#but allowing myself to sit on the floor in the corner of the airport instead of on a chair | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alloftheimaginess · 4 years

Text

Little Morgan

Ooc Spencer Reid.

Wordcount : 2727

After filming her latest movie After, overseas for the last year 26 year old Yn Morgan was seen headed to Virginia

I hold my phone in my hand as I pose for pictures with the fans I ran into at the airport even though I look like a literal pile of shit. I work with what I have which is filters and when they are done taking photos on their phone I pull out my phone and I go to my Snapchat and I use my phone to take selfies with fans and I take like 8 before adding them to my Instagram story, getting all of their instagrams so that I can tag them.

"Arrived home to so much love. I love you all 😘💕" I add to my Instagram story as well.

"Thank you so much Yn" one of them says.

"Of course no problem" I say hugging them again before my phone starts going off.

"It was nice meeting you all, I'll follow you when I get home" I say walking off and picking up my phone.

"Hey dad" I say as soon as I pick up.

"Hey baby did you land?" He asks.

"Yeah, are you here?" I ask looking around as I grab my suitcase.

"Yeah, I'm walking up right now. I had to park pretty far" he says.

"Okay, I'm making my way to the entrance" I say putting my suitcase down and wheeling it behind me and when I see him, I run over to him and he catches he, pulling me into a hug and I hug him back.

"Hi daddy" I say kissing his head.

"Hey baby. How was the flight?" He asks and I smile at him.

"To be honest I don't know. I was so excited to see Hank that I slept the whole time because if I didn't I would have exploded" I say and he laughs.

"How long has it been?" He asks.

"I only seen him when he was in the hospital and then I was filming supernatural and then when that wrapped I had to fly out from Canada to London to start filming After" I say.

"It's going to be so good to see him in person and not just over FaceTime" I say and he grabs my suitcase.

"Well he's waiting so let's go" he says leading the way.

"Are you okay?" He asks as he gets in after putting my suitcases in the trunk and I nod.

"Yeah, it's just a little weird if I'm being honest" I say buckling up.

"I haven't seen Savannah in so long and I don't want to feel like I'm intruding" I say and he quickly shakes his head.

"I understand, it's a new place. But take your time it's no rush to get use to things. And it's only two weeks but if it was longer you wouldn't be intruding. She's waiting to get some girl time in with you" he says smiling at me before he drives off.

"A few of my former colleagues are coming over for dinner tonight. So I'm just letting you know so you have time to shower and get ready" he says.

"Thank you for the warning. I need time to get presentable" I say smiling at him.

"Welcome home" he says opening the door and I walk inside happy to finally be here instead of living out of a hotel for the past year and a half.

"You did such a good job with the house, it looks nothing like how it use to look" I say looking around.

"Hey sweetie" I hear and Savannah walks around the corner.

"Hey" I say and she hugs me and I hug her back.

"I just started dinner, so you have time to get ready" she says and I nod and Hank runs around the corner.

"Ynn" he says running over to me hugging me.

"Hi Bubba" I say picking him up.

"You've gotten some big and cute. How old are you now?" I ask kissing his head.

"I'm three" he says holding up four fingers and I put one down, smiling at him.

"That's so crazy. I remember seeing you in the hospital as a little baby" I say.

"You seen me in the hospital?" He asks and I nod.

"Yeah, I was one of the first people to hold you" I say brushing his hair out his face.

"Hank, let Yn go shower" Savannah says.

"We'll finish this conversation later" I say putting him down and holding out my fist and he fist bumps me before running off into the kitchen.

"Everything is pretty much exactly where it was it's just updated so you should have no problem finding your way" my dad says and I turn to him nodding.

"Okay" I say going up the stairs to shower and get ready.

I walk down the stairs and I hear a lot of talking and laughing and I tug on my dress before walking around the corner "hey Yn come here" my dad says opening his arms and I walk over and he hugs me, wrapping one arm around my shoulder.

"This is my best friend Penelope, Penelope this is my daughter Yn" he says introducing me to the first person I see.

"You didn't tell me your daughter was the Yn Morgan" she says and I smile at her.

"Well I feel like I'm the only one" I say laughing.

"But it's nice to meet you" I say going to shake her hand but she pulls me into a hug.

"You are so beautiful" she says and I hug her back.

"Thank you" I say smiling at her.

"This is Matt and his wife Kristy, Hotch and his wife Renae, Luke, Tara, Rossi, JJ and her husband Will, Emily and Spencer" he says introducing me to everyone and I shake all of their hands.

"It's really good to meet you all" I say smiling at them.

"I'm with Penelope here. You didn't tell us who your daughter actually was" Luke says and I turn to my dad.

"It never came up" he says and Renae laughs.

"Never came up? We've known you for like 17 years" she says.

"Geez it's almost like you're embarrassed of me" I joke and he laughs rolling his eyes.

"How long are you with your dad?" Matt asks.

"Two weeks, I'm off from filming for a while so I decided to visit them" I say and he smiles at me and I smile back and Savannah hands me a glass of wine and I sip on it.

"You're an actress right?" Kristy asks and I nod.

"Yeah I am" I say smiling at her.

"What's that like?" She asks.

"When I was younger it was a really hard time for me, I started out on a show and then my mom made me join another cast at the same time and I was doing two shows at once and I wasn't use to it so I was very moody and always tired and then after that I did a season of a show and I was quickly done with that because it sucked so I moved on to movies to let myself relax" I say taking a sip of my wine.

"And you do both now right?" JJ asks.

"Yeah, recently I started doing tv again" I say.

"You were in the Netflix series. I think it was called a Time" Will says and I nod.

"Yeah, that's what made me want to start tv again and then I did a show called euphoria with one of my best friends who is like a little sister to me and then I did supernatural and went to work on a movie" I say.

"My girlfriend and I watched Euphoria" Tara says.

"What did you think?" I ask.

"You were so good. We talked about how you and Zendaya played the roles you got so good that it seemed so real" she says and I laugh awkwardly because for me it is very real.

"She told me the day she started filming that Savannah and I weren't allowed to watch it" my dad says wrapping his arm around Savannah.

"Her parts in the show weren't as bad as others but yeah as her parents I wouldn't watch it" she says and everyone laughs.

"What else are you in?" Spencer asks.

"Im in a new series called the umbrella academy. It came out earlier this year and I occasionally do a show called 9-1-1" I say.

"So you've been busy?" Renae asked and I nod.

"Extremely, but I like it. It helps me stay active so I don’t have rid to start thinking" I say drinking the last of my wine.

"I'm going to get a refill. Does anyone need anything?" I ask and they all shake their head continuing on the conversation and I go into the kitchen and I go to the wine and I pour me a glass and I take the plastic baggie out my bra and I put a little on my finger and I stick the bag back in my bra and I hear the door open so I brush it off and I look up to see Spencer and he smiles at me and I smile back.

"Hey" I say.

"Hi, can you top me off?" He asks setting his cup on the island and I nod pouring him a glass and I sit on the cabinet refilling mine.

"So Spencer" I say smiling at him.

"Yeah?" He asks, awkwardly smiling back.

"What do you like to do in your free time?" I ask.

"I don't really get free time but I guess I would have to say I like to read" he says.

"Oh yeah I can see that" I say and I grab my purse that’s on the far end of the cabinet, pulling the book out.

"You've probably read this but if you haven't you should give it a read and let me know what you thought about it. I just finished reading it on the flight here" I say handing it to him.

"How am I going to do that?" He asks and I pull a pen out and I open the front of the book, quickly writing my number in the top of the front cover.

"There you go. I don't know how fast you read but it took me three days so I'll be waiting on the call" I say.

"It's actually not going to take me that long" he says opening the front page again and he reads the first and second page in like 30 seconds.

"Oh my god I totally forgot you're like a genius" I say and he laughs.

"I'm not a genius" he says.

"Something only a genius would say" I say laughing and he looks up as I'm drinking my wine.

"Are you sure you want to give this to me?" He asks and I nod.

"I mean it's a bit too late, I was trying to be cute and write my number down" I say and he blushes a little.

"Yeah, you're right" he says quietly and I giggle.

"Hey, nothing to be embarrassed about" I say holding up my wine glass and I nod to him and he holds his up.

"Here's to fast friend outside of our careers and good books" I say and he taps his glass against mine at the same time I go to tap mine against his and I fall forward applying too much pressure and I catch myself but I break both glasses and the wine falls out and I instantly start laughing.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry" I say and he laughs with me and I jump down to grab some paper towels so I can clean up and he helps me and I hear the door open and I look up.

"Everything okay in here?" Savannah asks and I look up quickly over the island.

"Mhm" I say.

"All is good" Spencer says and she raises a brow.

"Whatever you heard nothing is broke" I say and she laughs.

"If you need another glass they are in the cabinet beside the stove" she says and the door closes and I finish cleaning and I sit back on the floor, with my back pressed against the island and Spencer grabs us more glasses and refills them and sits beside me handing me one.

"Thank you" I say and he smiles at me.

"Here's to fast friends outside of our careers, good books and extra wine glasses" he says and I snort laughing.

"Here here" I say gently tapping his glass and we both drink at the same time.

"Anyone ever tell you how easy it is to get along with you?" I ask and he quickly shakes his head laughing.

"Never and you only say that because I've had to stop myself from pulling out all the ramblings and unwanted facts" he says and I laugh.

"Don't let me stop you, I'd love to hear some of your best facts" I say and he smiles at me and I smile back and I start to lean in and the door opens and we both quickly pull away.

"And that's when I walked out of the Emmy's" I say and my dad clears his throat and I stand up.

"What's going on in here?" He asks.

"Well I was coming in here to refill my glass" I say.

"20 minutes ago" he says.

"And Spencer came in and we started talking and I gave him a book and then I went to cheers his glass and I broke both of ours and had to clean it up and then savannah came in and told us where the spare glasses were and then we refilled our glasses" I say and Spencer stands up.

"Leave them alone" Savannah says coming in to check dinner and I laugh at my dads face and Spencer's phone goes and he looks at it and he sighs.

"I have to go" he says and my dad nods.

"I'll walk you out" I say.

"You don't have to" he says.

"I know but I want to" I say.

"Be careful and I'll see you Sunday" my dad says hugging Spencer who hugs him back and then he hugs savannah as I walk into the living room.

"There you are Yn" Penelope says and I smile.

"I'll be right back to talk, I'm going to walk Spencer out" I say and she nods and Spencer comes to say bye to everyone and I walk him out.

"It was nice getting to meet you, you are way cooler than what I've heard" I say laughing and he laughs and it dies down and it gets awkward.

"Okay I'm just going to come out and say it because I've learned my whole life to just be bold but I like you, like really like you and the time I've talked to you has been the most fun I've had in like the past year and I know it might be weird because our age gap and the fact that I'm Derek's daughter and you're probably taken because only an idiot would ever turn you down and now I'm regretting even saying anything about liking you but it's true and I'm sorry if things are weird between us now but I thought we were having a moment in the kitchen earlier but I'm an idiot and I don't actually know if it was what I-" he cuts my endless rambling off with a kiss and I kiss him back before he pulls away.

"I'm sorry I don't know why I did that" he says.

"It's okay, I don't mind" I say smiling at him.

"I wouldn't normally do that but there's just something about you" he says and I push his hair out of his face, my smile growing bigger and I clear my throat.

"I should head back inside before they get suspicious but call me when you finish the book" I say and he squeezes my hand and I smile at him running back inside and when I get into the house I watch him pull off and I shut the door.

238 notes · View notes

transsergio · 3 years

Note

154 ("Are you sure you two aren't married?") with Moreid !

this is an ask i asked myself (ashdsd) a month ago and i’ve had the draft sitting in my docs for that long it’s driving me nuts just t a k e i t (ROUGH EDITING WARNING)

1.5k words, Moreid, rated G for God Why Can’t I Finish Anything

The case was over. At least, in terms of the unsub. In terms of their trip home, they were yet to leave LA. The rest of the team were on their way to the airport, but Morgan demanded a detour.

“We’re going to make everyone wait,” Spencer complained.

Morgan shrugged, casually parallel parking their hulking SUV. He leaned over the center console and pointed at the coffee shop wedged into the street corner. “The team will be fine. I need whatever they’re selling if you want to make it to the jet in one piece.”

Spencer sighed but gathered his shoulder bag in his lap. If nothing else, he really didn’t want to spend any more time in the California heat. How many cases did they really need in the dead of summer? Spencer knew the statistic, but it didn’t make the temperature bearable.

Before Spencer could reach for his door handle, Morgan had yanked it aside for him. He beamed down at Reid like this was some kind of victory.

“I can open my own doors,” Spencer grumbled as he scrambled from the car. Morgan scoffed behind him.

“I would also accept a ‘thank you’,” he teased.

Spencer didn’t return the favor. Instead, he strode into the coffee shop by himself and let the glass door shut behind him. He only looked over his shoulder once he’d claimed a place in line. Waiting in the Los Angeles sunshine, Morgan stood with his hands on his hips and an eyebrow raised. Spencer was sure he was glaring behind the sunglasses as he stood, statuesque, a full ten to twenty seconds before breaking down and opening the door himself. Spencer didn’t try to hide his smirk.

The line was only six or so customers long, but the room was tight. There were no tables inside, only staggered chairs to discourage patrons from sitting around and having a bite. Nonetheless, the glass case beside the register was stuffed with pastries – most of which were loaded with some kind of cream cheese. While Spencer debated going back to the car and grabbing his Lactaid, Morgan scanned for the options with the most protein.

They shuffled forward bit by bit and tried to settle their order, knowing Derek would be the one to do the talking.

“I’ve got a tall black coffee and a breakfast sandwich. You?”

“Do you think they do Frappuccinos?”

“I would say, yeah. This is LA, Reid.”

“Fair point. Alright, then an iced caramel Frappuccino and… a chocolate croissant.”

Morgan folded his arms over his chest. “Really? You’re going to put away all that dairy?”

Another customer cleared the counter and they inched closer.

“Yes, Morgan, really. I know what I’m doing.” Reid rolled his eyes.

“I know you do. But I’m the one sitting next to you in a metal tube for five hours.”

“So?” The more Morgan tried to parent him, the more defensive Spencer became. “Parent” wasn’t even the right word, but Spencer was never sure what Morgan was doing – it felt protective, but verged on condescending. And it was different when they were out in the field. Reid didn’t mind being tackled to the ground when they were suddenly under gunfire, even if he whined about grass stains later. Morgan never hit him too hard anyway. What he did mind was being thought of as a child, even if he was one comparatively.

Morgan shrugged. “Don’t come crawling to me when you’re gassy for half the flight.”

This conversation was now bordering on paternal.

Spencer kept his mouth shut as they scooted over the sticky tile floors. God, he wanted to go home. When they finally reached the register, he cringed as Derek laid his palms on the cashier’s counter. He watched Morgan mask his disgust as he slowly drew his hands back and wiped them on his pants. At least they had that much in common.

The cashier took Derek’s order and asked, “Anything else?”

Derek looked to Reid expectantly. Spencer furrowed his brown and nodded. Morgan didn’t need to double-check with him. He was an adult who’d made up his own mind, for the love of God.

Derek returned to the barista as if they were throwing caution to the wind. “And I guess, a grande caramel Frappucino with a chocolate croissant, please.”

“Iced,” Spencer mumbled, nudging Derek’s elbow.

“Sorry, an iced grande caramel Frappucino.”

The barista’s eyes flitted between the two of them, though she said nothing. She handed Derek his change and they moved to wait at the end of the counter.

“Was that so hard?” Spencer asked under his breath. He didn’t need to glance up to know Derek heard him; Derek always did, even when the team was working too fast and their voices piled on top of each other. Spencer’d have his eyes trained on some mark in the table, a wrinkle in their documents, or the only non-bloodied piece of evidence as he spoke. When he eventually made eye contact, Derek would be set on him and him only. Reid wasn’t sure if he felt like he was being watched, or paid attention.

And since Derek made no comment, he must’ve ignored him. Like he was a petulant child.

Or, he was still trying to wipe the mess from his hands.

When Spencer realized it was the latter, he dug into the outside pocket of his bag.

“Here,” he offered, taking Derek’s hand in his own. He squirted a hefty helping of hand sanitizer into Morgan’s palm and without thinking, rubbed it in himself. It was an economic decision, Spencer decided, considering he only had so much hand sanitizer. Sharing is caring, right?

Morgan kept quiet until the little bottle was tucked into Reid’s satchel again. He murmured, “Thanks.”

Spencer nodded. It was Derek’s turn to avoid eye contact. Maybe he just didn’t like the reverse; that Spencer could take care of him for a change.

“Reid? Spencer Reid, your order’s ready,” a barista called.

Spencer rolled his eyes. Of course Morgan used his name. It was a turn-taking system that allowed Spencer to speak as little as possible, but made Morgan feel like coffee was a two-person job.

At least they each carried their own drinks. As they were heading out, Morgan ahead of Spencer just to hold the door for him, the barista yelled after them.

“Mr. Reid, wait! Your husband’s food!”

Spencer whirled on his heels to see one of the staff dangling a paper bag over the edge of the counter. He stumbled towards them with intermittent glances behind to make sure Morgan didn’t follow him. God, he hoped Derek didn’t hear that. The whole jet would be in on the joke in under an hour.

Reid thanked them and took Morgan’s sandwich, all while trying to correct the mistake. “Actually, we’re just co-workers.”

The barista looked him up and down. “You sure you two aren’t married?”

“Pretty sure,” his voice cracked, “But, thanks again.”

Reid’s cheeks heated. They had to be bright red. He could hope he was as pasty as always, but he’d also need Morgan to be so hungry he didn’t notice… whatever this was. Spencer had been humiliated plenty of times in his life, and this didn’t feel like that. It wasn’t his mistake, after all. But something inside him burned.

Sure, there were indicators that they were closer than your average peers. Those same indicators popped up with everyone in the unit. It was bound to happen when you spent the majority of your time around the same six people, more-so when four of those six people were highly trained behavior analysts. But had anyone ever thought he was dating Prentiss, or engaged to Rossi? If they did, they’d never be confident enough to say it out loud.

Spencer flashed through the last twenty minutes of his life. He had never shared hand sanitizer with Prentiss, had never had Rossi care enough about his dairy intake to say something. Had never felt so over-protected and playful and embarrassed at the same time. Was that how Morgan flirted? It couldn’t be. He saw how Morgan and Penelope treated each other. It was blatant, grossly sweet, or plainly gross. But they were kidding (on some level). If Morgan was genuinely flirting, would he hide it?

He was at the car before he could come to a conclusion. Morgan swung into the driver’s seat and took his sandwich from Spencer’s limp hands.

“Reid. Kid. What’s going on?”

“What?” Spencer asked. He turned to Morgan. Derek’s sunglasses sat lower on his nose now. His brow was creased and he held Spencer at eye contact-gun point.

“What’d the barista say in there? Looked like you were talking.”

“Oh,” Spencer shook his head. He tried to focus on situating his bag under his seat. “Nothing. Just making sure it was the right order.”

“You sure?”

Spencer sighed. “Yes, Mom. I’m sure.”

Derek backed onto the street and the tangled web of LA highways in silence. The radio filled in some of the gaps as Reid fiddled with the stations and LA drivers were liberal with their car horns. As they slowed into stop and start traffic, Derek relaxed his grip on the wheel. He cocked his head to the side.

“Kid?”

“Yeah?”

“Never call me ‘Mom’ again.”

Oh. So maybe this wasn’t paternal after all. Reid blushed.

#criminal minds #moreid #derek morgan #spencer reid #cm #mine #Anonymous

47 notes · View notes

rafecameron · 3 years

Text

dancing on my own

request: Angst with no happy ending? How abt *insert actor/character* getting married and their ex (the reader) kinda 'forcing herself' to go to the wedding bc she really wants to see their mutual friends again but like doesn't wanna see the wedding. And reader just watching the love of their live get married and be happy with someone else and their heart silently being ripped apart? Too cruel?

pairing: ex!luke patterson x reader

word count: 2.1K

warnings: heartbreak, no happy ending

a/n: here you go cruel anon. turns out im not that great at heartbreak but hopefully this makes your heart crack a little bit. (also idk if people read authors notes but my requests are currently closed!)

Y/N thought back on all the times she could have turned around. When she was getting into her car. When she reached the airport. When she queued to board the plane. When she checked into her hotel. When she began to get ready. Now she was facing the very last time she could turn around. Stood outside the venue, all dressed up with no one to walk her inside. But just like the times before, she didn’t turn around, she pushed on. Her heart breaking a little more with each step, she knew that surely by the end of the night there would be nothing left but crumbs. She had promised herself two things before this trip. Number one; she would not speak to him. Number two; she would not cry. She wasn’t entirely sure she would be able to keep either of the promises to herself, but repeating them in her head made her feel that little bit calmer.

She situated herself beside a table lined with drinks, helping herself to a flute of champagne. She was anxious for the doors to be opened so she could find a seat, somewhere in a corner at the back would suit her just fine. Out of sight of anyone who would surely recognise her, she had no intentions of engaging in conversation until the reception. But seeing as what was happening today she should have known it would be her unlucky day.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” a voice speaks beside her and she turns, landing eyes on someone she had not seen for far too long. His suit was tailored perfectly to his body, his long hair tied in a bun at the back of his head. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.” He pulls her into a hug.

“I wasn’t sure I would either,” she admits as she pulls away, “I wasn’t going to, but I wanted to see everyone...most people.”

Willie laughs softly, “I’m glad you’re here, sit beside me?” He asks, motioning with his head towards the doors that were being pulled open.

“Oh, I was just gonna sit in the back,” she stumbles over her words as Willie takes ahold of her hand, “Aren’t you going to sit with Alex?”

“He’s preoccupied.” Willie states simply, ignoring her protests as he pulls her towards the front of the room to take a seat in the front row.

She sighs as she sits down beside him. The sick feeling in her stomach growing as the room slowly became more and more full, people lining up on the benches and getting ready to watch the ceremony.

Willie reaches down and takes ahold of her hand again, giving it a light squeeze and offering a comforting smile, “You don’t have to stay.” He whispers.

“I do.” She nods, “I want to see everyone, I won’t stay all day but I need to at least say hello now I’m here.”

Willie nods his head, squeezing her hand one last time and patting her knees before turning back to face forward, the ceremony would be starting any minute and she found that her eyes were glued to the pattern on the floor.

For the entirety of the ceremony she didn’t look up. She didn’t want to risk meeting his eyes, didn’t want to see her friends sympathetic looks and definitely didn’t want to see the bride looking beautiful in her white dress. She tried her best not to listen, she couldn’t stomach hearing the vows and knew if she heard the words I do in his voice she’d cry. So she thought about anything else but what was happening in front of her.

She finally looked up when the couple was safely past her line of sight, eyes instantly meeting that of an old blonde friend. He gave her a wave, she was sure the smile was supposed to make her feel better but she just felt more pathetic. Why was she even here? She’s sure the invite was out of politeness and not an actual invitation to come. And if her friends were going to be tiptoeing around her and treating her like a porcelain doll she wasn’t sure she could cope. The nicer people were to her about this the more likely it was she would break down.

She didn’t want to think about it, about him, sure she was at his wedding but that didn’t mean this day had to be about him. She wanted to have a catch up with her friends, avoid her ex the whole night and then go back home, cry with a bottle of wine and forget this whole thing ever happened.

“I’m glad you came.” Alex says as he reaches her, pulling her into a hug, “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, it’s good to see you too.” She responds truthfully, “Can we go to the reception? I think I need a drink already.”

Alex laughs, taking Willies hand in his own and leading the way towards the after party. The amount of people that were there she was sure she would be able to avoid the groom for the night. She found herself situated on a table with her friends, helping herself to a glass of wine and making sure the bottle was kept close to her.

No matter how excited she was to see her friends she found that now she was here she was finding it hard to hold a conversation. The group around her were still familiar with each other, still seeing each other and having things to talk about, she felt a little like a spare part. But still she smiled along and listened to their conversation. Something about a recent party they had attended where Reggie had drank a little too much, she laughed along with them unsure of what else to do. The more they spoke and tried to involve her in the conversation the more she realised she didn’t really know the people around her anymore. Sure she had good memories with them and she would always consider them her friends, but she didn’t really know them.

The best thing about weddings it that you can be invisible if you wanted to be. The bride and groom were always busy, everyone wanting to talk to them and congratulate them, and the drunker the guests got the easier it was to slip away from conversations and merely watch the scenes unfold. Which is exactly what she did. She watched her friends get drunk and progressively louder, not noticing anymore if she wasn’t joining in their conversation. If the night continued this way she was certain she would make it out in one piece.

She thought she was doing a pretty good job of avoiding the one person she feared seeing the most. But halfway through the night a hand landed on her shoulder and a familiar scent filled her nose. She felt her skin ignite where his fingers touched and she begged the butterflies in her stomach to go away, to fly away and disappear forever.

Turning in her seat she finally meets his eyes for the first time that night, forcing a smile onto her face as she stands up and allows him to pull her into a hug. Her heart hammers in her chest and she uses every ounce of will power within her to not shed any tears, she felt the epitome of pathetic. Wanting to cry at a wedding like she was in a bad romcom movie. Only if this were a movie she’d get the guy, or a second guy would come sweep her off her feet and make her forget the first one was ever there. She didn’t see that happening anytime soon.

