive undercut and stud in his lip, looking more like an emo kid than a mob enforcer. “We don’t have dealers here.”

“Really? None?" When KT nodded, Bucky asked, "How come?”

When KT eyeballed him skeptically, Bucky said, “Look, it’s my first day, alright? I’m not from around here.”

“Everyone knows the boss hates drugs,” KT said, hitting the button for the crosswalk. “Like, hates. A few years ago he tried to run all the dealers out, but they kept coming back like weeds. Too much demand to keep them out for long, you know? So the boss figures, you don’t kill weeds by cutting them down, you kill them at the roots. So he started targeting the users, not the dealers. First, he bought up the local methadone clinic, set up a rehab house nearby, brought in a bunch of fancy docs. Puts the word out that anyone who wants to dry out can stay for free and gets a sweet deal when you get your ninety-day chip.”

Bucky frowned. “I remember that. The mayor cut the ribbon on the facility, right? I thought the city set up that clinic.”

“Ha!” KT said it like that, an actual ha. “The boss let them take credit for it, sure. But it was his idea and his money. Once he got the clinic up and running, he put the word out to all the dealers, making them an offer: sell him all your goods, give him your client list, and you get a new job that pays twice what dealing does.”

“What happens if the dealer doesn’t take the offer?”

“One day they find themselves on a cargo ship to Madagascar,” KT said, matter of fact. “Or Indonesia, or Kamchatka.” Bucky doubted that but kept it to himself; it was way more likely that the dealers got dumped in the river while Stark’s organization sold the drugs at a markup. But it was a good story. “Stoners can stay if they grow their shit locally,” KT continued, “but the party bros looking for bumps gotta get it somewhere else. But God help them if they make trouble, because the boss sure won’t.”

“Huh,” Bucky said, noncommittal. “So what are we doing today? Waiting for the cops to show their faces again?”

“Pretty much. Gonna talk to the ladies, then we’ll hang around and see if the pigs come back and let them know that their behavior is not appreciated.” A few more blocks down, KT knocked on an unassuming red door and led Bucky into a whole new world. He’d known when KT said ladies that he’d meant prostitutes and had braced himself for the worst: bare mattresses on the ground, barred windows, dull eyes and needle tracks. But what Bucky walked into looked more like the Waldorf than any brothel Bucky’d ever seen during his brief tour on Vice. Bucky tried not to stare as he took in the thick carpet and tasteful furnishings around the room, with women scattered around in groups chatting. Along one side of the room was a classy bar with mahogany wood and brass furnishings that had a few customers already despite the fact it was barely 5:30. KT approached the bartender, a petite but statuesque redhead with pinup curls wearing a corset that had, if Bucky’s eyes weren’t deceiving him, knives where the boning would be.

“Evening, Widow,” KT said, and the bartender gave him a grin as she slid a beer to the man across from her.

“Evening, gents,” she said, voice pure Georgia drawl. “So did the Iron Man himself send someone down to check on his chickadees?”

“Iron Man?” Bucky echoed in confusion. “You mean the Mechanic?”

“You must be new,” she said with amusement, and KT nodded. “He’s got lots of names, honey. He likes getting them and giving them. Bet he gave you a name, didn’t he?” she said, crossing her arms and leaning on the bar to give him an appreciative once-over. The pose made her look like she was going to spill out of her corset; didn’t do a thing for Bucky, but behind them the man with the beer walked into the back of a couch. “What does he call you?”

Ridiculously, Bucky felt his ears get hot. “Blue Eyes,” he said. “Probably like Jimmy Blue Eyes, I guess, but I don't know why. My name's not James.”

“It’s cuz of them pretty blue eyes of yours,” Widow said, and she laughed as Bucky felt the flush spread to his neck. “He must have taken a shine to you.”

“We're here about those cops you mentioned,” KT cut in, giving her cleavage a glance of appreciation but staying all business. “Stop teasing the help and give us the rundown.”

Widow gave Bucky another sultry smile and stood up straight. As she picked up a glass and rag and started polishing, the Georgia peach act fell away; her movements going from languorous to brisk. “Like I said to the boss, it was Rumlow and Rollins again,” she said, and Bucky’s eyebrows went up as even the accent disappeared. “They must think they got a pretty strong krishna to keep coming around here. They’ve got some of the new girls rattled. Came in just the other night trying to get a 'law enforcement discount,'" she said with a sneer, "and the only way we got them out of here without violence is Hawkeye got them too drunk to know if they were coming or going.” Widow tilted her head towards a man at the far end of the bar who looked like he was passed out, hat drawn down low over his eyes. “I wouldn’t have asked for backup if they weren’t cops, but.” She shrugged, and Bucky understood. Low level patsani, or even higher level enforcers, could disappear, but not a cop. “They also wanted a cut of what we pay to the Boss and wouldn’t listen when I tried to tell them it didn’t work like that.”

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked. "Doesn't work like what?"

Widow and KT shared a look. “He’s new,” he reminded her, and Widow smiled.

“Around here you don’t pay up, you buy in,” she said. “You’ll see.” She stepped away to take an order before Bucky could ask another question, so he turned back to KT.

“What are we going to do about the cops when they show up?” Bucky asked. Most times dirty cops got away with shaking down illegal businesses for money because it’s not like a bunch of criminals were going to rat them out to Internal Affairs. “Ask politely?”

“I have a few ideas,” KT said, sounding unconcerned. Bucky waited for him to say something else, but he apparently didn’t seem like sharing, so Bucky grunted and turned to scan the lounge.

While they’d been talking, a few more men, johns, Bucky assumed, had trickled in and were in conversation with the women, each of which were giving every indication that the man they were sitting next to was the funniest and most interesting man in the world. Guess that was one appeal of this place, Bucky thought; a man would never strike out here, and they probably spent good money to maintain the illusion that they were getting laid on their own merits. “Are all of the Boss's brothels like this?”

KT looked around like he was seeing the place for the first time. “Yeah,” he said, lifting one shoulder carelessly. “Boss invests in his people.”

Bucky supposed that made sense. Better margins in higher end prostitution. Still, it was strange to feel like he was hanging out in a hotel bar, complete with tipsy-looking couples disappearing into elevators to hook up. It was after 9 when the cops showed, still, stupidly enough, in uniform. Bucky suppressed the urge to curl his lip in disgust; these guys represented everything Bucky hated about his job, full of arrogance and spite and a thinly veiled hunger for violence. They were bullies, pure and simple, and Bucky hoped he would have a chance to punch one in the face. He could get away with it, too, if he told his superiors it was necessary to maintain his cover.

KT saw them the same time Bucky did; as they came closer to the bar, he slid off his barstool and put himself in their path.

“Who are you supposed to be?” The lead one sneered, looking down at KT, who was a good six inches shorter than the officer. “Are you supposed to be protecting these whores? You?” Bucky came up behind him to back him up and read the officer’s badge. Rumlow. He memorized his badge number and that of the second officer, Rollins.

“Welcome back, officers,” KT said with a faint smile. “How can we help you?”

“Last time we asked nicely for our money, and we didn’t get it,” Rumlow said, coming closer so he was looming over KT. “We also asked for some trade, and didn’t get that either. We’re not going to ask nicely again.”

“Let me buy you a drink,” KT said, taking a step backward and gesturing towards the bar. “And let’s have a conversation, yeah?”

“We’re not here for no fucking conversation,” Rumlow spat. “We’re here for our money and a good lay, not necessarily in that order.”

“Fine.” KT’s friendly tone disappeared and his posture changed, going from relaxed and open to a coiled, snakelike tension, ready for violence. Bucky had seen that stance before, in his hand to hand combat training class at the academy. “We’ll cut to the chase.” Widow was watching them intently, a throwing knife already in her hand. Movement out of the corner of his eye proved that the man, Hawkeye, wasn’t as passed out as he appeared to be; Bucky could see light reflecting off the barrel of something, aimed at Rumlow. “For you to be coming in here like this, swinging your dick around, two things gotta be true: you must have protection, some fish big enough that you aren’t afraid of the Mechanic, and that big fish knows you’re here and doesn’t care. If that’s the case, then your boss and my boss are going to have problems. But if either of those things is not true, you are in a world of shit.”

At that, Rollins stole an uneasy glance at Rumlow, who was still trying to stare down KT. It was quick, but it gave the game away – and KT knew it, because suddenly he smiled and relaxed, which made Rumlow scowl harder. “Busted,” he said. “It’s not going to be hard to find out who your protection is, officers. And I don’t think they are going to be happy that you are picking fights with the Mechanic. Am I right?”

“Fuck you,” Rumlow snarled, and swung at KT. But the smaller man was ready, and KT stepped to one side of the swing, then grabbed Rumlow’s wrist and pulled at the same time that he put a hand on the back of his head and shoved, sending the man stumbling. Textbook judo move, to Bucky's eyes. As his partner got his feet under him again, Rollins went for his gun but Bucky already had his hand on it, shoving back down into its holster.

“Let’s keep it a fair fight,” Bucky said in a low voice, and Rollins listened because Bucky’s other hand had a knife slid up under the bottom edge of his bullet proof vest.

“Don’t make this any worse than it already is,” KT was saying, Rumlow’s face bright red with fury. “The Boss will let bygones be bygones if you leave now and don’t come back, but if blood gets shed...” He shook his head.

Rumlow’s face was red and Bucky could tell that he was furious at having been humiliated by someone smaller and lighter than him. Bucky was afraid that he would go for his pistol, but instead he put his hands up like he was in a boxing ring. KT smiled faintly and just made a “come here,” gesture, and that’s when Bucky knew he was trying to piss him off. And it worked; Rumlow lunged, swinging with a tight haymaker that would easily have broken KT’s jaw.

If it had connected, that is. But instead of trying to block, KT dropped to one knee, ducking under the swing, and hit Rumlow in the dick with an elbow as he scooped his leg and stood, throwing Rumlow to the ground where he curled around himself, cursing incoherently with pain.

