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itstheimpossibledream · 3 years

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Only A Play-Part 2

Word Count:3053

Pairing : AU Henry & FemBlack! Reader

Warning:Angst, soon to come Smut

Summary: Y/n and Henry still trying to navigate their mutual attraction but, their job is making it harder to deny.The next chapter is already written, there’s sex in it I swear.

"So today I want you guys to focus on working with Dana" Steve began

"She's our resident intimacy coordinator, I've already gone over the scene with her and she's going to make sure it goes over as smooth as possible. We're going to get her assistance a couple times during this process but today we're going to empty out the studio so have fun, play and get to know eachother. Today is just a day for you two to find some comfortable physicality with eachother." Stephen winks at you and then begins ushering tech and the few ensemble members out of the room. Friend or not, anyone attracted to men could not deny that Mr. Cavill was absolutley gorgeous, as wasted as it may be. In all honesty you hadn't spoken much aside from that snowy day outside the studio. He did begin to bring coffee and Kal to rehearsals and you tended to find the snuggly, bear of a dog always next to you when you were waiting for a cue but, it wasn't as though the two of you had had a heart-to-heart and resolved any of these unspoken differences. And as far as the scene was concerned your heart was doing backflips unable to tell which action would come more naturally, to kiss him or to hit him.

"So I'm seeing a lot of passion here! O !Please remove your shoes for today's lesson." Dana cuts in breaking the silence. Both of you look down at the wood paneled floor. Now was the time where you really had to work, you think to yourself while slowly slipping out of your shoes.

“Unfortunately Dana, “ Henry begins, immediately charming the brakes off of her.

“ At this point of the play I believe her character is quite conflicted, as a woman she obviously wants to give in to him but, at the same time she knows she'll be letting down her family and he will too, they'll live a life with no family outside of the one they create for themsevles. It's quite powerful.But, a tough emotional point to bring oneself to."

"That may be how Christopher sees it -" you snap referring to his character. You are suddenly aware that you sound way more upset then you had intended to. "She doesn't want have sex with him because if she does she's giving up more than him,she always has.That's the whole story of their relationship. " you say, allowing your words to be the dam between the flood of frustration you want to direct his way.

"So as you said we both have a lot of emotions here, we need to work on honing them into something that could potentially work itself into this explosion of passion okay?" Dana jumped excitedly. She looks exactly like what you would have expected from an intimacy coordinator.She wore a long moo-moo like dress and chunky amber jewelry.She smelled of a ton of weed, not as though you were really complaining but, it all added to the aesthetic that had washed into the room on her heels as she had entered.

"I want to begin with an exercise- Mr.Cavill I know you've done scenes like this before so please work with me if I touch on some things you've already heard." she says leaning over and squeezing his forearm while winking. Great even the sex scene coordinator thought he was hot.

" I'm going to give you the space to choose but I want you both to just slowly go through the scene and when you hit a line that feels acceptable you remove an item of clothing. On stage you've both agreed to full nudity but today I just want to push you to do what feels comfortable!" Quietly you both moved to the opposite ends of the room, hitting your marks to begin the scene. You said your first few lines focusing on washing the dishes, the studio didn't have running water so it ended up being more like mime washing dishes. You were so much more professional than you were proving to be in this moment but, the second Henry removed his shirt you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. On his first line?Really? That was so like him ,so pompous. And even more upsetting how ridiculously attractive he was. God was his body sculpted from marble? Nothing but pure muscle rippling evenly, he seemed somehow tanned, despite the blistering New York winter. You focused hitting your next line perfectly ,completely unphased by his topless body.With the following delivery you shrug out of your jacket, revealing your tank top. Thank christ you had expected to have a hook-up with a bartender after today's rehearsal. You weren't in full lingerie but, you were definitely in a matching set. A matching set that happened to make your ass look great. You held that in your back pocket, knowing you had every right to parade about, naked in the same room as someone who was a shoe-in to be named 'World's Sexiest Man'. You went for it, pulling off your tank top with your next line. This is when your blocking got physical. You had run this scene before but, running it scantily clad was an entirely different matter. You were supposed to straddle him. That seemed simple enough. You stood before him, gingerly sliding one knee up onto the couch and then swinging another to the other side of him.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, low and slow. You hated how during the scenes he actually had moments of completely brilliant acting where you could see an amazing talent. Then, you felt his hand on your knee. It was absurdly large and warm, so warm. You froze. You didn't want to do it but, you froze.Your eyes flitted all over the room, desperately looking for a way out , to end the scene. You feel his hand move up your thigh, it's the blocking, he's just doing his job, you remind yourself. But, something in you makes you afraid of his touch. You look into his eyes and you can tell he's noticed you shrinking under his touch. He clears his throat and drops character.Changing his intention toward Dana.

"I'm sorry can we start over? I completely forgot my line." he smiled at her.

"Sure! That was really great I think just focus a bit more on your intention. It's funny I think you guys had more sexual tension at the start of the rehearsal than at the top of the scene!" she laughed to herself. "Okay, let's take a step back, relax , stand up ! Stand up!" she says, jumping to her feet. The two of you peeled yourself apart from each other and you found yourself looking down at your perfectly perky breasts feeling more insignificant than ever. You could feel your face heating up by his move to take the blame for the scene. It was much more gentlemanly than you were expecting from him.

"How about we take a break and come back in twenty? She suggested after a few warm-ups of jumping around and saying self -assuring mantras out-loud. After half a bottle of water, redressing, boring stretches and pretending to avoid eye-contact with Henry your rehearsal was finally up.

“ Oookay guys good stuff. Goooood stuff ! So for the weekend tomorrow I know Stephen had you signed up for a few meet and greets and publicity shoots but, I actually think that if you guys could set aside the time that you do spend together to get physically comfortable it could do a lot for your onstage comfortability. Hand holding, general petting or stroking, you may even want to try a light sitting on the lap, just anything really to get you more used to one another. This relationship needs to seem as effortless and fluid as possible.” She smiled “ also note that my number is free for 24/7 communication so if something comes up for you emotionally in this work feel free to get in contact with me, even if it's just to chat my door is always open!" she beams,collecting her water bottle and other assorted scripts she was reading through at the beginning of the rehearsal.

Stephen reenters and, he and Dana go to the corner of the room to talk.

You work your back pack onto your shoulder and begin to head for the door.

"Wait up!" Henry calls out from behind you. You whirl around and almost bump into him. His sweatshirt is baggy but unzipped enough that you can see the small tufts of hair playing at the tops of his chest, his baseball cap pulled way down over his forehead. Those blue eyes shined bright from the shade under that baseball cap.

"What are your plans for tonight ?" he asked, slightly exaggerating his breathing from the light jog across the room. You searched the room awkwardly,looking for an out. What is it with him? Why did he think, especially after the last time the two of you had spent alone together, that you would ever want to be included in his plans for the night.

"Perfect Idea!" Stephen exclaims from across the room. "You guys use tonight to bond as much as possible before tomorrow afternoon's interview session yeah?"

"Uhhhh sure ." You agree, not wanting to seem like the town buzz-kill. You turn shrugging towards Henry. He smiles, seeming almost relieved that you agreed without putting up a fight, as Steve moves to rejoin Dana in the back

"So uhhh my place or yours?" he asks in a half hearted joke.

"Uhhh" you definitely don't want him at your place, where there is laundry strewn all over the apartment .

"I mean I have to feed my dog and run some errands anyway so my apartment would be ideal."

"O great! Okay yeah , let's do that then." you pushed on the door and headed for the elevator, the ride down to the lobby of the rehearsal studios was entirely silent, filled with awkward shuffling and avoided eye contact. Only punctuated by a short uber black ride in silence to an apartment on the upper east side. Ofcourse he lived on the upper east side.The doorman was polite as you followed behind him, clearly him bringing strange women up to his apartment was not entirely unheard of. Once in the room, you asked where to sit your bag down, your afternoon ritual usually included a trip to the gym, that is what had become your me -time since college. He motioned you to his guest room, in which you were shocked,contained a shower, granted the entire tiny room was a shower but, being a guest in New York with your own bathroom was definitely not an everyday thing. Especially, for a little black girl from the south.

"Is it okay if I shower before we grab dinner?" you ask.

"Oh! You wanted to grab dinner?I was just going to order chinese."

"That's fine! " you ungracefully exclaimed from the other room.Shit. Hopefully he didn't think you really meant grab dinner like on a date.

"Do you have a special order?"he asked, appearing in the doorway. You turned around slightly alarmed that his voice had gotten that much closer.

"I love everything!" you smile, he looked down at the floor nervously. "but shrimp lomein is my favorite." you say unzipping your jacket and placing it on the bed, your bra was working overtime holding you up and you made a mental note to order another one exactly like it. He cleared his throat and there was a second of silence. You could feel his eyes slowly darting around the room trying not to look at your chest. As actors, especially ones who have to do nude scenes together you didn't think it would be a big deal to him that you were getting ready to shower. You had mentioned on the elevator earlier that you had wanted a shower. Taking off your jacket just seemed like the right next step, nothing to feel weird over.