“Thanks for coming.” Luke smiles, “You look great, that colour really suits you.”

She returns his smile with a tight lipped one of her own, “Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself.” She attempts a light hearted laugh.

She looked away, she couldn’t stand looking into his eyes any longer, his gaze intense and stirring way too many different emotions inside of her. She wanted him to be horrible to her, to tell her to leave and never come back, not to tell her she looks great. How was she ever supposed to get over him when he was nothing but nice to her all the time. She wished he had done something at the end to allow her to hate him. Cheat on her maybe, or tell her he never loved her, then maybe she’d stand a tiny chance of getting over him and moving on with her life. Instead he was selfish and kept her at arms length because he knew he always could and that should have been enough for her to stay away, but she just couldn’t.

“Congratulations,” she looks back at him, eyes settling just above his to avoid his gaze, “You seem really happy, I wish you all the best.”

“Thanks,” he smiles and it’s genuine, something which breaks her heart a little more.

Of course she wants him to be happy, but a bigger part of her wants him to be happy with her and not anyone else. She knows that’s selfish, but that doesn’t stop her from trying to wish it into existence no matter how futile she knows it is.

“Have you met Jess?” He asks, placing a hand on her shoulder as though about to lead her somewhere.

“Oh, no I haven’t but she looks busy,” she quickly shrugs his hand off, the bride she could see from the corner of her eye, laughing at something another guest had said, “I’ll introduce myself later.” She lies.

The only thing she could think that would be worse than this wedding was having to actually meet the bride. To meet her replacement, the better version. The one who had stolen his heart and been worth enough to keep it forever. She forces a smile and excuses herself to the bathroom.

As she reaches the bathroom she can feel her eyes stinging, shutting herself in a cubicle she fans her face, determined not to let a single tear fall. She had made a promise to herself and the least she could do was keep it. She leant her head back against the door, letting out a shaky breath to compose herself.

Once she was sure she wouldn’t cry she exited the bathroom again, thankful to see that he was no longer at the table she had just ran from. She took her seat and no one asked where she had been or if she was okay, she was glad for that at least.

As the night wore on she thought she was doing okay, one little hiccup but no tears since, she’d even found herself genuinely laughing at a couple points. He’d spoken to her and she hadn’t thrown up on his shoes, he had no reason to try and speak to her again.

But then it was time for the first dance and she felt her chest tightening. Her calm composure being over taken by a sinking feeling of dread. She watched for a minute, watched him hold her close and smile. Watched him lean in to kiss her gently before spinning her under his arm and pulling her back in. She wished more than anything that it was her in his arms, her who he still looked at like the world shone behind her eyes. But it would never be her again, and his bride she was sure was far more beautiful than she could ever hope to be.

She watched as more dancers joined the floor, her friends among them. She tried to smile, but the sight was too much for her. Her friends laughing and dancing with their loved ones while she sat on the side lines and watched feeling like a stranger. The slow music a melancholy soundtrack to her emotions, reminding her of something she could never have.

She stands from the table, dragging her eyes over each person she knew, lingering on Luke for a moment longer before she turned and walked out of the room. She knew that this would be the last time she ever saw him, because she knew seeing him happy with someone else would be a slow form of torture. So she walked away, from him, from her friends forever, leaving whatever little pieces were left of her heart behind. By the time she exited the building she felt nothing more than a hollow shell and she finally let the tears fall.

tags: @lovesanimals @makebank @chrlsgillespie @crybabyddl @marinettepotterandplagg @caitsymichelle13 @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @alexpjoyner @meangirlsx

#luke patterson x reader #luke patterson fic #luke patterson imagine #jatp fic #my writing

118 notes · View notes

willadisastercry · 3 years

Text

Sleep deprived Keith annoying the crap out of the other paladins before crashing

Tw: depiction of sleep deprivation, insomnia, needles.

Keith has trouble sleeping sometimes... but this is a new level for him. His teammates can’t remember the last time he looked well slept and neither can he. They also don’t remember him being this hyper or social with them, like literally ever.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Shiro so annoyed,” Lance whispered over a crouched Pidge as they peered around the corner into the control room.

Keith was hovering around Shiro as he typed away on the panel in front of him, working out the strategy for their next mission.

“Well, if you really think about it, the Galra are kind of like space Russia, they have a lot of real estate, the people are really tall, and—hey, wait why wouldn’t we infiltrate the loading dock first? That’s the most reliable route because the lions won’t be far, we can just cloak them ya know, like all stealth? and if we go in where...”

“I think his mouth is twitching, watch. There it is, it did it again!” Pidge pointed out, her eyes wide in amazement.

The older boy’s mouth was indeed twitching, the corner pulling up like he wanted to say something as well as drop someone, but he refrained from both.

“I think I would’ve punted Keith across the room by now... do you think Shiro meditates, he must meditate, ya know? He’s always so calm and reasonable, always telling us that we have to breathe and whatever, no one can possibly be that zen without—“

But before Lance could finish his analysis on Shiro’s freak ability to be so zen, the basis of his argument shattered with an explosion from their team leader.

“I can’t even hear myself think, Keith!” Shiro started, a vein very visibly pumping away on his forehead as his face took on a dark flush.

“I have been watching the same surveillance loop for five minutes now beccause I can’t focus with you rambling in my ear!”

The red paladin’s face fell, his antsy pacing halted and his hands tapping his side like he was anticipating something. He took a breath. He hadn’t realized he’d started trembling.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—fuck,” Keith said before turning away, “I’ll leave you alone.”

Lance and Pidge nearly toppled over with how aggressively they flung themselves away from where they had been perched while they eavesdropped. Mostly out of curiosity at how Shiro would handle a manic-ly energetic Keith.

They could hear Shiro cursing under his breath, then ushering an apology for being so harsh but Keith likely didn’t hear it as he hightailed it out of there. He moved so quickly he didn’t even notice the pair as they stood planted in the center of the hallway failing to feign even the slightest of nonchalance.

Shiro ducked his head out to find that Keith had already disappeared and became wildly flustered when he found the very guilty-looking pair instead.

“Uhuh,” he cleared his throat, “do you guys know what’s going on with Keith? I didn’t mean to be such a dick, but he’s like next level tweaking out and I have no idea why...”

“Uh, we’re not sure either,” Pidge replied, “but he’s been like this all morning.”

“Yeah, he made Coran snap and crack a crystal in half earlier...”

“Oooo and Allura stained her dress when he wouldn’t shut up about how human mice carry infection and probably shouldn’t be near food and then she like flung her coffee...”

“And poor Hunk was trying to entertain his ramblings about the how hard it is to attain cinnamon in space and that it should be rationed and ended up burning a whole batch of snickerdoodles...”

“He was bouncing off the walls, it was weird” Pidge resolved. “And Keith never has that much energy.”

“Yeah, he’s been rambling, that’s my thing! The kid hardly says more than five words in one sentence and now he can’t shut up,” Lance added, scratching his head.

“Okay,” Shiro looked like he was running over in his head a million possibilities of what could be wrong, “will you two go check on him for me... and let him know I didn’t mean to yell at him?”

“Of course.”

“We’ll let you know if we figure it out,” Lance promised before they started after their friend.

They checked the common room first as it was the next room on their way and found only a grumpy Hunk scraping the singed bits off of the plate of cookies in front of him.

“D’you see Keith?” Pidge asked, surveying the sight before her.

“No,” he gruffed sadly, taking a bite of one of the cookies and breaking it off with a loud snap.

“Okay, keep an eye out, we think something’s wrong...” Lance looked around, “I know where he might’ve gone but we have to grab something first, let’s go.”

They took off at an urgent trot, once again more out of curiosity than concern because this just didn’t occur. Keith is a guy of few words, so when he speaks it’s usually sarcasm, not a rapid flurry of silly questions that seem more like the goofy blue paladin than the tempered red. This was weird for him. And they just wanted to know why.

But their curiosity changed quickly into fear as soon as they entered the hallway of the training room because they could hear the intense whir of the simulator working. From down the hall.

“Shit Keith,” Lance said activating their bayards they stopped to pick up on the way.

“He’s got it on the highest setting—not even Shiro can handle that intensity solo,” Pidge noted as they raced for the door.

“This kid’s got a death wish,” Lance deadpanned as he wrenched the doors of the training room open, only to be immediately met with Keith’s strangled scream as his head snapped against the floor with a sickening crack, the sentry that threw him across the room quickly closing the distance between them.

Lance ran forward and knelt down, slowly lining up shots and taking down the new sentries as soon as they regenerated while Pidge made her way to the kill switch.

By the time she got to the lever and tugged it all the way down Keith was dangling from his twisted arm and throat, shuddering gasps the only noise he was able to make in protest.

Lance had just taken out the second sentry cornering Keith with a head shot when every robot assailant powered down at once, the one choking Keith releasing his grip on his throat first, his arm pulling at an awkward angle as he fell before it was released. The pale boy let out a shrill gush before clamping his lips together tightly and pulling his slumped form up with the help of the wall.

“What the fuck was that, mullet?!”

He refused to make eye contact with his worried friends as he went to storm out like before, but this time he moved slowly, gingerly.

“I needed a good workout... to clear my head,” was all he managed. They could tell he didn’t want to let on that he was in pain, but the way he grimaced when his arm swung as he walked as well as the obvious bump protruding from his shoulder where no bone should be told them otherwise.

“Oh, that’s a load! That was not a good workout, that was a good ass-whooping! And I’m not entirely sure there’s anything left in your head to clear after the way it smacked the—“

“You’re hurt,” Pidge blurted. “The sentry dislocated your shoulder, I’m staring at the head of your right humerus and I shouldn’t be able to do that...”

“Oh... huh,” was all the mind he seemed willing to pay to his injury, his eyes bleary and wider than usual as he continued to walk away from them, but they persisted.

“We’re taking you to get that checked out by Coran. Right now,” Lance ordered.

“I’m good,” he assured, shouldering the door with his other arm.

Lance reached the door handle first and pulled on it, keeping Keith from going anywhere and spurring a low groan when his bad shoulder was jolted.

“Lance...”

He looked so tired.

He closed his eyes and continued to lean heavily into the hulking door of the training room. Under the bright artificial lights his skin looked greyer than it usually did, every bone in his face sickly accentuated and sharpened, the staple bags underneath his eyes hanging heavier than ever.

“Keith, you’re hurt and something else is obviously wrong so NO, we’re not letting you storm off to go pout to maintain your stup—“

“Shut up—“

Keith’s vision tunneled, his eyes fixed in a clearly unfocused haze as he stared at nothing.

“What?” Lance questioned, very caught off guard by the sudden interjection.

“I s-said shut u-up,” he whispered as he sucked in a shuddering breath.

The shrillness of Lance’s chastisement made his head swim and he blinked away the haze that came with the sudden levity.

“Hey, take it easy...”

It seemed the more he tried to control the tremor in his voice the worse his entire body seemed to shake.

He was fading; he could feel it.

The exhaustion had given way to anxiety as the adrenaline dripped dry allowing him to fully feel the pain in his shoulder as it pulsed angrily.

It was like the tide was washing out, the tumultuous waves of the storm that settled itself in his chest receding just before the next wave surged, and then he could feel everything he’d been ignoring.

Every individual bone seemed to ache with weariness and the pressure behind his tired eyes was so immense that it made him unsteady.

“Woah, what’s going on man?”

The floor suddenly seemed to shift beneath him, like he was walking on one of those moving conveyer belts in the airport that made your feet feel weird once you were back on solid ground.

“I think you should sit down,” Pidge urged, tugging worriedly at the hem of his shirt.

As much as his pride wanted him to protest he couldn’t seem to muster enough energy to even disagree let alone have a shred of cofidence that he could possibly get himself back to his room on his own.

They seemed to understand by his silence that he wouldn’t push away their help now and then he could feel firm hands on his good shoulder and back, guiding his trembling frame down to the floor where he came to rest his head on the knee that wasn’t bouncing.

“Where you at, mullet?”

The tinier hand had never left the middle of his back and rubbed soothing circles on the tense muscles beneath it.

“Can you tell us what you feel like right now?” Pidge asked before moving a hand to steady his restless leg.

He took a strained breath.

“D-dizzy... c-cold maybe, I-I don’t know why I can’t stop s-shaking.”

“That’s okay, don’t worry about that.”

“Here, this’ll help,” Lance added as he draped his jacket over Keith’s back, careful to not have it touch his injury.

“How’s your shoulder? Is anything else hurting?”

Keith thought about it for a solid minute, finding it sort of difficult to organize his thoughts and give Pidge an answer.

“Hurts a lot. S-so does my head... I have a headache—maybe... maybe a migraine I d-don’t know.”

“Is that what was bothering you before? The lights are pretty bright in here so that’s probably not helping... why don’t we start heading to the infirmary, before it gets worse?”

He nodded slowly against his knee and lifted his head up, his eyes still pressed together tightly. He pried one open to test his head but the swirling nausea and general agony that followed was answer enough.

“You don’t have to keep them open if it hurts.”

He hummed in acknowledgment and steeled himself as they took up his good arm and pulled him to his feet then waited for him to give the go ahead before making their way.

It was almost worse when his eyes were closed. The pounding in his head had only increased while they guided him, each step rattling his brain around so painfully that it almost distracted him from the instense heat in his shoulder.

He didn’t know why his head hurt so bad and why it was making his eyes so sensitive. He knew he’d hid it, but not hard enough to warrant this. He was also really tired, practically jumping out of his skin every few moments when he let his head tip forward slightly as if to nod off, which was entirely strange and alarming seeing as he was so drowsy he almost fell asleep while still walking.

He hadn’t noticed when they made it to the infirmary, only realizing when he was being pushed to sit down on something and a light was being shone across his now opened eyes.

“No! Oh-ouch,” he inhaled sharply when the light retreated and he was left seeing a blurred strip of bright white across his field of vision.

“I apologize, my boy, it had to be done. No concussion though! We have dimmed the lights for your comfort, the aversion is most peculiar given your injuries... “

He proded Keith’s shoulder blade and the inflamed area around it, earning a hiss when he tested the dexterity of the limb.

“The scanner detects significant ligament damage that will need to be corrected in a pod after I er... set the joint in its proper place. It will hurt for only a tick and I have several nerve blockers and muscle relaxers I can inject in the area to make the process less painful. Does that sound manageable to—“

But Coran didn’t get to hear Keith’s answer, the way his face greened and he clamped a hand over mouth was telling enough. He bit back a sob as he lurched forward, not enough time or notice for anyone to prepare before Keith was dry heaving, but they didn’t really need to worry because nothing but saliva came up.

“Were you at all ill before this today? This is the first time you’ve been sick to your stomach... when was the last time you ate?”

Silence only followed for a dobash before all three launched into different themes of admonition, but they all had the same anger to them. He knew they meant well, that they were just worried, but the bite to their words made his eyes sting like hell and he was seriously worried he wouldn’t be able to keep the tears at bay before Shiro was there telling them to be quiet.

He turned his head away and tried to breathe normally, but his chest was working up and his head throbbed pitifully and the movement made the burning in his shoulder deepen to where he had to hold his breath to keep from aggravating it. But Shiro’s warm, human hand was pulling his face towards his own, his eyes taking in Keith’s form and coming to several conclusions at once, the tension everywhere, the darkness under his eyes, the tightness in his jaw, the way his hands shook entwined about themselves...

“Keith,” his voice was so low and warm, he felt his chest pang at the gentleness in it. He closed his eyes, he knew what was coming next and he was both relieved and terrified for it.

“When was the last time you got a solid night’s sleep?”

He waited, even though they both already knew the answer and then it was when his hand moved to cup the top of his head that he finally broke. He didn’t need to speak for Shiro to know the answer.

Too long. It had been entirely too long since Keith could remember going to bed and waking up refreshed, each night only more frustrating than the last as he laid his head on his pillow and closed his eyes, knowing full well it wouldn’t work. Nothing did.

This week had been too much though. Running on empty on far too many missions followed by a dozen insomnia-induced late night training sessions trying to tire himself out in order to snag only a few hours of rest.

He’d just kept excerting himself and not ever properly recharging, but not on purpose, he physically couldn’t.

That part wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t help that, but he could let people know he was struggling and he had purposefully not alerted Shiro.

“Shit, Keith,” Shiro murmured with Keith’s forehead on his chest as he held back the sound of his crying, “you have to tell me when it gets bad like this! It’s not safe for you to be fighting and training when you’re not properly rested, you know that...”

Coran resumed analyzing his shoulder.

“And now you’re hurt because I snapped at you—Keith, I’m so sorry, I should’ve realized...”

“D-dont,” he managed through stiff breaths as Coran worked his bad arm gently out of his shirt, “s’not your fault, never is.”

Shiro set his jaw and eyed Coran who looked at him sadly and nodded.

“This conversation is far from over, but we have to get that shoulder fixed right now.”

Coran asked Pidge to gather some supplies and Lance to help him brace Keith.

“You’ll feel a small pinch in your arm now.”

He did. The area felt cold with the liquid that was now under his skin and Coran rubbed it for a minute before moving near his collarbone.

“This one might burn, but you’ll find it entirely numb in a dobash.”

This one was quicker, less to inject, longer to rub in so it spread. It burned and itched, earning a groan before he felt less of Coran’s fingers and more of just pressure.

“Oh, that’s... better.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

He felt someone kneeling behind him holding just below his shoulder and around his chest. Someone else was in front of him holding his arm up with their hand on his other shoulder, Shiro’s hands on his shaking one.

“Now I trust you’re familiar with what is about to happen, do you want me to explain what I am doing or—“

“Don’t explain, just—“

The pain that exploded with the hollow pop that followed was even grosser than the sound itself. Keith’s vision whited for a second and he was immediately ashen and panting as his body worked through the shock of the correction, his ears rang and so he wasn’t sure if he had screamed or not but with the way his throat ached he’d assumed he had.

Exhaustion weighed on him like a sopping wet blanket, making it difficult to keep his head up let alone his entire upper body. He wasn’t sure how long he had been leaned against Shiro’s chest once he started coming back to himself and realized he was the only thing keeping him upright.

Something was compressing his shoulder, pulling in places he didn’t quite like as it was wrapped tightly around the still damaged joint, making its way around his chest and back several times. Shiro held him away for a moment while something fell around his neck that held his arm against his chest and had an attachment to secure it to his side.

He tried to open his eyes and see what was going on but they were so very heavy and he was in awe of how he wasn’t entirely asleep by now, almost thankful for the steady ache behind his eyes as it was forcing him to keep them closed.

“You still there, Keith?”

He hummed into Shiro’s shirt in response.

“Hey, so we’re going to forgo the pod to repair all the torn ligaments for a little while. Coran thinks it’s best that you catch up on your sleep without the being frozen part... we’ll see how you’re feeling tomorrow, does that sound alright to you?”

It sounded superb to him. Truly.

He wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline crash or the general daze from sleep deprivation, but he was entirely checked out. Sufficiently out of it to care much about anything other than Coran’s lovely altean painkillers and the comfy pillow his head was now resting on.

Once he was laid down he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness almost immediately, the last thing he knew before he was consumed in bliss was the blanket that was being pulled up to his chest and Shiro calming words.

“Rest, buddy.”

And he finally did because now he actually could.

He wasn’t sure if it was the level of exhaustion he’d brought himself to or the threat of pain when he awoke, but whatever it was keeping him asleep he was grateful for it. Coran never even had to administer a sedative to keep him down during the night, just pain killers so he wouldn’t be woken up by his shoulder.

He slept for a day and a half after that, everyone taking turns watching over him while he slept so Shiro didn’t bring upon himself a similar fate.

The next time he was conscious coming deep into the next night, nearly early morning. Shiro stirred in the chair he was posted up in when Keith groaned and tried to turn over but cried out instead.

“Crap, what—hey... you’re okay,” Shiro soothed as he held Keith’s searching hand away from the thick layer of bandages covering his shoulder.

“It hurts, Shiro! It h-hurts!”

“I know, Keith, I know it hurts.”

Shiro sounded sad, Keith didn’t want to make him sad.

“I’m sorry...”

“You don’t need to be sorry for anything, bud.”

“I was stupid, I shoulda t-told you—just didn’t want you to worry.”

“I’m always going to worry about you, Keith. All of us are going to worry until you stop giving us reasons to,” he laughed weakly as he ran his hand through Keith’s hair while his breathing returned to normal.

“And until then, we’ll be here to make sure you don’t get pulverized by the training simulators and aren’t walking around delirious from not having slept in a week, okay?”

“Aha, yeah... okay.”

He tried to doze off again, but the steady pulse of pain in his shoulder seemed to prevent it. After an hour of trying, Shiro called Coran in who agreed it was also time to go into a pod.

“You will feel as good as new in no time, number four.”

Keith nodded absently as he rested his head back against the cushion in the cryopod before its doors closed with a whoosh and then cold surrounded him, lulling him off into another much needed sleep.

#keith whump #whumpee #vld #voltron whump #voltron fic #whump tropes #keith kogane #voltron fandom #keith angst #sleep deprived af #vld shiro #takashi shirogane #vld lance #vld pidge #worried teammates #keith needs a nap

73 notes · View notes

dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

Text

Green eyed Monster ~ PJM [Request]

➳➳➳Word Count: 3K

➳➳➳Genre: Angst, fluff

➳➳➳Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

➳➳➳A/N: I adore Halsey so much, she’s one of my inspirations lmao….Also this is so bad because I have writers block, it’s really starting to make me struggle right now but I am trying so Im sorry. If this isn’t what you wanted let me know and I will try again.

You'd never really experienced jealously until now at this moment, your body was boiling with jealously just from watching Jimin with her, but you knew there was nothing to worry about and he would never do anything to hurt you intentionally but it didn't stop your mind from racing all over the place and your brain jumping to from conclusion to conclusion without stopping to think logically. Jimin loved you and you loved Jimin that should be the only thing that mattered but the little green-eyed monster sitting on your shoulder didn't see it that way. It had all started because you wanted to surprise him while he was out here in America, thinking it would be a nice surprise but once you arrived you saw he had his mind on something else,

You were exhausted from work that day, you were working overtime to try and save up tickets to go and visit your boyfriend in America. Jimin had flown over for a series of concerts and you were left at home to work and look after your shared apartment but it didn't stop you from wanting to fly out and see him.

"Another day another dollar." You grumbled shoving the tip money you'd gotten that night into a glass jar you kept under your bed, you looked over at the clock on the wall and you knew you had an hour before your call with Jimin meaning you could go and have a shower so he wouldn't know you'd only just gotten in from work. It was a secret that you were going to fly out a see him, Taehyung had told you he would help you with the plane ticket if you wanted but you decided it was better for you to pay because you hated when other people paid for things for you. It had been that way since you started dancing Jimin, you made it clear you didn't want him to pay for everything because you didn't want him to think you were just using him for the money which he didn't think anyway, but he respected that was how you felt about the situation.

"Hi baby," You sang in the phone expecting the caller to be Jimin but when you heard Taehyung laughing you felt your heart sink a little, not that you didn't love talking to Tae but you were missing your boyfriend a lot.

"Hello to you too." He chuckled and you smiled softly to yourself trying to stay positive about why Jimin was late for his call, he was probably just busy with practice or something.

"Sorry, I thought you were Jimin." You sounded defeated and Taehyung knew how hard you were trying to stay happy for Jimin it was always the same when he went away. You would be happy for him because you knew how much everything meant to Jimin so you would never do anything to come in between him and his dream you just hated the distance the most when it came down to it.

"How much do you have?" He questioned wanting to know if there was anything he could do to help you out,

"I have enough for a taxi from here to the airport." You grumbled looking over at the money jars you'd taken out to count while you waited for Jimin to call you.

"Let me help you, by this rate you'll be able to see him in three tours time." You knew he was right but you didn't feel good taking money from him,

"Think of it as a loan, pay me back when you earn the money." You hummed and he chuckled getting excited to see you.

"Where is he anyway?" You asked looking at the clock it was one am for you in Korea which meant it was around 9 am for Jimin in Las Vegas, they were getting ready to prepare for the performance at the Billboard Music Awards.

"He's trying to teach Halsey the dance with Namjoon, the dance was changed when we sent it over to her." You hummed and smiled, you'd loved Halsey's music for ages and you were glad they were finally working with someone who wasn't just going to use them for their fame.

"Is she nice?" You asked getting into bed and laying down, Taehyung began telling you about all the time they'd been spending with her for the last two days and you smiled fondly.

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself Tae," You whispered finally feeling the effects of the long day you'd had,

"I'll get your ticket ready for tomorrow your time, late as possible okay?" You hummed and he smiled to himself knowing how much it was going to mean to Jimin that you were willing to fly out and see him.

"Goodnight Y/n," Tae whispered hanging up the phone and going to find you a plane ticket that was accessible for you at the earliest convenience.

When you arrived he was busy and you understood that it was his job to be busy but it didn't make it any easier to see him all over Halsey, watching them dancing and laughing together as though you weren't in the room. No one but the boys and management knew you were together, it was supposed to be kept a secret from everyone because it was easier to control what got out about the relationship that way.