Bucky whistled long and low, smothering a laugh. KT laid that asshole out in seconds. He released Rollins and said, “You can have your turn now, if you want.”

“That’s assault on an officer,” Rollins snarled, trying to help Rumlow to his feet. “I should haul you down to the station for that.”

“Your buddy clearly started it,” Bucky said. “It’s not like you don’t have witnesses. I’d get out of here before he does anything worse.” Bucky didn’t know if it was the fact that Rumlow still couldn’t stand up straight or the way that everyone was staring at them, but Rollins seemed to know good advice when he heard it, because they did leave, shouting threats the entire way.

“Did you get all that?” KT called out after the door slammed shut behind them, heading back to the bar where the Widow’s knife had disappeared like she’d never drawn it in the first place.

“Every second,” Hawkeye rumbled, sitting up. The barrel that Bucky had seen was a high-end camera lens, not a gun; he’d been videotaping the whole encounter. “Uploading it to YouTube now. That should get them off the streets for a while.”

“That’s how the Boss likes to settle things,” KT said with satisfaction. When he noticed Bucky looking at him with confusion, he said, “Listen here, because this is important: the Boss doesn’t like us to kill people. We don’t do this whole ‘send our guy to the hospital, we send your guy to the morgue’ thing, got it? We send them to the poorhouse. The poor bastard gets so tied up in lawsuits, repossessions, revoked passports, suspended licenses, and investigations that he wishes he were dead. Then the Boss goes after the poor bastard’s boss, and that boss’s boss…mobsters, dons, whatever you want to call them, they don’t mind dying, but they never, ever want to be broke. You start threating their bottom line and they pay attention.”

“Seriously?” Bucky said skeptically. Stark’s file said that he had plenty of blood on his hands.

“Seriously. You might get a pass if you don’t start it, but if it happens again, he cuts you loose, and believe me, it doesn’t take the cops long to track you down. They are hungry for anything they can get on the Boss.”

“You don't say,” Bucky said blandly. "So now what do we do?"

"We're going to stick around until the ladies close up shop, make sure those two don't get any bright ideas to circle back." KT pulled out his phone and started typing in it as he got back on his barstool where the ice in his drink had barely had time to melt. "Hawkeye usually makes sure the clientele behave themselves, so you can have a drink, but don't proposition any of the ladies while you're working."

"Right." What a strange goddamn way to run a criminal enterprise. After a moment, Bucky took a seat beside him and accepted a drink menu from the Widow, whose mouth was curling like she could read Bucky's thoughts.

"You'll get used to it, Blue Eyes," she said. "I got a good feeling about you."

#tony stark #bucky barnes #tony x bucky #winteriron #no powers au #dracusfyre

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lilyvandersteen · 3 years

Text

The Christmas Guest Chapter 4

Author’s Note:

Thanks to @redheadgleek‘s Write a Little Every Day project, this chapter is done much earlier than I’d hoped, yay! Enjoy the snowball fight, and Blaine realising that (HUGE SPOILER) he might actually like Kurt for real. Who’d have thought, huh?

Read Chapter 1, Chapter 2 and Chapter 3 here on Tumblr, or read the story on AO3 or FF.net.

Chapter 4: Sweet Surrender

In spite of his nocturnal trip, Blaine woke up early, and decided to dress and get downstairs to see if Kurt needed something.

When he arrived in the living room, Kurt was sleeping peacefully. The snoring had stopped, and when Blaine checked his forehead, he was glad to find the fever had subsided too.

“Good, you must be feeling better already,” Blaine murmured, grabbing the blanket that had fallen off Kurt and tucking him in again carefully. “I’m going to let you sleep a little longer.”

As he tiptoed out of the room, he was greeted by Carole.

“Morning, Blaine! You’re up early!”

Blaine smiled at her. “Good morning, Carole. Yes, I’m an early bird. Always have been.”

“Best let the others sleep another while, or they’ll be grumpy. Come to the kitchen, we can make a nice breakfast for everyone.”

Burt came downstairs as soon as the smell of bacon started to spread.

“Bacon!”

Carole shook her head at him. “Not for you. We don’t want you to have another heart attack.”

“Just one rasher? It’s Christmas!”

“In two days.”

“Oh, come on! Please?”

Carole gave in. “All right. One rasher. But then I don’t want to hear any more complaints about the healthy food I’m serving you the rest of the week. Deal?”

Burt sighed. “Okay, okay.”

Carole winked at Blaine, who suppressed a snigger and busied himself with setting the table.

When he had nearly finished his plate, he heard a groan coming from the living room.

“Ah, Kurt is waking up!” Carole said. “I’ll make him some eggs too.”

“I’ll go see if he’s okay,” said Blaine.

He arrived just in time to keep Kurt from face-planting, and escorted him first to the bathroom and then to the kitchen.

After pouring Kurt a mug of tea and adding a generous spoonful of honey, Blaine sat down again to finish his own breakfast, smiling at how out of it Kurt still seemed. He didn’t seem to be sniffling or coughing anymore, though. That was good.

They made cookies after breakfast, and it made Blaine’s feeling as if he’d stumbled headfirst into a Hallmark Christmas movie even stronger. Kurt was clearly an experienced baker, whipping up two kinds of dough in no time, and letting Blaine eat the scraps.

Then Kurt’s stepbrother Finn arrived, all six feet plus of him, his size and demeanor reminding Blaine of the jocks who’d bashed him into hospital before he transferred to Dalton Academy, and he shrank into a corner until Carole introduced him to Finn and he got a smile and a hug from the gentle giant, who seemed genuinely pleased to meet him.

By the time they had all decorated the tree together, Blaine’s worries had evaporated, and he enthusiastically agreed to a snowball fight in the garden.

He and Finn were having so much fun goofing off that it took some time for them to notice that Kurt had joined them.

Unlike them, Kurt hadn’t chosen to just grab some snow, pack it together and throw it. No. Kurt had chosen stealth and strategy. He’d built a shield he could hide behind, he’d made towering stacks of snowballs and had even fashioned some kind of sling to be able to throw the snowballs further.

He also had deadly aim. His first snowball hit Finn straight in the chest, with so much force that he almost fell over.

“Uh oh,” Finn said. “Okay, man, we’re going to have to team up, or we’re toast.”

The two of them hid behind trees, but every time they ventured forth from their hiding place, they were pelted by such an onslaught of snowballs that they couldn’t get round to launching an attack of their own.

It took Kurt only ten minutes of this to wear them down. By then, their coats and trousers were white with snow and pretty much soaked through.

“Aw, man, this isn’t fun anymore!” Finn complained. “Kurt, why do you always take these games so seriously?”

Kurt appeared from behind his snow shield, his clothes as good as pristine, his stance regal and his eyes blazing with determination. Though Blaine had suffered just as much as Finn and was just as ready to give up the fight, he thrilled to this version of Kurt, who looked magnificent. It lit a flame somewhere within and made him forget all about his freezing fingers and toes.

“Do you surrender?” Kurt asked, his chin up and his back rigidly straight.

And ugh, the steel in his voice made the fire inside Blaine burn even brighter.

Finn shrugged. “I guess. I’m going back in.”

“I surrender,” Blaine answered, not entirely capable of keeping a quiver out of his voice.

Something sparked into Kurt’s eyes, and he started coming towards Blaine without looking away even once, but a mere two foot from him, he seemed to change his mind and veered off towards the house. “Let’s get inside, Carole is going to make us hot chocolate.”

Blaine felt himself deflate. What had he expected to happen, exactly? Why was he all a-tingle like this? And what was this strange energy between him and Kurt?

A sudden gust of wind made him shiver and hurry to the back door. Hot chocolate sounded heavenly.

When Blaine came in, Finn was complaining again, this time about the seating arrangements in the living room. As victor of the snowball fight, Kurt had claimed the big sofa for himself and Blaine, and forbade Finn to squish in too.

“You can take the loveseat,” Kurt said.

“That one’s hard as a rock!”

“Sit on the floor for all I care. The sofa is ours! Come, Blaine! I’ve got your hot chocolate right here. That will warm you up.”

Blaine accepted the mug gratefully, holding it with both hands to get his fingers warm again, and drinking deeply.

Ah, that’s better!

Finn stomped out of the room in high dudgeon to go complain to his mom, but Carole agreed with Kurt.

Blaine saw Kurt grin in satisfaction, and the grin only widened when Finn came back in and found fault with his film choice too.

“Seriously, man? I wanted to watch Die Hard!”

“I won the fight, so it’s my pick.”

“Burt, back me up on this, come on!”

Burt looked up from his newspaper. “We can watch Die Hard tomorrow.”

Kurt added, “Now stop being a baby about this. Either shut up and watch, or go do something else.”

Finn looked mutinous, but plonked down on the loveseat and shut up.

Kurt hummed along with the opening music and pulled Blaine a little closer still. His arm around Blaine’s middle felt both possessive and grounding. Blaine felt the spark from before rekindling, a jittery feeling that made him want to… What? He didn’t even know, but he wanted. Oh, he wanted!

“What is it?” Kurt murmured. “Are you uncomfortable like this?”

“No, no.”

Blaine wiggled until his head fit exactly into the crook of Kurt’s neck, and then let himself sink into Kurt’s embrace. “Perfect.”

He felt a laugh rumble through him, and Kurt’s hold tightened infinitesimally.

“Good,” Kurt whispered, and softly kissed the crown of his head.

Blaine felt his lips stretch from ear to ear and closed his eyes to bask in the feeling of utter contentment that washed over him.

He couldn’t imagine anything that could ruin the moment now.

Of course, that was because he forgot about Finn.

“Mom, I’m hungry! Can I have some more cookies?”

“You already ate them all, hun!”

“So when’s supper?”

“After the movie.”

“But I’m hungry!”

Finn disappeared to the kitchen, grumbling under his breath, probably to search the pantry for snacks to tide him over until supper.

“Want a chocolate chip cookie?” Kurt asked Blaine softly, holding out a cookie tin and looking very smug.