"Sounds Good!" he exclaims, finally showing you his full smile, for the first time since the rehearsal process had started. God he was a sight, he had removed his hat and you noticed how perfectly his hair curled onto his forhead.It was adhered by sweat but, not the weird homecoming- football helmet sweat, you get from your highschool crush. This was a grown-man glistening infront of you. It sounded ridiculous, the situation itself was ridiculous,why was he even sweating ?

"Sorry-I uh- I didn't know you were showering right now. We can talk about it later if you-"

"It's fine" you say, stepping in and laying a hand on his forearm.His eyes shot down to your hand then immediately back to your eyes, sure to avoid seeming like he was staring at your breasts. He clears his throat again and you can smell the faint cologne on him as you watch his adams apple bob. The air in the room changes and you feel him shift away from you. You mumble a thanks for the dinner as you hear him close the door between you.

Your shower was perfectly steamy and warm, much unlike your brooklyn apartment that had charm and character but, a much worse hot water heater. As you washed away the dirt from the day you tried not to think of Henry, of what he must think of you for absolutely chewing him out just a few short weeks ago. He seemed to have gotten over it but, at the same time perhaps he was just trying to be the better person. As much as you hated to admit it he had completely accepted your scathing critique and was now treating you like the highest paying guest at a five-star resort. You turned down the hot water, basking in the last bit of steam and enjoying the first true silence of your day. Reaching an arm up, you grab a towel, wrapping it around your body. You stretched out for another towel that you had laid across the sink, somehow your legs completely slipped from under you and you crashed to the floor,grabbing the sink for leverage. Really all you did was knock over some toiletries that you had put on the sink earlier and you could feel your cheeks heating up. It was weird to be embarrassed in a room by yourself but, you knew he must've heard something. You sat on the floor, allowing your chin to rest on the top of your knees. You desperately needed a moment to breathe. Life had been so stressful lately, and you possibly had let off a bit too much steam on him. He was actually a nice guy, sure the accessible information on him didn't make him look amazing but when it came down to it once you explained how you felt about him he had worked so hard to seem normal and accessible. For whatever reason he seemed to respect your opinion as an artist. The knock at the door kept you from becoming completely lost in your thoughts. It knocked again and you could hear his feet shuffle on the hard wood outside of the door, the nails of the large dog clicking the floor next to him.

"You okay in there?" It seemed earnest enough.

"Yeah!" you called back "My mind has really been somewhere else lately, I just umm lost my footing- that's all."

"Okay well let me know if you need anything." It was cheery but helpful. Once you heard him close the door to your room you got up and got dressed as quickly as you could, fumbling to get sweatpants on without accident. Today was definitely not your most agile day. You finally let your hair down and put on just the smallest amount of mascara to make your eyes pop.It was an effortlessly hot look that had worked for you for years, especially in college. You closed the door behind you and gently padded your way to the kitchen. The apartment was cozy, Kal was curled up on a rug in the corner of the room while Henry portioned the food onto pristine white plates. You noticed the baseball cap was back on and at least thanked god for giving you that small assistance in removing the temptation to touch him by running your fingers through his hair.

"So you order takeout but refuse to eat it out of the container?"you asked jokingly as he whirled around from the counter.That smile appeared on his face again and you knew you were putty in his hands,The way he filled out his navy blue t-shirt was unbelievable.

"It's less calories this way." he winked. Thank god he had a sense of humor.You returned his smile now sitting in the chair closest to the kitchen. The conversation veered from workout routines, to body image stress as a performer and then back to work. You found yourself sucking a noodle wishing he'd bring up something else. You absolutely could not do a night of niceties and small talk at this point in your life but, you also weren't ballsy enough to walk right up to him and tell him you wanted him.

"Y/N?"he asked

"Yeah?" you jumped being pulled once again from you daydream

"Do you wanna run lines or watch tv or something?"he asked shyly

"Yeah I mean -we can run lines if you want I just thought we were supposed to bond by talking or something." you laughed trying to take the edge off the awkwardness of the scenario.

"Well what do you want to talk about ?' he asked, leaning back in his seat, baseball cap over his eyebrows.His jawline was so sharp it could cut ice, it dawned on you that he was actually much too goodlooking for his own good.

You picked up a fortune cookie at the center of the table and tossed it to him.

"Read me your fortune."you smiled seductively. He raised his eyebrows at you but, something must have convinced him because he simply shook his head and said.

"Okay."

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spicyfloaty · 4 years

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Give & Take | Chapter 1

pairing: kacchako

genre: slowburn/fluff

words: 1.5k

summary: Ochako's grades are slipping. Bakugo is dangerously nearing suspension, or worse, expulsion. A certain twist of fate pairs them together for tutoring sessions. He teaches her math. She keeps him from getting suspended. A simple exchange, but what if this only brings them closer than necessary?

note: i accidentally deleted my tumblr account and now im gonna post these all over again god fucking dammit sdkjfhkjhkfd

header credits: @alexbenedetto

[READ ON AO3]

Chapter One: Hesitation and Acceptance

“I don’t think you need anyone telling you what you most likely already know, but you’re failing almost all of your classes, Uraraka.”

Ochako already had an inkling as to what this sudden meeting was for, but the news still hits her as hard as it would if she were hearing it the first time. She was aware of how fast her grades had been slipping these past few weeks, but she couldn’t really do much about it since she already had her part time job to worry about, let alone the extra training she had been doing to make up for the classes she had been missing because of said part time job. She barely even had any more time to visit her parents to give them the paycheck she just got that month, how is she going to find the time, hell, the energy, to cram 2 weeks-worth of homework in one night?

Her eyes drop to her feet, “I know, Mr. Aizawa, it’s just that I can hardly fit anything into my schedule anymore.” She knows this wasn’t an excuse her professor would accept that easily, she just knows. She grips the fabric of her skirt as her guts sinks lower and lower, shame and disappointment weighing on her like a ton of bricks. A few seconds pass and she hears Aizawa sigh. She looks up to see a piece of paper being slid across the table, “I heard about your father’s injury. Balancing your responsibilities here at UA and the responsibilities you have at home isn’t an easy thing to do, but I thought of a schedule that might lighten the load.”

Ochako scans the schedule her teacher had made for her, tears threatening to spill from her eyes upon realizing that he was right, it did lighten the load. Her attention then zeroes in on the text written beside Thursday and Friday, Tutoring Session, but what catches her off guard was the name directly below it.

Bakugo Katsuki.

“I see you already noticed the cost that comes with this proposition,” Ochako didn’t even realize her mouth was open until Mr. Aizawa pointed his pen at it. Bakugo? Is he seriously going to have Bakugo Katsuki, the boy with the fuse as short as the width of a hair, the boy whose every waking moment was dedicated to being angry at absolutely nothing, tutor her, someone he’s barely spoken more than 10 words to, most of all someone who’s friends with the apparent center of all his rage. Well, the friends part was still debatable.

“You’re joking—” It was only until her palm flew straight to her mouth when she realized that she already spoke her mind.

“Does it look like I’m joking?” Mr. Aizawa asks pointedly. “I already made arrangements with the rest of your teachers to accommodate for the time you will be spending on your part time job, you will be having at least 4 hours of tutoring a week with Bakugo on Thursdays and Fridays to make up for it.”

Ochako was still staring at her new schedule, as if looking at it any longer would change anything about it. Her thoughts began to race, desperately thinking of some kind of alternative she could offer, “What about Momo?” She looks up at Aizawa only to find his gaze locked on his computer screen. He clicks a few keys, “She already has her hands full with Kaminari, Mina, and Jirou.”

Ochako takes a deep breath and thinks harder, “Iida?” Aizawa presses a few more keys and takes a sip out of his coffee mug, “He’s already helping Momo out with those three.”

She looks away, eyes darting to anywhere but the god forsaken schedule in front of her hoping for another idea to fly by her mind before it’s too late. Another name pops in her head, she wouldn’t even think about considering being alone with him again given their history and the awkwardness that followed it, but these were desperate times and it called for desperate measures.

”What about…Midoriya?” This time, Aizawa faces her, a part of her hoped that it was because she had given him an option he hasn’t considered yet, but to her dismay, she was wrong.

“Yes, Midoriya was my first choice while putting all of this together, but after checking with All Might, he said that it would “interfere” with Midoriya’s schedule.” Aizawa explains with a hint of annoyance. Ochako should have known this, she should know more than anyone else that Deku’s time had been spent more and more with training lately.

Ochako felt defeated, she couldn’t think of anything else to say to try and convince her teacher that she would do anything else except being taught by Bakugo. It’s not like she was scared of him or anything, sure, she didn’t want to have a one on one session with someone who would flip the table if she forgot to carry the one, but the truth is that she admired him almost as much as she did Deku. It was a no-brainer to anyone that as hot headed as Bakugo might be (is), he is consistently one of Class 2A’s, if not UA’s, top performing students. The main reason she was against this unfortunate match up was because she's a hundred percent certain that Bakugo wouldn’t consent to it.