"Y/n come here," Namjoon called noticing that you were staring at Jimin and Halsey from across the room, you slowly made your way over to the leader and kept your eyes trained at the ground.

"You're supposed to be keeping a low profile." He mumbled to you and you stared up at him, by that he meant stop staring at Jimin all the time you were going to make it obvious. There were cameras everywhere documenting the boys time with her for a series Halsey was doing for her fans.

"Sorry, it's just a little hard when he's all over her-"

"He's just doing his job, leave it." He finished for you before you could even get your words out, you nodded and walked away from him going back to the corner of the room you were sitting in. Taehyung came over to join you with a bottle of water and some snacks for you but you weren't hungry, you were too busy looking at Halsey and comparing her to yourself in every way you could and in your mind she was perfect in every way you weren't. Even dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie she looked amazing,

"I'm not hungry." You mumbled taking the water and slowly drinking from the bottle but keeping your eyes on them. His hands were lingering on her skin and ou felt yours boil,

"Has he introduced you yet?" Taehyung asked noticing where your eyes were going and you shook your head,

"He said he would last night but I know he's busy." You whispered trying not to come across as the jealous girlfriend. You weren't normally jealous, he was always surrounded by beautiful women but this felt different to you for some reason.

"Jimin!" Tae yelled beckoning him over, Halsey followed him and smiled at you bringing you into a tight hug and smiling.

"I'm Halsey,"

"I'm Y/n I'm-"

"Taehyung's best friend." Jimin rushed out, you and Taehyung both stared at Jimin and he was smiling at Halsey who was smiling back at you.

"Well it's nice to meet you Y/n best friend of Taehyung," You nodded and looked at her as she walked away, Jimin stayed behind for a couple of seconds.

"I know how to introduce myself Jimin, I'm just a friend to everyone else who doesn't know about us." He stared at you, he felt guilty for it coming across the way he did but he panicked not knowing if you were going to tell her or not.

"Plus I thought I was your best friend?" You giggled poking his cheeks but instead of blushing like he normally would at the action he moved away from your touch and looked around to make sure no one had noticed. You felt your heartbreak a little when he pushed your hand away and went back over to the dance floor, you tried to push it down that he was just a little nervous about the performance but then you saw them together again. Holding eye contact and smiling to each other, laughing at something you hadn't heard.

"He's just stressed about the stage." Taehyung tried to tell you but you knew he wasn't, you'd see Jimin nervous about something before and this wasn't Jimin nervous. This was Jimin flirting with someone else and you could feel your heart shattering whenever you heard them laughing at something,

"You should go and practise, I don't want to hold you all back." You whispered to Taehyung who slowly left you alone in the corner of the room to go to his position on the dance floor and continued to dance along with the boys.

You'd left the practise early to go back to the hotel room, you were tired from the plane ride and wanted to sleep a little before the big stage performance they would be putting on later. The door to your hotel room banged opened and Jimin was standing there with a giant smile on his face, you hadn't seen him smile that much in so long and it filled you with an immense amount of happiness that you jumped up from the bed to find out what he was so happy about.

"What's put you in such a good mood?" You giggled as he pulled you into his arms, his left arm was hanging around your waist and he bent down to kiss you making you giggle against him.

"Can a boyfriend just be happy to be with his girlfriend?" You giggled once again and kissed him your arms wrapping around his neck to bring yourself closer to him.

"I also have this-" He pulled away from you to show you the small bracelet which was around his wrist, you stared at it with a smile.

"A friendship bracelet from Halsey!" You continued to stare at the small bracelet and forced yourself to keep the smile on your face, you didn't want to show him that it was bothering you so much.

"She's like a best friend." You looked down at the floor and smiled,

"That's great Jimin, I'm glad you like her so much already." It was true, you were happy he was getting along with her it wasn't as though he wasn't allowed to have friends that weren't girls, he had plenty but this one was bothering you for some reason. You loved Halsey but maybe it was because of how he'd introduced you or the way he pushed you to the side when she was around but it was bothering you more than it should have done.

"I'm going to have a shower before tonight, do you want to join me?" You giggled pulling at his sweatpants strings towards the en-suite but he was staring at the phone and shaking his head,

"We're going to eat with Halsey,"

"We?" Your heart picked up thinking it was you and the boys with Halsey but he turned to look at you,

"Yeah, we're going to do a small interview there with her camera crew." Your heart slowed back down again and you nodded,

"Okay...Shall I meet you back here or am I going to the venue?" You asked looking at him and he shrugged his shoulders,

"Whatever is easier for you." With that, he left the room without giving you a kiss or a hug goodbye and you felt your heart dropping back down to your stomach at the thought of him being with her again. Did he not want to be seen with you? Were you embarrassing to him? You decided you were going to be as normal as you could manage tonight, picking out one of the best dresses you'd brought along with you and going to meet them at the venue.

You were dressed in an off the shoulder black skater dress which was thigh length and you were waiting in the changing room for the boys to come backstage and be with you, you knew you couldn't be out on the floor with them which is why you were in the changing room watching everything on a screen. The chemistry was hot on stage and you were proud of how amazing they had performed in spite of your feelings of jealously from before everything pushed away once you saw how it all worked on stage. Taehyung was the first one backstage with you and he picked you up in the air making you giggle at him being so childish with you,

"Ah! You guys did amazing!" You laughed and then looked at the sunflower shirt he was wearing,

"I'm so stealing this from you after tonight." Halsey started laughing from behind you, Taehyung put you back down on the ground and you hugged her once again.

"It's nice to see you again, I'm sorry you couldn't make it to dinner Jimin said you had a headache." You slowly nodded as you pulled away from her,

"Yeah but I'm all good now." You complimented her white suit and she complimented the dress that you were wearing, you were hitting it off amazingly until Jimin came over and threw his arms around you both and it brought back the fact that he told a lie to you and Halsey.

"You're so happy lately," You giggled looking up at him as he smiled down at you, Halsey was over talking to Namjoon and you were alone with Jimin.

"I have my two favourite girls with me, why wouldn't I be happy?" You smiled fakely and leant up to whisper in his ear,

"My headache is back I think I might go back to the hotel room." You felt him tense up as you mentioned the lie he'd told Halsey, you pulled away and locked eye with him.

"Baby-" You walked over to Taehyung and told him you weren't feeling well and that you would see him the next day instead,

"I hope you feel better soon," Halsey said with a pout wrapping you in a tight hug once again,

"I'll walk out with you." She said quick goodbyes to the boys and rushed out of the room with you, once you were alone in the hallway with no one but her bodyguard she linked your arms together.

"I'm sorry about Jimin, I had no idea you were dating." You shook your head trying to laugh off what she'd said,

"I-I'm just their friend, me and Jimin-"

"Relax, I know the signs." You sighed and rounded a corner she was still holding onto your arms,

"If I'd have known I never would have flirted back with him." You shook your head at her and smiled softly,

"It's fine, it's just in his blood to flirt." You mumbled but she didn't seem convinced that you were fine and wanted to somehow make it up to you for what she'd been doing,

"We'll go to dinner tomorrow and have a pamper night, how long are you in town for?" She was really trying to be friendly with you and you were excited about it you'd never really had girl friends before, just a couple of friends from school but you rarely spoke to them.

"I'd love that actually, I can't remember the last time I had a pamper night...I'm here for the rest of the week." She smiled agreeing to make more plans with you when she had the time but she was late, she handed you her number and let you leave in one of her cars back to the hotel.

The week had been by in a flash and now you were back home with Jimin in your shared apartment, after that night with Halsey and him lying to you both you talked it all out. He promised he meant no harm by anything he'd been doing and you promised him it was fine.

"Who are you texting?" He asked once he noticed you smiling so much at your phone, you smiled at him and showed him the collection of photographs that Halsey had sent you.

"It's from the week, did I tell you she took me dancing?!" You asked excitedly showing him videos of you both on the dance floor doing the boy with Luv dance, she was really fun to hang around with and Jimin could feel himself getting jealous by the second. Ever since you'd been hanging around with Halsey that week she was all you could talk about and he was starting to see why you were so off with him last week.

"Jimin look." You giggled showing him the matching necklaces that you and Halsey had gotten on the last day, it was a love heart locket with a photo of you both inside and your initials carved onto the front.

"Your little green-eyed monster is showing Jimin." You teased as he walked away with a pout on his lips, you chased after him and threw your arms around his neck jumping up onto his back and kissing his head.

"I LOVE YOU!" You yelled making him chuckle, he pulled you back down to the floor and stood in front of you, he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you sweetly,

"I am sorry for what I did." You hummed and kissed him again,

"Makeup sex for the 16th time this week?" You giggled kissing down his neck and sucking along the skin, he groaned out your name and you smirked knowing the effect you had on him.

"Come on then." He chuckled putting your phone down on the table and running with you up to your room together.

Tagline:

@yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @jooniesdarlingdimples @kpopfanfictionhoes @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c @callingmyangel @btsiguess-kpop @rjsmochii

229 notes · View notes

heyyyharry · 4 years

Text

Chapter 13: The Oscars

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Stay Mine)

…in which they attend the Oscars and Y/N almost misses it.

Word count: 5k

AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).

Song in the kitchen scene: A Million Times - Alice Kristiansen ft. Julian Lamadrid

Wattpad link (Thea as Y/N)

“And the Oscar goes toooooooo...HARRY STYLES!”

“Stop making fun of me!”

“I’m not!” Y/N plumped down on to the treehouse floor, sitting with her legs crossed as she shook Harry’s arm gently. “Come on. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“I’m not being hard on myself. I’m being realistic,” he replied, toying with a yellow leaf he’d found on the floor just to avoid making eye contact as they spoke. Y/N didn’t get why he was embarrassed and so doubtful of himself. She had seen him on stage when he’d been Romeo last year. He was one of the best kid actors and no one could convince her otherwise.

“Your new drama teacher was a meanie,” she huffed, arms folded across her chest.

Harry finally cast her a glance as the corners of his mouth turned up. “You’re not being objective. Mrs Berry was.”

“You’re a kid! Kids are allowed to make mistakes. That’s the only way they can learn and improve. My writing sucks but you don’t see me giving up.”

“Has anyone ever told you your writing sucks?”

“Celine’s brother.”

“He’s an arsehole.”

“Harry!”

“Sorry,” Harry chuckled, lifting both hands. “He’s a bum.”

Y/N didn’t laugh when he did. If her mum and dad knew he cursed all the time, they wouldn’t let her hang out with him anymore. “Well,” she exhaled. “I feel sorry for your teacher. She probably has nothing better to do with her life than crushing kids’ dreams because her dreams had died with her talent when she became a teacher instead of an actress.”

“Are you sure you’re ten years old?” Harry smiled, giving her a look that could be interpreted as either amazed or amused or both.

She’d never told him, but he had one of the best smiles she’d ever seen, which was why she was sure he would become successful. Having a great smile was a great quality for every actor. At least that was what her best friend Celine had told her.

“Are you sure you’re older than me?” she rebutted.

He lifted his shoulders in a half-shrug. “I’m gonna listen to you because you’re a know-it-all.”

She said nothing and launched herself to her feet, clearing her throat. He watched with a confused look on his face when she picked up his water bottle and held it with both hands like the way an actor would hold the Oscar statue.

“Harry is too shy to come on stage and accept this Academy Award,” she said, “so I’m gonna accept it on his behalf. He’d like to thank his family, his drama teacher Mrs Berry, and his biggest fan Y/N aka Bambi. These are the people who helped shape his career.” Harry doubled over laughing as she lifted the water bottle above her head. “Thank you so much for this award. Have a good night, Los Angeles!”

Y/N contemplated her reflection in the full-length mirror while Harry was watching her from the couch on the side. She cast him a sideways glance, to which he responded with a thumbs-up and a grin.

She sucked in a breath, looking back at herself. She looked different. She felt different. She had worn plenty of expensive gowns that didn’t belong to her and attended countless exclusive events with Harry before. But this. This was the Academy Awards. And she was wearing the kind of dress that was meant to turn heads on the red carpet, the kind of dress that models wore on the runway. She used to watch award shows with her best friends all the time, and could never imagine herself pulling off such elegant outfits. But now, she almost looked like she belonged at the Oscars.

She wasn’t wearing any make-up and her hair was in a simple low ponytail, so she knew the dress had done all the work to make her look desirable. Harry’s designer had taken the inspiration from the iconic silver dress in The Little Mermaid, when Ariel returned from the sea and reunited with Prince Eric. Harry had joked that Y/N resembled a fawn more than a princess, and she had smacked him hard on the arm, proving that she was neither.

“Is it too tight?” asked Meili – the designer. She was so kind that Y/N felt like they’d been friends forever. But on second thought, being a professional, it was Meili’s job to make her clients feel most comfortable in and out of her designs.

“No, this is perfect,” Y/N said.

“Are you sure?” She confirmed with a nod. “All right.” Meili patted her gently on the back. “How about we try walking?”

And so Y/N descended the steps and sauntered about the fitting area to make sure she was comfortable and able to breathe normally. Harry had risen from the sofa and come to stand beside Meili, his eyes dancing with amusement as he watched Y/N strike a silly pose.

“What do you think?” she asked him.

Instead of answering the question, he turned to Meili. “Can you show me how to take it off?”

Meili had quite a good laugh watching Harry with his hands up in defence as Y/N tried to hit him without hurting the dress. It was then that the sound of her ringtone from her bag came for his rescue.

He pecked her cheek and stayed to chat with Meili about his outfit while Y/N answered the call from her agent.

“Y/N!” Laura said before Y/N could speak. “What are you doing, babe?”

“I’m at the fitting for the Oscars.”

There was a pause followed by a dramatic sigh. “Oh, I nearly forgot that you’re attending the Oscars. Are you nervous?”

“Kind of.” Y/N giggled. “But I suppose you’re not calling me to ask what I’m doing, are you, Laura?”

“Of course not! I’d like to remind you that we’re having a party next Saturday!”

“Right, right, party–No!”

Both Harry and Meili whipped their heads back to gape at Y/N.

“What do you mean?” he asked. “I thought it was a brilliant idea–”

Y/N shushed her boyfriend as she indicated the phone to let him know she wasn’t talking to him.

“Hi, Laura!” he shouted, and Laura, who obviously had heard it, squealed like a schoolgirl and demanded to be put on speaker.

Y/N tapped the speaker icon as she slumped into the couch where Harry soon joined her, sitting with an arm around her shoulders. “Hi, Laura,” he repeated.

Laura laughed excitedly. “Hi, Harry! We’ve never met before but I’ve heard so much about you!”

“And I’ve heard so much about you!”

“I’m your client, Laura. Not him,” Y/N snorted as Harry kissed her temple.

“Oh, yes, right.” Laura cleared her throat to compose herself. “So what’s the matter? I thought–”

“The Oscars is next Sunday night, Laura. I have to catch the plane on Saturday morning. I can’t go to your party.”

“Your party, Y/N.”

“What party?” Harry asked.

Y/N opened her mouth to answer but Laura was faster. “To celebrate your girl’s debut novel! It hasn’t come out yet, but everything is settled. It’s a tradition. I always throw this party for my client. Everyone at the agency will be there and there will be some guests from the publishing house and some published authors. It’ll be grand.”

Y/N sucked in a breath and pinched her temple, her eyes met Harry’s. His expression was unreadable. To Laura, she asked, “Can we push it back a few days?”

“Absolutely not! I’ve sent out the invitations. You told me any date this month would do!”

Y/N had. And she kind of regretted it now. She’d been chatting with Gemma when Laura asked her about the date. Gemma had been devastated by what had happened with Winton, so Y/N had been busy comforting her and told Laura to just pick any date she’d like. It was all her fault; she should have reminded Laura about the Oscars.

Y/N glanced back at Harry, hoping he didn’t think she’d purposely prioritized her success over his. Because why would she think her first novel was a better reason to celebrate than his first-ever Oscar nomination?

But Harry didn’t seem vexed. His dimples appeared as he traced his fingertips along the strap of her sparkling dress. “It’s okay, Laura,” he said to the phone. “You don’t have to change the date.”

Y/N’s eyes went round as Laura hissed, “Yes!”

“Baby–”

“You’ll go to your party,” he said, “and I’ll send my ride to pick you up and take you to the airport. They won’t leave without you, silly.”

Right. She’d be travelling on his private jet.

“But...I’ll be late.”

“So?” He shrugged nonchalantly. “I can manage the first few hours without you. Why should your career be any less important than mine?”

“He’s right, Y/N,” Laura said.

Y/N swivelled in her seat to face him as she took his hand. “I’ll just come to say hello to the guests–”

“And give a speech!” Laura interjected, making Y/N roll her eyes and Harry chuckle.

“Fine, I’ll come to say hello and give a speech and then I’ll come to you.”

“Deal?” His lips twitched as he gave her his pinkie.

“Deal,” she said, hooking her pinkie with his.

The party was insane.

Y/N had specifically asked Laura not to overdo this, but the agent had insisted on throwing her favourite client the most Gasby party she could pull off. Y/N didn’t even know half of the faces who’d shaken her hand and congratulated her on her debut novel which hadn’t been released yet. She felt like a fraud. What if these people ended up hating her book? What if this party made her seem like a show-off? She was already dating an Oscar nominee; she didn’t want to be branded as any more privileged than that.

She kept the speech she’d promised Laura as short and simple as possible, then returned polite smiles to the guests as she made her way to the back of the room. She wouldn’t be surprised if these folks thought that she had zero personality. When it came to self-branding, she needed all the help she could get. How did Harry do it? How did he charm people into liking him before they even viewed his work? As much as she loved him, she couldn’t help but envy him sometimes.

She wiped her sweaty palms on her dress before getting another glass of champagne and finishing it a second before Laura came up to check on her.

“You okay? You look a bit pale,” Laura said.

“Well, I tend to get anxious at formal events,” Y/N snorted, shaking her head. “I usually attend these kinds of parties with Harry. He’d do all the talking and help me get involved in the conversation. He’s very charismatic.”

“I’m charismatic!” Laura said with a hand on her chest. Y/N responded with a smile. Laura wascharismatic. The problem was, Y/N was more comfortable with Harry. Or maybe she couldn’t help but feel guilty that she’d miss the red carpet walk with him. She hated to be the one to break a promise.

“You need to stop checking your watch like modern Cinderella at the royal ball.”

Y/N dropped her arm back to her side. “I’m so nervous, Laura.”

“About this party? People love you!”

“About...everything.” This party. Her 2 AM flight. The Oscars. Showing up late. Missing Harry’s category. Her book release. The likelihood of having people roast her book unforgivingly on the internet.

She had the tendency of freaking out over insignificant matters whenever good things kept happening to her. Because, as usual, bad luck would come for her when she was most defenceless and took away her joy. This time, she could feel it in her stomach.

Laura gripped her shoulders and squeezed them tight. “You are my superstar, Y/N. You are the shit. You are the most brilliant–”

“Okay, I get it, I get it,” she laughed, pulling Laura into a hug. “Thank you for tonight. I owe you so much, Laura.”

“Don’t be stupid. You saved my life. Literally,” Laura smirked and gently patted Y/N’s cheek. “Now, let’s go say goodbye to the guests. It’s almost time for you to go.”

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. She’d been waiting for this moment since she’d arrived. People might wonder why she seemed more energetic saying goodbye to them than when she’d welcomed them to the party. But she was just happy that she could finally leave. The last thing she wanted was to show up late for her flight (Harry had said the plane wouldn’t leave without her but she hated delays anyway) and missed more of the Oscar ceremony tomorrow than she’d allowed herself to.

The journey to LA happened in a rush. She’d slept for most of her twelve-hour flight because she’d been so exhausted. Harry’s bodyguard only woke her up when they were about to land. The next thing she knew, she was taken to his LA house. She had never been there before. It was much bigger than the one in London, but less homely, perhaps because she’d known every corner of the place that was supposed to be theirs. This one just seemed like a resort.

The hair and makeup team and Harry’s stylist were waiting upstairs to make her Oscars-ready. She’d eaten quite a lot on the plane before it took off, so she feared she wouldn’t fit in the dress. Magically, she did. And she felt so silly for feeling like she might burst into tears.

When the makeup artist asked how she’d like to have her makeup done, she told them to make her recognizable. They didn’t ask her to elaborate on that, so she hoped they knew what she meant. She didn’t want to be the centre of attention tonight, especially when she was going to show up late. The only attention she craved for was Harry’s and she was going to get it anyway, with or without this glamorous costume.

Fortunately, the makeup artist did a fantastic job. They gave her simple eye makeup and red lips and put her hair up into a classic high bun. It wasn’t until tonight that she couldn’t stop staring at herself in the mirror. Harry would be so impressed.

As Harry’s team did some final touches on her face, one girl showed her some clips and pictures of Harry on the red carpet. He looked dashingly handsome and comfortable, and when being interviewed, he said he loved her and couldn’t wait to see her later. The part of her that had been feeling guilty could finally let go of that breath she’d been holding. She thanked the makeup team for everything and came downstairs when her car arrived.

The chauffeur was a middle-aged man with greyish hair and a kind face. He was talking on the phone and ended the call as soon as he saw her. He looked rather tired, but before she could ask for his name and if he was feeling well, she remembered that she’d left her clutch upstairs, and so she asked him to wait while she went back to get it. He told her to take her time.

When she came downstairs for the second time, the man was on the phone again. He didn’t see her return so he didn’t hang up. Y/N couldn’t help but overhear the last part of the conversation where he told whoever he was speaking to that he would be at the hospital as soon as he finished his job.

“Is everything okay, sir?” she asked once he’d finished the call. He whipped around, seemingly startled to see her there. “You can tell me if something is wrong. I might be able to help,” she said.

The chauffeur looked hesitant at first. He worked his jaw for a moment before he could tell her, “My daughter...is sick. She’s just been taken to the hospital. I’ll go see her as soon as I take you to–”

“No! You’re going to see her now!” cried Y/N.

He squinted his eyes at her as if he thought she was testing him. “Are you...are you sure, Miss? Mr Styles told me–”

“I’ll talk to Harry for you. Don’t worry.”

Telling someone not to worry never seemed to work. The man screwed up his face as he shoved a hand in his hair. “Should I send you another car, Miss? Mr Styles said...he said that you couldn’t drive.”

“Of course I can!” Y/N blurted, then realized how defensive she’d sounded.

She could drive. However, she was afraid to sit behind the wheel.

Ever since her accident, she’d been using public transport and let Harry drive her around instead of doing it herself. He knew it wasn’t just her anxiety of getting into another accident. Her mother had died in a car crash, and Harry had seen how scared she’d been when he’d crashed his motorcycle. Those final thirty seconds after the collision and before she’d gone unconscious, Y/N had felt it all at once. Her mother’s death, her almost losing Harry, her head cracking open and the numbness when she lay on broken glass and her vision faded to black. She could only hope she would get through her fear this time.

“I’ll take one of his cars,” she reassured the man. “Don’t worry about me, sir. Your daughter needs you.”

The man thanked Y/N repeatedly and hurried back to the car parked in the drive. Y/N waited until he was gone, checked the time to make sure she’d make it, then she sucked in a deep breath and headed to the garage.

Harry was a bundle of nerves trying to act composed while the other nominations were being presented. There were cameras everywhere and they could zoom into his face at any moment so he could not look like he might throw up. He was here for his Best Actor nomination; it’d be so embarrassing if he couldn’t act like he was having the best time of his life.

Y/N should have been here a long time ago. Where the fuck was she? She’d texted him that she’d drive here by herself. He didn’t want to be pessimistic, but the last time she’d sat behind the wheel, she’d ended up in the hospital.

It’d been half a year since, but he couldn’t forget that feeling when he got the call. He was praying to God that the next time his phone buzzed, it would be her telling him she’d arrived safely. If something unpleasant was going to happen (as it always did), he would accept anything as long as she was safe.

The moment his phone sounded, he jolted so hard he might have startled the lady sitting beside him. Jeff’s words swivelled in his head: Do not check your phone during someone’s acceptance speech.Well, screw that. His girl wasn’t here and the last thing he would worry about was looking like an asshole on live television.

➣ I’m here.

When he saw those words, the lump in his throat dissolved and his body relaxed into the cushion. His fake smile had been replaced with a genuine one, so at least people who saw him texting during Brad Pitt’s speech would just assume he was texting his girlfriend, who was supposed to fill the vacancy next to him.

Good. I saved you a seat, he typed and sent.

➣ I’m staying backstage. I can’t go out there.

Harry’s smile dropped as he squirmed in his chair. Why? Are you okay?

She took a bit longer to reply.

➣ Yes, don’t worry. There’s a screen here. I can watch you.

Harry muttered a curse as he put his phone back into his pocket. After a moment of leg bouncing and lip biting, he decided to go check on her.

Y/N splashed water on her face, which was now clean of makeup and checked her pathetic reflection in the mirror one last time before she left the bathroom. She’d been sweating so hard on the way here that by the time she’d arrived, Harry’s beauty team’s two-hour of hard work had been ruined. She’d even ripped her dress by accident when she’d nearly fallen headfirst in the car park, so going out there to sit beside Harry would do so much damage to his reputation.