Blaine burst out laughing. “Is this still payback for Finn putting snow down your shirt?”

“You know it! Also, I wanted to save some cookies for us. Finn ate all the shortbread and the last of the sugar cookies before we even got a chance to have some. Greedy pig!”

Blaine took a cookie and savoured it. “These are the absolute best.”

“Mmm.”

However lovely it was to cuddle up with Kurt, Blaine became uncomfortable after a while because his wet trousers felt cold and clammy and seeped all the heat out of his legs.

“I’m going to put some other pants on,” he whispered to Kurt. “I’ll be right back.”

That promise fell into the water when Cooper called him while he was in Kurt’s room, blathering on and on about all the fancy parties he’d been to and would still be going to.

It took nearly an hour for Coop to stop talking about himself and to ask what Blaine was doing for Christmas.

“I’m in Ohio,” said Blaine.

“But Mom and Dad are on a cruise!”

“Yep. Thanks for telling me about that, by the way. How long have you known?”

“Oh, they told me this summer, I think.”

“Lovely.”

“You didn’t know?”

“Nope. Flew out here for nothing.”

Cooper whistled low. “That sucks. So you’re all alone for Christmas?”

“No, actually, I’m not.”

There was silence at Cooper’s end. Then he asked, “So… You’re saying you’ve been hooking up with Sebastian again?”

“What? No! Ugh. Coop, please. As if! He cheated on me!”

“So who’s with you, then?”

“Kurt. I’m staying with his family.”

For the second time, his reply managed to silence Cooper.

“My boyfriend, Kurt, remember?”

“Um, no?! Now who’s forgotten to tell their brother something?”

Blaine laughed. “Well, it’s recent, so that will be why. I probably haven’t called you yet since we became an item.”

“So… Tell me about him.”

That was all the prompting Blaine needed to start singing Kurt’s praises, and it wasn’t until he’d rung off that he realized two things.

One: he’d referred to Kurt as his boyfriend without even thinking about it, whereas they were only faking a relationship. He’d regret that later, since Coop would tell their mom for sure, and he’d have to hear about it for years.

Two: he desperately wished they could be boyfriends for real. Somehow, in what the Warblers would call a classic Blaine move, he’d fallen for Kurt. Hard. And in a matter of days. There was no way this was going to end well. He was so screwed.

#klaine fanfiction #my fic #The Christmas Guest #chapter 4 #enjoy!

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rawiswhore · 3 years

Text

Raven x Fem Reader- "Like A Virgin"

I posted this fanfic in May because of the phrase "May flowers": "if April showers bring May flowers...", there was even an iconic ship known as the Mayflower.

Flowers are considered pure and innocent, and when someone loses their virginity, they become "deflowered".

_____________________________________________________________

Despite that ECW was a wrestling company that featured technical wrestling by the likes of Chris Benoit and Eddie Guerrero as well as luchador wrestling by Rey Mysterio Jr. and Juventud Guerrera, ECW is a wrestling company that mostly will always be remembered for being a hardcore wrestling company where wrestlers bled profusely and got thrown through tables, or in some extreme cases, getting stabbed.

Then again, ECW did stand for Extreme Championship Wrestling.

And one of those wrestlers that used to bleed quite a bit in ECW was Raven, who would play and become the character he'll always be remembered for: a depressed, nihilistic and even sociopathic grunge kid with a troubled childhood.

There've been times where Raven has bladed (which, in wrestling lingo, means to bleed excessively) so much in ECW, he looked like Carrie in that iconic scene where she gets drenched in pig blood when she's awarded prom queen.

You discovered ECW during the mid 1990's and developed a crush on Raven, who was arguably the sexiest man in that company back in 1995.

No, I'm not saying that as a joke, I do think Raven was hot AF during the 90's and even some of the 2000's.

Rob Van Dam didn't join ECW until the year after 1995, Stevie Richards had that tacky mullet that didn't look good on him, and most of the male roster in ECW weren't much to look at.

You remember how when you were in high school and even junior high, your friends telling you how they lost their virginity, and many of them bled when their boyfriend penetrated their cocks in their pussies.

You also just so happen to still be a virgin, despite that you did have a few relationships in junior high, high school and college, but you never quite went all the way.

Most of the guys you had crushes on in school already had girlfriends and weren't interested in you.

Plus, it's a good thing you saved your virginity until college because you wouldn't have gotten pregnant in high school or junior high.

Seeing Raven's handsome face drenched in blood, the fact that you have a crush on him, and you're still a virgin, what if you lost your virginity to him?

You did think long and hard about wanting to lose your virginity to him, a famous professional wrestler.

When you lose your virginity, you can't have it back.

You talked with your friends about it, and they said go for it.

Even they think Raven's pretty cute.

You attended an ECW show during the 90's, sometime after you had seen so many matches where Raven's face is soaked in blood and when Raven was still in that company, though you could've hooked up with him during his time in WCW.

One evening after an ECW show you attended, you were a ringrat that Raven had invited to his hotel room.

Raven luckily didn't have any blood drenched on his face and his hair was dry and thick, just the way you like him.

When you and Raven were in that hotel room together, before he and you could get to fucking, you asked him whether to do it in the bed or shower.

Raven suggested to go wherever you want, but you were worried that if he fucks you in bed and you start bleeding from him jamming his dick in your twat, you'll stain the bed with blood.

Then again, the silky comforters on top of the bed sheets are quite dark colored.

"Raven" you said to him. "Can I confess something to you?"

"Go ahead" he said.

You took a deep breath before confessing something to him about yourself, rolling your eyes to the top of your head, about to confess what you've planned on doing with him.

"I'm a virgin" you admitted after huffing a deep breath, looking at him in the eyes and saying that sternly. "That's why I asked if we should do it in bed or in the shower"

"So you won't get blood on the bed?" he filled in your sentence.

"Mmmmhmmm" you answered, nodding your head.

"Are you underage?" he asked, his face looking puzzled and confused.

"No!" you replied.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I'm not underage!" you protested. "I've got my ID right here!"

You opened your purse slung on your hip and looked deep inside your purse, pulling out your wallet and opening it up, looking down inside your wallet and pulling out your ID that revealed your birthday, showing off your ID right in front of him.

"That's not a fake ID, is it?" Raven asked.

"It's not" you admitted. "I promise"

"Well, you don't look underage" Raven said.

"I'm not underage" you said to him. "Many people are still virgins when they're adults"

"You've got a good point" he said, nodding his head.

You slid your ID back in your wallet and shut your wallet, putting it back in your purse.

"I've had friends in school tell me about how they lost their virginity" you admitted "And they said how their vaginas bleed when they lost their virginity, and seeing you with your face drenched in blood, plus I have a crush on you"

"You wanted to lose your virginity to me?" he asked.

You nodded your head.

"Have you ever taken any woman's virginity away?" you asked.

"Yep" he admitted, nodding his head.

What if you were a ringrat who was on your period and role played losing your virginity to him?

"Before we...get to fucking" you began "Should we do it with condoms or unprotected?"

"Well, you don't want me to die from AIDS, do you?" he asked. "Or yourself?"

"No" you said. "But many of my friends have told me condoms don't feel good"

"I agree with that" Raven admitted. "They don't feel good for me either"

"Really?" you asked.

He nodded his head.

"Do you have any STD's on you?" you asked.

"Not that I can think of, no" he admitted. "I always get checked. Do you have any?"

"I'm a virgin!" you argued.

You could be lying about how you're a virgin, you could also not be lying.

They say everything has a consequence.

If you have sex unprotected, you'll get pregnant, or worse, an STD.

Some STD's are curable, others are not and can kill you.

But condoms don't feel good.

Though, some religions and people protest and believe that sex should only be for procreation uses, to only make babies, not for pleasure.

Speaking of blood, HIV and AIDS can be contacted through blood, and if you have condomless sex with him while you lose your virginity and blood leaks out of your pussy from him thrusting his dick in your twat, will he or you get AIDS or HIV?

You should've asked a doctor about that before having sex with him.

"I promise, I am a virgin!" you swear, saying it like you meant it.

We'll see about that...

"Can 2 people who don't have STD's still catch AIDS if they have sex together unprotected?" you asked.

"Do I look like a doctor?" he asked, his fingers and hands pointing to himself.

This is something you should ask your doctor, not yourself.

You just really, really hope that you don't catch an STD or worse, AIDS, when you lose your virginity to Raven without a condom on.

"And before we get to doing it" you said. "Birth control or no birth control?"

"Well, do you want to have my baby?" he asked.

Actually, you'd love to have his baby, but he's a wrestler and you're not in a relationship with him.

"I wouldn't mind it" you admitted, grinning naughtily "But I'm not in a relationship with you"

"Then take a birth control pill" he said.

"But what if I get pregnant and have an abortion?" you asked.

"That's your decision" he suggested.

To be honest, you'd love it if you got pregnant with him, but being pregnant isn't all that fun, plus, you're not ready to have a baby with him.

You don't know him and you're not in a relationship with him, so you may as well abort his baby.

However, you made your mind up.

"Hold on" you said, "I'll be in the bathroom"

You got off of the bed and walked to the bathroom, where you grabbed one of the plastic cups and put it under the sink.

Your other hand turned the knob of the sink on until water poured out of the faucet and into that little plastic cup you were holding.

Your eyes were glued to the plastic cup you were holding, watching how much water will fill up that cup.

When you felt like there was enough water in the cup, your other hand turned the knob until the faucet stopped pouring water.

You walked out of the bathroom holding a plastic cup and walked back to the bed, placing that plastic cup filled with water on the nightstand in between the 2 beds in the room.

Your head looked inside your purse again and pulled out a little packet of birth control pills, where you carefully took out one of the pills and stuck your tongue out.

You placed that birth control pill on top of your tongue and managed to balance that pill on your tongue.

Your tongue crawled back in your mouth, still holding onto that pill, and you grabbed the cup of water sitting on the nightstand.