“Is Bakugo okay with this?” She asks, Aizawa’s gaze shifts to the back of the office, she follows and instantly gets her answer. She didn’t notice it when she first came in, but there were prominent scorch marks splashed across the wall with soot dusting the floor beneath it. If someone were to just pass by without giving it a second glance, it would almost look like shadows. Judging by how fresh it looked, she assumed that Bakugo’s talk with Aizawa wasn’t long before hers. It’s either that or her professor was simply too lazy to clean it off.

“He obviously had more…opinions regarding this, but after further…discussion, it was mutually decided that this would be the best option that would benefit the both of you.”

Both of us? Just how could Bakugo possibly benefit from tutoring her?

“No one gets to stay at UA with above average marks alone.” Aizawa adds. Turns out Bakugo was dangerously nearing suspension because of his recent behavior, sending 2 2C students to the infirmary would be the highlight of said behavior, Ochako still remembered that day as if it were yesterday. How could she not? She was the first one from their class to walk by and see the altercation, obscured by a growing crowd egging on the fight. She never found out what it is Bakugo was yelling about, but she knew enough cuss words to decode part of a sentence or two, but it wasn't what he was saying that stuck with her though, it was the way he looked. She had always seen him angry on a daily basis to know what he looked like upset, but as he was being dragged away, she could have sworn that for a split second, she saw his expression slip from one of anger to that of sadness.

"Simply put, Bakugo's conduct, despite his grades being top notch, could very much end up being the cause of his expulsion."

Aizawa offered Bakugo a way to somehow salvage his conduct grade by pairing him with a struggling classmate in order to show the Administration Board that he was displaying compassion and camaraderie. Aizawa saw this as an opportunity to hit two birds with one stone.

If only one of the birds didn’t know how to hit back, harder.

After explaining, he asks her once more, not like she had much of a choice, if she was on board with the plan. Her mind drifts to an image of Bakugo suspended, spending the week alone in the dorms while everyone else spends it in their classes. Ochako wasn’t blind for her to not notice the expression Bakugo wore, almost the same kind as the one she remembered from the fight, whenever she saw him during the mornings when he and Deku were placed under house arrest last year. They haven’t spoken to each other that much, if you can count tch and outta the way, round face as conversations, but she knew that if there was anyone who genuinely wanted to be in class, as much as he doesn’t care to make it obvious, it was Bakugo. Her heart ached at the thought of Bakugo missing out on classes and training when the first thing about him was his unrelenting drive to be the best in all of them.

With terrible timing, another idea floats inside her head, but Ochako already knew what her answer was. She knew that she can easily offer to take supplementary classes with one of their teachers instead, but she realized that maybe Bakugo needed this more than she did.

Which is why she agrees.

#kacchako #kacchako fic #kacchako fanfiction #kacchako fluff #kacchako slowburn #ao3 #ao3 kacchako #bakuraka #kacchako week #bakuraka week #kacchako week 2020 #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugo x uraraka #mha ochako #urakara ochako #bnha #mha #bnha fanfiction

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fleckcmscott · 4 years

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Watch What Happens - Chapter 7

Chapter links: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Summary: Arthur, an aspiring comedian, has struggled to find normalcy and compassion his entire life. Y/N, a hard-working paralegal and transplant to Gotham, has just been put on a case for the Wayne Foundation. When they meet, unexpected sparks fly.

Chapter warning: Adult Situation, Swearing

Words: 1,927

When Arthur arrived back home, it was nearly seven. He’d gone to Pogo’s, again, to try to get a spot to perform. No money was coming in and he was desperate for a chance. With a sigh, the manager had told him about an upcoming open-mic night for new comics next Tuesday. That gave him almost a week to perfect his set. He hadn’t hesitated when he signed up. Until then, he’d continue to practice his facial expressions and punchline timing in his bathroom mirror.

Penny still didn’t know about his firing from HaHa’s - he didn’t want her worrying. In the morning he’d leave the apartment and search for work a couple of hours, going from business to shop to anywhere. He hadn’t had any success. There weren’t a lot of opportunities for an uneducated clown with an unstable employment history, even if he had a work ethic.

Luckily, he never had to be out too long to hide his unemployment from her. Penny didn’t pay much attention to the exact times he was around and rarely asked questions. As long as he was there to check the mail, get meals, keep her company for a few minutes, and watch Murray Franklin, she didn’t pry. At times he wished she would, but her lack of meaningful attention was currently convenient.

It also meant he didn’t have to tell her that his therapy appointments and medication access had been stopped due to budget cuts. That had been a blow. He didn’t understand how something he’d been court ordered to participate in could be taken away. The appointments weren’t particularly helpful, he thought. But they were something on his calendar, and he hadn’t missed a single one. He’d shifted his work schedule around, missed out on good gigs to get to them. He’d written in that damn journal, the one thing that seemed to do him some good, every day. At least he could continue with that.

Fuck. And to be told right after the first date in his life…

He smiled softly, thinking about Y/N. If the day had ended after their pie and stroll together, it would have been perfect enough to frame. She’d asked him about his condition, seemed to be curious about it in a caring way. At first, he was uncomfortable talking about it. Normally, his involuntary laughter only came up when he was apologizing for it. But she had discussed his affliction in a way that stopped him, at least temporarily, from feeling like a freak. And the way she’d caressed his hand at the diner when she’d noticed his discomfort… It had been wonderful to be touched by someone other than his mother.

As they’d walked together, their steps in sync, he longed to put his arm around her waist. To feel the warmth of her body against his side, turn his face into her hair and kiss her head, the way he’d seen in films. And, if he did that, every person they passed would know that she was with him. This city that he hated, its thoughtless inhabitants, would know this beautiful, accomplished woman had chosen to spend her time with Arthur Fleck.

He would never comprehend that choice. But he was grateful for it.

When she had given him a pen and paper to write his address and number, it took him a moment to gather himself enough to jot it down. He hoped he’d been able to keep the look of shock off his face. To his surprise, Y/N had called that night to thank him for taking her out. She’d given him her home number, too, which he’d written on a paper taped to the wall next to the phone, and on a paper that he’d put in his wallet, and in his notebook. The conversation had been short, sweet, and she’d asked if she could call the next night.

Christ, she had to ask? He’d finally have something to look forward to after watching television with his mother.

Since then, they’d spoken for at least a minute or two each night, though their conversations had gotten a little longer with every call. Admittedly, Y/N called him most of the time. He’d been confident enough to reach out twice, though, and he felt good about that. He could tell she’d been pleased, too.

During every conversation, Y/N asked him to tell her a joke. Arthur happily obliged. Her gentle groans and chuckles made him grin, and caused a tight feeling in his chest. More than once, he’d pinched himself to make sure he hadn’t made her up - afterward, she was always still there.

The facts he’d learned about her went straight into his journal, so he could reread them multiple times a day. She recently started work on a case involving the Wayne Foundation. (”Will I ever stop heering that name?”) She lived in Burnley. (”Three train stops or a 40 minut walk away!”) She’d been divorced for over ten years, but it had been mutual, so, in her words, “no baggage there.” That last one made him painfully aware of his own inexperience.

When she pressed him to talk about himself, it was hard to know what to say. He couldn’t tell her he was on a ton of medications, or that he’d been in Arkham. She’d already claimed to have accepted his laugh - he wasn’t going to press his luck this soon.

No one besides doctors and counselors, and occasionally Gary, usually wanted to hear anything about him. And he thought he’d covered everything he didn’t have to hide in the diner. “There isn’t much to tell,” he’d breathed.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to see you again, Mr. Fleck.” Her voice had dropped conspiratorially. “Can you come by for dinner Friday night? Around seven? I know it’s short notice, but it would be great if you could.”

Oh my god.

His pulse sped up. He pressed his palm against his chest. “Yes. Yes, I think I can. I can.” He wrote her address down shakily, as if he was afraid the pen would stop working.

“Great. I can’t wait to see you, Arthur.”

After he’d hung up the phone, he’d been so thrilled he did a little two-step. Then he went into the bathroom, the only room that would lock and guarantee him a moment’s peace, and turned on the shower. He’d stepped in, taken his erection in his hand, and stroked and tugged himself to completion. Remembering her voice, imagining it was her hand on him, his mouth on her lips, on her neck, between her thighs. The water muffled his cries as he leaned against the wall with his arm.

Now, Thursday evening, Arthur was mopping the kitchen floor, a cigarette hanging from his lips. The radio was on, playing Lawrence Welk, and he swayed to the music. He hummed softly, his movements becoming more of a dance as his thoughts turned to tomorrow night. She’d be cooking for them, for him. Even though he was never hungry, he’d do his best to enjoy whatever she made. He wondered what her apartment would be like, sure it would be as warm as she was. Would there be candles? Did the wallpaper have flowers on it? Should he bring something?