Besides, she was fatigued after the long flight and hadn’t rested since she got off the plane. She’d thrown up as soon as she’d texted him and found the bathroom. So it was for the best if she didn’t make an appearance tonight. It was less intimidating here backstage. She could just watch him on the screen and–

Where the fuck was he?

Her eyes frantically searched on the screen for her boyfriend.

Where had he gone?

No, he couldn’t–

“Bambi!”

She smacked him with her clutch as he rushed in for a hug. The backstage security and a few others couldn’t help the amusement as they watched them. Y/N flashed the strangers a smile before turning back to her boyfriend, who looked so stupidly happy it should be illegal. “Jeff would kill you! Go back out there!”

“But you’re here,” he said.

“I’m not nominated, you idiot!”

“I’m the idiot? You drove here!”

“I have a fucking license!”

“Then you’re an idiot with a fucking license!”

He didn’t wait for her to rebut and locked her in his arms, squeezing the air out of her like he hadn’t seen her in years. She held him back, for a second forgetting that she was sweating like a pig, her hair had fallen loose and her face weary from jetlag. She didn’t feel any less desirable, though. She knew he loved her anyway.

“Go out there with me,” he said, cupping her cheeks and kissing her nose.

“Are you crazy? Look at me!”

He pulled back to consider her appearance, his eyebrow arched. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

She glared at him as he grinned. “The world doesn’t wear rose-coloured glasses like you do.”

His face grew serious. “You’re right. Maybe I see a princess and they see a frog.”

Too familiar with his teasing, she snorted, “Your ability to go from Prince Charming to an arsehole never fails to amaze me.”

“My pleasure.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers just in time his phone chimed in his pocket. “Shit, that must be Jeff. I must go before he finds me here.” He let out a long heavy breath and then stroked her hair like she was a child. “Can you stay here by yourself, baby?”

“Keep talking like that and people might think you’re my dad,” she said.

“Daddy.” He smirked.

She hit him again, shaking with laughter. “Go!”

“Okay, love you, idiot.”

“Love you, too, idiot.”

He kissed her on the cheek and then he was gone.

Harry didn’t win.

Even though he’d said he wasn’t disappointed, and he didn’t seem disappointed at all, Y/N still suspected that he might be faking it. It wasn’t such a big loss since he’d been up against some big contenders. He was young, so there was a bigger chance for him to get an Oscar in the future. However, she knew the feeling of not expecting anything but still feeling awful when you didn’t get it. She’d known his chance was flimsy, and yet she had hoped he’d win somehow. She might have to wait until next year to hear his acceptance speech.

Exhausted (Y/N more than Harry), they skipped the after-party to have one at home by themselves. They drank champagne and danced barefoot around the kitchen in their nice clothes. The house which Y/N had compared to a resort soon became familiar with his presence.

Streetlights, stumbling home

To our very own, after party

Won't lie, when we're alone

You're my favourite poem to recite

Harry turned down the volume of the song playing on the speaker. As Y/N poured some more champagne, he climbed onto a chair, standing on one foot, the other foot resting on the kitchen island.

She watched him with lazy eyes and took another sip. “If you fall, I’ll let you fall.”

He chuckled. “I’m overwhelmed by your love, Bambi.” Then he shook his head and pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. It took her two seconds to figure out that it was his acceptance speech. She slid into a chair and gazed up at him with her chin on her knuckles.

He cleared his throat extravagantly and began by thanking the Academy, the cast and crew and the director of his movie, then his family and his team. It must be the wine that made every word he said in that posh accent extremely funny. She laughed so hard she almost fell off the chair.

Then, he took the longest pause to consider her, and the room sank to silence as he worked his jaw before he proceeded. “There’s this girl I love. She used to be my little secret but now she’s here watching me accept my first Academy Award. She’s the reason I’m here today, so I owe this one to her.”

Then he raised his glass as if it was the award and hopped off the chair. Before she could applaud, he’d pulled her to her feet and pressed his mouth against hers, kissing her as if she was the only thing he wanted. She kissed him back just as hard, hands in his hair, on his neck, his chest, his back, his face. Her whole body was on fire. It must be the wine. She needed to get out of this dress and get him out of his suit.

Went to bed without you (While you were sleeping)

Felt colder it used to (I crossed an ocean)

And I can't wait (And I can't wait)

'Till I get back to you

“It sounded better when I first wrote it. I’m kind of glad I didn’t win,” he said against her lips as he picked her up and sat her on the edge of the kitchen island.

She tipped her head back and laughed. “At least you weren’t going to propose to me on the stage.”

Suddenly, he stopped. She blinked as he pulled away, his mouth red and glossy from kissing her. She hadn’t even got a chance to feel bad for making that joke and he’d already stepped back. The next thing she knew, he was on one knee on the floor.

She slapped a hand over her open mouth. Her mind went blank, and the music in the background faded to white noise. The thundering beats in her chest made it hard for her to breathe. He wasn’t going to, was he? But if he was, was she going to say yes?

“My beautiful mermaid, frog, little deer,” he began with a straight face, and she choked out an unexpected laugh muffled by her hand. “I love you,” he said. “And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Then he sucked in a breath. The suspense was killing her. “But...I don’t want to marry you–”

“Excuse me?!”

“–right now.”

She could tell he was trying his best not to guffaw at her reaction. She was confused and amused at the same time. What was going on? Was he really that drunk? He didn’t seem that drunk. She would kick his arse if he thought this was funny!

“I just want to let you know,” he went on despite the look on her face, “that I will ask you to marry me. I know you hate surprises and if I asked you unexpectedly, the chances of you saying no would be much higher. So let’s consider this as a proposal for a bigger proposal.” He wetted his lips, his eyes fixed on hers. “Y/N, my darling, will you allow me to ask you to marry me someday?”

She laughed out loud though her eyes were already filled with tears. She didn’t know why she was crying but she couldn’t stop. She blamed the wine and him and his stupid speech and whatever the fuck he thought he was doing right now. “I hate you.” She laughed through her tears. “I hate you so much.”

He got up, his eyes wide. “You hate me after I told you I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you?”

“Yes.”

He closed the distance between them, standing between her legs with his hands on her hips. “Yes, I can ask you to marry me in the future, or yes, you hate me for what I said?”

“Both.” She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth against his. “I love you. I hate you. I love you,” she said in between kisses. “I love you so much I hate you.”

“Tonight is the best night of my life,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “I didn’t want to win. I just wanted you to be there with me.”

“I’ll be there with you next time.” She rested her forehead against his. “And next time, and next time, and forever...”

You don't fall in love once but a million times

Waking up each morning with you by my side

When I drift away, I'll come back with the tide

I'm falling in and out again

Falling in and out again

#my girl series

165 notes · View notes

cuckquean-slave · 3 years

Text

A Different Kind of Threesome

Master and I had driven to the airport to pick up his other submissive, she was a 33 year old woman with a coltish frame, long legs and round full breasts who exuded an innocence that belied her age; she was beautiful.

As soon as she walked through the arrivals gate, grinning and brushing her new conker brown bob from her eyes, things changed. It was as if I was invisible,Master greeted her warmly kissing her on both cheeks and whisking her away towards his car. I was left trailing behind them unsure as to what was happening.

Once at his car he opened the door for her, always one to be chivalrous and with hardly a backward glance threw me the keys and said, “ You're driving”.

Whilst at any other moment the idea of driving Masters car, a sleek black Mercedes would have been a reward, in this second it felt like a punishment.

I got in, adjusted the seat and mirrors breathing in the scent of expensive car, studiously ignoring the whispering and giggling coming from the back seat ; a new role for the slave I thought to myself, chauffeur.

I kept my eyes on the road, the giggling had subsided and instead l heard the sound of fingers entering flesh and the smell of sex filled the car, yet still in the interests of sanity I would not look in the rear view mirror; Lot’s wife had it easy being turned into a pillar of salt when she looked back at Sodom.She couldn't feel anything.

My fingers clutched at the steering wheel as sub gave another groan and I couldn't resist the urge to look any longer, my eyes strayed to the mirror,

My pussy gushed as I took in the view, followed by a tsunami of different emotions,swirling together,jealousy,pain,rage,longing ; an exquisite torture mixed with breathtaking arousal.

Sub was leaning back against Master’s chest,her long legs spread wide, her pert milky breasts exposed,Masters fingers grabbing one of them digging his fingers into her flesh. His other hand between her legs . Her eyes were closed in a mixture of ecstasy and pain.

Master saw me looking at them, gave me an appraising look and then winked at me before he returned to kissing and biting subs neck and whispering goodness knows what to her as he did so.

I tore my eyes away , water pooling at the corner of my eyes. “ Just get home” I told myself.

I got home somehow my ears assaulted the whole way with subs groans and the squelch of fingers inside pussy, my nose taking in the familiar scent of my Master,my desperate empty pussy pulsating;to my shame leaking juices all over the drivers seat.

Once home I was told to kneel on the floor; the place for Master’s slave. Sub was to remain standing. He walked around her admiring her before saying,

“ Mmmmm you look absolutely ravishing “

He didn't even acknowledge my presence, another stab to my slave’s heart and this was only the start.

He graciously proffered his hand to sub, helping her to her feet and then covering her eyes with an eye mask; she was now effectively blind but her remaining senses heightened.

“ You look so beautiful my sub, Masters voice caressed her , smoothly seductive.

In contrast his first words to me “Undress us, slave”,were cold with a tone that broached no argument, not that I would ever refuse him.

I replied the only way I could ever do, “ Yes Master”.

My stomach dropped to my feet, the rollercoaster of emotions had started. The humiliation of being made to undress sub.

I lifted subs arms and pulled her top over her head, kneeling to remove her shoes and socks,as I was undoing her jeans,Master had freed her young, pert but heavy breasts and was stroking them; my pussy gushed and threatened to overflow as I saw what he was doing, the yearning for him to touch me was almost overwhelming, I was so jealous of sub I wanted to scream, how was I going to get through this?

A baptism by fire ,lust and humiliation.

“I've been thinking about you and what I'm going to do to you. Have you missed me sub?” he asked.

She replied “ Yes Master” in her soft Scottish lilt.

Master took her face in his hands and leant forward and started to kiss her gently just as I was helping her step out of her jeans ,revealing black and pink crutch less panties and a hairy pussy.

I felt the dagger of jealousy pierce my heart,excruciating but exquisite pain. I became aroused watching Master fuck other subs,his controlled dominance, their submission left me wet,but this intimate act; I wanted to stop this now but was halted by the feel of tributaries of my juices overflowing down my thighs and the hot dripping center between my legs.

I could and would do this for him,I was his slave and his pleasure even if it were gained through my humiliation was paramount.

I took off Masters socks and shoes, kissing each of his feet in reverence before standing up and with shaking fingers undoing his crisp white shirt ,in such proximity taking in his clean, manly scent, removing his cufflinks, all the while Master continuing to kiss sub, running his hand over her ass, massaging her cheeks making her squirm. I let out a moan, whether it was pain or desire even I didn't know,the two were so intertwined.

I was Master’s slave, I had promised him and myself that I would prove my devotion and obedience today; whatever new levels of humiliation and degradation he subjected me to. I would revel in the fact that he took pleasure in the pain that he inflicted.

Once undressed, Master told me to ready sub, grabbing me by the hair and pushing it into subs hairy pussy.

“Eat subs cunt, whore”

I did as he asked running my tongue between her lips hesitantly, sucking on her clit, my hand stroked Masters balls as he continued kissing sub , plundering her mouth with his tongue.

Master held my head firmly against subs pussy, I was struggling to breathe and he moved my head so my face rubbed all over her leaking wet slit covering my faces in her juices.

“Thank sub for allowing you to ready her infinitely, superior tighter pussy, slave”, Master demanded.

I tried my best to obey but my mouth was still buried in her pussy so my answer came out as unintelligible.

“ Do you know what we’re going to do now, sub?”, Master asked.

“No Master” she replied.

“ We’re going upstairs to fuck on slave’s bed so that tonight she’ll have to sleep with the smell of our sex and lay on cum stained sheets”, Master sounded pleased with himself.

This was already a far higher level of humiliation than I had ever been exposed to and my eyes filled with tears but my pussy was throbbing and I was aware of the slick wetness covering my thighs; knowing that the scent of my arousal would be obvious to Master.

He took sub by the hand and lead her up the stairs , leading me on the leash crawling after them.

Once in my bedroom Master positioned me sitting on the floor my head against the bed. He attached a dildo gag to my face and then positioned sub on her hands and knees her pussy directly over my face and the dildo.

He caressed her with his voice, telling her how hard he was thinking about her pleasing him, his fingers grazing her pussy lips teasing her. I moved my fingers towards my cunt but Masters, form “No” stopped me.

“Slave you will not touch yourself, you will not cum. You are merely a tool to pleasure myself and this perfect little sub. You will ache with emptiness as I fill her with my cock”

“ She is a better fuck than you could ever be, I only want her. Look how hard my cock is at the thought of using her holes”

I looked at his beautiful cock and it was harder than I had ever before seen it.

I moaned with need and desire and Master laughed sadistically at my plight.

He held the gag straight and guided sub down onto it, telling her what a good girl she was for him.

My hand stroked Masters balls even as my breath was cut off each time sub lowered herself on to my dildo covered nose and mouth.

Another “ mmmmm” left Masters lips, so deep and primal.

“ That’s right sub, cream all over the dildo for me, such a good girl”

And then to me,

“Are you getting used to your place slave? Subs pussy is so tight, it’s delicious watching her. Of course you’ve probably guessed you’ll be licking the dildo clean later” Master said .

I couldn’t breathe, I was on the edge of tears and yet I was escalating to the edge of orgasm, the throbbing between my legs threatening to undo me.

I had the perfect view of subs cunt and Masters cock as he held subs hips, holding her half on the dildo and then pushed his cock into her ass..

I could smell their combined scent as Master thrust into her ass, see the dildo become slick with subs juices. I could see as Masters balls constricted , knowing he was close to cumming.

Ex and told her to lift herself off the dildo. He stood over me pumping his cock before erupting , directing long streams of cum onto the dildo and my face.

“ There, you look prettier now “ Master said before spitting in my face.

He untied the gag, told me to open up and then said, “Don’t say I’m not generous, clean it and you can taste my cum.”

I licked from the base to the tip, cum still covering my face, relishing the taste of Master’s cum mixed with subs juices. When it was clean he made me kneel with my ass in the air and my head to one side, my cheek resting on the floor.

I heard the distinctive sound of gloves being stretched over hands.

“ I am not entirely heartless slave, I know your needy holes are aching to be filled and your ass has been unused for some time, so I’m going to train it so all MY holes are accessible to me”, Master’s voice caressed as his tone changed.

After spitting on my ass Master pushed a medium plug into my hole, consistent pressure, holding firm as I moaned initially with pain but when the plug slipped inside, my body shook and I had to pant to stop myself from cumming.

Master gently pushed the plug gently in and out of my arsehole and was stroking my pussy with his other hand intentionally holding me at the edge of orgasm. I felt as if any coherent thought was being stroked away.

I knew my begging wouldn’t make any difference but I was past that level of logical thought.

“ Please fuck me Master, please fuck me Master” , I begged and repeated it like a mantra.

He finally took pity on me and plunged his cock into my arse over and over again. The burning pain gave way almost immediately to pleasure and I was now fighting against cumming.

My begging had changed to , “ May I cum my Mastet, please Master?”

He pumped harder and mercilessly before pulling out and pumping his precious cum into my gaping hole.

I moaned and shivered with unslated lust, burning with desire. He pushed his cock into my mouth , saying “ Clean my cock slave”.

I willingly cleaned his cock still covered in my arse juices, I was past caring, I would do anything he wanted to please him.

He moved to sub and took her in his arms on the bed , stroking her hair and kissing her gently.

To me , an instruction. “ Suck her clit and make her cum”.

He took me by the hair and pushed my face into her wet cunt. I sucked and licked until sub came in my mouth her juices flowing .

I was crying now, tears rolling down my cheeks overwhelmed by conflicting emotions.

Master pulled me away and said , “ I’m thirsty go and make sub and I a drink”.

I was aching with need , covered with subs juices and Masters cum.Of everything he had demanded from me this was the hardest, I considered walking away but where would I go it was my house.

He was looking at me appraisingly, we both knew if I did this that would be it, I hesitated and his face remained passive but he knew my internal struggle. Crazy that this simple order should raise such conflict in mr.

“ Yes Master” I replied and went to get them drinks . My fate was sealed.

He smiled and replied “ Good girl”.

2 notes · View notes

hedwigstalons · 4 years

Text

High Expectations - Ch9

This was meant to be just a quick bit of practice at freehand drawing so I could work on doing neat straight lines and circles. Then I found my old glass paints that have been in a box for...8 years (?) and suddenly I now have a WASP suncatcher. I’m a bit wobbly with the relief edging, probably not helped in that the tubes had gone a bit firm and funky, but I’m predicting more sun catchers and maybe a few candle holders will appear soon.

Many thanks are due to @willow-salix who has provided much hand holding and head pats.

Earlier parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight

AO3 chapter link

Chapter Nine

Gordon fell into line amongst the other hopefuls. For the next few days he wasn’t Gordon Tracy, Olympian and heir to one of the largest fortunes in America, he was Number 14 and the anonymity suited him just fine. The elastic armband around his bicep was the sole identifier to distinguish him from the other candidates as the assessors marked down their observations. Only the course leader had the information that linked names to numbers; each stage of selection was kept separate to avoid bias.

“Atten...shun!”

The command was barked out by the officer placed in charge of his group and Gordon found himself jumping to the alert and snapping his feet together automatically. Evidently something had remained buried deep in his memory from all the times watching Scott being taught drill by their father or practicing out in the yard in Kansas all those years ago. The rest of the group also snapped to attention with varying degrees of success.

“Group C, your first test is pool fitness. You have two minutes to fetch your swimming kit and fall back into line. Go!”

There was a mad scramble towards the door of their temporary accommodation as Gordon and the other potential recruits allocated to group C raced to retrieve their kit from their bunks. They had barely been on base for an hour but had already learnt that failure to meet a time limit or just being last to complete a task would result in being given punishment press ups. By the time they had reassembled groups A and B were nowhere to be seen, evidently separated off to undertake one of the other selection tests.

As they marched across the base to the pool Gordon couldn’t help but feel slightly pleased that his group was getting to swim first. This was his natural environment and he justifiably had every confidence in his own abilities. It would also give him a good chance to stretch out his muscles after sitting around in the airport and then being cramped in an airline seat; domestic flights were always taken in coach class for a Tracy son travelling solo.

Once within the pool building more orders were barked giving a time limit to get changed. Gordon quickly found a space on the bench and started stripping. Some of the other recruits seemed a little uncomfortable about changing in the communal space but Gordon figured that privacy would often be hard to come by within the submarine service and now was not the time to be worried about modesty. After years of completing the action several times a week he could be in his kit almost as quickly as he could swim 200m and he was one of the first ready.

He snapped on his sunshine yellow swimming cap drawing a few strange looks but Gordon shrugged them off; so what if only a couple of candidates in his group were wearing them? To Gordon the cap was just a standard part of his kit, however he was glad he had decided to leave his Team USA branded items at home and opt for his plain training set; there was no need to draw more attention to himself than was strictly necessary.

Out on the poolside the elastic armbands were replaced by numbered stickers slapped on shoulder and thigh. From the way the sticker pulled tightly at the skin Gordon just knew that ripping it off later would be a painful experience. Once numbers had been applied everyone lined up expectantly, awaiting further orders.

“Right, I want two circuits of the pool as warm up. No cutting the corners. No touching the wall. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir!” the chorus of voices responded in unison.

“Into the water, in number order. Go!”

One by one the men allocated to group C were counted into the water to complete their circuits around the perimeter of the pool. The pace was frustratingly slow for the Olympian whose number placed him towards the rear of the pack and it took a lot of self control not to stretch out and overtake those ahead of him.

The slow pace allowed Gordon plenty of opportunity to look around the facility. WASP evidently invested in its sporting areas for the pool itself was up to Olympic standards even if the viewing and changing areas were a little more basic than Gordon had encountered at some of his competitions. If he was given the opportunity to continue his swimming training, and it wasn’t unheard of to encounter military participants released for competitions, he would have no complaints about the standard of the Marineville pool. Unfortunately his appraisal of the facilities nearly earned him a kick in the face, he hadn’t realised how close he had got to the swimmer in front and had to drop his pace yet again to maintain some distance. For him the actual tests and the chance to stretch out his limbs couldn’t come soon enough.

With warm-up over the first eight swimmers were allocated their lanes. Gordon watched the action even more closely than the assessors, critiquing the style of others was all part of his ingrained training and he winced at some of the sloppy dives and mangled turns. Still, the tests were about meeting a minimum standard rather than being competition ready.

Soon enough it was time for swimmers 9 through to 16 to claim a lane. It didn’t escape Gordon’s notice that his number placed him in lane six and the coincidence struck him as lucky. If you had asked him just a few months ago what his favourite lane was he would have promptly answered four but after his Olympic success he has developed a soft spot for his current position, after all it had been good enough to earn him gold and a world record. He adjusted his goggles and wiggled his toes on the edge of the pool, he would have preferred to use a starting block but he could adapt.

The sound of the whistle had him launching into the water in a clean dive. There had been no stipulations on the stroke to be used and Gordon automatically found himself using his preferred butterfly, unaware of the raised eyebrows this was causing among the onlookers; his rejection of freestyle making him stick out almost as much as the yellow hat. That and the fact that he left the other candidates in his wake. He shot through the water, powerful muscles propelling him towards the finish at a rate that far exceeded expectations.

Less than 2 minutes later and Gordon had completed his fourth lap and finished the test. He had taken it easy, or at least he thought he had until he turned and realised the next nearest swimmer was almost a full lap behind him. He returned bemused stares with a shrug and a smile before placing his hands on the poolside and launching himself out to sit on the edge and wait for the others to finish.

The remainder of the pool tests passed in much the same fashion with Gordon easily outstripping his cohort. He could swim faster, dive further and hold his breath for longer than any of the others. His techniques were sharp and in the water he moved with a strength and grace that were enviable. Even skills like casualty towing, which wasn’t part of his usual repertoire, came naturally to him and he aced the tests with ease. The assessors scribbled some hurried notes on their pads; when it came to the water based activities at least candidate 14 was marking himself out as someone to watch.

xoxoxox

The first day drew to a close and Gordon was thankful when his group were released to the freedom of their dormitory. The pool session had been swiftly followed by a run then a drill lesson in one of the large parade squares dotted around the base. His muscles were weary and clearly grumbling at the lack of deep stretching after his swim but he was in a better shape than many in the room. WASP only accepted the very best to join its ranks and the selection tests were designed to weed out those not up to standard. Already three beds in his room were empty after their allocated occupants had withdrawn, either having had a change of heart or to avoid the shame of being rejected at the end of the course having already failed too many of the test elements.

Tempting as it was to just flop down onto his bunk Gordon knew from painful experience that he would regret it the following day. He settled himself on an empty patch of floor and started running through some yoga poses to try and work out the tension in his back and legs. Just because the instructors hadn’t given them much opportunity to stretch didn’t give him the excuse to neglect his body. It also gave him something productive to do while waiting for his turn in the showers.

His activities drew some curious looks and half-sniggered comments from the others in the room but he zoned out and ignored them, instead focussing on his form until the showers came free. He didn’t have long to wait, two showers came free at the same time and both he and Number 13 grabbed their towels and headed through to the wash rooms.

He stripped down to his shorts and picked experimentally at the stickers left in place after the pool session, the glue was strong and part of him was tempted to leave them except the edges were just beginning to lift and annoy him. He gritted his teeth, pinched the loosest corner and ripped back sharply. He swiftly repeated the action on the second sticker then rubbed briskly at the angry red patches left on his skin.

“That looked painful. Not too sure I want to do that to myself”

He looked up, met the eyes of Number 13 and grinned.

“It’s just like pulling off a band-aid. Nothing to it.”

“Rather you than me. I think I'll try and get mine in the shower.”

They went their separate ways into the empty cubicles and Gordon turned the shower up high. The accommodation might be spartan but he was glad the water was hot and plentiful. The powerful drops blasted away the sweat and chlorine that had built up on his skin and he turned his face into the stinging stream. Much as he would have liked to stand there for longer he knew others were waiting their turn and it wouldn't be fair to hang around. The temptation was strong but he hadn’t been impressed by the amount of time some candidates had taken and it wasn’t fair to keep the last few waiting longer than they had to.

All too soon he was back in the chilly dorm room, hauling himself onto the bunk that had been marked out as his. Eight sets of bunk beds lined the room, with thirteen of the individual beds now filled. He wondered how many more gaps would appear as the selection course progressed. Murmurs of conversation broke out around the room as the participants made use of the first real chance they had to get to know each other since arriving. The instructors had kept them busy all afternoon and unnecessary chatter during the tasks had been swiftly quelled by punishment press ups, but now, with no instructors around, the candidates could speak more freely.

Gordon lay back and listened. It was the usual first-night whispers he remembered from some of his swim camps; name, city but unsurprisingly not their favourite distance and stroke. The introductions travelled around the room; it seemed Marineville saw applicants from the west coast right through to the central states. Gordon knew it would soon be his turn and he resolved to say as little as possible, he was enjoying being just another person in the crowd.