You placed that cup of water to your lips and started gulping that water down, washing away the pill that you had swallowed and gulped down, taking some swigs of water.

When that pill was now traveling down your throat, you placed the cup back on the nightstand.

You placed the packet of birth control pills back into your purse, where you closed your purse and wrapped your fingers around one of the straps, lifting that purse over your head and body and placing that purse next to the bed you and Raven were sitting on.

"So, are you ready?" he asked.

This is the moment.

You're about to lose your virginity.

Not just your virginity, but your virginity to someone famous.

A pretty famous professional wrestler.

While Raven was never the wrestling pop culture icon that Hulk Hogan, the Rock, Stone Cold Steve Austin and even John Cena were, he still is somewhat of a wrestling legend and icon.

At least he's not a completely obscure wrestler.

When you lose your virginity, you can never have it back.

You thought about that after Raven asked if you're ready.

"I am" you admitted, nodding your head.

You were really nervous, butterflies flying around in your stomach and your fingers clutching onto his fingers.

"Alright then" Raven said. "I'll be gentle, I promise"

He placed one of his hands on the side of your head, where he pulled you into his face for a kiss.

Your eyes had shut while you leaned your face into his face, your lips locking and slightly puckering in between his lips.

You can't believe it.

You're making out with a pretty famous professional wrestler that eventually would be in the big 5 of wrestling companies in the 90's and 2000's.

You never thought you would ever do something like this, but you are.

Pinch me, I must be dreaming, you thought.

You've been kissed before, and you used to practice making out with your pillows as a teenager, so this isn't something completely new for you.

Raven's eyes had shut when your lips locked in between his.

His lips were soft and smooth, luckily not chapped and cracked.

Thank God you didn't wear any lipstick or even lip gloss, which might've made you look prettier, but you'll end up getting lipstick on his lips when you kiss him.

While you and Raven had your lips attached to each other, his fingers on the side of your face had played and stroked through your hair.

Shouldn't you be the one playing with his hair, not vice versa, since he has such thick, curly hair?

You'll play with his hair later.

Your mouth as well as his mouth opened and closed onto one another, pressing your lips on his.

Since Raven's fingers were behind your head stroking your hair, you raised one of your hands and placed it behind Raven's hair, your hand and fingers burying through his thick, coarse curls.

Your fingers ran through his thick dirty blond hair despite that his hair is rather rough.

Your lips fumbled up to his top lip, where now his upper lip was in between your mouth, you sucked on that lip as well as kissed it.

Raven began to gently put his weight on you, leaning his body onto yours, though he wasn't trying to crush you.

As you lay on the bed, your feet slipped out of your high heels and lifted off of the carpeted floor, your legs now laying on top of the silky comforters and Raven laid on top of you in between your legs.

Though, you prefer it if you lay on top of him, you weigh less than he does.

You can feel his erection protruding through his denim shorts and onto your lap, his cock is growing harder and harder under his shorts.

His denim shorts are feeling tighter on his thighs thanks to his erection.

Sometimes when Raven kissed you, he sunk his teeth into your bottom lip and gently pulled on it, and you didn't mind it.

His mouth sometimes had your bottom or top lip in between his lips, where he sucked on your lip.

Your lips sucked onto his kiss hard, your lips attached to his mouth and sucking in that kiss.

Blood is rushing to and swelling your clitoris, you're getting hornier and hornier while making out with him.

He slipped his tongue into your mouth, his tongue caressing and elevating up the middle of your tongue, luckily he didn't have a tongue ring in.

His tongue was moist, though your mouth and tongue was moist as well, and your tongue proceeded to stroke and caress up his tongue as well.

While you and Raven are making out with each other, one of your hands snuck under his shirt, where your hand felt his torso.

He didn't have a lot of muscle under his torso, but whatever, you're still touching him.

That hand under his shirt began to caress and stroke his torso.

Sometimes, when your hand reached where one of his nipples is, your index finger drew circles on his areola.

Men have sensitive nipples too, and Raven groaned and moaned in between kisses.

Your hand on his chest eventually would roam behind his back, traveling all over his back and feeling his flesh.

He lifted his hand on the side of your face off and snuck his hands under your shirt, behind your back, until his hands and fingers found the clasps of your bra.

His hands grabbed onto the clasps of your bra, where he carefully unattached and separated your bra, your breasts no longer feeling tight from your brassiere.

"Does that feel good?" he murmured close to you, feeling his breath on your face.

"Yeah" you confessed.

Your tits must be aching from being under your bra.

Don't worry, Raven's got the cure for that, not just unhooking your bra.

His hands swerved from your back to your torso, where he slipped his hands under your bra cups, his hands squeezing and fondling your breasts.

His hands were giving your breasts a bit of a massage, playing with them.

You used to rub your nipples sometimes and it feels so good, you want Raven to do more of this to you.

You moaned in his mouth while he squeezed and fondled your tits, thankfully you didn't have PMS and your breasts weren't hard.

"More!" you pleaded in a breathy whisper. "I want more!"

Raven's spent a bit too much time making out with you, so he lifted his head off of your face and buried his face into your neck, where he started kissing you on various parts of your neck.

He smothered his lips on several sides of your neck, your skin in between his lips and mouth.

Sometimes, his teeth would bite a tiny bit of your skin, where he'd suck on your skin, giving you a bright pink hickey that might fade away.

His teeth were like a tiny pinch of your skin, he basically was pinching your neck with your teeth, but it was a bit sharp and he didn't try to hurt you.

Your fingers grabbed a handful of his thick curls, your fingers buried through his hair, although you weren't trying to hurt him when you grabbed onto his hair.

Your eyes were shut and the back of your neck was sunken almost into the pillow you were reclining on, the back of your body attached to the mattress.

You really hope that people next door won't hear you and Raven eventually fucking on this bed.

Raven let a part of your skin on your neck go and made his teeth bite into many different parts of your neck, sucking on your neck.

He's breathing quite heavily while he's biting your neck, you're breathing heavily a bit too.

He didn't bite too hard, but he did bite quite a bit.

You released some breathy moans while Raven nibbled on your skin and sucked it, sometimes letting his breath out while he sucked your neck.

His hands, meanwhile, have switched from fondling your breasts to pinching your nipples, your nipples now in between his fingers.

His fingers tweaked and turned your sensitive nipples, and it felt so good when he did this.

"Ohhhh Raven!" you moaned breathily. "Mmmmmmm!!"

You bit onto your bottom lip, holding back your moans.

"Don't stop!" you whined as he tweaked your nipples. "This feels soooo good!".

Your pussy's getting moist while he tweaks and turns your nipples.

Raven regrets that he didn't caress his hands over your silky bra covered breasts, since that also feels really good too.

When Raven was finished biting into many parts of your neck and making hickeys, he let go of your neck and lifted himself up.

His hands quickly assembled under your bra cups and out of your shirt, only for his hands to grab the bottom of your shirt and lift it all the way above your breasts.

His hands then grasped your bra cups and lifted them up, exposing your erect nipples underneath.

Raven started at your pointy nipples, grinning and licking his top lip.

He dived his head down to your chest until one of your nipples was in his mouth, where he began to suck on that nipple, his hands still holding onto your bra cups.

As he sucked your breast, his lips pressed down on your nipple, eventually his teeth would slightly sink into your nip and gently pull and tug it, stretching it out.

The tip of his tongue also licked vertically up and down your nipple as he sucked it, sometimes he licked it horizontally.

He eventually made the tip of his tongue lick circles on your areola over and over again.

You pulled his head down into your breast with your hand, though you luckily didn't suffocate him when you held his head against your tit.

Chills have been running down your spine while he's doing this to you, you're moaning for him to keep sucking your tits and how good it feels.

He might not be tweaking your nipples, but he's doing something just as good.

He wishes he could caress your body while sucking on one of your breasts.

Raven's hands let go of your bra cups and his hands grasped on your hips, where he began to caress horizontally up and down your hips.

His hands were being gentle while he stroked your body, and one of his hands turned behind your back.

You keep moaning for Raven while he caresses you, and he's murmuring and asking you how good it feels.

He eventually got tired from sucking one of your breasts, so he moved his head over to your other tit, where he sucked that other nipple.

He sucked and licked that nipple like he sucked and licked the previous one, licking horizontally and vertically as well as licking in circles on your areola while he sucked your nipple.

His hand behind your back was cradling and lifting you up from the mattress slightly.

His other hand continued to caress your body, though his hand eventually traveled to your denim shorts and slipped under your shorts.

His fingers could feel your panties under those shorts, so he raised his hand a few inches until his fingers slipped under your panties as well.

His fingers slid down until he felt and touched your vulva, his fingers could feel over your pubic hair.

When the tips of his fingers touched your clit, he began to rub vertically up and down your clitoris, furiously rubbing it, stimulating and tickling it.

You've rubbed your clitoris a few times growing up after discovering masturbation, and Raven's driving you crazy when he rubs your clit.

His mouth is moist, wetting your nipple with his saliva, and sometimes he's gently biting your nipple, tugging and stretching your nipple out.

"Raven!" you gasped and cried out.

His fingers can feel how moist your pussy is, his fingers aren't getting out of place and balance rubbing your clit.

"Don't stop now!" you pleaded, referring to him rubbing your clitoris.

Despite that he's rubbing your clit so much, he's about to do something else to your pussy in general, and not just fucking.

Raven shifted his head away from your breast, where he placed his lips in between your chest and began to slide and brush his lips down the middle of your torso, all the way down to your shorts.

You arched your head back while Raven's lips caressed down your body, your flesh could feel tingles when his lips glided down your torso.

When he reached your shorts, he lifted his hand out of your panties and shorts and pulled his hand off of your back, where he undid your shorts, sliding the button out of the hole and sliding the zipper down.

His fingers grabbed onto the sides of your shorts as well as your panties underneath and pulled them all the way down to your ankles, you could feel the fabric of your denim shorts sliding down your legs.