He brought the mop handle up closer and led it around like a partner, feeling a little foolish but also enjoying himself. He closed his eyes. “What, Y/N?” If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel her against him. “You want me to do what?” Chuckling, he shook his head. “You don’t mean that, you-”

The door buzzer broke him out of his fantasy. Who the hell would be coming over now? Furrowing his brow, he straightened and leaned the mop against the counter. He smoothed his hair back, plucked the cigarette from his mouth, and opened the door.

Gary stood there, a small smile on his face. “Hey, Arthur. How’s it going?”

“Gary, hi.” Arthur had never had a co-worker over before. He didn’t mind the intrusion, though. “What are you doing here?”

Gary lifted his arm and held out a small plastic bag. “You forgot to take these when you left.”

Arthur took the bag and looked inside it. A couple of pots of blue and red makeup were in it, as well as brushes he’d left on the vanity at HaHa’s. He nodded at the thoughtful gesture. “Thanks.” He motioned towards the apartment with his left hand. “Do you want to come in?”

Gary looked surprised, but stepped forward. “For a minute, yeah.”

“Happy, who’s that at the door?” Penny’s voice came from the bedroom.

Arthur closed the door, then turned and called back to her. “No one, mom. They had the wrong apartment.” He looked down at Gary apologetically. “My mother…”

“It’s okay.” Gary put his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the wall. “So…have you got a new gig yet?”

It felt strange to Arthur to have a conversation with Gary in his own entranceway while towering over him. As there were no chairs nearby, Arthur moved to sit next to him on the floor. “Not yet. I’ve been writing a lot though. Five jokes in a week. Actually,” he brightened, “I’ve got a show on Tuesday. It’s not paying but it’s a start.”

“That’s great,” Gary said.

“Yeah.” There was a long pause, then. Arthur looked at Gary as he took a drag off his cigarette. “And I… I have a date tomorrow night.” He hoped he hadn’t crossed a line. They hadn’t been close, but Gary had never made fun of him. He had merely needed to tell someone besides Penny.

Gary looked genuinely happy for him. “Who is she?”

It was strange but good to talk about Y/N to someone. “Her name’s Y/N. She’s pretty.” Even though he still didn’t understand what she did for work, he said it with pride. “She’s a paralegal.” He laughed softly. “It’s crazy. I met her at a grocery store. Now I’m going over for dinner.” A sigh escaped him, his eyebrows lifting as insecurity filled him. “She’s important to me. And I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Gary pursed his lips. “Did she invite you over for dinner or dinner?”

Arthur blinked at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“How long have you known each other?” Gary asked.

Arthur did a quick count of the days in his head, then shrugged. “Three weeks?”

Nodding, Gary said, “Hm. Just be a gentleman. Don’t try too hard. And be ready in case she wants dessert.”

Arthur caught his meaning then and felt himself blush. A short chuckle escaped him as his hand went to his forehead. He made a mental note to go through all his Murray Franklin tapes and re-watch every Dr. Sally segment he could find.

Gary straightened then. “Well, I gotta go. It was good seeing you,” he said.

Arthur pushed himself off the floor. “Sure.” He reached for the doorknob, thinking a moment before opening the door. “Gary, you were the only one at HaHa’s that was nice to me. Thanks.”

Gary took a step back through the door frame, a small grin on his face. “Take care, Arthur.”

“You, too.” Arthur started to close the door as Gary started down the corridor, but thought better of it and stuck his head out into the hallway. “Gary?”

Gary turned around. “Yeah?”

Arthur paused, then went for it. “You can tell Randall I have a date. If you want.”

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve@clowndaddyfleck @stephieraptorr @rommies

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x ofc #arthur fleck x female reader #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

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golbrocklovely · 4 years

Text

the chosen daughter // colby brock - chapter eight

A/N: alrighty yall. here’s the next chapter! hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think of this. i’d love to hear what you got to say. also let me know if you want to be added to the taglist. have a good one yall, and i’ll see you later :)

story description

taglist: @far-to-many-bands , @idfk-tbh-oops , @muted-mayham , @ughwhyislifesohard , @justtanerd , @ashyoungxblood , @cmburgos

trigger warning: cursing, blood drinking, mentions of: sexual language, supernatural powers, needles, some violence

word count: 1822

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caleb sank his teeth back into my skin, my eyes tearing up from the pain. He gulped down once, shoving me forward into the wall suddenly. I felt drained, like I had to fight to keep my eyes open and my body upright.

If I pass out, I'm done for.

I slowly turned to him, his body slumping against the couch. Caleb groaned in pleasure. "God, I don’t know what your blood is doing to me... but I feel so fucking good!"

He licked his fingers, my blood soaking them. I forced down vomit that rose into my throat. Glancing down at my wrist, I realized the bracelet Colby gave me. I clicked it twice, leaning my back against the wall.

Sam, Jake, and Kevin are all downstairs. They'll know I'm in trouble. Colby... God knows where he is.

Somebody will come... right?

I brought my focus back onto Caleb. I wasn't sure what was happening to him. How was he able to use his powers? Was he faking it before?

Was it my blood?

I thought about fighting him off, getting a stake from the kitchen. I stared at him; he was still caught up in his own world, sucking his fingers covered in my blood. I stumbled towards the kitchen. Caleb stood up, blocking my way. He smiled brightly, grabbing my arms and pushing me into the corner, far away from the kitchen and the front door.

"Fuck... All I can think about is draining you right here and now." He bit his lip, looking at me like I was a meal.

"If you do that... you won’t feel what you’re feeling anymore. All my blood will be gone and you won’t be able to use your power. You want powers, don't you?" I pleaded, trying to catch my breath.

"You’re right," He continued. "But why don’t you let me have another taste? Please? I promise to be good."

I glared at him, not wanting to speak. He stepped closer to me. "Wait, I don’t have to ask now."

His aura appeared, it waved slightly as he gazed into my eyes. "You’re gonna give me your blood, but you won’t remember."

"As if you won’t take it anyway." I hissed.

Caleb backed up slightly, his mouth gaped open as his aura disappeared. "How are you not under my spell? I have powers now and they won’t even work against you?! Maybe I need more of your blood."

"Stop! Don't fucking touch me!" I exclaimed as he stepped closer.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a figure creeping towards Caleb.

Caleb smirked. "There's no point in resisting-"

A needle was slammed into Caleb's neck, the clear liquid injected into his body. At the end of the needle rested Sam's hand. Caleb turned to see Sam, reaching out to grab him, but he collapsed; out cold.

My body almost fell to the floor, finally relaxing. Sam wrapped his arm around me quickly, catching me.

"A pineapple Angel face, huh?"

~ \ / \ / ~

After Caleb was knocked out by a liquid dose of the Angelica flower, everyone came up to the apartment. They knew that when he awoke, he would be confused and possibly angry. Colby and Kevin worked on getting my blood out of his system by pumping him full of vampire blood, which would counteract mine. They gave him human blood to speed up the healing from the vile I smashed onto his face.

That had been two hours ago. Caleb still hadn’t woken up yet.

Mike sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I still don't understand. Are you sure he had an aura?”

"Yes. 100%. He tried to use his powers at the club tonight, but nothing showed up then. But the moment he got my blood into his system, his aura was there, and he was able to use his powers. Ask Jake. He knows." I informed.

"Jake said he barely remembers anything. All of his memories of tonight are fuzzy." Mike stated.

"Maybe that's Caleb's power... confusion." I trailed off, looking at the floor.

"Even so, he shouldn't have any. He's too new to have any. Why did your blood give him powers, or at least speed up the process of getting his?" Mike replied.

"Can human blood do that?" I asked.

Kevin shook his head, stepping out of Sam's room where Caleb laid. "No. Never in all of our research has that been able to happen."

"What the fuck is in your blood?" Mike mumbled.

"How would I know?" I hissed.

He stood up suddenly, stepping towards me. "Maybe we should test it."

Sam stepped in between us. "Not tonight, Mike. Let's all give it a rest. Jade almost died because she was left alone. Maybe we should be more concerned about that."

Mike rolled his eyes, walking into the kitchen with Kevin. Colby slid out of Sam's room silently, going towards them.

Sam turned to me, a soft smile resting on his lips. "Are you okay?"

"I'll manage." I grumbled.

He nodded his head. "I'll be right back..."

Sam stepped out of the apartment, closing the door behind him. I glanced over at Jake, who was by the window away from everyone. He hadn't spoken a word since everyone got here. I walked over to him, tapping his shoulder lightly. "Hey Jake."

He kept his gaze out the window. "Hi."

"Are you okay?" I queried.

Jake scoffed. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"Well... I'm alright. I survived." I responded.

"No thanks to me." He grunted.

"Don't beat yourself up over this Jake. God knows why my blood gave Caleb powers. None of us knew that was gonna happen." I admitted.

Jake finally turned to me. "I still should have been able to stop him. He's a newborn."