“So what about you 14?”

“Gordon, I'm from LA.”

If he thought he was going to be able to get away with the bare minimum he was sorely mistaken.

“So what were you doing before you decided to try out for WASP? You're built like a tank and you swim like a fish. You some personal trainer or something?”

“Me? Uh, I've just high finished school. I do swim competitively though.”

Thankfully the candidate doing the questioning latched on more to the school part than the swimming.

“Only just left school? You don't act like some kid, I thought you were at least 20, maybe 22.”

“Nope, only 17.”

“Jeez, that makes you the baby of the group. So what do your family think of you heading off to sea first chance you get?”

Thankfully Gordon was spared answering by a bellow from the doorway.

“This is a military base, not a holiday camp. If you lot have enough energy to gossip you obviously aren't working hard enough. Now if I hear another sound from this room I will have you outside running laps until you drop. Do you understand me?”

A chorus of “Yes, Sir!” rang out before the room descended into total silence.

Gordon rolled over, wondering what challenges tomorrow would bring.

xoxoxox

The second day of selection started with the sound of drums at daybreak. Sleepy heads were raised in confusion. Others who were quicker on the uptake, Gordon included, leapt from their beds and started throwing on clothes. He was glad he hadn’t skimped on the stretches the night before, some of his contemporaries were looking decidedly stiff after the exertions of the previous day.

The now familiar sound of shouting filled the room.

“Up! Up! Sports kit on and outside for PT before breakfast. Move!”

Gordon was no stranger to early morning training. As the first beats had sounded from the speakers in the corners of the room he had been on his feet, all shreds of sleep disappearing in an instant. It was an enviable skill and obviously not one possessed by all in the room. To the observing instructor in the doorway Number 14 shone through yet again as one of the stronger candidates.

There was no denying that WASP selection was a taxing experience. The group was whisked from one set of tests to another. If it wasn’t their bodies being tested it was their minds as they sat exam papers or explored leadership scenarios. By lunch time another member of his group had dropped out, and judging by the numbers sitting down to eat groups A and B were now similarly depleted. Even those that lasted the distance had no guarantee they would be accepted to wear the prestigious grey uniform; the standards might have an absolute minimum but it had been made clear that if more met the standard than was needed then only the very best would be made an offer.

While many were struggling Gordon was relishing the challenge. It was as though he had found his niche. Even the written tests, which he had approached with some trepidation, had been well within his comfort zone which helped his confidence soar. Theories and concepts which had seemed so abstract at school seemed to make more sense when applied to a real life scenario and for once in his life Gordon walked away from a classroom without feeling a failure.

After lunch group C were to take their turn on the obstacle course, a gruelling array of beams, walls and aerial wires that would require both strength and agility to navigate. To Gordon the course looked like a massive playground and he couldn’t help but grin at the prospect.

The instructors divided the group into smaller teams of four and Gordon’s team set off onto the course first at the sound of the whistle.

The group raced along, leaping over pits using rope swings and stepping along narrow beams as quickly as their balance allowed, each candidate aiming to be the first to reach and therefore clear each piece of equipment. It was every man for himself. That was until they were brought up short by a 10 foot wall. Number 6, who was keen to keep his early lead, took a running jump at the obstacle. His fingers caught the top edge but he was unable to keep a good enough grip to climb over and he soon fell back down again.

To Gordon the solution was obvious; it was quickly becoming apparent to him that this test was different to those that had gone before and if they were to have any hope of making it through successfully then teamwork would have to be the order of the day.

“Look, if any of us are to stand a chance of getting through this course we are going to have to work together.”

Number 6, after a second failed leap, was quick to agree. Numbers 3 and 10, arriving a moment later, could also see sense in the plan.

“Sure. So how are we going to tackle this one.”

Three sets of eyes turned to Gordon expectantly. Having been the one to voice the idea the others were evidently expecting him to come up with the solution. He thought for a moment then turned and planted his back against the wall, bending his knees to make a step.

“6, you’re tallest, you go first. Use me as a ladder to get up but stay on top of the wall, don’t drop down the other side. You can then help up 3 and 10. Once you’re all on top you can reach back down and haul me over. Got it?”

There were three nods of agreement.

Gordon braced himself as first his legs then his shoulders were used as steps. Once. Twice. A third time. His clothes became marked with muddy footprints but he didn’t care, the plan was working and he was soon being bodily lifted up and over the obstacle by the team he had helped up first.

Having made the decision to work together the group soon found themselves speeding through the course. Many obstacles, while able to be attempted solo, could be cleared much quicker with careful cooperation and support; Gordon had evidently read the situation correctly.

Despite being the youngest the others seemed happy to defer to him as their leader and Gordon found himself naturally assuming command of the team. He directed the group to make the best use of their combined talents. Before long the band of four found themselves at the far end of the course, just one final obstacle to navigate their way over then the run for home.

Using their now tried and tested method the team were soon atop the final wall despite it being the biggest yet. From here they could look back over the whole course, the other candidates and their assessors were indistinct figures in the distance.

“Wonder who that is come to visit? Probably from the World Navy. Best make sure we put on a good show, they might be important.”

From his lofty vantage point Gordon looked back towards the start point. Number 6 was right, someone new had joined the cluster of watching assessors, the dark blue of their uniform a stark contrast to WASP grey.

“No idea. Come on, let's finish this as a team.”

The group jumped down from the final obstacle and began the mad sprint back to the beginning of the course and their waiting assessors. As they closed the gap between themselves and the waiting officers, making sure no one was left behind, the mystery figure resolved itself into a familiar form for Gordon

Recognition led first to confusion and then to anger.

Scott.

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #my art #high expectations #Gordon Tracy #WASP #sun catchers #military selection

30 notes · View notes

xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 4 years

Text

Homecomming - Brendon Urie x Reader

Request: I just had this idea I had to share if you are taking requests (got inspired by a video)Imagine the reader tries to pranks Brendon urie their boyfriend/husband with a fake prom. They set up everything getting dressed from thrift stores a tux for brendon and the whole house is covered in confetti and just a bunch of stuff to surprise him when he comes home. But when he does Zack is with him and zack is like wtf and Brendon is just so happy and the reader makes zack record them and Brendon’s dance

Reader: female (implied?)

Warnings: alcohol

Word count: 1 504

A/N: I fucking love Quickstep, okay?

Brendon was feeling bad. He knew he shouldn’t. But he was anyway. The one evening you had been looking forward to for almost a year now, and he was not there. Yesterday had been the annual prom of the dancing school you worked at, and you had been beyond excited to go there with him. And he even had managed to get the label only to book concerts so he could be home in time for him to accompany you, but then his flight had gotten canceled, and the next had gotten delayed, and eventually he was a day late.

He knew you had gone alone, since you were a dancing teacher you had to turn up, partner at your side or not. You had sent a couple of pictures, of the ankle long, beautifully elegant dress you had worn, of the difficult up-do you had managed all by yourself, and eventually a video of the dancefloor with dozens of couples dancing a romantic rumba.

Of course Brendon would never be as good at dancing as you were, after all it was your job (and the one time he had seen you teach a class had made it obvious to him that this job was the thing you were destined to do in life). But still he would have loved to see you in that dress, have been able to place his hand sneakily at your bare back, where the dress was showing off your skin so beautifully, would have wanted to help you out of the car, and watch you all evening long, the smooth fabric gently moving around your body, while you gracefully made your way through crowds as if they were nothing but shadows. And maybe he could have even stolen a dance or two from you, trying not to feel too silly knowing that, from the men you were encountering on a daily basis, he was the worst dancer.

But because his flight had been canceled he was now mopping around on the backseat of a cab, Zack sitting next to him with an almost amused smile.

“You’re like a toddler, you know that,” the body guard asked, secretly glad he was able to get rid of the pissed of musician soon. The tantrum Brendon had thrown at the airport in private between the two of them yesterday had been beyond annoying, and while Zack knew how important it was to Brendon to prove to you that he was a good husband, he could not help but eventually be annoyed by it.

“I know,” Brendon sighed.

“I texted her, she knows we’re coming in a couple of minutes,” Zack informed, looking out of the window. The streets from the airport to Brendon’s home were familiar by now.

When the cab eventually pulled up in front of the house, Brendon could not get out of the car quickly enough. It was already late in the evening, so seeing the blinds drawn at the windows of the house worried him. Were you asleep already? He had been looking forward to talking to you before going to sleep.

“Want me to help you with your luggage,” Zack offered, and Brendon quickly nodded, taking one of the suitcases by the handle, and walked up to the house.

As quietly as possible, he unlocked the front door, and realised in relief that the lights in the living room were still on while soft music was playing.

“Baby, I’m home,” he called into the corridor, kicking off his shoes carelessly into a corner, and walking into the living room.

He had walked into his living room many times before, but never had it looked like this.

Along the shelves and the mantelpiece, on the table and the window stills burning candles were lined up, filling the room with warm orange light. He wanted to make a joke about the pentagram on the floor missing, but in that moment you stepped into the room as well, and that took his breath away.

You were wearing the dress you had sent him photos off, but the pictures did no justice to your beauty. It did not happen very often for Brendon to be left speechless, but in that moment he was. He could not remember having seen you this beautiful and elegant since your wedding. Now your hair was done up again, pearls reflecting golden light from your hair, a soft glimmer coming from the delicately applied lipstick you were wearing. The dress gently swung around your legs as you walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and gazing at him for a while. His hands immediately found their way to your waist, like an instinct.

“Glad you’re home,” you whispered and were leaning in to kiss him, when Zack burst into the house.

“What the hell is that,” he wondered, looking around with furrowed brows.

Brendon could not help but feel annoyed. Couldn’t he see the moment was intimate?

“Well,” you pulled away from Brendon, walking over to the couch table where you had placed two glasses and a bottle of wine, “I thought since Brendon couldn’t make it to the prom yesterday, we could do our own little prom here tonight.”

Pouring wine into the two glasses, you walked back over, and handed one to Brendon, offering the other one to Zack, who denied.

“You’re weird,” Zach shrugged.

“It’s amazing,” Brendon grinned, finally escaping his surprise, and placing the glass aside in order to pull you into a hug, “I love it so much!”

You giggled a little, very likely the sweetest sound Brendon would ever know.

“I’m glad you like it. Self-made pizza is in the oven for later, and there is your favourite pudding in the fridge as desert,” you informed.

“You’ve gone all out, haven’t you,” Brendon laughed, gently kissing your hair.

“I have,” you agreed, “We even have a perfect playlist full of our favourite songs to dance to, and your tuxedo is upstairs on the bed.”

“I’ll be back in a sec,” Brendon decided, and quickly ran out of the room, up the stairs.

“You know how to make him happy,” Zack rolled his eyes, “He’s been in the worst mood since he found out he’d miss the prom.”

“It’s a tradition to go,” you shrugged, “I know it’s important to him.” You took a small sip from the glass of wine Zack had denied. “What?”

Confused you gestured towards Zack who was watching you with a raised eyebrow.

“The two of you are the worst couple I know. You know each other so fucking well, can read each other’s thoughts even, and are so sweet together, I’m getting caries from just looking at you together!”

Taking another sip from the glass you smiled knowingly.

“I’ll take it as a compliment.”

A few moments later Brendon came running down the stairs again, dressed in the black tuxedo, still trying to tie his bowtie correctly.

“I’m ready! Prom can begin,” he announced excitedly.

Laughing you stepped in front of him, and finished tying the bowtie for him.

“Sorry, I don’t got a tux for you, Zack,” you smiled when you turned to the other man.

“Nah, I’d rather get home. Enjoy the time alone you two,” he shrugged, still obviously confused about what was going on with you to organise such a thing.

“Before you leave,” you quickly called for Zack who was already on his way to the door, “could you take a couple of pictures?”

You pointed to the camera on the side table by the living room door, and compliantly Zack snapped a couple of photos before eventually saying good night, and leaving. When the door fell into its lock behind him, Brendon turned to you.

“Got you all to myself now,” he grinned, and pulled you into his arms, gently kissing you.

The fabric of his tuxedo was not yet warm, only cool, rigid fabric underneath your fingertips.

“Should I put on some music,” you eventually asked, not quite able to tear your eyes away from Brendon’s lips.

“Definitely,” he agreed, and reluctantly let go of you, allowing you to head over to the stereo where you plugged in your mobile and chose a song from a playlist. Almost immediately the upbeat rhythm of a Quickstep sounded through the living room, the music getting Brendon eager to dance along immediately. Thank god the living room was big enough.

Quickly he jumped over to you, and placed his hand on your shoulder blade, taking hold of your hand with the other. You placed your free hand on his upper arm, and smiled at him, while he pulled you close into the correct stance which you had taught him years ago. On the right beat he started dancing, guiding you through the living room, his body and yours skilfully moving to the music, and right here, right now, he was rather glad he had missed the prom yesterday, and gotten to dance with you like this instead.

Taglist (if you want to be added or taken off, please let me know):

General: @justawriterinprogress @robinruns @jayloverthe3rd @lookalivefrosty @butterfly-writes @angelevansfalls @rene-royale @500240 @starduststyx

#brendon urie x reader #brendon urie x reader fluff #brendon urie x reader fanfiction #brendon urie fanfiction #brendon urie fluff #brendon urie imagine #Panic! at the Disco #panic at the disco imagine #panic at the disco fanfiction #fluff #cute #fluffy

66 notes · View notes

hazzasgayvodka · 4 years

Text

Corrupt Chapter 1: Pilot with a fear of Heights

JESS

“What are you packed for, three days or three weeks?” Harry groans, lugging my two suitcases behind him as we enter the lobby of the hotel.

“I had to have options,” I retort, “First big work trip, I was nervous.”

He gives me a solemn look and I know immediately that he’s thinking the same thing as I am. Maybe if I was with him when I was packing those giant suitcases I wouldn’t have been so nervous.

“Hey, we’re okay,” I assure him, grabbing the handle of one of my suitcases from him and wrapping his hand in mine instead, “I promise, we’re okay.”

He nods his head, almost as if he’s trying convince himself rather than me, and squeezes my hand in his, a sure way to let me know he agrees without any words. He’s staring at the ground, not daring to meet my eyes, and I can’t imagine the thoughts going through his head right now. I know I can’t let him dwindle on it, everything has already been a mess so far as it is. We missed my flight by a matter of minutes. I doubt he would have been able to steal a seat on it as is. He told me not to worry about it, that he could cover two tickets on the next flight no problem, but I don’t like the idea of using his dirty fighting money for anything.

The next flight was packed, and of course there weren’t any seats available right next to each other. We nicely asked the people next to us to switch, to allow us to sit together, but of course no one was willing to give up their precious aisle seats. So instead we stole glimpses at each other for the duration of the flight, just fleeting glances that almost hurt after a full month without seeing each other at all.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, startling me out of daze, and I pull it out to see a text from Miles thankfully. I sense Harry lingering over my shoulder and I can almost feel him roll his eyes when he realizes it’s Miles texting me.

“They’re on the eighth floor,” I explain, slipping my phone back in my pocket, “Let’s go see where our rooms are.”

He nods, humming in approval, and follows behind me to the elevators, still lugging my two suitcases behind him. As soon as the door closes behind us he looks up at me, his eyes still solemn, and we lock eyes for three floors, the pleasant ding echoing in the small space each time we ascend another story.

“We’re okay?” He says, but it sounds more like a question.

I cross the small space of the elevator to stand right in front of him, grabbing his chin and making him meet my eyes. He’s still that same frail, broken man from the airport. The man made of fragile bones and skin like paper. He’s not himself yet, and that’s okay, we can work on that, because I need my Harry back, and this man is just a shell of him.

“We’re okay,” I say firmly, not daring to look away from his eyes, “We can do this. It’s you and me Harry, it’s always been you and me, it’s always going to be you and me.”

“Always going to be?” He grins, a small flicker of life igniting in him as he gives me that stupid arrogant smirk that I’ve come to love, “Are you proposing?”

I roll my eyes and he laughs, the most gorgeous sound I’ve ever heard. It echoes in the small space and suddenly I’m beaming. I’ve missed that sound, more than I ever thought I could bring myself to miss something, let alone something as insignificant as a sound. My whole body is warm, and I realize I’m laughing too. It’s infectious, and booming. I’m not even sure what we’re laughing at anymore but we’re laughing, and it’s so much better than crying I don’t know if I can ever stop.

He surprises me when he grabs my chin, and then decides against it, dropping my other suitcase as well and cupping my cheeks with both his hands instead. My chest is on fire as he leans down to me, our noses nearly touching, and my heart hammering against my ribcage.

“We’re okay.” He nods, a giant smile overtaking his face as he leans down to me and finally presses his mouth to mine.

Every time is like the first time, at that shitty party playing a dumb game of suck and blow. No matter how stupid it seems to look back on it now, it’s what got us where we are today. I remember the first time his lips touched mine like it happened days ago, not months. Every time he kisses me it’s just the same; it’s like being electrocuted, just steady energy flowing through me, my entire body becomes a live wire and my hair stands on end.

He pulls away too fast, but I realize why when the final ding of the elevator sounds and then the doors are sliding open. Our few perfect moments are over, shattered at our feet as I turn around and come face to face with Miles, already on the war path.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He shouts, looking past me right to Harry.

I can feel Harry tense up behind me, the air is suddenly thick, and the consequences of our impulsive actions are suddenly laid out on the table. I put my hands up without thinking, grabbing Miles by the shoulders and holding him back. He’s forced to redirect his attention to me, his face scrunched in anger before switching to despairing frustration.

“Jess, he, you can’t be serious,” He stutters, “I, there’s no way, just please.”

“Miles, I’m sorry- “

“I can’t believe this, he shouldn’t even be here!” He shouts, shoving my hands off his shoulders and taking several steps away from me.

I open my mouth to speak again, unsure of what will even pour out just as another door opens to Miles’ right and out walks Lex, staring between the three of us incredulously. I can tell he’s about to reprimand us just before his eyes land on Harry and suddenly he softens, his mouth hanging open the slightest bit.

“Harry?” He asks, as if to make sure it’s really him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t uh, call, or anything really,” He says painfully, his free hand that’s not locked in mine instinctively reaching up to rub the back of his neck, “You don’t have to worry about me, I won’t ruin the trip, you won’t even know I’m here.”

“Nonsense,” Lex scoffs, clearly trying to lighten the mood, “We can make room. I originally had Miles, Audrie, and Jess together. I believe there’s three beds in the room, aren’t there Miles?”

I feel Lex’s eyes on me, as if asking if three beds will be enough. He has a hopeful look in his eyes, his gaze drifting between Harry, me, and our intertwined hands. A small weight that settled on my chest dissipates as I meet his eyes and he nods, almost as an affirmation that he approves, almost as if he’s proud of us.

“You have got to be kidding me Lex,” Miles sighs, “Do you not remember kicking him off this trip in the first place, he shouldn’t be here.”

“Miles,” Harry says, his voice somehow even and calculated while I feel like my throat might close at any moment, “I know I messed up okay- “

“No, you don’t Harry, you don’t know,” He seethes, “You crushed her. You left her, alone, with us to pick up the pieces. You don’t know Harry, you have no idea.”

Harry opens his mouth to speak again but before he can say anything else, Miles is gone. He turns his back on both of us and slips behind the door to his hotel room, leaving the three of us standing in silence.

“I wish I had another room with enough space.” Lex sighs.

“It’s okay Uncle Lex,” Harry nods, “I’ll talk to him.”

He finally releases his grip on my hand, instead reaching for the handles of either of my suitcases and wheeling them behind himself as he walks over to the door Miles disappeared behind. He knocks on the door lightly, rocking on his feet, while I grab the one remaining keycard from Lex.

“They’ll figure it out,” Lex assures me, resting his hand on my shoulder, “Miles will come around.”

The door swings open and to my surprise Audrie is standing behind it, her jaw nearly to the floor when her eyes come to rest on Harry. She pushes past the suitcases in his hands and wraps her arms around him in a tight hug that clearly catches him off guard by the grunt that slips out of his mouth.

“You son of a bitch,” Audrie laughs, finally pulling away from him and smacking him in the arm, “You had us worried.”

“Sorry,” He laughs, turning to look at me over his shoulder, “I’ll try not to do that again.”

Audrie just about drags him inside, my suitcases trailing behind him. I follow them, trudging my feet in anticipation of coming face to face with Miles yet again. Before I can hardly take in the interior of the hotel room, Miles is in front of me, grabbing my arm and yanking me back out the door I just came through.

“How are you possibly being this dumb Jess, how?” He huffs, looking at me pleadingly.

“I-I don’t know,” I stutter, anything but prepared to have this conversation so soon, “He just, I can’t Miles, I can’t live- “

“Don’t you dare say you can’t live without him,” He seethes, “You did, you lived without him, with me, he was gone, and I was the one that was here- “

“I love him.” I say, before I can hardly catch the words.

His eyes soften, going from rage to confusion. His voice breaks off immediately, his mouth forcing itself closed and his eyes drilling into mine and begging that it’s not true.

“I-I’m sorry,” I sigh, reaching for him, “I don’t know how, because he’s terrible right? I shouldn’t love him, I shouldn’t even like him, tolerate him even, but I do. I love him so goddamn much Miles, that it hurts. I wish I didn’t, but I can’t and I- “

“You don’t have to make up excuses for me,” He breathes, clearly trying to pull himself together, “You mean it? You love him?”

I nod, unable to form anymore words as my throat threatens to close and I feel tears brimming in the corners of my eyes. He sighs, feigning defeat, and opens his arms, beckoning me into them. I let him hug me, pulling me tight into his chest and resting his chin on top of my head.

“Does he love you?” He asks, hardly loud enough to hear.

“He came to the airport Miles,” I sniffle, looking up at him and letting him wipe the tears from under my eyes, “He all but chased me down, kissed me, and begged.”

He doesn’t say anything, only purses his lips, and briefly shuts his eyes trying to process everything I’ve said. I know he wants to yell, and scream, and curse me for being so stupid. For running back to the boy that shattered my heart into a million pieces when he, the boy that picked all those pieces up, is standing right in front of me.

“I-I’m sorry Miles,” I choke, the tears finally cascading down my cheeks, “I’m sorry- “

“You don’t have to say sorry to me,” He says, pulling me back into his chest, “I knew it was him, I always knew it, I just didn’t want to believe it.”

There it is again. I always knew it was him. How did everyone else know but me? Sam knew, Audrie knew, now Miles. I guess it’s easier to see these things when you’re looking in from the outside rather than being caught in the middle of it yourself.

“You’re sure he loves you?” He asks after another minute passes.

I let out a small chuckle, sniffling into his shirt, “I’m sure Miles.”

He releases me from the hug, tucking me into his side under his arm instead. He reaches over and wipes my tears again, ruffling my hair as we walk back over to the door to our hotel room. He reaches to wipe my eyes again and I shove his hand, glaring up at him.

“What?” He laughs, the air much lighter now, “I can’t have him beating me up as soon as we get in there because I made you cry.”

I laugh with him as I wipe away the last of my tears and he finally unlocks the door and pushes it open. As soon as I step inside I lock eyes with him, sitting on the small couch in the living space of the hotel room. He stands up as soon as I’m in the door, looking between me and Miles worriedly.

“She’s all yours,” Miles says, finally smiling, “Take care of her or I’ll have your ass Styles.”

Harry nods, smiling even bigger than Miles, and beckoning me to sit on the couch next to him. I collapse on the sofa and before my butt has hardly touched the cushion he’s picking me back up and moving me to sit on his lap instead. I turn to look at him, that amazing smile still adorning his dimpled face, and he grabs my arms, wrapping both of them around his neck.

“Hi.” He says simply, reaching up to tuck my hair behind my ear.

“Hi.” I laugh, trying to keep the lovestruck schoolgirl giggles from escaping my mouth.

“Hi.” He chuckles again, a different tone to it this time, and before I know it he’s leaning into me, our lips just barely brushing.

“A quick reminder that you two aren’t sharing this hotel room alone,” Audrie jokes, reappearing from her bedroom.

We both stop dead in our tracks, our lips that had barely touched now inches apart. My eyes flutter open to meet his and he rolls his eyes, reaching up to grab my face once again. I laugh when I see the devious look in his eyes and for just a moment it feels like that month apart never happened.

“Oh, come on, we all have to share that couch.”

We pull apart once again and I look up to see Miles leaning against the counter of the small kitchen, staring us down disapprovingly but with a small grin on his face nonetheless.

“Alright, you know what,” Harry laughs, standing from the couch and hoisting me up in his arms, making me squeal, “We will be in our room until further notice, knock if you need us, but please, try not to need us.”

I throw my head back in laughter as he shuffles behind the door with me still balanced in his arms, kicking it closed rather roughly and tossing me on the bed.

“Harry!” I squeal, and he shushes me, laughing even harder than I am.

“They’re so going to kick us out of here.” He chuckles, leaning down to me and finally pressing his mouth to mine.

I can feel his lips smiling against mine, his hands roaming all over my body and suddenly what started as a delicate kiss has turned into something else entirely. We’re breathing heavy, our mouths molded together, both of us following the steps to a dance we haven’t done in a long time.