Once your shorts and panties were down to your ankles, he slid and pulled them across your feet and tossed them both away to the floor.

He could lean his head in between your thighs and eat your pussy out (as well as do what you've planned on doing with him), but your legs won't really be all that spread apart if you have your shorts and panties at your ankles.

He placed his hands on your thighs and spread your thighs apart, where he saw your pure, virginal twat hiding away in there that will be defloured in a few minutes.

His eyes were glued to your vagina, the tip of his tongue licked across his top lip over how ravenous he is over your twat.

He then leaned his face into your pussy and buried his face and head in between your thighs, where his tongue was carefully caressing and stroking up your twat.

His tongue felt the texture of your pussy flaps, his moist tongue helped lubricate your cunt.

So this is what it feels like to have your pussy eaten out, you thought.

His tongue can taste how salty and moist your pussy is, tasting your pussy juices.

His tongue is preparing you for what you came here for, wetting your twat, though you're already getting wet from him having foreplay with you.

His tongue elevated to your clitoris, where the tip of his tongue licked your clit in many different ways.

Sometimes, his tongue licked horizontally across, other times it licked vertically.

He even sometimes let his entire tongue, not just his tip, lick your clitoris.

You keep moaning for him to eat your pussy out, your eyes rolling to the top of your head, your moans breathy and quiet.

As Raven's eating you out in between your legs, his hands are untying the flannel tied around his waist and tossing it away.

After he did that, he unbuttoned his denim shorts and pulled the zipper down, preparing for what comes next.

His hands then grabbed onto the sides of his shorts and pulled them down until his genitals were exposed, his rock hard erection eagerly awaiting to destroy your pussy.

He then pulled himself up from your crotch, where he gently tapped your thigh.

You opened your eyes and looked at him, where his fingers pointed down to his genitals.

Your eyes shifted to his crotch, seeing his hard erection.

Your eyes lit up seeing his cock, you could nearly smile from ear to ear seeing his dick.

He's also circumcised (fun fact: he's Jewish), and you didn't know he had a cut penis.

His hands grabbed onto his shirt and lifted it up his torso and over his head, where he tossed his shirt away.

He then wrapped his fingers around his shaft, his mouth smirking at you.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

You had butterflies in your stomach and your anxiety was increasing.

This is it.

You're about to lose your virginity.

Something you can never have back.

And you're losing your virginity to Raven, a famous professional wrestler.

You took a deep breath and a hard gulp, your hands moving from Raven to grabbing onto the silky comforter.

"Mmmmhmmm" you decided, nodding your head.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yeah" you confessed.

"I'll be gentle" he promised, saying that calmly like he meant it.

He led his cock towards your pussy hole, where the tip of his penis began to penetrate and enter into your twat.

Your pussy was tight, and soon, his entire erection slid into your pussy hole, stretching your tight walls out.

The pain is so hurtful, your face is clenching and scrunching up and your eyes are tightening, your fingers grabbing onto the silky comforter on top of the bed.

You're trying your best to tolerate the pain, and Raven can see by the look on your face that you're in pain.

You're trying not to wail out while his cock is stretching your pussy walls out.

Man, you're tight, he thought, she really might be a virgin.

His fingers unraveled around his shaft as more and more of his penis entered in your twat.

When his penis was completely inside your pussy, he began to pound your twat with his cock back and forth, his cock stabbing the inside of your pussy.

Blood started spattering on his shaft inside, he's basically murdering your vagina.

Tears could nearly well into your eyes over how much pain you're in with him losing your virginity.

Since Raven as well as you didn't want to get blood on the comforter, his hands grabbed your hips and he rolled and turned you over, until you were sitting and straddling his lap and he was the one lying on the bed this time.

You began riding on Raven's dick this time, he held onto your hips while you rode him.

Despite that he's getting really into fucking your tight little pussy, his eyes can see that your face looks like it's in a lot of pain.

You're wailing and moaning while riding his dick, your wails sound like you're in pain instead of enjoying it.

But, you're trying to savor this discomfort.

His cock is getting bloody from destroying your pussy.

Your shirt and bra are falling down your torso, covering your tits, and you're getting hot under your clothes.

Your hands grabbed onto your top, lifted it over your torso and head and tossed it away, only for your fingers to wrap around your bra straps and furiously pull them down your arms and hands until you toss your bra away.

Now Raven can see your tits bouncing up and down while you ride him.

Raven was giving you such an orgasm when you were having foreplay with him over how good it felt when he sucked, licked and tweaked your nipples and stroked your body, now that orgasm is turning to pain.

Since you took your top and bra off, he could hear you taking your clothes off, so he opened your eyes to see your tits bouncing up and down while you ride him.

His mouth grinned looking at your breasts bouncing, this might make him cum pretty soon.

The bed is squeaking and creaking while you ride him, though it was creaking a bit when he thrust himself as you lay down on the bed.

Raven just wants to cum pretty soon so you won't have to be in so much pain and discomfort, though men do cum before women do.

You've worn tampons before, that have really hurt when you tried putting them up your pussy before you lost your virginity, so you shouldn't be too upset over this.

Although, you have a hard, thick cock stretching your pussy walls out and breaking your hymen, popping your cherry.

Man, what it wouldn't give to have Raven drenched in your virginal blood.

Raven also did his part in fucking you, where sometimes he lifted his lap and pelvis up from the mattress and thrust himself into your pussy.

His cock is getting drenched in your blood, and not your menstrual blood, mind you.

Eventually, Raven jizzed inside your twat, his eyes shutting tight when he had came and he groaned a gravelly, throaty groan as he came.

His seed was filling up the inside of your pussy, but you won't get pregnant, hopefully.

Despite that he came, you haven't orgasmed yet.

Though, should you?

Hmmmm...

"Hey" Raven said a few minutes after he came. "Y'still wanna fuck?"

He raised his voice so you can hear him.

"I'd rather not" you confessed.

Really, it hurts. A lot.

He then lifted and pulled you off of his lap, where his cock slid out of your twat, his cock now a gooey mixture of cum and blood.

Your pussy hole was oozing a mixture of jizz and blood, and you grabbed your purse quickly and looked inside, digging around until your eyes found a tampon.

You brought that tampon with you after he took your virginity away, since your pussy is leaking blood.

You lifted that tampon out of your purse and took it out of the plastic case, where, with your legs spread wide open, you inserted and slid that tampon into your twat hole, until it was all the way inside your pussy hole except for a little string hanging out.

Besides having a tampon up your pussy, your eyes were looking around the hotel room for your panties, until you caught them, where you rushed over to where your panties were and picked them up, where you spread your panties down on the other bed until your pantyline exposed.

You grabbed your purse again and pulled out a maxi pad, where you furiously unwrapped the plastic wrap and attached the pad to your pantyline until it stuck, unwrapping the wings of the pad and wrapping around the corner of your pantyline.

"Why are you doing that?" Raven asked.

"I'm afraid if I wear a tampon after I lost my virginity, it might fall out" you confessed. "So I brought a spare pad with me"

Raven nodded his head, smiling and grinning at you.

You weren't really on your period when he fucked you, considering his tongue was eating out your twat and he didn't taste any blood, plus, he didn't get any blood on his fingers when he rubbed your clit, so you really did lose your virginity to him.

You'd love to suck on Raven's cock, but it's drenched in blood now, which he can wash off, but whatever.

And now you're a changed woman.

You're no longer a virgin.

And you lost your virginity to a pretty famous professional wrestler.

A few days after you lost your virginity to him, you told your friends how you finally lost your virginity, and not only that, but to Raven, a famous pro wrestler.

They couldn't believe you and thought you were lying, but you showed them your ECW ticket for proof.

Eventually, you became a ringrat for Raven, and not just him, but Rob Van Dam, Brian Pillman, Stevie Ricahrds, Nova, Chris Jericho, Chris Benoit, and anyone else in ECW you thought was sexy.

When Raven crossed over to WCW, you were a ringrat for him as well as other pro wrestlers from that company, and you even did it with a few WWF wrestlers as well.

Not only has Raven been in the big 5 of wrestling companies in the 90's and 2000's (the WWF/E, WCW, ECW, TNA and Ring of Honor), you've slept with wrestlers in the big 5 of those wrestling companies.

_____________________________________________________________

Dean Ambrose used to bleed profusely when he was in CZW (though he still bleeds quite a bit over in AEW).

If this fanfic was set during Dean/Jon's CZW days where the fem reader lost her virginity to him because he bled so much, I'm sure this fanfic would get a lot of likes and reblogs.

#raven #ecw #90s #fanfiction

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satorisa · 3 years

Text

Falling: Chapter 3 - In Which the Boys Have the Best Sleepover Ever

Rating: T

Summary: "I wanna forget all this burden in my past."

Alternate Reading: AO3

Because the best sleepovers involve watching Studio Ghibli movies, right?

With the May holidays coming up, Daisuke’s parents planned to go out of town to visit their college friends. Grandpa Daiki had left for Italy about a week earlier with a close friend to enjoy wood-fired pizzas, lemons the size of his face, and the beautiful, Sicilian breeze. And so, until Grandpa Daiki returned to Japan the Monday of the holiday week, it was unanimously decided that Daisuke would spend the weekend at the Saehara household.

“What’s the occasion?” Risa asked when she saw the duffel bag Daisuke had that Friday morning. “Running away from home?”

Daisuke nearly protested when Takeshi swooped in, wrapping his arm around Daisuke’s shoulder. “Nope! He’s sleeping over at my place for the weekend! Are ya—” Takeshi began to bounce his eyebrows. “—jealous?”

Risa laughed. “Jealous? Of not being invited to your ham fest? Puh-lease.”

Satoshi appeared on the other side of Daisuke and silently waved at Risa. She returned the gesture.

“Congrats on waking up early again, Hiwatari-kun. You’ve been on a roll lately.”

“Thank you.”

“So,” Risa asked with a grin, “what do you guys have planned for your super special sleepover?”