"He's still a vampire. With powers... something you don't and can't have." I argued.

"You could have died, and I did nothing to stop it." He retorted.

"Jake, I don't blame you for what happened tonight. Besides, you did help." I mentioned.

"How?" He doubted.

"You told Sam to get me a pineapple angel face drink." I informed

"What the fuck is that?" Jake questioned.

I snickered. "Enough of a clue to get him up here in time to knock Caleb out."

He stayed silent for a second. "...I helped?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Do you really not remember?"

"No. Everything's a bit... blurry. Like, I watched a movie of it happening instead of living through it." He confessed.

"I'm thinking that could be his power. Maybe he has the ability to confuse people." I noted.

"I still feel shitty about it. Was there any way you could have made me stay with you and him?" Jake speculated.

"No. He said that he was planning to snap your neck if I didn't get you to leave. So, I did what I could." I continued, crossing my arms. "Besides, I had it under control."

He chuckled. "Those bite marks say otherwise."

"Well... my under control means me getting hurt and you staying alive. So, I succeeded." I joked.

Jake stared into my eyes. "I promise you this won't happen again. I'm sorry you got hurt."

I leaned up and hugged Jake tightly. "I forgive you, Jake."

As I looked over Jake’s shoulder, I could see Colby gazing at us. Gazing at me. His full attention was on Jake and I. His eyes were soft, along with his expression.

Was he listening to us?

A light groan came from Sam's room. The door opened and Caleb stepped out, slowly stumbling. Everyone was on attention in a second. Jake stepped in front of me, hiding me from Caleb.

"Woah, what the fuck... happened?" Caleb moaned.

Mike spoke. "Dude, you drank a lot."

Caleb turned his head towards the kitchen. "Mike. Colby. Didn't even know you guys were here."

"I went out to a different club tonight. Same with Mike. Can't give Kevin all of our business." Colby joked.

"Yeah. Um... how much did I drink?" Caleb asked.

"A lot, bro. You pretty much emptied out my liquor supply." Kevin smiled.

"I... don't really remember doing that." Caleb admitted.

"What do you remember?" Mike stepped forward.

Caleb answered. "I drank, and drank, and drank... and then I came up here. But that's it."

"Jade found you passed out on Sam's bed." Kevin replied.

Caleb turned his head towards me. "You did?"

I nodded my head, my body on edge and unable to speak.

He nodded softly to himself. "Okay, I think I'm gonna head out. It was nice seeing you all again. And it was nice meeting you… Jade."

It felt like his eyes lingered on me for too long. I tried to slow down my breathing as Kevin wrapped his arm around Caleb. "Here. Let me walk you out, Caleb."

We all watched as Kevin followed Caleb out of the apartment and down into the club, where we could no longer see him.

“Oh, thank God.” I uttered, taking a deep breath.

“He’s not coming back, right?” Jake inquired.

Colby shook his head. “He only comes around once every couple months. So, no. Kevin’s gonna make sure he takes an Uber out of here so he’s not staying around.”

“Do you think he really forgot everything?” Mike crossed his arms.

“The Angelica flower would definitely do that to him.” Colby surmised.

The front door to the apartment opened unexpectedly, our attention turning towards it. Sam and Katrina appeared, awkward smiles resting on their faces.

“Hey guys… did Caleb leave?” Sam questioned, pulling Katrina in to the apartment.

“Yeah, you just missed him.” Colby divulged.

Sam commented. “Good.”

Mike peaked around Colby. “Hey Kat.”

Kat waved. “Hi Mike.”

Sam cleared his throat. “So… Colby, Jake, Jade… I wanted to introduce you to Katrina.”

Jake walked up to Katrina and shook her hand. “Sup, I’m Jake.”

She shook his hand back. “Yeah, we met the night I met Sam.”

Colby walked up and Sam turned towards him. “Colby. Katrina. Katrina. Colby.”

“Hey.” Katrina smiled.

“Hello.” Colby greeted.

“And…” Sam began.

Kat interjected, sticking her hand out. “Jade. It’s nice to meet you again. Especially when I’m not drunk.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” I slid my hand into hers.

The moment our skin touched, a shock-wave ran through my body. It must have ran through Katrina’s too because for a split second, I saw a white glow appear around us both. I could feel the energy land in my crystal necklace that rested against my chest. The sensation made Kat and I jump back.

“Woah, what happened?” Sam gasped.

We both stared at each other, unable to speak.

No one else saw it. It was just us two that did.

I shook my head. This night was going on for too long. Maybe I was going crazy.

“Um… static shock.” I chuckled.

A tight-lipped Kat nodded. “Yep. Really strong… static shock.”

<< CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 9 >>

#colby brock #sam and colby #katrina stuart #Mike's dead #kevin langue #jake webber #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fic #colby brock vampire #vampire #colby brock x oc #the chosen daughter #colby brock story #colby brock angst

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heyyyharry · 5 years

Text

Chapter 4: From Now On

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Be My Only)

…in which Harry finally makes a promise he can keep.

Word count: 5.3k

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

Chapter 3: Ruby - Harry wants to be good enough, and Y/N is confused.

Wattpad link

ANNOUNCEMENT: After this chapter, I will take a two-week break to study for my finals. I'll be back on July 4 with the preview for chapter 5. Thank you so much for reading! Please vote and comment! :) - Allie.

Harry wished he had a better reason to show up here. Any other reason, just not Y/N.

In a year, the only 'conversation' he had with Isaac was at the hospital, when Isaac said "I'm glad you're safe", and he replied, "thank you for showing up." So if he told a stranger how close they used to be, he doubted that person would believe him. Everything was his fault, and he had a lot of nerves to show up at Isaac's studio only to ask about Y/N.

But what else could he do? Many people were worried about her, himself included. She was the girl he loved, too, and he needed to make sure she was okay. She had been just fine when they met at the bookstore this morning. So as unpleasant as Harry knew this confrontation might be, he had been so eager to talk to Isaac to find out why.

Sadly, the feeling wasn't mutual.

Isaac walked toward him. No, he walked toward the door behind him, actually. His serene blue eyes were ice cold as he switched off the last light in the room, making it obvious that he wanted no guest. With a flat but cautionary tone, he said, "we can talk tomorrow. I'm getting ready to leave."

Harry didn't let him through, he took a large stride to stand in Isaac's way, trying his best to remain calm as he muttered, "it's about Y/N."

Isaac scoffed, shaking his head. "Of course it is."

"No, you don't get it—"

"Shouldn't you be more concerned about Ruby? One at a time, mate."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked when Isaac pushed right past him. The tension was obvious but Harry should've seen this coming. He knew better than anyone the consequences of silence. Silence turned to suppressed emotions which turned to anger, so here he was, dealing with what he had started in the first place.

"It means what it means," Isaac said through gritted teeth. He had never used violence in his life, but his words right now weren't different from a powerful punch. "Since you and Ruby are back together now, you should worry about her instead of following Y/N everywhere she goes."

Harry remained as still and pallid as a corpse, unresponsive to his best friend's attack. He wasn't usually good at tolerance, Isaac was. But right now, the situation had changed them both. Harry sucked in a breath, ignoring the mean accusation, because what Isaac thought of him didn't matter anymore.

"Nobody knows where she is," he blurted, stopping the other man the second he attempted to walk away. "Her father called me earlier. They were supposed to meet up at 5 PM but she didn't show up. He couldn't reach her nor you, so he called me. I already came to the bookstore but Alice said she'd already left. That's why I'm here, I just want to make sure she's okay."

The reaction Harry received wasn't one he wanted to see. He had assumed Isaac must've known where Y/N was. She was his girlfriend after all. So why was he giving Harry this look, as if he was just as clueless as everyone else?

"I-I left my phone at home..." Isaac stuttered as he shook his head. "Have you gone to her place?"

"Yeah, but she wasn't there," Harry uttered. "You haven't spoken to her?"

Isaac let out a controlled breath, as if the words he wanted to say were still circulating his mind, not yet ready to flow outward. Harry wished he could fill up this grim silence with just anything, but he knew better than to speak up. And so he waited for an answer, one he couldn't have seen coming.

"We broke up."

Isaac made it sound like no big deal, but Harry knew those words weren't as easy as they sounded, which left him perplexed. At first, he'd assumed Y/N was the one who had called it quit. She had always been afraid of commitment and people leaving her, so she might've freaked out and walked away.

But then Isaac added, "when I spoke to her...she didn't take it very well." And now Harry could figure out the reason why.

"Is it because of me?" His voice trembled as he pointed a finger to himself, and the look on his best friend's face was already the answer. "Are you insane? You broke up with her because of me? Nothing is going on between us, mate! She was just looking out for me as a friend and she was clearly happy with you! Y/N hasn't been happy for so long, you can't just take it away from her by leaving her like that!"

"You think I wanted to?"