“Harry,” I breathe, trying to pull away but he holds me even closer, “Harry, we can’t- “

“Why not?” He pants, “I closed the door.”

“Harry!” I squeal, shoving him off me and making him laugh, “They’ll hear us!”

“Okay, so um,” He ponders aloud, his eyes searching the room and landing on the door behind us, “Bathroom, yes bathroom, shower.”

I can’t keep my giggles contained as he hoists me back up in his arms, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, and his mouth capturing mine once again. He walks us through the door, kicking it closed with a loud slam and making us both laugh once again. I thread my fingers through his hair just as he sets me down on the edge of the bathroom counter and the muffled groan that slips past his lips makes my whole body feel like it’s on fire.

“Bathtub,” He mumbles against my lips, “Let me fuck you in the bathtub.”

“Harry!” I yelp, burying my face in his chest and realizing I missed how flustered his dirty mouth can make me in just a few words.

He only laughs, that devious smirk finding its way onto his face as he reaches for the button on my jeans and tugs them down in one switch motion. I shriek again hiding my blushing face in my hands and he chuckles, pulling my hands away from my face. He hoists me up again, both of us laughing as he sets me in the tub and runs the water.

“Harry, what are you doing?” I giggle, trying to not be too loud, “They’re going to hear us.”

He grins that devilish grin and leaves me standing in the bathtub as it fills, instead walking over to the shower and turning it on, filling the room with white noise from the running water.

“You’re insane you know.” I say, locking eyes with him as he crosses the space between us, my hands instinctively reaching to cover up my bottom half.

“You make me insane.” He says, coming to stand directly in front of me, the wall of the bathtub the only thing separating us.

His words make my stomach do backflips and my chest feel tight, like it might burst in the best way. I feel my hands moving without my volition and suddenly I’m yanking my top off and throwing it in the pile of my jeans already pooled on the floor.

“Are you coming?” I smirk, reaching behind my back to the clasp of my bra.

“Uh, fuck, yeah just a second,” He chuckles, his brain clearly scattered at the sight of me braless, sinking into the water and staring up at him while he tries to stumble out of his shoes and socks, “Oh, fuck it, Jesus Christ woman.”

He surprises me by swinging his leg over the side of the bath and soaking his jeans. I shriek as he leans down and cups my face, bringing my lips to his while the water still filling the bath gushes out of the sides of the tub. He’s laughing as his lips meet mine and his sopping wet t-shirt is pressed against me. I try to shove him away, giggling against his lips as I hear the overflow of water smacking against the tile floor.

“Harry!” I squeal, “You’re going to flood the hotel room!”

“Don’t care,” He mumbles against my mouth, only breaking away for long enough to tug my underwear down my legs and toss them behind him.

He leans back into me and I welcome the feeling of his mouth against mine almost as much as the electricity coursing through me as his hands roam my bare skin. I can hardly breathe when I’m this entwined with him, this engulfed in his smell and touch and taste. I’m so encapsulated I hardly even notice the first knock on the door, or even the second.

He sighs against my mouth and pulls away from me, hanging his head on his shoulders in defeat. I thread my fingers through his hair, making him look up at me, and before I can even say a word his mouth is on mine again. His hands find their way to my chest and it takes every fiber of my being to keep my itching fingers away from the button on his jeans.

“Harry,” I pant, “We have to get the door.”

“No, we don’t,” He says, “What door? I don’t hear a door.”

I laugh against his mouth, letting him tug me closer and turning my head to give him better access to the sensitive skin of my neck just as the knocking resumes.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” He huffs, finally breaking away from me and standing from the bath, swinging each of his sopping wet legs over the wall of the tub.

I expect him to at least put on a towel, something, but instead he walks over to the door dripping wet, his t-shirt absolutely glued to him, and every muscle underneath the thin fabric clearly visible.

“Harry, at least grab a towel.” I sigh, stepping out of the bath myself and wrapping one around me.

He waves me off, opening the bathroom door instead, “Someone better be fucking dying so help me g- “

His voice cuts off on the last word of his sentence, his demeanor changing, and I come around the other side of him to be able to see into the hotel room myself, coming face to face with none other than Vance.

I try to hold in my laughter, but I know it’s written all over my face while I’m standing here in front of my boss, wrapped in nothing but a towel, standing next to his soaking wet son, dripping all over the hotel carpet.

“Oh, hey Dad,” Harry smiles, reaching up to rub the back of his neck, “Didn’t know you were stopping by.”

HARRY

I swipe my keycard and walk back into the hotel room dressed in one of Lex’s ill-fitting suits with a groan. If I would have known this trip was going to be chalked full of boring meetings I would have rescinded my invitation in the first place. I hear a chuckle come from the couch and turn around to see Miles looking rather comfortable with a beer in one hand and a football game on the TV.

“There’s another one in the fridge.” He nods, gesturing to the small mini fridge in the tiny excuse for a kitchen.

I’m a little caught off guard by his willingness to share a beer with me after our argument earlier today but I guess whatever conversation he and Jess had while I brought in her stuff got him to come around.

“Where are the girls?” I ask, collapsing on the sofa next to him.

“Getting ready for dinner,” He shrugs, “Locked themselves in me and Audrie’s room.”

“Course they did,” I sigh, running a hand through my hair, “Guess me and Jess won’t be picking up where we left off.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little soon?” He asks, causing me to turn and look at him only to see him still completely focused on the game, “You two need to like, talk first.”

“Do we?”

“I mean, it’s been a month man, isn’t it a little awkward?”

Suddenly my head hurts, am I moving too fast? Jess would tell me if I was, wouldn’t she? Surely, she wouldn’t just let me feel her up in the bathtub if she didn’t want that too.

“I guess it is, a little bit, we kind of just keep getting interrupted.” I ramble.

“Yeah, rather monumentally interrupted actually.” He laughs, and I reach over and punch him in the arm making him fake wince.

“I can’t believe you let him in,” I scoff, “You knew what we were doing.”

“Exactly.” He smirks, warranting me to reach over and smack him once again.

“You really think it’s too soon?” I ask him, unable to believe that I’m actually asking Miles for his opinion on this situation.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” He laughs, finally turning to look at me.

“You’re right,” I sigh, sitting back again the couch and stealing the beer bottle out of his hand, “Don’t answer that.”

He opens his mouth to speak again, most likely reprimanding me for stealing his beer, but he’s cut off by the bedroom door opening. Jess and Audrie emerge from behind it, both of them in short dresses and some very tall heels.

“Oh, come on boys, you better be getting ready for dinner,” Audrie scolds, “We’re going down in ten minutes.”

“What, I’m ready,” I laugh, gesturing to Lex’s suit, “Or would you rather me put back on my soaking wet jeans, because that’s what I have packed.”

Audrie rolls her eyes, holding her hand to her forehead, “I guess I know what we’re doing on our fun day off tomorrow, taking you to get clothes.”

“I’ll be just fine,” I say, standing from the couch and walking over to Jess, “I happened to come on this trip on a bit of a whim.”

She looks up at me, her eyes glaring, and I laugh as I throw my arm around her, leaning down to leave a quick kiss on her lipstick covered lips.

“Harry!” She squeals, shoving me off so I don’t ruin her makeup.

I only chuckle, moving her hair out of her face so I can get a better look at her. She looks so beautiful, her short black dress hugging her body perfectly. I can’t say I wouldn’t prefer if she put a jacket on, leaving something to the imagination, especially now that I’m trying to slow us down.

“Do I look okay?” She asks, her face falling momentarily as she waits for my response.

“Are you kidding, baby?” I ask, taking her hand and making her do a spin for me, “You look fucking gorgeous.”

She’s blushing like mad when she turns around to face me again, trying to hide her rosy cheeks behind her fiery red hair, “Shut up, Harry.”

“No way darling,” I continue, relishing in the way her cheeks get even redder, “You look, Jesus, exquisite.”

She looks up at me meekly, her lips scrunched up in a pout, and I can tell she’s embarrassed by just how much I’m making her blush.

“You look nice too,” She says quietly, clearly trying to get the subject away from herself, “I love the way you look in a suit.”

I barely open my mouth to thank her before she’s grabbing the collar of my shirt and unbuttoning the top button, followed by the second and the third. She steps back and folds my collar down, her eyes glued to the now exposed skin of my chest, just the tops of my tattoos peeking out from under my shirt.

“There, much better,” She nods, finally looking up to meet my eyes, “Much more Harry, a little less Styles.”

“God, I love you.” I grin, pulling her into my chest and placing a kiss to her forehead.

She shoves me away, grinning from ear to ear, and interlocks our hands instead. I look up from her to see Audrie leaning against the kitchen counter, trying her best not to stare, and finally Miles emerges from his room dressed in a suit as well.

“Are we ready to head down for dinner?” He asks, finishing tucking in his shirt as he joins us.

“I believe so.” I chuckle, matching Jess’ giggles and she squeezes my hand to try and get me to stop.

The problem is, I don’t know if I can. I haven’t been able to stop the crazy bubbly feeling in my chest that makes me feel like laughing and smiling to the point of sore cheeks since I first laid eyes on her in that airport. Not since I finally got to tell her I loved her, finally got to hold her, finally got to kiss her and smell her and feel her next to me again.

Her hand has mine in a death grip, almost as if she’s scared if she let’s go even a little bit I’ll disappear again. I never realized I could miss something as simple as the feeling of someone else’s hand in mine. I follow her out the hotel room door, trailing behind Miles and Audrie into the elevator, and riding it down to the bottom floor for dinner.

We follow countless signs directing Styles Publishing employees to the main dining hall at the back of the building and once we step foot through the huge wooden doors I don’t even know where to look first. The dining hall is decorated with crystal chandeliers above every table and fancy white pillars in every corner of the room. There’s twelve tables of our coworkers already full to the brim and upon looking over each of them I land on Lex, standing from his own table and beckoning our small group over to him.

“Come on in, sit down, sit down.” Lex says, gesturing to the rest of the seats around the table.

I scan the name cards at each of the seats and find mine across the table from where Jess is already sat, right to the left side of my father of course. I pick up my name card, handing it out to Miles who’s conveniently sat in his seat right next to Jess already.

“Wanna switch?” I ask hopefully, passing him my name card across the table.

He grabs it reluctantly, rolling his eyes as he places it at his seat and then rounds the table to take my chair instead. I can’t wipe the smile off my face as I come to sit next to Jess, shooting her a cheesy grin that makes her laugh as I scooch my chair over even closer to hers, so our legs are touching.

“You’re a mess.” She laughs, shaking her head at me.

“I just missed you,” I say quietly so hopefully no one else can hear, “A lot.”

“I missed you too,” She grins, leaning into me and laying her head on my shoulder, “A lot.”

Dinner is just starting and over in what feels like a flash. One minute I’m handing the waitress a fifty-dollar bill and telling her to keep Jess’ champagne glass filled, and the next Vance is already standing from the table to excuse us all back to our rooms.

“I’ll see you all tomorrow when we take our trip to go see the new building,” Vance says, “For now, go get a good night’s rest and have fun sightseeing tomorrow.”

I stand from my chair and hold my hand out to Jess who nearly trips on her own feet as she wobbles, leaning half of her weight on me. I can’t help but laugh as she gets her footing, grabbing onto my shoulder with a tight grip as she rights herself in those tall heels.

“I can take your shoes for you if you want,” I suggest, kneeling down to unstrap them from her feet, “Can carry you too.”

“I’m fine,” She slurs, grabbing my hands and pulling me to my feet, “I got it, I got it.”

I try to keep my laughing contained as she hooks her arm through mine for stability and we walk at a turtle’s pace back over to the elevators. As soon as we’re behind the doors, ascending to our floor, her hands are all over me, her lips glued to my neck. I’m so full of potatoes and beef tenderloin I sure hope she’s not wanting me to strip her down as soon as we get in the room. I can hardly move, and my eyelids are suddenly very heavy.

“Baby, baby, baby,” I chuckle, taking her hands from around my neck, “Don’t you think we’re taking it a little fast?”

“Not at all.” She says, her voice continuing to slur as the elevator comes to a stop on our floor.

I pry her off of me, her giggles growing louder by the second the longer I’m trying to drag her out of the elevator. She pouts as I continue to our room, taking out my keycard with her trailing behind me. I’ve hardly swiped the card to open the door before I feel her hands squeezing my ass, making me jump out of my skin. I turn around to see the mischievous look on her face, biting that lip and batting those big brown eyes the way that she knows drives me crazy.

“What do you think you’re doing, dollface?” I ask, quirking up an eyebrow as I push the door open and tug her inside.

“Nothinggg,” She teases, dragging out the word, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her into my chest finally, my hands sinking south and grabbing a handful of her ass instead. She squeals in my arms, finally leaning up to kiss me, just as the light above us flickers on and my head snaps up to see Miles standing in the living room.

“Can you guys give it a break?” He groans, “There’s other people in this room you know.”

I roll my eyes, rocking back and forth on my feet with her still fully wrapped in my arms. She’s still a giggling mess, and I know it’s partly the alcohol in her system, but I sure hope I have something to do with how happy she is too.

“You know what I want?” Jess grins excitedly, wrapping her arms around my waist and laying her chin on my stomach to look up at me.

“What’s that baby?”

“I want a Shirley temple,” She smirks, “I need something sweet.”

“I don’t think you need any more alcohol in your system.” I laugh, brushing her hair away from her face.

“Oh, come on,” She whines, puffing out her lip in a pout, “I can handle my liquor, you know that.”

“Of course, you can.” I chuckle, tucking her hair behind her ear again but she scrunches up her face, shoving my hand away before wobbling back over to the door.

“Are you coming?” She asks impatiently, looking back at me over her shoulder.

I look back over at Miles, wishing he’d help me out here, but he only laughs, gesturing to the door, “You heard the girl, are you coming?” He teases, making me roll my eyes and give him the finger before reluctantly following her out the door.

She braces herself once again, hooking her arm through mine and leaning half of her weight on me as I nearly drag her to the bar at the far side of the bottom floor of the hotel. She finally detaches herself from me and clumsily collapses on a barstool, patting the one next to her excitedly. I can’t help but grin as I sit down next to her and she immediately kicks her feet up into my lap.

“What do you want?” She asks, “Jager bomb?”

“Maybe something a little lighter,” I laugh, “How about a Corona?”

“You’re no fun,” She pouts before turning to the bartender on the other side of the bar, “I’ll have a Shirley temple and he’ll have a Corona please!”

The bartender’s head snaps up to her, leaning half way over the bar in her drunken state, and I apologize on her behalf, sitting her back down on the barstool. She’s giggling as she grabs either side of my face in her hands, pulling me down to her, and messily smashing her lips onto mine. I can’t help but smile against her mouth as her hands move to my hair instead, tugging on the strands, and making it nearly impossible for me to pull away from her instead of taking her right here on the bar counter.

“Shirley Temple,” The bartender says, interrupting us by sliding her drink over to her, “And a Corona.”

I can see the redness creeping up her cheeks in embarrassment as she thanks the bartender and passes me my beer bottle. As soon as the bartender leaves us for the other end of the bar she sputters out a laugh, leaning back against me, making me erupt in laughter too. She grabs her drink and takes a sip off the top, humming in approval of the sugary alcohol and grinning ear to ear.

I know that now is probably the worst time, but for some god forsaken reason Miles’ words are echoing in my head, reminding me that it’s too soon, and we need to talk first. What is there to talk about? We’re together, we love each other, and everything is great, isn’t it?

“Jess do you think we can um,” I ask quickly, the words falling past my lips before I can catch them, “Do you think we can talk?”

“Talk?” She asks, turning to look at me over the rim of her glass.

“Yeah, you know,” I say uneasily, trying to find the best way to work around this, “Talk about us?”

“Yeah, of course we can,” She says, her voice sounding significantly less slurred than it did earlier as she turns away from me and back to the bartender, “I’m sorry, can I get like a ton of extra cherries?”

The bartender nods, grabbing a small whiskey glass and filling it straight to the top with maraschinos. She thanks him as he passes it across the bar to her, and takes a cherry off the top, popping it into her mouth and pulling the stem off the end.

“Watch this.” She says, her voice slightly muffled by the cherry sitting in her cheek.

She starts popping the cherries in her mouth one by one, counting after each one and suddenly she’s at ten and still able to fully speak. I feel myself drifting away from what’s important the longer she’s stuffing cherries in her mouth and swaying to the jazzy music playing from the speakers above us.

“Jess,” I say suddenly, forcing myself to keep to the matter at hand, “I meant like now, if that’s okay- “

“Fifteen!” She shouts, cutting me off, “We are officially at maximum cherry capacity!”

She looks over at me, her mouth bursting with cherries and her eyes still glossy. Is she avoiding this? Does she not really want to talk? Do we even really need to talk? Maybe Miles is just full of shit, trying to sabotage me just when everything is falling into place again. Or maybe we do, and both of us are just too scared for what that might entail.

“Jess, do you not want to talk about things?” I ask.

She groans, her giggly buzz dying out as soon as the words have left my mouth. She holds up one finger and turns away from me to empty her mouth of cherries back into the empty glass and I grimace as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Listen Harry,” She sighs, “Some days are for talking things out, and some days are for shoving a bunch of cherries in your mouth and getting drunk, and that’s today,” She huffs, grabbing her glass and gulping the rest of her drink down, “So are you going to come over here and kiss me or are we going to talk?”

I can’t believe the sight in front of me, the slurring drunken girl staring at me with those challenging eyes, waiting for my response as she pops a cherry in her mouth, twirling the stem between her fingers. I lean forward, grabbing the cherry from her mouth and dropping it onto the bar counter beside us as I press my mouth to hers. Her lips are ice cold and taste like straight sugar, dyed bright red from the grenadine.

I pull away from her to catch my breath, trying not to make a scene, “Can I get exactly sixteen cherries please?” I smirk, turning to the bartender and glancing at her out of the corner of my eye, “I’m trying to break a record.”

Corrupt Masterlist

#harry styles #harry smut #harry #harry styles smut #harry styles oneshot #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry fic #one direction #one direction fanfic #one direction fanfiction

9 notes · View notes

staticscreenwriting · 4 years

Text

12 Days of Christmas - [Day 4]

A/N: Day number 4 for the Christmas coundown with @mattysheelies. This one’s almost 6k words. I loved writing this and I hope you like it too. It’s cheesy and cutesy and maybe cliché but it’s Christmas so idgaf. ENJOY ♥

Prompt: Snowed in together.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

“I felt so lonesome, all of a sudden. I almost wished I was dead.”

It happens, every once in a while, that you read a sentence in a book that you’ve read a hundred, maybe a million times before and it suddenly hits you like a punch straight to your gut. Because it’s different now. The book has stayed the same all through the seasons but you realize, you’re a whole new person who’s been through a whole new set of trials and tribulations. And all of a sudden you understand.

I slump back into the cold, sticky plastic of the bright blue seat and clutch my beat up copy of Catcher in the Rye closer to me. I face the huge windows, looking out into the black of the night and the airplanes, firmly rooted on the ground. There’s a heavy downfall of snow and no sign of it stopping anytime soon.

Maybe, I realize, this is my reckoning. Isn’t this what I’ve been wishing for ? A white Christmas like the one from the songs and the movies ?

Well merry fucking Christmas, (Y/N).

Every snowflake is a sick reminder of what could have been. Of what isn’t.

I let my eyes travel around the area. Rows and rows of blue plastic seats. There’s not a lot of people waiting around here. I assume most people have flown home a few days ago to make it in time for Christmas and the few that weren’t smart enough to do that, have resorted to some bar or a restaurant or something.

In theory, I could do that too. The thing is, spending Christmas eve by myself in an airport restaurant, would just seal the deal for this being the most depressing and downright sad Christmas of my whole life.

So I stay seated and lose myself in Holden Caulfield's delightful pretentiousness.

They’re playing Christmas music from a nearby speaker. I wonder if they want to taunt me. Me and everyone else stuck in a fucking snowstorm on Christmas Eve in god damn Indianapolis. They even have a tree set up and where it should make people happy, it only makes me even more sad. I wanna be home with my family, decorating my own tree with all the weird and quirky ornaments we’ve collected over the years. They all come with their own stories and it fills my heart with bittersweet nostalgia.

I’ve never known what being homesick feels like until tonight.

Again my eyes move along the rows of plastic seats. There’s a man in a sharp suit a few rows down. He’s got neatly combed hair and a red tie and shiny shoes and a face that says “ My name is Michael and I don’t allow anyone to call me by a nickname and I have an important job and I drive an expensive car and I probably fuck my secretary. “

It’s not a face you particularly want to look at. Except maybe if you’re said secretary.

A family of 3 sits by the end of the row. They seem — at peace. And for a moment I wish I could be them. I guess it’s different being stuck if you’re stuck with the people you love.

It makes me bitter to think about it so I avert my eyes and let them travel down the other side of rows. Which turns out to be no better for my mental state because there’s a couple there and they do not seem to care that an airport terminal is not the ideal place for some serious tongue action.

Across from them sits a guy, he’s got a mean mullet. Strands and strands of golden curls. He’s wearing a leather jacket and big black boots and there’s a deep scowl permanently edged onto his face. If he’s aiming for the whole bad boy vibe, he’s really nailing it.

I can see him shaking his head, as he too notices the couple getting awfully touchy, and I can’t suppress a laugh.

He notices and he looks at me and even across two whole rows of plastic seats I can see just how gorgeously blue his eyes are.

He doesn’t laugh or smirk or does anything to give me any indication of his feelings. Maybe I’m grateful for it. Maybe I wish he would. It would be quite nice to make a connection with someone right now. Just to make being alone feel a little less lonely.

“ the snow's comin' down

(Christmas) I'm watchin' it fall

(Christmas) lots of people around

(Christmas) baby, please come home”

It’s quite ironic, really,that they would chose this damn song. Of all the Christmas songs in all of the world.

Mullet boy seems to be a kindred spirit in this regard, I can see him sigh and murmur a “for fucks sake” into to collar of his jacket, as he sinks deeper into the chair.

“They’re singing deck the halls, but it’s not like Christmas at all. “

Yeah it really fucking isn’t.

A smacking of lips catches my attention and I focus back on the couple just to witness the guy’s hand travel straight under the sweater of his girlfriend. It’s a sight I don’t particularly want to see.

A sight that apparently makes my face screw up in aversion. And as it does, old blue eyes looks back at me and this time, I see a smirk. It vanishes as quickly as it appeared but I know for a fact that it was there. Maybe I don’t have to be all that lonely after all.

I close the bruised and battered orange book that, at this point, is hardly orange anymore, and place it in my backpack. If my life was a John Hughes movie or maybe any other romantic comedy, I’d get off my seat and walk over. There’d be some cheesy some playing in the background, maybe by the Smiths. I would throw him a smile and he’d look at me, an angel’s choir singing wonderous melodies. And tonight would change both our lives forever.

Alas my life is not a movie that Morrissey wrote any songs about. I am a coward and my heart already lies in several little pieces at my feet. So I don’t walk over just like that with no idea what to say, no incentive.

Instead I grab my backpack and walk past him, down a long corridor and end up at a vending machine that sells both, coffee and soup and I secretly pray that they don't come from the same jet.

The last coffee I had, I think as the warm liquid fills the paper cup, I bought at the little cart by Kelvin’s dorm room. It was a good coffee, had Hazelnut sirup in it. I remember the warmth of it in my hand. I remember the taste on my tongue. I vividly remember the sound of the cup hitting the floor and the stains on my pants and the feeling of my heart as it broke in two.

I don’t want to remember that though, so I will myself to ignore it. To push the thoughts away. I fill the second cup, grab it, put lids on them and then carry them back towards the row of seats.

Mullet boy doesn’t as much as glance at me as I drop down in the seat next to him. Only shows me that he notices me as I hold one of the coffee cups out to him.

“ Sorry it’s not booze. I know that would make looking at these two a little more entertaining. “

For a second he just looks at me in confusion, contemplates whether or not to trust me. In the end he takes the drink so I take that for a good sign.

“ Thanks. “

His voice is deep and raspy and I really really like the way it sounds.

“ I wonder if they even realize there’s other people around “ I say, watching the dude’s hand travel down the girls back, as they dreamily blink at each other like the main characters on a romance novel. Maybe those two get the romance and the the Smith song in the background. Maybe I’m just a sad side character in their story.

Mullet boy scoffs, takes a sip of coffee then speaks up. “ Don’t even think they’d notice if we joined in “.

He smirks at that. There’s an absolute underappreciation for people who laugh at their own jokes. I think it’s charming, endearing even. If you can’t laugh at your own joke, how do you expect anyone else to do it.

“ Least they’re not alone on Christmas fucking eve “

I don’t know why I say it. I don’t necessarily want to share my sob story. Sometimes my words just move faster than my head does.

“ Christmas is overrated anyway “ blue eyes says and shrugs his shoulders in a way that’s supposed to look casual. Only you can’t say shit like “Christmas is overrated” and be casual about it. There’s always more to a statement like that.

“ You think ? “

“ I know. “

“ How come ? “

He turns to face me and raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow. It’s like he’s straight from the cover of one of my mom’s romance novels. I think it’s quite unfair that he gets to look like this on a day like today and I — I look just the way I feel. Sad. Exhausted.