“I think we’re baking this evening,” Daisuke answered. “Then we’re marathoning Studio Ghibli films.”

“Absolute classics,” Takeshi interjected.

“Tomorrow, we’re taking Satoshi out to buy some clothes and…uh…spend the rest of the evening talking until we fall asleep.”

“For our brotherhood,” Takeshi interjected again.

“And then we’ll spend the rest of Sunday watching Studio Ghibli movies until we pass out.”

Risa blinked before she started laughing. “Actually, I take that back. I’m a little jealous I’m not invited.”

“You can’t sleep over, of course, but you’re free to join us!” Takeshi said, excitement dripping with each syllable.

She just smiled. “I’ll let you know if I can.”

…

Since Risa had lunch plans with Ritsuko that day, the boys decided to eat in Daisuke’s classroom. They needed to meet up before they headed home for the weekend to prepare themselves for Risa’s potential company.

“Boys,” Takeshi said as he sat down, “I shot my shot.”

“Congrats,” Daisuke said as he unwrapped his bread.

“Did you have to invite her over?” Satoshi grumbled, digging into the bento Takeshi packed for them that morning.

“Look, I get that you’ve got issues, but what’s the worst thing that could happen? Is she gonna try to get you alone to finagle information about Dark from you?”

Satoshi looked at Takeshi straight in the eye and knocked on the desk. Takeshi broke out in raucous laugher, and both Takeshi and Daisuke knocked on the desks they sat at in solidarity.

“I don’t think she’ll do that, though,” Daisuke reassured. “I think she was genuinely interested in what we’re actually doing.”

“I know,” Takeshi said with a smug smile. “She was hooked the moment you said we’re baking later.”

“Don’t tell me you tailored this weekend just for her,” Satoshi said.

“What little faith do you have in me?” Takeshi feigned offence. “I tailored this weekend just for you.”

Satoshi shrugged. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Takeshi shot him a quick glare before downing several large bites of his lunch. He chased it with water and, after a loud burp, he met both Daisuke’s and Satoshi’s gazes.

“Alrighty boys, let’s set some ground rules for this weekend if we so happen to find ourselves in Harada-imouto’s presence.” He raised a finger. “1) We do not joke about or discuss my crush on her around her. If she finds out, you are dead to me.” He raised another finger. “2) Satoshi is not to be left alone with her at all. For his safety. And, uh—” Takeshi put his hand down. “—that’s about it.”

“Um…I think I need to add one more rule,” Daisuke said.

“Aight. Add away.”

“3) Risa-chan cannot be left alone with me, either.”

Satoshi focused on his bento, picking at the eggs with his chopsticks. Takeshi leaned in, eyes glistening with curiosity.

“What secrets are you hiding from me, oh dear best friend?”

…

One of the underclassmen from the art club caught Satoshi on the way to the shoe lockers, so Takeshi went ahead while Satoshi talked to them. They quickly chatted about the en plein air social the club had planned during the holidays before going on their merry way with an enthusiastic farewell.

Those cute underclassmen of his were starting to grow on him.

After he switched his shoes out, he spotted Takeshi and Daisuke waiting by the entrance. He expected to leave with them to enjoy a fun evening with the boys when a familiar pink ribbon came into his field of vision.

“Hey, guys!” Risa greeted while Ritsuko, who trailed behind her, waved. “My parents said I could come over for some baked goods this evening! Mind if Ritsuko tags along?”

“The more, the merrier!” Takeshi said. “Welcome aboard the fun train, Fukuda!”

“I’m just here to steal your recipe for Valentine’s Day.”

He laughed, and the group was about to head out when Satoshi’s phone rang. He saw Inspector Saehara’s caller ID and picked up.

“Sorry to ruin yer plans and all, but somethin’ urgent just popped up that needs to be done ASAP.”

“Is it more urgent than baking?”

“I know you’re upset, Satoshi, but—”

“I’m telling Saehara-san that you called me in for work and ruined my youthful sleepover.”

“Satoshi, please don’t call—”

He hung up. The group looked at him in awe.

“Sorry, but something came up at the station. Have fun for me.”

…

Inspected Saehara locked the door to the office behind him. Satoshi glared at the older man, and he just guffawed.

“I’m really sorry, Satoshi.”

Fuming, he ignored Inspector Saehara’s apology and marched back home without him. When he arrived, Risa and Ritsuko were long gone. A half-eaten cake sat on the table, and Takeshi and Daisuke were playing a video game in the living room.

They looked away from the TV and, instead of greeting him, they started laughing at him for being a young professional. Satoshi’s eyebrows furrowed more as he ignored them, chucking his school bag at the sofa (narrowly missing Takeshi) before helping himself to some cake.

Plate in hand, Satoshi sat on the floor by Daisuke before having a bite. (Dark chocolate with ganache. Delectably moist, decadently rich and, most importantly, not too sweet.)

He watched them play while eating his cake, purposefully ignoring Inspector Saehara when he finally arrived with dinner. They all gathered in the living room, digging into the fried chicken as they began their movie marathon. They watched Princess Mononoke first since it was Inspector Saehara’s favorite film from the Studio Ghibli collection but, when the old man began to snore halfway through, Takeshi banished him to the master bedroom, and his muffled snores accompanied Joe Hisaishi’s ethereal score until the movie ended.

Daisuke ducked into the downstairs bathroom to get ready for bed in case he fell asleep while watching the movies, so Satoshi went upstairs to change and freshen up when he saw a text from Risa.

She sent him a picture from earlier; the girls stood to the left, guys on the right, as they framed the cake in the middle. The message underneath read: “had lots of fun earlier! hope we can do this again soon!”

Satoshi blinked, wondering what prompted Risa to text him. They only ever messaged each other to confirm plans with the group or to find each other in crowds: general housekeeping more than anything.

Satoshi: Did Fukuda steal the recipe?

Risa: yup! she’s got it stashed away on her phone! :)

He wondered what possessed him to message her, but the speed at which she replied with was astounding. His phone pinged again, and he saw another text from her.

Risa: how’s the movie marathon?

Satoshi: We just finished watching Princess Mononoke.

Risa: good choice! wish I could’ve stayed longer to watch with you guys :(

Satoshi: You’re still welcome to join us on Sunday if you’d like.

Risa: i’ll see if i can! thanks for the invite, hiwatari-kun!”

Satoshi sat at his desk, focused on his phone. And when Risa no longer responded, he left his phone on his desk to charge before heading downstairs. Daisuke was still taking a shower, but Takeshi was in the kitchen making hot cocoa.

When Takeshi saw Satoshi, he pulled him into a hug.

“Bro, thank you for inviting Risa over on Sunday.”

…

The boys breezed through more of the Studio Ghibli catalogue, getting through Castle in the Sky, Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, until they began to fall asleep while watching Porco Rosso. Takeshi leaned on Satoshi’s left shoulder, snoring at a tolerable volume and occasionally mumbling something in gibberish. Daisuke leaned on Satoshi’s right shoulder, cheek smushed into Satoshi’s upper arm while he hung onto Satoshi’s appendage like a sloth.

And Satoshi, enamored by the Studio Ghibli magic that gave life to a story about a pilot-turned-pig in the Adriatic Sea, watched on. And only when the credits began, with its calming music, did Satoshi join his friends.

…

Satoshi woke up to hear something sizzling on the stove. He rubbed his eyes awake before sitting up on the sofa. The blanket that covered him rolled off his chest as the cool air from the AC hit him, and he saw Takeshi and Daisuke in the kitchen.

(Inspector Saehara was not in the kitchen, but Satoshi picked out his snores from the room in the lulls of the sound of breakfast.)

When he finally came to, he joined the duo. He silently greeted them while he began to make coffee, filling up the kettle for some hot water.

Satoshi stood separated from the bustle in the kitchen, watching the kettle while Takeshi and Daisuke made small talk. Only when the kettle clicked did Satoshi move as he began to grind the coffee beans. He made enough coffee for Inspector Saehara to have his daily two cups and poured some out for the boys before joining them at the table.

“Dude, Satoshi’s coffee is to die for.”

Daisuke laughed before taking a sip. His face lit up, surprised, before he took another sip. “Wow, this is great! Thanks, Satoshi!”

He just nodded. Silent.

Even though he hadn’t said a word all morning, the guys didn’t force him to join their conversation. They let him be, just like he wanted, as he relished in this moment.

After they said their thanks, they dug into the breakfast. And while Satoshi silently ate, listening to Takeshi and Daisuke talk about the most menial of things, Satoshi genuinely wished that they could do this again.

…

Commissioner Hiwatari never took Satoshi out to shop for clothes. He would come home with items that somehow always fit but were always more fashionable than comfortable or practical. (And, if Satoshi had to be honest, he hated everything Commissioner Hiwatari bought him.)

Satoshi thought Takeshi would take him to a Uniqlo or SHIPS, but the trio found themselves in front of the department store.

“…with what money are we buying my clothes?” Satoshi asked, adjusting the tote slung over his shoulder.

“Ma said to charge it as a business expense.”

“…how?”

Takeshi shrugged before rolling up his sleeves. “Alright, fellas, we’ve got one job today, so let’s stay focused. No distractions!”

“Says the one who always gets distracted by the food and kitchen appliances,” Daisuke joked.

Takeshi glared before they walked in, politely turning down the makeup samples they could bring back to their “girlfriends” as they made their way to the escalator. Daisuke and Takeshi pulled their phones out as they ascended, but Satoshi looked down at the sprawling floor in awe. Everything shone, neatly displayed or folded, and he was too enthralled by the sight that he didn’t feel the pang of regret that often accompanied him finally experiencing something he should’ve long experienced as a child.

When they made it to the floor that housed the men’s section, mannequins dressed in sleek suits greeted them. Satoshi recognized those brands as the high-end ones that made up most of Commissioner Hiwatari’s closet, and Satoshi marched on to find something less expensive. He passed by some popular streetwear brands, only known to him because of Takeshi and Daisuke’s mild interest in fashion, until he finally found more subdued pieces of clothing that catered to his tastes.