"Then why did you?!" Harry never wanted to raise his voice, but his bad temper had taken over him. It was only until he saw Isaac's startled expression, that he took a deep breath to calm himself down, and try to think of all the places Y/N would go to when she was sad.

"There's this bar..." he spoke after a while. "Shit, I forgot what it's called, but...I can show you the way, maybe you'll find her there."

"I won't go."

That simple answer caused Harry to widen his eyes. "Are you fucking kidding me? Go, she's your girl!"

"She's not my girl," Isaac calmly said. "She's never been."

Harry was totally stunned as words bounced around inside his skull, yet they couldn't form a proper response to that statement. And so he stood there, gawking at Isaac until came a question that hit him just as hard. "You love her, don't you?"

"What are you talking about?" He released a breathy laugh, though the voice in his head said 'yes' without pause. Isaac wasn't a mind reader, he was just a good friend who knew Harry from inside out. Taking a deep breath, he gave a sad crooked smile to hide the fact that he was distressed, and eventually spoke, "then why are you torturing yourself by being with Ruby?"

"I...I'm not...I'm not with Ruby." Harry shoved his hands into his pockets, his eyes shifted to the side to avoid Isaac's piercing stare. "I just...want Y/N to be happy and she's obviously happier with you. I'm fine with just being there for her though."

"You know that she's not happier with me." Isaac slowly shook his head, watching the smile slip from Harry's face. "She loves you...She always has. I guess the three of us wanted to believe otherwise, to make everything less complicated. But we're only making it worse, because we've been lying to ourselves, and to each other."

"Isaac..." Harry trembled. His stomach shifted uneasily, and he noticed his fingers had gathered into fists, resting firmly by his sides. It wasn't hard to apologize, but it would be hard if the apology wasn't accepted. But if he continued to hold it back, he might lose this friendship forever.

Taking in a deep breath, he broke the silence, "I'm sorry. I know I've done so many selfish things that ruined our friendship. But...I missed you. I wish we could be friends again, though I can only expect you to forgive me and leave everything behind us."

Isaac rolled his eyes and released a snort which made Harry's heart pound harder in his chest. "So that's a no?" He asked quietly.

To his surprise, Isaac shook his head. "You need to stop being friends to be friends again, H."

That sentence was all it took for a slow smile to spread over Harry's gaunt features. His happiness was so contagious that Isaac had to break into a grin as well. Sighing, he told Harry, "I was angry at you for so many things, yeah. But no matter how fucked up you are sometimes, you're still a brother to me."

"Thank you," Harry muttered, feeling all the tension pouring out of his chest when his best friend stepped forward to pat him on the arm.

"Now go," Isaac said, his face turned serious again. "Before she does something crazy or stupid. We both know how she is."

Harry had only been to this bar twice; the first time was to pick up Y/N, because she had passed out on the counter; then for their first unofficial date, she took him there again. She had mentioned that it was one of her go-to places when life turned to shit. So he took a wild guess that she was there tonight.

It had been a year, but he still remembered the other route through an alley which she had shown him before. He couldn't risk being seen going to some bar to pick up a drunk girl, not while his movie was being promoted, and his drama with Ruby hadn't cooled down yet.

Parking his car on the side of the street, he walked on his own along the cobbled road sandwiched between abandoned buildings on the sides. If Jeff knew he was walking around London instead of staying at home for his wounds to heal, he would get in so much trouble. But right now he was too scared to pay attention to the pain. The echoes of his footsteps made it seem like somebody was following him, like one of those movie scenes that made him hold his breath and cover his eyes. Y/N wasn't afraid of the dark corners of the city, but he did. Now he began to wonder how he had walked this path the first time without fear. Maybe it was her presence by his side that had made him feel safe. He hurried his feet to go faster, until he saw the yellow beams of the only lamppost ahead, and sighed in relief. He'd made it.

He pushed the metal door open, the feeling of panic rose in his chest. The loud music made his skin tingle as he slipped through the crowd, trying to look for a familiar face. The thought of her pressing against warm bodies and being touched by strange men made his blood boil, but thank God, she wasn't on the dance floor. As he struggled to make it to the bar, he found her sitting there with a bottle in her hand, slurring senseless words to Andrew the bartender, who wasn't even listening. Stepping closer, he reached out to touch her arm.

"Bambi, hey..."

She pushed him away immediately. Her head snapped back and her eyebrows creased when she finally recognized him. This time she didn't flinch as he placed both hands on her shoulders, so he crouched down to meet her gaze.

"Let's go home, yeah? Go home with me."

Y/N thought for a moment, but right before she could speak, the bartender interrupted her.

"Here you are, Harry," he said.

"You remember my name?" Harry asked, making Andrew chuckle.

"Your girlfriend has been rambling on about you for three hours. You two need to sort your shit out, I can't have her here every time you fight."

"More, Andrew, more!" Y/N shouted, slamming her fist on the counter.

Harry used all the patience he had left to shake his head, and try to talk some senses into her. "You've had enough, kid. I'm taking you home."

"I'm not going home...not with you..." She scrunched up her nose, stabbing a finger at him. "You ruined everything. I was happy...and now you're here...and I'm not happy. And everything...everything is your fault!"

Harry exchanged looks with Andrew, who quickly turned to the other guests, as he wanted nothing to do with this problematic couple. Y/N picked up her beer again. This time, Harry snatched it from her and put it down where she couldn't reach, causing her to frown.

"Go home to your girl. Leave me the fuck alone," she grumbled. That little attitude was driving him insane and he couldn't take it anymore. He grasped her face, forcing her eyes back on him so she knew he was serious.

"My girl is here, and she's making me so fucking angry by acting like a brat." His jaw clenched when she shot him a glare. "I swear to God I'll carry your drunk ass to the car if I must."

"Please do," he heard Andrew say but ignored because his mind was racing with plans. He was trying to figure out how he would carry her out of here with his injured knee. Fortunately, he didn't have to. Y/N got up on her own, nearly slumping onto the floor but regaining her balance just in time. With a sigh of relief and a hand on her waist, he guided her towards the back entrance.

"Andrew! That girl didn't pay!" A waitress shouted once the troublesome pair had left. But Andrew didn't even care. He gave her a shrug, raising his eyebrows. "I would've paid her to leave."

The moment they stepped out of the bar, Y/N immediately turned into a different version of herself. Before, she had refused to let him touch her, not even to keep her from falling down or walking into a wall. But now she was all over him. She rested her forehead against his chest and draped her arms around his lower body, snuggling into his side like a nice little kitten. His clothes were also soaked in the harsh scent of drink. Still, he held onto her body, knowing if he let go she would collapse. She was struggling to keep her balance. If she was sober enough to get a joke, he would tell her she looked exactly like Bambi now, with her legs swaying from left to right.

"You're a pain in the ass." He chuckled when she lifted her face to inhale his scent, the tip of her nose brushing against his jaw.

"You smell good," she commented with a smile and her eyes snapped shut. He didn't know if she was aware of herself saying it, but he quietly thanked her anyway.

As they kept on walking, Y/N began to hum a silly song from a commercial which she didn't even remember the lyrics, so she went "la la la" for the second half, causing him to burst out laughing. But then, she stopped walking immediately. As she slipped right out of his embrace, Harry halted and turned around, still holding her hand firmly for fear that she might fall.

"This...this is where we kissed..." She whispered to him with a little smile that made his heart leap. He looked at the brick wall on his right, taking a deep breath as his heart slowed down.

He nodded. "Yeah, it is."

She kept staring at that wall while his eyes were fixed on her. Both of them were reminiscing about the passionate moment they had shared right in this spot, and their first time in his car. He remembered everything as if it was yesterday. The noises she had made, the touch of her hands, the way her body had felt against his, her kisses, the look in her eyes. That was the night which had changed everything for them. He would give anything to go back.

"Let's stay here," she broke the silence, now holding his right hand with both of hers, squeezing it tightly as she closed the distance between them.

"Let's stay here, we can be happy here," she repeated the same thought he'd had just a couple of seconds ago. If they could freeze space and time, he would agree and stay here with her for as long as she wanted. But now she was drunk, and he couldn't risk her safety by standing here for too long. Shaking his head, he withdrew his hands from her grip and took a step to hold her face.

"We need to go home, love."

She refused, pulling him back when he intended to pull her along.

"Don't go."

Harry thought he had misheard something. He was only gawking at her until she said it again. This time, her voice broke, and she choked on the words. "Don't go, please...If we leave this place, you're going back to her...I...I don't want you to...Please stay with me..."

Those were the things Y/N would never say when she was sober. Her pride would never let her fall into such a vulnerable state, that she had to admit she was scared and insecure. When they were children, she would get mad every time he called her short, or skinny, or weak. She always wanted to believe she was big and strong and capable of everything. But now she let it all go to tell him she was actually afraid, afraid of not being good enough, afraid of losing him. And he blamed himself for making her feel this way.

"I'm not going anywhere, love." He moved closer so their lips were only two inches apart, his thumbs caressing her cheeks slowly. "I'm gonna stay with you, alright?"