“ It’s none of your business. “

“ Oh geez, and here I was thinking we were bonding over our shared distaste for PDA. Guess not. “

“ You guessed right. “

For a moment, we fall into silence as another song plays over the stereo that has entirely too many obnoxious jingle bells in the backing track. For a moment I feel very lonely again.

It’s then, that the universe seems to have pity on me. It sends me a sign. A gift. A little Christmas miracle if you will.

That comes in the form of the couple getting more touchy, more — obnoxious. So obnoxious that the girl leans back, presumably to lay on the seats, only that’s not what happens. It seems to happen in slow motion when really it’s probably only the blink of an eye. She leans back and back and back and suddenly tumbles off the seats and onto the cold linoleum floor, her mister holding onto her so tightly, he falls right down with her.

My mama always told me not to laugh at other people’s misfortune. But at 18 years of age, I feel it’s time to break some rules my mama set. And this is one of them.

I can’t help it. I laugh. It comes from the deepest corner of my belly and fills my entire being. Then I catch those gorgeous blue eyes looking at my and I notice he’s laughing too. A hearty laugh. I think it’s a good one. No halfway laugh. No bullshitting. It’s a proper laugh and, as we lock eyes, our laughter only seems to increase.

The magic bubble that, until now, has surrounded the couple, seems to have been popped. It’s vanished. For them at least. Because as our laughter rings in unison, a proper harmony of joy, I feel like maybe me and mullet boy have been given a tiny spark of magic ourselves.

“ I’m (Y/N), by the way “ I say, trying to hold in more chuckles.

“ Billy ”

“ No no, you got it all wrong. His name is Michael and he’s on a business trip that he tells his wife he couldn’t postpone but actually he just wanted to get away from his family for the holidays. “

“ Michael ? nah. This dude’s not a Michael. “

“ So what’s his name then, Billy ? “

He thinks for a moment, face scrunched up in a way that is absolutely adorable. It makes him look way younger than he probably is. Very boy-ish. Very cute.

“ Edward “

“ Edward ? “

“ Yes. Look at him, he looks so boring. And can you think of a more boring name than fucking Edward ? “

I have to admit, he has a point. So I shrug and nod. “ You have a point. “

The little family from earlier, passes us and, as the mom glances towards us, her eye linger on Billy just a moment too long for it to be accidental. And he notices, the cocky bastard. He notices and revels in it, letting the corner of his lips lift up in a teasing smirk.

“ What the fuck was that ? “ I asked, flattened by the sheer audacity for both of them.

“ I got that effect on women of all ages. “

“ Wow, your ego is really tiny, huh. “

When he looks at me, grin widening and eye filling with mischief, I know I just said the wrong thing. I set myself up with this one, I admit that.

“ That’s the only thing tiny about me. “

“ Aaaand that’s my cue to leave. “ I pull myself halfway out of my seat when his arm shoots out and his hand grabs onto mine. The mischief in his eyes in gone, completely replaced by a pure and unfiltered honesty.

“ Stay. Please. “

I sink back down and we fall into a silence. He knows that I saw it in his eyes, the fear of being left alone and I know that he knows and so we’re stuck in this weird limbo of whether to ignore it or spill our sorrows to one another. And maybe it’s because today is Christmas and on Christmas you tell the truth, even if it to a stranger at an airport, but he suddenly breaks the silence and starts talking.

“ I don’t wanna be alone. “

“ Yeah me neither. “

“ I uh — I was supposed to be in California, to visit my mom over Christmas. I haven’t seen her in — in years. This was supposed to be our first Christmas together since I was 8. I called her earlier, from the payphone. I thought she might be devastated. She’s not. I don’t think she cares very much if I’m there or not. I’m still debating whether or not I wanna get on the plane if it ever goes. “

“ I came to visit my boyfriend for Christmas. Surprise him, you know. He’s going to college here in Indiana. We’re both from California and we haven’t seen each other since the summer. I thought It was the ultimate proof of my love to him. Well — turns out he’s been fucking his way around campus while I’ve been busy making plans on how to rearrange my life and all my dreams, to come study with him in Indiana after I graduate High School. “

Another silence fills our hearts but this one isn’t thick with anticipation and tension. It’s one that settles deep in our bones as we realize, that sometimes there’s comfort in shared misery.

“ Merry fucking Christmas to us. “ Billy murmures.

“ Do you wanna go see if we can get a drink at the bar ? “

“ That’s the best idea I’ve heard in a while. “

“ I can not believe your fake ID says you’re name’s Ricky Hardman. “

“ If you’re mocking me I can just drink this myself, you know. “

“ Oh come on. It’s just — that sounds like such a porn name. “

“ So what. “

I have to snort at his complete lack of self reflection. He knows I’m right but he’s so stubborn. Again I find myself thinking it’s endearing rather than annoying.

To come back to a statement I made earlier, I also think we don’t appreciate the people enough, that make us snort-laugh. Is it a bit embarrassing and cringy? Sure but it’s a laugh either way and I don’t think we should ever take that for granted.

“ Put the cups down so I can spice it up a little bit “ Billy instructs me and I do as he says. This is probably our 4th refill of coffee for the night, my mom would have a go at me for all the caffeine but whatever.

Billy opens the bottle of booze he just purchased at the airport store and pour us both a decent amount into our coffees. Might as well have our own little Christmas celebration if we’re stuck here with nothing else to do.

Cups clutched in our hands we roam around the airport, cheeks warming up from the alcohol. I feel more at peace now and yet my heart is ever as heavy with the longing to be home.

A sign directs us towards the visitors terrace where families usually gather to watch the planes take off and land. It’s deserted now but that’s not really a surprise. It’s cold, it’s snowing and there’s no flights going anyway. It’s just a dark, snowy night and a lonely runway illuminated by small lights that, if you believe hard enough, almost look like fairy lights in the distance.

“ I know it looks pretty, “ I say as I lean against the banister of the terrace “ but I really don’t find snow all that great.”

“ I fucking sucks, “ Billy replies. “ It’s cold and wet and turns into gray slosh in the matter of a few minutes. “

“ I always dreamed of a white Christmas, now I can’t wait to never see snow again. “

“ Me too. I hate it. Snow. Indiana. At least you get to stay in California once you make it there. I have to wait until graduation to finally move back home. “

I don’t want to pry, I really don’t but there’s something about him that intrigues me. Everything he says and does in scrowded in some kind of mystery. Some hidden meaning in all of it.

The way he looks and the way his words hold a certain softness to them, is a whole enigma in itself.

“ You wanna come back to Cali ? “

“ Fuck yes. I can’t stay here longer than I need to. I miss the sun and the beach and — my home. “

“ Oh god yes, the beach. “

“ See, and you wanted to give up on all of that for a guy called Kelvin. “

“ I — he’s nice.”

“ Oh I’m sure he is. And secure and smart. “

“ He is. We’ve been together since my sophomore year in Highschool. He was my first — everything. He studies business and is gonna take over his dad’s company one day. “

Billy blows a raspberry before turning to me with his perfect eyebrow raised in mockery.

“ That is so dull. “

“ It’s not “

“ But it is ! Tell me honestly, do you really love this guy or is it just — comfortable. Being with him ? “

And once again, something that I’ve considered so many times in my life, suddenly affects me in a completely different way than I am used to. I understand all of a sudden.

I get it.

“ I mean, maybe you have a point. What makes you the relationship expert though ? “

“ Nothing. I’m not saying I am. But I know I never plan on spending my whole life with someone because I am comfortable with them. It’s your goddamn life, you should live it for yourself. “

It hits me light a freight train. Straight in the heart. He’s right. Whether I want to admit it or not, Billy is right. I don’t let him know that though, it’s hard enough admitting it to myself. I think he knows anyway, by the way I look at him. By the way he looks at me.

“ Have you decided whether or not you wanna get on the flight ? “ I ask. It’s still not my place to ask those questions but it feels like something has shifted between us. Like tonight is ours entirely. A night of truths. Of heart opened and unguarded.

“ The alternative is spending Christmas with my dad and his wife and my stepsister. “

“ Sounds alright to me. “

“ Yeah, only my dad is the biggest asshole on the planet. He’s not a nice guy. His wife is a fucking nutcase, obeying his every will. She has the backbone of a jellyfish. And Max — Max hates me. That one’s my fault though. “

I want to hug him. It’s a strong urge that overcomes me. A sudden rush. His words are soft and sad and frustrated and I can see in his eyes just how much this hurts him. And god, it’s Christmas Eve. I just want to make him feel a little less alone.

So I do. I hug him, rest my head on his shoulder and together we look at the snow falling around us, covering the world in a thick white frosty blanket.

“ I’m sorry about that. Just so you know though, I’m glad we’re stuck here together. “

“ Well yeah, I’m hot and fun and I have great hair. “

“ Oh there we go again with the ego. “ I laugh. He makes me me laugh. Like genuinely laugh. I can’t remember the last time I felt like this around Kelvin.

“ What’s that book you’ve been reading. “ Billy asks as the laughter settles down again.

“ Catcher in the Rye. It’s one of my favorites. “

“ Uh-huh. What’s it about ?”

“ This boy, Holden. He gets kicked out of prep school and runs of to New York City and yeah it basically chronicles his days in NYC. It’s about loss of innocence and isolation. “

“ Sounds absolutely — “

“ Wonderful “

“ Boring. “

Here’s the thing about interests and hobbies. They’re a very personal, very individual experience. They’re yours. And yes, maybe it’s nice to share your passions with another person who feels the same. But let’s be honest: It doesn’t really matter. I am not hurt by Billy’s disinterest. Not even by his mocking scoff. Because it in no way lessens my love for the book. The story it tells and the nostalgia it brings me.

It also doesn’t lessen the affection growing inside me, towards Billy. An affection that both scares and excites me at the same time. By all means, it is delusional to fall for a stranger at an airport, who doesn’t even live in the same state as me. Someone I’ve only spent a few hours with.

Then again, life is never a straight path. I used to think it was but after tonight, maybe I can let myself take some backroads. Take a road less traveled. See where it leads me and if it brings me to a dead end, turn around and try again.

Maybe sometimes it needs a boy with a leather jacket and gorgeous blue eyes, to make you realize that life can be so much more if you just let yourself live it.

“ Okay sure. What are your interests then ? I’m sure there’s something you like doing, something you care about. “

“ My car. “

“ That’s such a guy answer. “

“ Pff, whatever. “

“ What else ? “

He takes a moment to answer. Contemplates. Mulls his answer over in his head. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes I haven’t seen since he talked about his mom earlier tonight.

“ Music. “

“ Music ?”

“ I really care about music. Not — not playing it but just music in itself. You can’t tell anyone this, okay ? It’s a bit ridiculous and It’s not really realistic, but I would love to work at a record label. Or maybe have my own music venue. To help discover bands and find new, awesome music. Whenever I’m sad or angry or frustrated, or even happy, there’s a specific songs for any emotion, any situation. I want everyone to be able to have that in their life. “

There’s something undeniably sexy about someone being passionate about something. He only just started but I could honestly listen to Billy talk about music for hours and hours and hours.

“ So who’s your favorite band then ? “

“ I’ll sound pretentious as fuck but my favorites are probably some local bands from my hometown in California. “

“ Maybe when you’re back home after graduation, you can take me to a gig. Show me some of those bands. “

My heart beats faster as I realize this is the first time either of us has mentioned there being a future. More than just one magical night at the airport.

It slipped out but I’m glad it did. The idea of more nights together, more time spent listening to him talk about his music. Experiencing that music with him. It doesn’t scare me. In fact, it excites me so much.

“ Yeah. Sounds like a plan. “

“ A good plan. “

“ A great plan. “

I don’t know if he notices that I notice, but his hand drops to the small of my back, so gently it’s but a whisper of a touch. It warms me up more than our boozy coffee ever managed to.

Airports have a weird energy. A specific mood that transcends through every corner in every room. It’s loaded with the arrival of change. It might be good and exciting or it might be sad. But something is about to change and you can feel it sizzling in the air.

As I stand next to Billy in the softly falling snow, I know that the girl that arrived at the airport earlier today, heartbroken and without purpose, is not the same girl that’s gonna get on that flight home. Something has changed. I think I like this new girl better.

“ They’re singing deck the halls … “

“ Oh Jesus, what is it with this fucking song ? “

“ What, you don’t like it ? “

“ Do you ? “

“ Totally “

I don’t know what hits me. Maybe it’s the fact that the future is so awfully unknown. I don’t know if after tonight I will ever see Billy again. Or maybe because it’s Christmas.

Or maybe because I’m a little drunk and half in love.

But I start to dance and sing along. With the snow falling down on me. Snowflakes dropping onto my hair and melting, leaving it wet and streaky. But it doesn’t matter right then. All that matter is the music and the night and him and I.

“ Come dance with me. “

“ I don’t dance. “

“ It’s Christmas Eve, Billy. It’s my Christmas wish. Come on. There’s no one around. “

Here’s some piece of advice from me to you: If you’ve never had a guy in a leather jacket and biker boots twirl you around while the snow is falling and Christmas songs play over the stereo, then you’re missing out.

Billy’s hand is warm, his smile is gentle. It’s all so vastly different from the way I felt when touching Kelvin. Everything that comes with Billy is an enigma, a surprise. Nothing is certain and yet I am sure that I’ve never felt more alive than I do right now.

The last chord of the song echoes through the night as Billy pulls me close to him, I can see his breath in the cold, accumulating in little clouds. I can feel his skin in mine.

“ You’re gonna get on that flight, Billy Hargrove. “ I say, my voice but a sigh. A whisper

“ I’m gonna get on the flight. I’m gonna graduate and then come back to California. Permanently this time. I’ll find you and take you to all the underground clubs and show you all my favorite bands. And I’ll even listen to you talk about your books. “

“ Even if you think they’re boring. “

“ Uh-huh. “

“ Hey Billy. “

“ Hmm ? “

“ I think I wanna write a book. I think that’s what I want to do with my life. “

He’s so close now, our noses touching, our breaths touching, our lips touching. Warm and soft and gentle.

“ Write about us, so you don’t forget me. “

I kiss him then. Or he kisses me. I don’t know for sure but really what does it matter. In the grand scheme of things it’s irrelevant who initiated the kiss. It matters that it happened. And by god I will never be able to forget this kiss or the boy that gave it to me.

“ Dear passengers, we are delighted to announce that the runway has been cleared. The sky is blue and free of any downfall. Flights will resume shortly. More information about departure times will be available shortly. Feel free to turn to our staff for guidance or additional information.

“ Billy. Hey, Billy. “ I say, and shake him awake. He looks so peaceful and boyish while sleeping, it breaks my heart a little to interrupt his sleep.

“ Hmm.. ? “

“ I think our flights are gonna go soon. Snow’s stopped. “

“ Oh. “

I don’t have to ask to know what he’s feeling. What he wants to say. “ Oh. this is it for us. “

We gather our stuff, stretch our limbs and get off the uncomfortable plastic seats. The board on the wall shows us that our flights go in just two hours. His to San Diego, mine to LA.

Our time is numbered and we finally have an expiration date. My heart breaks once again though this time I try to hold onto the fact that we both want a future of whatever it is we’re sharing. Even if it’s just a friendship, I want Billy Hargrove in my life.

“ Hey uh — “ Billy speaks up and takes my hand in his “ let’s make a deal. “

“ What deal ? “

“ To see each other again. Maybe — maybe next Christmas Eve. “

“ Where ? “

“ I don’t know. Let me — let me come to you. “

“ Santa Monica pier. “

“ Okay sure. “

“ Cool. “

He kisses me again and this one too, will stay with me forever. In my heart and in my head.

“ Here I’ll give you my phone number. Call me if anything changes. If my dad answers just ignore his stupid comments “ He says, fumbles around in his backpack and come up with a pen and — a cassette tape ?!

“ Something to remember me by “ he points out as he scribbles his number onto the little slip of paper. “ Some of my favorite songs on there. “

“ If you give me something, let me give you something too. “ I say and pull out my old worn out copy of Catcher in the Rye, scribble a message on the first page, then hand it to him.

“ There’s a bunch of notes in the margins. I never got to share them with anyone, I’ll gladly share them with you. “

Then I kiss him. Again and again and again, until it’s all I can think about and all I can feel.

“ Flight 207 to LAX boarding now. “

And that is it for us, at least for now. The magic of last night is broken. It’s Christmas Eve gone, replaced by Christmas day. No snowstorm. No magic. Just the brutal truth that real life awaits.

So we part. With more kisses and a promise.

“ Until next Christmas. “

The plane is already high up in the air when Billy Hargrove pulls the book from his pocket. It’s old and worn out and what looks like it used to be orange once upon a time is now a washed out beige.

He opens it up to the first page and can’t suppress a smile. A real one. Not one of those he fakes for his dad and susann. A real smile that reaches his eyes. One he feels in his heart.

“ Meet me at the Merry-Go-Round! “

His heart soars as he thinks about next year. A future that suddenly looks much brighter than ever before.

There’s a lot of notes and scribbles and highlighted sentences. He skims through it until one passage catches his attention.

“ Make sure you marry someone who laughs at the same things you do. “

And so he thinks back to the overly touchy couple and their magnificent tumble from the plastic seats. And he remembers her laugh and his ringing up in unison.

He understands. That Holden guy has a point. Maybe it’s worth reading the book after all.

A year later.

I’m rushing through the crowd of people, a vibrant clementine sky the backdrop for my misery. God, why can I never be on time.

My heart hammers in my chest. Please don’t leave. Please don’t leave.

His eyes meet mine across the way as he leans against the banister by the Merry-Go-Round and I feel like I am back at the airport. The magic is back.

“ Sorry I am late. I am so so sorry. “ I say and can’t help myself but pull him into a kiss. One filled with passion and longing and a promise kept.

“ Ah If a girl looks swell when she meets you, who gives a damn if she’s late. “ He replies.

“ You read the book. “

“ I read the book and all your notes. “

“ That’s good, I uh — have something else for you to read. “

It’s a bundle of papers, no cover art or fancy pictures on the front page. All it says in big bold letters is “ A white Christmas - a story of girl meets boy. “ I hand it to Billy and he looks at me in confusion.

“What’s that ? “

“ That’s the first draft of my book. “

“ You wrote it! “

“ You believed I could so I did. “

“ What’s it about ? “

“ Oh you know, just a girl and a boy and a magical night at the airport. Lots of snow. Lots of kissing. Little bit of magic. “

“ Can’t wait to read it. So, you wanna go see a band ? “

“ They any good ? “

“ Pretty fucking good!”

Darlene Love’s voice echoes through the stereo and for the first time I have to disagree. This feels like Christmas more than any moment before ever did.

And my baby is finally home.

Taglist; [I copied this from @mattysheelies and just added a few new ones, if you wanna be added or deleted from the taglist please let me know]

@sebastiansloserclub ; @killer-queen-xo ; @william-hargroves ; @billysgodcomplex ; @daisyxbuckley ; @allabouthargrove ; @mcrmarvelloki ; @charmed-asylum ; @1998--js ; @naiomiwinchester ; @hargrovesprincess ; @mystrangerfics ; @teafrompari ; @staybruuutal ; @colourado ; @higher-further-faster-bb ; @ayybtch ; @carlaangel86 ; @baebee35

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove imagines #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #12dayswriting

124 notes · View notes

buoyantsaturn · 4 years

Text

Give ‘Em Hell, Kid (1/1)

to: @bookplush merry christmas annabel!!

summary: Meg needs a shopping buddy. Nico wants nothing to do with this.

word count: 1,756

read on ao3

With many of the campers away for the holiday season, camp was looking even more empty than usual. For the first time in months, Nico wasn’t the only one that had to sit alone at his breakfast table, though that didn’t make it any less lonely.

He was about to clean up and move on to the arena when somebody sat down across from him.

“You must be a pretty big loser to be sitting here all by yourself,” Meg told him, getting comfortable.

Nico raised an eyebrow, choosing not to point out the other scarce tables nearby. “You must be a pretty big loser to be sitting across from me right now.”

Meg’s eyes narrowed behind her glasses. “Touche.” She tilted her head curiously. “You know, I think this might be the first time I’ve ever seen you without that blond kid that smells like antiseptic attached to your hip.”

Nico frowned. “You mean...Will? My boyfriend?”

“Sure. Where’s he at?”

“Visiting his mom for the holidays.”

“Do you celebrate?”

“What?”

“The holidays.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “Which one?”

“That’s what I’m asking. So, what is it? Solstice? Christmas? Hanukkah? Or, uh. Another one?”

“Christmas.”

“Really?” Meg wrinkled her nose. “But you’re Pagan.”

“No, I’m Catholic.”

“Your dad is Hades.”

“Okay, fine. Pagan and Catholic.” When Meg gave him a weird look, Nico elaborated simply by saying, “My mom was Catholic.”

Meg leaned forward on the table with her hands folded under her chin. “I see…”

“Did you need something?”

“Yeah, I heard you can get people out of camp,” Meg told him finally.

Nico gave her a tired look. He got enough of this from Hermes kids who wanted to restock their illegal snack supplies. “Yeah. So can you. The border’s right over there, but I don’t recommend making a run for it, since we’re a few miles away from civilization.”

Meg rolled her eyes. “Uh, yeah, duh. That’s why I came to you. I need to go to a store.”

“For what?”

“It has come to my attention that I suddenly have siblings. One of them let it slip that they both got me something for insert holiday here, and now I feel bad that I don’t have anything to give them in return. So? What do you say? Take me to the city, and we can steal from some corporations together?”

Nico took a moment to consider this, then sighed. “Yeah, okay. I guess I could surprise Will with a gift when he comes back, then.” He broke out into a grin. “It’ll be an even better surprise when he finds out it’s stolen.”

They ditched their activities for the day so that Nico could shadow travel them into the city. They wandered down the street for a short while, not quite sure what they were looking for just yet, until they walked up to a Target and headed inside.

“Who are you shopping for?” Nico asked as they wandered past the greeting cards at the front of the store.

“Just Miranda and Billie, since everybody else went home,” Meg answered. “But I don’t know what they like, so it’s gonna have to be something kind of generic.”

“Get them flowers.”

Meg stopped in the middle of the aisle. “What.”

Nico turned on his heel to face her, his hands stuffed into his coat pockets as he shrugged. “Demeter kids like flowers, right? Get them flowers. Or, I dunno, pots. Soil.”

“That might be the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.”

Nico frowned. “Hey, I’m just saying what I know.”

“We can literally grow plants from nothing,” Meg reminded him.

Realization slowly dawned on Nico, and he said a nearly silent oh. “Huh. Okay, so that was kind of dumb.” He continued walking, assuming that Meg would follow. “What do you know about them?”

Meg blew out a long stream of air as she thought. “Well, Miranda’s dating Sherman, and she’s my head counselor. And, uh, Billie likes makeup. I think she has a crush on Valentina, but that’s just speculation.”

Nico paused near an aisle end cap. “So, probably not the best idea to get her these gay shoelaces,” he said, holding up a pair of rainbow shoelaces.

“Maybe when she comes out,” Meg said. “Or for her birthday. Whichever comes first.”

They kept heading through the store, occasionally pointing things out to each other as they passed certain aisles, until Nico led Meg down one of the crafting aisles.

“What about something like this?” Nico said, gesturing to an assortment of sketchbooks, then grabbing a pack of multicolored pens off a shelf. “This is what I got for my sister, and she seemed to like it.”

Meg stared at the sketchbooks with deep consideration before she moved further down the row and picked up a smaller book instead. “Maybe not a sketchbook, but one of these journals might be better. And that pack of pens, too. Miranda might not like it all that much, but at least it’ll be useful.”

Meg took the pens from Nico, and stuffed them into one of the pockets of her coat, along with the journal. They weren’t exactly hidden from view since her pockets weren’t all that big, and Nico caught the eye of an employee giving them the stink eye.

Nico made a show of turning to Meg and saying, “You know you can’t just put stuff in your pockets just because you don’t want to carry it. Give those to me.”

Meg frowned, clearly not catching on. “What are you talking about? I thought we--” Nico lightly kicked the toe of her shoe, and Meg stopped herself. “Oh! Uh, okay, fine, whatever!” She shoved the items into Nico’s chest, and continued around a corner.

Nico followed, glancing around the area, though the fluorescent lights didn’t leave a single of the corner unlit. “Damn, there aren’t any shadows in this place. Hang on.”

He unzipped his coat and tucked the journal underneath the fabric, sending it into a shadow that would deposit the object in his cabin, then did the same with the pens.

“How is that any better than my pockets?” Meg demanded, arms crossed.

Nico held open his coat for her to see that the items had completely disappeared. “Because you could’ve been caught. I just sent everything back to camp before anyone noticed anything.”

Meg’s eyes widened in appreciation. “Alright, cool. Let’s go look at makeup now.”

She guided Nico across the store to the overly-bright makeup section, filled with a million products that Nico couldn’t even guess what half of them were supposed to be used for. “Uh, what would Billie want?”

Meg shrugged. “I’unno.” She stepped toward the shelf and started grabbing things at random until her hands were full. Then, she turned back to Nico and shoved it all into his hands. “Okay. Done. Now it’s your turn. What are you getting for Will? A first aid kit?”