“Satoshi, uh, that brand’s—”

Takeshi’s warning came too late. Satoshi looked at the tag, and the price bounced in his head. It was too damn expensive for a casual sweater, so much so that seeing that many numbers together physically hurt.

“Takeshi, this was a terrible idea.”

“Bro, you literally aren’t even trying right now.”

“But—” Satoshi gestured to the clothes surrounding them. “—there’s too much to look through. And they’re probably all pricey.”

Takeshi sighed. “Just ask someone to help you.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Just go up to one of the attendants and ask them to help you. I’m sure they can find something for you.”

Satoshi just blinked, looking at Takeshi like he had said something in Russian. Takeshi returned Satoshi’s confused expression, and Daisuke laughed when he finally caught on.

“Are you too nervous to ask them for help?” Daisuke asked.

Satoshi Hiwatari, literal kid detective, college graduate at the tender age of fourteen, terrified to ask for help at the department store?

Absolutely.

Takeshi smirked, and Satoshi sighed, leaving the thoroughly entertained duo before asking one of the attendants for help. She directed him to a brand he wasn’t familiar with, but Satoshi liked the style and, most importantly, enjoyed the price point.

And after Satoshi tried on what he picked out, narrowing down the pile of clothes he brought with him to the fitting room, they paid before heading downstairs so Takeshi could fawn over the food. Satoshi followed him, wondering what samples he could taste, while Daisuke went off to grab something for Riku when he visited her during the holidays.

After stopping Takeshi from buying an extravagant set of chocolates, Satoshi spotted a familiar pink ribbon tying back brown locks. Lo and behold, Harada Risa was in her natural habitat at the department store, admiring the cases full of desserts while she carried a basket of impeccable looking strawberries in her hand. He ducked behind the closest fruit stand.

“Takeshi!” he harshly whispered.

“Ye?”

“Harada is here!”

Satoshi motioned towards the preoccupied girl, and Takeshi’s face lit up. What a serendipitous occasion for them to meet at the department store! But a familiar mop of red popped into his field of vision and was in the peripheries of a certain girl who would most definitely stop him were she to see him.

Thus, by virtue of the bro code, Rule Number 3 of this sleepover took precedent. But it also gave Takeshi a fantastic opportunity.

“I’ll distract her,” Takeshi whispered. “Get Daisuke out of here.”

“Where do we meet up?”

“Men’s section. We should be safe there.”

Satoshi nodded.

“Harada-chan!”

She turned around and greeted Takeshi. Satoshi couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but she saw Daisuke briskly walk towards him. He ducked behind the stand next to Satoshi, and they silently watched Takeshi lead her away for them to escape.

May his shot go well.

…

“So, what’s the real reason why you can’t be left alone with Harada?” Satoshi asked as the two of them sat down in the men’s section.

“Is Riku being jealous of her sister not a good enough reason?”

“I’m sure it’s part of the reason, but I feel like that’s not the whole thing.”

“Is that your detective instinct?”

“No. You’re just a little too obvious sometimes,” Satoshi said with a smile.

Daisuke sighed while Satoshi directed his attention to the passersby. A frantic woman passed by, quickly talking to someone on the phone in English.

“It’s just…Risa-chan has been a lot more clingy lately to the point that Riku’s starting to get annoyed with how much time I spend with her. And I’m having a sneaking suspicion that it has something to do with Dark.”

“Like residual feelings of some sort?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what do with that.”

“Talk to her about it?”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why? Because you’re dating her sister?”

“Yeah. That’s one of the reasons, but I also don’t want to put her on the spot for it, especially if she doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

“Is that why you were a little too excited to hear about Takeshi’s feelings for her?”

“Yeah,” Daisuke sheepishly admitted. “It’s the easiest way to resolve it. A win-win situation for everyone involved.”

“That involves Harada returning his feelings.”

“There’s always a chance.”

“You’re holding onto a slim hope, then.”

Daisuke laughed. “Better to be optimistic, I always say.”

“Well, I’m sure there are other guys in our grade we could always…gently persuade to pursue Harada were she to turn down Takeshi’s feelings.”

His friend shook his head in disbelief that Satoshi even suggested such an idea while Satoshi laughed. If Takeshi couldn’t worm his way into Risa’s heart, no one else in their grade would be able to. Only a person with such outstanding confidence like Takeshi could handle Risa’s overwhelming personality.

Either that or…

That wasn’t a train of thought he was willing to entertain. Not now. And, hopefully, not ever.

Satoshi spotted Takeshi’s spiky hair in his peripheries as he rode up the escalator, shining with jubilee.

“Hello, men,” he greeted as the enthusiasm faded from his face. “What the hell have you two been talking about to make y’all look like death?”

“We’re bracing ourselves for the interrogation later by screening our answers,” Satoshi answered.

Takeshi glared at him.

…

“You did what?”

Mama Saehara’s voice boomed through the house. The boys just arrived, and they stood at the entrance, removing their shoes while trying to make as little noise as possible.

Satoshi had never heard her sound like that. Her voice always had a light and cheerful tone despite her powerful looks, yet she sounded exactly like he expected her to in that moment.

“It was an emergency!” Inspector Saehara retorted. “I know that he had plans an’ all, but—”

“But what? You think work is more important than what you made him miss?”

“Well—”

Mama Saehara screamed a flurry of French, and Inspector Saehara gasped before replying to whatever she just said in Japanese. Takeshi sighed as they bickered on.

“I’m sorry about this, y’all.”

“It’s fine,” Daisuke said. “My parents get like this sometimes, too. Even grandpa has his moments.”

Satoshi blinked. It sounded like Inspector Saehara and Mama Saehara were arguing over what happened yesterday, but he didn’t realize they would get so heated over something like that. Satoshi had completely gotten over being called to work when he woke up that morning, so he couldn’t empathize with them arguing about it.

“Is this normal?” Satoshi asked.

“Honestly, I’m surprised it took you this long to hear them like this, but I guess they’ve probably been holdin’ back because of you.”

Mama Saehara let out another exasperated string of words in French. Inspector Saehara demanded she repeat it in Japanese, taunting her, and she did without any hesitation. The boys gasped.

“I thought they got along,” Satoshi said.

“They do,” Takeshi said. “I mean, how else could they have been married for this long?”

“But—”

“This is normal!” Takeshi assured. “Besides, what family doesn’t argue?”

Daisuke nodded. Satoshi, however, decided he had had enough of the petty argument and marched into the kitchen to try to diffuse the situation.

Inspector Saehara sat at the table with his phone leaning against his mug. He looked up from the screen and balked at the sight of Satoshi before shooting him an awkward smile.

“Hey, Satoshi,” Inspector Saehara greeted. “How was yer trip to the department store?”

“Good.”

He expected Inspector Saehara to reply or for Mama Saehara to say something to him. She just grumbled something in French.

Inspector Saehara gasped.

“Have you no shame in cussin’ me out in a different language in front of our son?”

It was Satoshi’s turn to gasp. If only to lighten the situation.

Inspector Saehara cracked a smile.

…

Chips and beer in hand, Inspector Saehara retreated to the master bedroom. And, arms full of snacks, the boys retreated to Takeshi and Satoshi’s room upstairs. Satoshi sat at his desk, attempting to tidy his mess, while Takeshi and Daisuke sat on Takeshi’s bed, sharing an opened bag of chips.

“So…” Takeshi began.

“So…” Satoshi echoed.

Takeshi glared at Satoshi, and he smirked back. Daisuke laughed at his friend’s antics before munching on a handful of chips, cutting through the tension in the room.

“Tell us why you like Risa-chan,” Daisuke started.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Takeshi asked. “She’s adorable.”

“Then why’d you only start liking her recently?” Satoshi quipped.

“Hey, if you wanna take the floor, then you spill.”

“Do you want to cry?”

Both Daisuke and Takeshi looked at Satoshi, mortified, but he just laughed. Perhaps it was in bad taste to joke about what had happened to him, but Satoshi didn’t have any deep secrets or life problems to spill besides it.

Takeshi pouted. “You’re disqualified from speaking from here on out.”

Satoshi gave him a thumbs up with a smile. Takeshi returned it before he began to rock back and forth like a metronome.

“Honestly, I don’t really know, man,” Takeshi admitted. “After Harada-ane moved away and Harada-imouto started to hang out with us a lot more, I jus’ started to pay more attention to her an’ all. Next thing ya know, I’m daydreamin’ about her in class.”

Daisuke nodded while Satoshi blinked. He didn’t mind talks of romance when casually mentioned or joked about, but he felt uncomfortable hearing Takeshi talk about it so sincerely. He opened the box of matcha Pocky and hoped no one noticed him snacking on something he would never willingly choose.

“And I can’t help it even though I think she’s got her heart set on another guy.”

Satoshi bit the stick of Pocky in half. His eyes bounced from Daisuke and Takeshi, noting Takeshi’s growing impatience and Daisuke’s obvious awkwardness.

Takeshi’s keenness never failed to surprise Satoshi.

“She probably likes you, Daisuke.”

“What? No…”

“Bro, have you seen how she acts around you? Look, man, I know you’re dense, but you can’t be that obtuse.”

Daisuke glanced over at Satoshi, eyes begging for help. But Satoshi zipped his lips, keeping to Takeshi’s words from earlier. And, honestly, he wanted no part in this conversation at all.

“Daisuke, please, be honest with me. I promise I’ll try my best not to take it personally.”

He sighed. “…I know. I’ve known for a while now, but I don’t know if she knows. And even if she does know, I don’t think she wants to acknowledge it.”

“Does she like you because you’re you or because you were Dark Mousy’s host or something like that?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure most of her feelings are coming from her residual feelings for Dark, but Riku also just moved away. I wouldn’t be surprised if she started getting attached to me, to us, to fill the void of her sister.”

Takeshi groaned before grabbing his pillow and digging his head into it. “Unrequited feelings suck, man.”