"Why should I trust you this time?"

"Because I love you."

She sniffled, her eyelids drooped as her lower lip quivered. From the way she was gazing at him, it was hard to tell if she was sensible enough to remember this in the morning. But Harry couldn't hold it back anymore. He'd been dying to tell her, and he must, or else his chest might explode.

"I love you so much," he mumbled, his voice was breathy and gruff. "I'm gonna love you for as long as you want me to, yeah? From now on, you're my one and only, there's never gonna be anyone else."

She looked at him with her Bambi eyes, and he expected her to say something as her lips parted. But her face was white, and dripping sweat, and tears. Before Harry could react, she lurched forward. The foul-smelling liquid was sprayed all over his favorite Gucci shoes, freezing him to the spot.

His entire body stiffened for a second as she kept on throwing up. So all he could do was rub his hand up and down her back, until she finished and stumbled back into his arms. Now she was clearly unaware of what was happening.

"Alright." Harry sucked in a breath. "Guess we're going back to my place."

Y/N opened her eyes to the dimly lit room, not sure if it was day or night as the drapes were so thick it completely prevented natural light from sneaking in. Her throat was burning, but instead of getting up to get some water, she wrapped herself in the soft duvet and curled up on her side. Her head hurt like someone was hammering her skull, and she was trying so hard not to fall back to sleep again.

But then, her eyes shot open. This scent. Fuck. She pulled her face out of the pillow and finally looked around the room. No, no, no, no. This cannot be real. This is Harry's room. I'm in his room!

She propped herself up, blinking rapidly for the dizziness to go away, and sliding out of bed as fast as she could. Her clothes were nowhere to be found. Instead, she was wearing one of his big white t-shirts with only her panties underneath. The last memory she had of last night was her throwing up all over the place. And so she cursed under her breath and prayed that she hadn't done anything foolish, like having sex with Harry and not remembering anything now. Despite her aching feet, Y/N headed downstairs to the kitchen.

Just like she had guessed, Harry was already up, and he was making breakfast.

"Morning," he said with a smile when she walked in.

Y/N knew she shouldn't be so straightforward, considering how awkward this situation was already. But as she was barely awake, her mouth was quicker than her brain.

"Did we have sex?" The question slipped out before she could stop herself. And now she could feel her cheeks burning up as he gave her a funny look.

"No." He chuckled, resting his weight against the table as he told her how he had found her in that bar. He said he'd come to see Isaac, and so she guessed he knew about their breakup already. He was polite and didn't mention it. She hoped he didn't know he was the reason.

"...I couldn't let you sleep in your dirty clothes so I gave you a bath and—"

"You gave me a bath?" Her face scrunched up in shock, causing his smile to expand.

"You smelled like sweat and vomit, Bambi. I didn't have a choice." He rolled his eyes, handing her a glass of water. "Don't worry, I didn't do anything to you. I put you in the tub and literally sprayed water on you like I always do to my mother's cat."

Though mad at him, Y/N couldn't stop smiling at the joke. She tilted her head back and quickly gulped down the water as if she'd been thirsty for years. When she finished and put the empty glass on the marble counter, she ignored his bulging eyes and carefully glanced around the kitchen.

"Where are my clothes?"

"In the dryer," Harry said, the corners of his lips turned up. "I'll go get them for you."

He walked right past her, and she didn't spare him a single look. All she could think about right now was the questions she should ask when he returned. Or should she pretend like nothing was wrong, and leave as soon as she got her stuff back? She wanted to leave. Not because she hated being around him, but because she didn't trust herself with him. One look in his green eyes and she would grow too attached that she could never walk away.

Y/N couldn't remember much of last night, but what she remembered was what she couldn't ignore. Until now she still wasn't sure if those were solid memories, or ones her mind had created under the influence of alcohol. Harry would know the answer, because he had been with her the whole night. But the problem was that, she was too afraid to ask for the truth. She stood there for a moment, pondering while fidgeting with his shirt. Eventually, she made up her mind and walked back to the living room, just in time Harry returned downstairs.

"Here...I couldn't get the stain out of your sweater, but let's hope nobody notices..." He chuckled nervously and handed the folded clothes to her. She took them, muttering a soft "thank you" when the only thing in her mind right now was, fuck, I'm gonna walk out of here smelling just like him.

"Are you staying for breakfast?" His voice pulled her out of her own thoughts. She looked up, about to decline, but his caring gaze caused her knees to go numb in an instant. All of her pent-up emotions turned into butterflies, and now they were going insane in her stomach. She feared that if she opened her mouth, they might burst right out of her body. She needed to take a deep breath, and calm down.

"Last night..." Y/N spoke, not noticing that she was holding his wrist now. "We were in the alley, right?"

Harry nodded, releasing a breathy "yes" that showed how anxious he was, but his eyes never left hers. Her grip tightened when she swallowed hard, to get rid of that uncomfortable lump in her throat so she could go on.

"And I remember you saying a few things...I don't remember exactly...but...I just..." She let out a shaky chuckle just for the sake of lightening up the mood. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't finish that sentence. Shaking her head fast, her eyes darted away from his. "Never mind. It's silly..."

As she let go of Harry's wrist, his fingers grasped hers instantly. She flinched in surprise as anticipation filled her lungs, almost leaving her breathless. He took the clothes from her and laid them down on the couch. Then, came the words she thought she had only heard in a dream.

"I love you."

Y/N's face was white as chalk. Her eyes and her mouth were wide open, and although she was staring straight at him, she appeared not to notice him at all. Ever since she was nine, she had envisioned this scene many times before, but now that it was happening for real, she didn't know what to do, or what to say.

Harry disregarded her reaction, as he stepped forward and brought her shaky hand to his chest, placing it right where his heart was. "I love you," he repeated as if she hadn't heard it loud and clear the first time. "That's what I said last night, you didn't hear it wrong."

So the second time then. He's said it three times.

Y/N had no idea why she was counting, but she needed to stay sane while the voices in her head were going insane. Harry, on the other hand, looked as relaxed as ever. He was nervous too, but he seemed certain, like he had thought it over so many times before to not mess it up.

"Told you I loved you and you threw up right afterward, so to be honest, I was a bit offended," he joked to lighten up the mood, but she was too shocked to laugh along with him.

"Anyway..." He awkwardly cleared his throat and furrowed his eyebrows again. "I know...I should've said these words when you wanted to hear them the most. It's late now, a year late, or maybe more. But I love you, only you. And I'm never leaving you again, I promise."

Y/N drew a sharp breath, and withdrew her hand when Harry had finished. Her expression dulled for a moment until she heard him whisper, "please say something."

"What do you expect me to say?" She spoke at last. But instead of being offended by that disappointing response, Harry cracked a gentle smile.

"Anything," he told her.

Y/N swallowed, finally releasing the hem of his shirt she was wearing, but unsure where else to put her hands, so she tucked them under her arms, almost hugging herself. She could feel her heart beating in her ears. A second ago she was overjoyed, and now she was filled with anxiety.

"I...uhm...I need time to think..." She admitted, glancing back up to catch his eyes. "Can I...have time to think?"

"Take all the time you want, just don't disappear on me again." He frowned, cupping her face. His touch was soft yet it made her entire body tense. Eventually, she stopped fighting herself, and relaxed with the comfort of his presence, by nodding her head. He caressed her cheeks, running his thumb down to her lips which were slightly parted, as if expecting something.

"I'm not telling you I love you to hear you say it back," he whispered. "I just want you to know that I'll do anything for a second chance. You can think about it, and tell me when you've made up your mind. Is that alright?"

It was definitely alright. But the problem was, Y/N had so many questions right now. She knew Harry would never hurt her on purpose. So if he wasn't sure about his feelings for her, he wouldn't have said he loved her, repeatedly. But what about Ruby? Why was she here the other day? Also, how and when had he realized he loved her? There were so many questions that she wanted to ask, yet she was panicking and her mind was a mess. She needed to be alone so she could think this through.

"I don't think I can stay for breakfast...I'm late for work," she said but didn't move, because she loved the way he was stroking her hair.

Smiling, Harry gave her a nod. "Okay. Want me to drive you?"

"No, thanks."

She took a step backward to free herself from him and picked up her clothes to head out.

"Bambi!" He stopped her before she reached the front door, trying to contain his laughter when he saw how clueless she was. "At least put your clothes on, kid."

Her face reddened as she wrapped both arms around herself to hide her nipples from showing through the thin fabric, as if he hadn't seen her naked already. She could imagine the smirk on his face as she walked past him to go change. And fuck, she just wanted to disappear.

"That's the kitchen."

Goddamn it!

"I know that!" She shouted back, steering ninety degrees to the left, before she humiliated herself by walking straight into his kitchen. She had officially lost her mind, and it was only eight in the morning.

Soon she was on the bus to work, but he was still everywhere, on her body, in her head, in her heart. Her clothes smelled exactly like him, which was only making harder for her to resist thinking about him again. She might actually fall sick with her stomach contracting and her heart beating this intensely.