Nico tried to think as he stuffed everything under his coat and back to his cabin. “I mean, he wouldn’t hate that…”

Meg punched his arm. “Shut up, you can’t actually get him that. Get him something nicer.”

“Then come up with nicer ideas,” Nico shot back. “C’mon, there’s gotta be some section of the store that’s just full of basic gifts. Let’s find those.”

They wandered a full lap around the store until the registers were in sight, though right as they both turned a corner, they spotted it. The perfect gift for Will. There were rows and rows of ugly Christmas sweaters hung up along the wall, but the best one of them all was tucked away in the corner.

“That is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen,” Nico muttered.

“It’s perfect,” Meg agreed.

On Christmas morning, Nico once again found himself eating breakfast alone at the Hades table. Right as he leaned forward to stuff a bite of french toast in his mouth, something hit him in the back of the head. He found himself getting angry and turned to find whoever assaulted him, though there weren’t any suspicious figures behind him - and besides, he didn’t need to reopen that giant scar across the pavilion floor.

Nico looked down to find whatever had hit him, and saw a small, gift-wrapped package laying on the tile. He picked it up and pulled off the note attached to it.

To: Nico

From: Jesus

Christmas is basically Pagan anyway.

He tore the wrapping off of the gift and found the rainbow shoelaces he’d picked up while he was out shopping with Meg.

He looked toward the Demeter table. Meg offered him a thumbs-up. Nico flipped her off in return.

Will returned a few days after Christmas, unable to spend the full holiday season with his mom since she had to head back out on tour before New Year’s. As soon as he stepped out of the camp van after being picked up at the airport, Nico jumped on him and wrapped him up in a hug.

“Hey. I missed you,” Will told him, returning the hug.

“Missed you, too,” Nico told him. “It’s boring having to eat all by myself every day.” Will rolled his eyes, and Nico pulled away just quick enough to see it. “Come with me, I got you something.”

He dragged Will back to his cabin - allowing Will a second to drop his suitcase at the Apollo cabin - and handed him the gift bag as soon as Will was seated on Nico’s bed. Will peeked underneath the tissue paper, and glared up at Nico.

“Babe, please tell me you didn’t get me an ugly Christmas sweater,” Will warned him. “I know I told you I’m Jewish, and don’t you dare try to pretend I never mentioned it.”

“No, I know. It’s not a Christmas sweater, I promise. Open it already.”

Will sighed and pulled away the tissue paper. He brought out his gift and let out a loud groan, dropping his head onto Nico’s shoulder. “An ugly Hanukkah sweater isn’t any better, you know! My grandma got me this same thing, and I accidentally left it at home for a reason, Nico! How dare you!”

Nico wrapped an arm around Will with a grin, and pulled him up to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m glad you like it!”

“I don’t! Go return it, right now,” Will demanded.

“No way! You got it just in time to wear it on the last night of Hanukkah! And besides, I can’t return something I stole.”

“You WHAT?”

thanks for reading!!

buy me a coffee

#Nico di Angelo #Will solace #solangelo #mine #my writing #annabel

26 notes · View notes

kpopscenario · 4 years

Text

A day in fall

Pairing: Reader x Soonyoung

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: When two strangers accidentally walk into each other.

A/N: descriptive -Gem

When the alarm went off at 8am at a Saturday morning and she slowly opened the puffy eyes, the girl cursed at herself. Why did she set an alarm again on the weekend? Oh right. To explore the city for once instead of staying in bed the whole day. As a new student at the university, she hadn't been in this new city for a long time and still had a lot to explore. And since she liked to discover new places, hidden gems or just enjoy a day outside in the fall season with the sun out, the girl wanted to go out today. So after rubbing her eyes she got up from the bed and waddled to the closet. A light grey sweater, a wool scarf and skinny jeans with the black boots were chosen to wear. An hour later, she was ready to leave the quiet flat.

Not until she walked down the main street and scanned the environment, she realized that she was just one person in a big city, alone. For a moment the girl looked around to find the right direction to a café she saw on the way from the airport but it was quite impossible for her to remember the way now that she was standing there, in the middle of town. So she took out her phone, quickly typing the name of the destination in and waited for the instructions. Usually, exploring with just your instincts guiding you was definitely better but her instincts would surely lead her in the creepiest and dirtiest spot in town so the phone it was. 'Six minutes to walk, that's not too bad', she mumbled as she started to walk in the direction the phone told her to go. It was cold outside but the weather was perfect in her opinion. With the sweater and the huge scarf she might have looked like a penguin but at least it was cosy and warm, the best feeling in fall however was to have a hot chocolate in between your frozen fingers while watching the colourful leaves dropping from the trees. Most of the way, the girl's brown eyes were glued to the phone, so she wouldn't miss any new change of directions. This, for sure was helpful, but the next few seconds were about to teach her otherwise.

Before she could even react, someone crashed into her. So sudden and hard that the phone almost fell out of her hand. Still, it was enough to make her jump and gasp loudly, maybe a bit too loud.

"I could have dropped my sandwich, you dumb- oh", the person in front of her, the stranger who she just bumped into, cut off his harsh words the second he looked down at the girl. His expression softened immediately when he saw how scared she was herself since her eyes were widened as she clung onto her scarf. How long were they looking at each other like that? Her with decreasing shock and him with a softer expression than a few seconds ago.

"S-sorry", she brought out after what seemed like an eternity. She still looked at those big, dark eyes of the stranger, her hand still clinging onto her scarf. "I didn't mean to…walk into you." Her voice wasn't more than a mumble but it was enough for him to understand her.

"It's fine, it wasn't on purpose", he responded after a long pause. How long was this look? A minute, two, more? She wasn't sure but after a while, she felt her cheeks getting hot, so she was the first to break the contact. She then looked down at the sandwich in his hand, a half-eaten one. He hesitantly followed her eyes and smiled a bit.

"Are you in a hurry? I didn't want to keep you from going, I'm sorry…again. I will leave", she felt her cheeks getting hotter the longer she stood there in front of him like a statue. Did he notice how she had been staring at him? Oh god, why did she have to be so embarrassing. She was about to step aside and pass him as he suddenly spoke up and turned towards her.

"Actually not. I have nowhere to go today…"

"Oh", was all that escaped her plump lips. She dug her cold hands in the pocket of her jeans and watched the boy in a grey coat press his lips together. "Me neither. I just wanted to get breakfast."

He nodded and again, got a bit lost in the girl's eyes. So much, that he didn't really think about his next words and just talked out of the blue.

"Maybe I can accompany you? Coffee sounds good", he smiled weakly but when he saw the girl's lacking reaction to his words, he started to panic. Why did he just do that? He couldn't just invite himself to join. "Unless you don't want to, sorry. I will leave."

"I'd like some company, actually", the words just escaped her mouth instantly, maybe a bit too fast. The boy looked at her with big eyes and then nodded with a weak smile. She returned his warm gesture and lead the way. The two strangers then walked through the rather quiet and empty streets on this cold yet sunny day. She dug her hands deeper in the pockets of the jeans, as the coldness caused goosebumps to spread all over her body. The sky was clear, the sun shone down on them, flooding the streets in this beautiful golden light, making the dead leaves shine in new light. It made her smile, the change from late summer to the first real days of fall. Being able to see the world change, to see the people tugging their coats closer around them, to watch children destroying mountains of leaves or just to notice the little clouds in front of everyone's faces.

The small smile on her face didn't stay unnoticed for too long however. As he looked around and enjoying the pleasant atmosphere between the two strangers, he noticed the warm expression on the girl's face from the corner of his eye. He turned his head a bit, only to notice more and more about her. How her cheeks were coloured in the lightest shade of red, probably because of the cold temperatures. It made her seem rather cute, adorable even. Her lips in contrast were almost brightly red. Even her little dimple was getting scanned by him. Her dark eyes didn't quite match her soft and vulnerable seeming appearance, however this made her even more fascinating. What exactly was it about her that made him look at her for such a long time? What began with a peek to the side turned into a stare. After a while, who could tell the time anyways, she noticed his eyes on her so she looked up at him. Only to meet his stare. Not until then did he realize that he stared at her with no intention of taking his attention away from her again, not until their eyes met in this very second right then. He looked straight forward again, feeling every muscle in his body getting stiff. He almost said 'Sorry' but could keep himself from doing so, since it wouldn't make anything less awkward. Quietly, they kept walking, eventually arriving at the café; a narrow, navy-blue entrance door and little yellow tables outside was the first thing that popped into his eyes.

"Shall we go in?", she asked and turned around for the first time in a while. It was almost weird to hear her voice again after a long pause of talking. Until now, they hadn't had long conversations but was it needed? He then nodded with a smile on his face, leading her the way. Inside, there was music playing in the background, the big windows allowed the golden sunrays to flood the room. It wasn't that busy, only two other couples and an old man reading the newspaper sat there. After getting the needed hot beverage, they were told to sit down wherever they wanted. She looked around the room, choosing a particular place on the window, where there was a perfect view on the street. Again, she turned around to the boy, as if to ask for his permission to sit there which made him smile and nod.

"Go on", he said and followed her. Fortunately, it was warm inside so they could pull off the layers of wool. Again, he couldn't keep himself from peeking at her when she unwrapped the massive scarf like a mummy. The only difference was that now, long straight black hair fell over her shoulders and he could actually see her properly. Before it was only her little face that already was enough for him to notice her beauty. As she climbed on the chair, he had to bite his lips so not to chuckle: Her feet hung freely around while his touched the floor.

Her lipstick left a stain on the edge of her mug. The metal ring around her thumb made little sounds as she unconsciously tapped against the clay while her eyes curiously observed the busy street.

"This is nice", were the first words in a while that broke the silence once again and made the girl look up at the other, a smile on her lips.

"It really is. Maybe waking up early isn't as bad as I thought in the end."

This caused him to chuckle, something she hadn't heard yet and she would lie if she denied how nice the sound of it was. With the spoon in his hand, he drew some patterns in the foam of his coffee, she watched him doing so in amusement.

"Usually I'm not a morning person either, but today I really wanted to be productive for once. The weekends are too short to just sleep until 2pm, then eat, then watch some series and then eat again before going to bed. In addition, I would just stay on my phone anyways. It actually is a pity that we let time pass us just like that, if you think about it. Don't you think so?", while he was talking neatly placed the spoon next to the mug again and looked at her.

"I felt the same, actually. And since I'm new in town, I forced myself to explore a bit of the city on a day like this", she smiled at him and then scratched her neck.

"Oh, you're not from here?", he asked right back, slowly getting curious about the girl's background. "Do you like it here so far? Are you a student?" Actually, he even had more questions for her but bit his inner cheeks at a certain point, so as not to ruin the chemistry between them. She noticed his sudden interest and had to giggle - something small but something that made his heart drop for the split of a second. She sipped on her mug before answering his questions in a soft voice.

"It's a big city, and I'm not really good in memorizing directions so that's that. But I'll manage the life here pretty soon. Well, I hope I will", she smiled and quickly peeked at him, who was already looking at her with high interest in practically everything that she told him. "And yes, philosophy."

"Ah I'm in chemistry", he remarked and smiled when he saw how her face lit up. He liked how she didn't seem as if she pretended to be polite, she actually seemed interested in what he was saying and so, a long conversation started to build. What started with plain questions about each other's studies or flats changed to their personal interests and that lead to more laughter and amused remarks.

"How can you not like marshmallows in hot chocolate? That's ridiculous and under no circumstances acceptable", he groaned.

"Oh come on, grow up. That's something children get from their parents so the sugar makes them motivated for the day", she couldn't stay serious when she saw his pouty expression after her statement. "Or…some people might just drink it for 'fun', better?"

"Thank you for the correction."

"It's still disgusting", she mumbled but it was enough for him to hear it and growl playfully, which made her laugh out loud. How long had they went on to talk about hot chocolate and other random thoughts? Ten minutes, twenty, an hour? It wasn't until the boy looked at his watch when he gasped and made her stop her waterfall of words. "Mh, how late is it?"

"Already 1pm", he chuckled and was as surprised yet amused as her. Did they just really spend over 3 hours in the café to talk about everything that came into their mind? Apparently they did.

"Wow, impressive", she giggled and looked up at the boy who was pushing some strands of black hair out of his face. For a second, her attention fell on his black, yet glistening, shining eyes. They seemed to be filled with so much warmth and light, maybe it was just the golden sunrays that hit his face from the side, making him shine a bit. He was indeed handsome. It wasn't something she only now realized. In the first moment that she laid eyes on him, she felt how mesmerizing he seemed to her.

"Are you staring at me?", he asked suddenly and ripped her out of her thoughts, making the heat come back to her cheeks in an instance. At that, she could just shrug and look down at her hands.

"I shouldn't be staring at you but I guess I can't help it."

She must have seen his big, proud smile in that moment. He had his eyes on her and admired her red cheeks once again. He was the reason why the heat came back to her face, it must have been.

"I guess you're falling for me already?"

"You wish."

"I do?", at that, she looked at him again, also with a smile on her lips.

"I don't know, do you?"

To say the least, he wasn't like other men that she had met before. Although they only knew each other for a couple of hours, he gave her a comfortable feeling, which not many people have achieved giving her right away, especially not in this short amount of time. It felt like they had known each other for years already. Strange, wasn't it? How someone could just bump into you and instantly make you feel…home? Even people you knew sometimes could never give you that feeling. How could that be? How was it possible for them to feel like that after just a whiplash? How much did it take until there was such a connection? How likely was it to meet someone like that? One under ten, under hundred or more under a million?

Those thoughts accompanied the both of them on their way out of the café, but individually. Again, as in the beginning, they were silently walking next to each other.

Hands dug in the pockets of her jeans,

His big, dark eyes looking around,

The boy in the grey coat

And the girl with the red cheeks.

#seventeen #kpop #kpop scenarios #seventeen fic #one shot #seventeen reactions #kpop request #kpop writing #svt #hoshi #kwon soonyoung #soonyoung #seventeen fluff #fluff oneshot #kpop reaction #seventeen reaction #seventeen hoshi

39 notes · View notes

justmickeyfornow · 5 years

Note

How do you sit down and write? Like do you write at tea/coffee shop to increase that anesthetics writer creativity? Or hole up under your blanket? I’ve been trying to write something for 2 months now without much progress. Any words of wisdom?

Boy, do I got a few tips for you!!

These tips are mostly if you’re writing a story (but some work both ways), so if you’re writing a paper or a dissertation or something with no progress, I’ll gladly do another post for that!

Step right up and welcome to Mickey’s....

Sit Yo Ass Down And Write Crash Course

1. Tip number uno:

Never sit your ass down and write.

Hear me out, hear me out. If you’re anything like me, then you’re probably a serial procrastinator who’s always in desperate need to just not do what needs to be done. It’s quite simple. All you gotta do is trick that damn beautiful but procrastinating brain of yours.

How? Well, I’m glad you asked!

I actually do my best writing standing in lines! Yup! Standing in lines has written some of the most intense scenes in PI. Hospital and airport waiting areas? Yup. Lotsa writing done there! Basically, if you find yourself waiting for something, pull up your phone and start writing. Half of PI was written on the subway, on buses, or in cars. I don’t know what it is, but my brain becomes hyperactive at that point. Like I have to finish writing this scene before reaching the front of the line or else I’ll make a fool of myself in front of the pretty barista lady.

For us procrastinators, we like to find any and every excuse not to work. But when you’re not actually working and your doing something else instead, our procrastinating brain doesn’t really identify the action as writing.

Believe it or not I never actually ‘sit down and write’. I only do so when I’m editing. During the editing process, I force myself to sit down on an actual chair, in front of an actual laptop/computer screen, use an actual keyboard, and edit! It’s brutal! Makes my procrastinating brain go antsy!

2. Tip number two:

If you get an idea, stop, drop, and type!

Don’t think about it. Don’t overthink the idea. Just jot it down on your phone. I don’t care if you were talking to someone and it would be rude to do so. Because as soon as you let go of that idea and say, “I’ll write it down later” then poof! it’s gone!

Repeat after me: STOP. DROP. AND TYPE.

3. Tip number trzy (Polish):

never write perfectly from the start.

Write in bullet form if you have to. Or just type the idea you have in your head. The more you pressure yourself to writing something perfectly, the more you’ll forget your idea. And this works with both story writing and academic writing as well.

Writing is a lot like drawing. You start with pencil, draw the basics - dialogue, single action, main thing that happens - then using your pencil, draw some of the details - the he said she said parts, turn the actions into full sentences with adjectives and description - then lastly add in the color - the punctuation, the indentations, and the splitting of paragraphs - and finally you have a picture.

Let me give you an example. This is a simple scene that I’m gonna write on the spot from the random phrase “There’s no space for my ice cream”. (I initially screen recorded a video for you, but then when I came to upload it, I unfortunately realized that Tumblr doesn’t allow videos on asks....)

So here you see just random dialogue. No actions even.

Then I added dialogue above it. So what you write first doesn’t necessarily mean what’s gonna come first.

More dialogue and some action.

Here I started fixing it up. Added indentations. Set a scene with Lena being in the other room and all.

And then Tada!

So, As you can see, I start with basic dialogue, just what I think they might say (it changes a lot btw). Then I add some actions. Then I go back up and write more dialogue before the dialogue I started with. Then I go ahead and indent a few lines here and there. I write the saids (Kara called. Lena answered. She said. Kara exclaimed. Kara whined). And then add in some scenery as well.

And like I said, this works for story writing as well as academic. I used to do the same thing when I needed to write a paper. I would start simple. No big words. Just somewhat of an idea of what I want to write and build up from there.

4. Tip number quatre (French):

Watch to learn.

This means that when you’re watching something, whether it’s a movie or a tv show, learn how the characters react. Their quirks, their nervous habits, everything and anything that makes them them. I can’t count how many times I had to rewind a movie because I was too busy noticing how the main character’s eyes would linger on the coffee table in front of her before she would say something painful. Or how if a character is shoved to the ground, which body part hits the ground first. Go through scenes of movies and tv shows and learn how people behave.

Movies and Tv-shows could also help you with how a character can cope a certain way or react in a certain way. For example, I was watching this show on Netflix called “Dead To Me” and the main character, her husband was killed in a hit-and-run by a speeding car. And part of her grief was that she would jot down the licence plate number of every car that was speeding and every car that had a bump at its front. That’s a detail of a specific form of grief. You could have your own character be obsessed with finding a cure to heart attacks if their SO died that way.

5. Tip number cinque (Italian):

Use real people as reference.

Sit in a coffee shop and creepily watch a woman sitting in the corner table. You gotta act all stalkerish here for it to work! Now pretend that it’s your character that’s sitting there. Write down the little things that the woman might do that you’ll probably never even think of if you would have written the scene at home. Like how the woman’s head jerks up when a car passes by and she watches it through the glass window. How her foot taps on the floor to the rhythm of her music. How she frowns when she spills some coffee on her sketch book. Everything. The silly faces she does to the toddler sitting in the other table.

Use real people. If you’re writing a girl who’s somewhat tomboyish, maybe go to a skateboard park or something. Go to a fancy restaurant if you’re writing a rich old lady. A library if you’re writing a college student.

6. Tip number lix (Somali):

Don’t write in order.

I cannot stress this enough. Write bottom to top. Middle to top. Middle to bottom. Write middle to bottom to middle again to top. Just don’t do it in order. Most of the time I write a paragraph thinking this is how I’m going to start my scene and it ends up being somewhere in the middle of all the chaos! Writing in order doesn’t make sense not even in essay writing. You never write an introduction first because you need a thesis. In order to have a thesis you need to know what the hell your body paragraphs are talking about. So, you start with your body. Not necessarily the first body paragraph either.

Write whatever comes to mind and figure out the order later. Chances are, it’ll change a billion times over before you commit to one. Writing in order gives your brain stress and in turn you’ll probably get a mental block. You’re too pressured to write the opening scene of the chapter that you forget what the hell happens in the end. And you lose that excitement, that flare you have to write the scenes that you had figured out in your head. Which sucks. Because it’s nearly impossible to get that back!

Also don’t worry about how you’ll combine everything in the end. That’s for the editing process, you’re not there yet. And from my experience, things tend to come together in the end on their own so you shouldn't worry too much.

7. Tip number seitsemän (Finnish):

Details, dude! They are everything!

(This one has nothing to do with being unable to write.... I realized this only AFTER I wrote it.....)

sometimes the details have nothing to do with the main characters, but writing them helps the reader feel like there’s a world there being lived beyond the characters he or she is reading about.

It paints a picture. And in writing, it’s very hard painting a picture with a white paper and some black ink. And that’s when details come in hand.

What I like to do is I like to zoom in on the scene I’m writing. Picture the scene in your head. Let’s take for example both characters are sitting on a bench in the park. Now pretend you have a pair of binoculars and zoom in on the scene. You’ll probably see a small ladybug that is sitting on the bench between them that one of the characters noticed but didn’t say anything because they know the other person is afraid of bugs. So they carefully pick it up without letting the other person know and they place it on the other side beside them. Or maybe you’ll realize there’s some carvings on the edge of the bench. A heart with an arrow and two letters on each end. Your character will probably wonder who the letters belong to, what were their names, and whether or not she and the other person would ever carve their own letters on a bench somewhere.

Details make a simple scene of two people sitting beside one another, into a whole picture of everything around them.

8. Tip number osm (Czech):

Do research!

Top weird things I had to do a ton of research about for my stories:

How to build a gas bomb that you could release through the ventilation system of a buildingWhat kind of metal are the batarangs made of?How to bring someone back from the dead?How much space do you need to build a rocket and is a football field enough?How high should a person’s IQ be for them to be considered ‘genius’ level of smartQuantum Mechanics and matter reconfiguration devicesintracortical microstimulation (whatever that is) and how to use it to create the sense of touch in amputee limbs

The list goes on, trust me!

But research gives you an idea of where to begin. Sometimes, you don’t even know what it is you’re writing and you get ideas from your research. Research gives your readers a realistic sense to your world. Even if it’s not real. Even if all you’ve written is fake. They don’t know that! But what they do know is that your character is hella smart and can create a device using intracortical microstimulation to help create the sense of touch in amputee limbs!

Fun fact: Watch "True Memoirs of an International Assasin”. It’s on Netflix. And it’s every writer’s nightmare. It explains just how much we writers would go for that small detail. It shows you the depths we will take to ensure we know every detail of what it is we’re writing about! Highly recommended for every writer out there!

9. Tip number dokuz (Turkish):

If you’re stuck, act it out!

Yup, you heard me! Get yo ass off that chair and start practicing for your next Oscar because you’r gonna act out the scene you wanna write. Say your character just entered her house and called out to their spouse without a response. Go inside your own house and start jotting down the details of what you see. Your character will probably notice the lack of shoes. How the kitchen light isn’t turned on. Or the hum of the dishwasher not present. No keys in the bowl. All small things that they slowly realize before actually realizing that no one was home.

Acting also gives you ideas on how someone would react. Walk into your own house and imagine finding out you’ve been robbed. All your stuff is everywhere. Now, realistically - and I mean really really realistically - you wouldn’t freak out. At least not physically on the outside. You wouldn’t start jumping and shouting and go looking in your room if your cash is gone.

Because your brain needs time to process. You would have questions. Lots of them. Is the thief still here? Should I call the police? No, what if this is a prank. Is this a prank? Who would prank me like this? Your eyes would go around the room, noting down all the details there. The broken glass, the opened drawers, the thrown pillows. Use your own surroundings to imagine what a robbed place would look like.

10. Tip number umi (Hawaiian):

Always remember, each character is different.

(Realized this one also has nothing to do with being stuck and not being able to write and more to do with character writing... I think I went off topic....)

I always find stories where all the characters are practically written the same way. The dialogue is really generic. Because the writer isn’t really imagining as each character being a separate entity. They’re all characters of a story to them. The way one character talks is often if not always never the same way another character talks. AND a certain character will talk differently depending on who they’re talking with.

Give each of your characters certain attributes or quirks that they add to their dialogue. Like how the more sophisticated one chooses to say ‘darling’ instead of ‘babe’ or how one of them speaks in short and concise sentences having served time in the army and taught that each word counts. I know this tip isn’t that important, but I’ve seen a lot of writers do this mistake where all the dialogue is the same. And that’s because they’re trying so hard to move the story along that they forget that they need time for the characters to react and process differently.

Similarly, make sure that you know that each character reacts differently. I’ve fallen into this mistake several times actually to be honest. This one time I wrote a whole scene where I had Lena be super happy about something (can’t remember what it was) with someone she wasn’t too close with and then I remembered that she’s more reserved than Kara. She less trusting so she rarely shows her genuine side to others unless she knows them to be worthy or good. She’s not too open so she wouldn’t show her happiness by jumping around and screaming with joy. Whereas Kara! Oh, Kara! She would hug the mailman when she would be happy! And she’s probably best friends with her pizza delivery guy! Had to do multiple rewrites whenever I would do that mistake.

11. Tip number vienuolika (Lithuanian):

Drink Green Tea.

Repeat after me: Drink. Green. Tea.

No explanation necessary. Tea is life.

#Sorry this got so long #I tried putting it under keep reading but it didn't work #Oh well #Writingng advice #Ask #Mickey answers #Writing tips #Writing #Fanfiction

60 notes · View notes