Daisuke nodded while Satoshi bobbed his head in reflex. He remembered the pang he felt when he realized how important Risa was to him despite knowing how she felt for Dark. His burgeoning feelings, no matter how fleeting, still haunted his mind. Somehow, someway, Risa always crawled into his life uninvited.

Unlike Takeshi, however, he couldn’t welcome any of those feelings he had for her.

Luckily, his friends didn’t notice his absent-minded expression as he stared at nothing in particular and precariously balanced the stick of Pocky in his mouth. When he came back to the conversation, Takeshi had a devilish smile on his face while he nudged a red-faced Daisuke with his elbow.

“Come on, you can tell us how far you’ve gone with Harada-ane!”

“Absolutely not!”

…

Satoshi woke up.

Daisuke and Takeshi were still asleep. And he was about to fall back asleep considering how late the trio had stayed up, but he saw slivers of light blue filtering through the blinds and the lethargic haze clouding his mind cleared up despite the sleep deprivation.

He sent Takeshi and Inspector Saehara a message saying he’d be out just in case they woke up while he was gone and, phone in hand, he left the house to grab breakfast for everyone. There was a coffeeshop by the police station he was partial to, and he didn’t mind taking the slight commute to get there.

Satoshi rarely found himself this alert so early in the morning, but he enjoyed the calm stillness of Azumano at dawn. If he began to consistently wake up at this time, he wouldn’t mind adding a morning walk to his daily routine.

He didn’t think the coffeeshop would be so busy on a Sunday morning, yet he saw a large group huddled around the register when he arrived. Satoshi noted how young they looked and wondered why a group of teens would be willingly awake this early on a Sunday until he saw Ritsuko intently looking at a tablet in her hands.

He went up to her. “Robotics competition?”

She turned towards him, initially shocked to see him there, but a smile quickly settled onto her face. “Yeah. It’s just an invitational, but we’re hoping to win something at least.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks!” she said. “How’s your sleepover going so far?”

“Fun.”

She smirked. “Did you actually fall asleep last night?”

“Yeah. And I woke up early.”

“Unfortunately?”

“Fortunately. I’m sort of starting to like mornings.”

She laughed. “Well, I wish you the best of luck on your transition to become an early bird.”

The barista called their order, and the group swarmed around the counter. Ritsuko stood up and slipped the tablet into her bag.

“Sorry to cut this short, but we’ve got to head out now. See you around?”

“Of course. Kick their asses.”

Ritsuko blinked, taken aback by Satoshi’s choice of words before letting out a hearty laugh. “Saehara-kun really has rubbed off on you.”

After Ritsuko left with her club, Satoshi ordered. He waited at a table by the counter, enjoying the ambiance and the light muzak as he skimmed through the news on his phone.

After they called his name, he ambled home with the food and drinks in hand, watching Azumano wake up with every step he took. As the sun continued to rise and the sorbet-colored sky turned its usual hue of blue, he saw stores open, joggers zoom by him, and the occasional group of elderly women briskly walk past him. Everything felt different from the lunchtime hustle, the evening rush, like a car engine humming to life instead of zooming down the highway.

He really could get used to this.

When he returned home, the house was still. He began to unpack the food from the bags when he heard heavy footsteps barrel downstairs. Satoshi froze in place, and the sight of Takeshi coming into the kitchen couldn’t shake off the fear.

“Bro, Harada-imouto’s coming over around lunchtime later!”

“Cool.”

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“You, um, scared me. With the loud noises and all.”

“Aw shit, fam. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Takeshi then noticed the food that Satoshi brought. He began to open the containers in excitement until he found an order he knew belonged to him. His face lit up before opening his arms. A proud grin eclipsed his face.

“Come here, brotha!”

“Too early. Hard pass…brotha.”

…

The boys (and Inspector Saehara) sat at the dining table, stiff from anticipation for Risa’s arrival. Inspector Saehara learned about his son’s feelings for the Saehara household guest after asking why the hell his son was making that much racket so damn early in the morning and, fully supporting his son’s infatuations, helped the boys clean up and splurge on some food from that fancy place he knew the Harada family frequented.

His boy’s gotta make a good impression somehow.

So, when they heard the doorbell ring, exactly at noon, they looked at Takeshi, begging him to let her in. They held their breath, pitying the lovesick fool when they heard his usual, confident babbling turn clumsy as he stumbled over his words. But when they heard the door close and saw Risa walk in, wearing a t-shirt dress that definitely leaned towards a casual ensemble for a day with friends than an outfit to catch a boy’s attention, they cautiously glanced at Takeshi to see his perception on Risa’s uncharacteristic fashion choice.

The boy was too ecstatic at her company that he was blind to her obvious message about how she truly felt about this.

Was this a success? Or a failure? They couldn’t tell.

“So,” Risa began. “what’s the plan?”

…

Risa insisted on starting with Whisper of the Heart.

Satoshi expected it have that whimsical fantasy that permeated the films he watched the evening before, but it didn’t. It had the whimsy, for sure, but he couldn’t connect with the realism of the film. So, while Risa, Daisuke, and Takeshi waxed poetic about the youthful vigor in the couple’s ending, the sentiment was lost on him, and he dismissed himself on the kitchen to “grab a snack” while the trio argued over what to watch next.

He stood next to Inspector Saehara who sat at the table that allowed for prime viewing of his son’s adolescence. He had a laptop in front of him, with Mama Saehara on the screen, and Satoshi waved to her. She didn’t notice since she seemed preoccupied with something else on her end.

“I didn’t realize you were in a call with her.”

“She’s just here to get real-time updates on Takeshi crushing over the Harada kid. We’re not actually having a conversation.”

“Because of what happened yesterday?”

“What do you mean what—” Inspector Saehara didn’t finish his sentence. He just began to laugh. “Oh, that? That’s nothing.”

“Nothing? But…”

“It happens all the time. Me an’ Ma are always arguin’ over somethin’. It happens with those yer close to, yanno?”

No, Satoshi didn’t know. The bemused expression on his face said everything, and Inspector Saehara guffawed.

“It’ll happen one day whether you’ll like it or not. Just don’t hate us when it happens, alright?”

Takeshi came in. “Bro, we’re starting My Neighbor Totoro! Hurry up!”

Satoshi nodded, following Takeshi back to the living room without any resolution to his conversation with Inspector Saehara.

He sat down in the recliner, distant from the trio on the couch. Risa was wedged between Daisuke and Takeshi, dangerously close to crossing the threshold of Daisuke’s personal space. The former was dangerously close to rolling off the couch over the armrest; the latter was dangerously close to crossing the threshold of Risa’s personal space. As an outsider looking in, the teens spelled out their emotions so plainly that it only hurt to watch.

Satoshi envied them. Of that innocence that allowed them to feel the emotions that come and go. To allow themselves to get caught up in a tempest of their feelings without worrying about how far-reaching the consequences would be.

The chipper tune of the movie’s opening brough his attention back to the TV. And while those on the couch sung along, he just nodded to the beat, unable to fight the smile threatening his face.

…

After the movie ended, to everyone’s dismay, Satoshi ducked into the restroom. When he returned to the living room, only Risa was there, lying down on the couch as she busied herself with her phone.

Clearly, this situation was in violation of Rule Number 2 of the sleepover code, but it seemed like there was nothing he could do to amend the broken rule.

“Where’d they go?” Satoshi cautiously asked.

“Daisuke’s parents called him during the movie, so he’s returning their call right now. And Saehara-san and Takeshi-kun stepped out to grab dinner.”

“So, your parents are letting you stay until then?”

“Yup! So we can squeeze in two more movies before I have to head back!”

“Which movies?”

“The Wind Rises and Howl’s Moving Castle.”

“Do they have romance in them?”

Risa winked. “Of course!”

Satoshi rolled his eyes. “I don’t understand your obsession with romance.”

“You don’t have to, but just know that you’re missing out on a fantastic genre.”

Satoshi shook his head, and she just giggled. “Maybe you’ll change your mind when you actually fall in love with someone.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“I wouldn’t end your sentence so quickly,” she sang.

“Perhaps, but I still think you’re slightly delusional.”

“But who isn’t slightly delusional when it comes to love?”

Satoshi wondered what possessed her to say that. And, when she met his gaze, he didn’t expect to see that earnest expression on her face. The Risa in front of him was no longer the adolescent girl who lived up the stereotype. This was the Risa trying to expand her horizons, to learn what lay beyond her perception of the world: the Risa that terrified him.

“Do you think I’ve lost it?” she asked in a whisper. “Being hung up over a ghost of a feeling? Of a person I can’t clearly recall in my memories? At the fact that you can’t fill the hole they left not matter how much you tell me about them?”

Satoshi hated this. He hated how easily Risa managed to skirt the edge of his comfort zone. She was precise enough to get her point across yet vague enough that it felt rude for him to strike that boundary. Not without him risking sounding like an asshole.

Not without him allowing her to cross a boundary he wasn’t ready for anyone, let alone her, to cross.

He began to formulate the words in his mind to say that he couldn’t answer that question, that he felt uncomfortable even being in the position of receiving her inquiries. Satoshi had to brace himself for her disappointment at him pulling away, but Daisuke came down before Satoshi followed through with the decision his mind was heading to.

“So, what’re we watching next?” Daisuke asked.

Satoshi nearly wept from the timing.

…

Sunday passed without any more drama. After they finished the movies Risa wanted to watch, she left without much fanfare, and the boys went through as much of the Studio Ghibli filmography as they could before they passed out.

Satoshi, however, woke up that Monday morning in a cold sweat with a splitting headache. So, while Takeshi and Daisuke left to pick up Grandpa Daiki from the train station, Satoshi floated in and out of consciousness while a familiar, winged Phantom Thief haunted his dreams.

#dnangel #d.n.angel #d.n. angel #dn angel #satoshi hiwatari #risa harada #takeshi saehara #daisuke niwa #my fanfiction #my writing #falling #we die like men without betas

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