Leaning back, Y/N stared out of the window on the side, watching the buildings rushing backward, to keep her mind from analyzing everything he'd said before. That was what she'd promised him though, that she would think about it, and give him an answer. But the problem was, she didn't know where to begin.

The sound of her ringtone caught her attention. Quickly, she pulled out her phone and saw her father calling, as expected.

"Hey, dad," she spoke right when he first said hello. "I'm sorry for not showing up yesterday, I—"

"It's okay, darling. Harry told me you were too sick to get out of bed. Are you feeling better now?"

"Y-Yeah...I'm feeling much better." She scoffed, silently thanking Harry for not exposing her crazy ass to Bradford. But she didn't know what he had said specifically to elaborate the lie, so she thought changing the subject might be a better idea. "Are you still in London? How's aunt Lynn?"

Bradford had been in the city for a day to visit her mother's sister, who had recently bought a new flat here. They were supposed to go together, but Y/N was in a bad mood and forgot. She didn't feel bad about it though, she'd never liked Lynn anyway.

"No, I'm already home. Your aunt was nice, but...her cooking gave me a stomachache."

Y/N chuckled slightly, shaking her head. "Well, now you get why I'd rather let Harry babysit me than her."

"Speaking of Harry," Bradford began, making his daughter instantly regret mentioning that name. "Lynn thought you two were dating because she saw him at my wedding. Did you know he was there?"

Y/N was still as a statue for a whole second. "N-No," she faltered, her eyebrows knitted together as she subconsciously pinched her own arm. "Did she mistake him for someone else?"

"No, she even talked to him. She told him you were with Isaac, so he came to the backyard to find you."

Her mouth opened and shut like a goldfish but no sound escaped. She stared blankly ahead despite her father asking if she was still listening. Only when the driver blew the horn did she snap out of it, and rose from her seat as the bus pulled in.

"I gotta go now. Call you later?"

"Sure, darling. Love you!"

"Love you, too."

As always, Y/N got off last, hurrying just wasn't her thing. She inhaled the fresh morning air, and blended into the crowd flowing down the wide avenue. Normally she would pay attention to her surroundings, so she wouldn't bump into those angry businessmen who were running late. But right now, her eyes were glued to her phone and her mind was going as fast as her feet.

As soon as she reached the first intersection and the crossing signal went off, she stopped, and sent the message she'd typed down to Harry.

#my girl series #older!harry #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles series #bestfriend!harry #actor!harry

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wintersxsoul · 5 years

Text

Come Back To Me

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Angst, memoy loss, mentions of torture.

A/N: This was highly inspired in the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, but I hanged the ending a bit. Thank you to my beautiful beta reader @all1e23 for putting up with my bullshit since I started writing this piece. Italic paragraphs are memories/flashbacks.

Before you, all Bucky Barnes knew was darkness, pain, a hollow chest with a broken beating heart. You appeared like flowers bloom in Spring, taking away the remnants of Winter, giving color and life to a grey world. He thought it would be impossible for someone like him to even talk to someone like you, but as always, fate had its own plans.

There were a few Hydra bases left but The Avengers needed help to locate them since the only clue they had was written in Ancient Greek. Natasha knew Latin but after a few days trying to translate, they knew they would need a professional.

That’s how you ended up in a meeting room with The Avengers. You were one of the best translators in the world, you knew more than 15 languages, written and spoken, you had four Ph.D. in History, Mythology, Literature and Art. After a few months working for them they eliminated almost all Hydra bases. You had to leave New York to do a Mythology seminar in London for two weeks, so you forgot about everything about the team and focused on your work.

In the four months you stayed with The Avengers, Bucky Barnes struggled with his feelings towards you because he had fallen in love hard and fast, so when he heard that you would be gone, his heart shattered. You both were oblivious to the feelings you had for the other, making it a bit harder for you two to communicate.

“Steve, I can’t go. I just can’t.” Bucky told his best friend, who just assigned him to go on a little trip to London. Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Listen, Buck. You are the only one on the team available, so I’m sorry, but it’s vital for you to go.”

So that’s how he ended up in one of your conferences, sitting at the back of the room, taking in all the information you were throwing at the audience. The passion and professionalism with which you spoke had his heart beating rapidly on his chest. Your whole face lit up when you saw his large figure and his blue eyes watching you, your knees almost failing you when you paced around the stage. You paused the talk for a 10 minute break and honestly, to gather yourself. Bucky almost ran down the stairs to meet you, engulfing you in a tight hug, his scent filling all your senses.

“Not that I am not happy to see you but, what are you doing here?” You tilted your head and placed a strand of hair behind your ear nervously. He smiled sweetly and explained that they needed you once more for a top secret mission he didn’t even know about.

“As much as I would love to help, I have to attend two more conferences in the following days, so I can’t go today.”

“Uhm, I...I checked your schedule and informed the team. So I’ll be staying around until you are done, if that’s okay.” You really tried not to show any kind of excitement but failed miserably. Your heart fluttered at the thought of Bucky attending your talks and after decades doing this, you felt nervous.

Bucky thought it was impossible to fall in love with you even more, but he was wrong. You started explaining the myth of Eros and Psyche, your eyes never leaving his. If your Oratory teacher saw you right now, she would be kicking you for being so unprofessional, but you really couldn’t care less.

The myth of Eros and Psyche is probably one of the best love stories in classical mythology. Eros, son of Aphrodite, was the personification of intense love desire and he was depicted throwing arrows to people in order to hit their heart and make them fall in love. Psyche, a beautiful maiden, personifies the human soul. In fact, she is the symbol of the soul purified by passions and misfortunes and who is, from now on, prepared to enjoy eternal happiness. In the love story of Eros (Cupid in Latin) and Psyche (meaning "soul" in Greek), we can see the perseverance of a man even when he is possessed by passion and the effort of a woman to overcome many obstacles in order to achieve the happiness of love.

Bucky’s eyes gleamed under the dim light of the room, and you accidentally smiled at him. He moved to the front rows so he could be closer to you, so know the whole audience knew you were probably ignoring them and just spoke to that single person you were smiling to.

When you finished explaining the whole myth, you saw a few hands rising to ask questions, and you felt pride bubble in your chest because that meant they were interested and not bored to death.

“So how did Psyche lived forever?”

“Well, Zeus decided to give her the Ambrosia, the food of the gods, so she could be immortal.”

After answering a few more questions, you saw a shy gloved hand and you shivered, not expecting him to participate at all.

“I would like to ask what this myth actually represents and what it means to you, ma’am.” Your shaky hands grabbed the glass of water that sat on the small table and drank a bit to ease your nerves. You cleared your throat and smiled.

“The interpretation I gave was the true connection of the soul and love. Eros and Psyche are the proof that everyone has a soul and is capable of love, even the darkest soul.”

Everyone started clapping when you finished, your smile only growing wider when Bucky looked at you like you hung the stars and the moon.

“You can’t tell me what this secret mission is about?” You heard Bucky sigh loudly when you approached the table he was sitting at, waiting for you. He had asked you out to have dinner and since you were staying at the same hotel, you thought it would be a good idea.

“Okay, punk. Whatever, I gotta go.” He hung up and smiled at you, his eyes roaming your figure. You were wearing your favorite dress, the soft golden silk hugging your curves amazingly. You sat rapidly, tripping on the chair and almost falling. You giggled nervously and Bucky just smiled at you, his nerves eating him alive.

“Is the dress too much?” Bucky shook his head rapidly and cleared his throat, running his flesh hand through his hair.

“No, you look beautiful.” You smiled shyly and he added “I mean, you always look beautiful, but now...there are no words to describe how you look.”

You spent the whole evening exchanging information about the other, asking questions back and forth. He asked about your childhood, the pressure of being a prodigy child and being the daughter of a genius, the lack of a normal teenage life since you entered college at 13, the disastrous first and only relationship and travelling around the world alone. Bucky shared the bits he remembered of his childhood, his academic records, war and his time being the Winter Soldier. You, of course, were dying to interview him for professional purposes since you were currently working on a book about the ending of WW2 and the Cold War.

At the end of the night, he kissed you at the door of your room and before he could turn to leave, you pushed him in your room, kissing him like it was your last day on this world.

He caressed your naked skin slowly, taking his time exploring every inch of your body, kissing and worshipping you like the goddess he believed you were. You kissed him as adoringly in return, running your hands all over body, feeling every muscle and scar, loving every inch of what Bucky Barnes was.

You were stroking his hair softly, his head pressed on your chest, your heartbeat soothing all his doubts and in a moment of pure bliss and realization, he said those three words.

“I adore you.” Your fingers froze and your breath hitched, a deep warmth spreading all over you.

“Y/n?” You realized you’d been silent for far too long so his heart started beating rapidly, the thought of you rejecting him starting to cloud his mind.

“I love you.” You said softly and he turned to face you, his expression full of love and adoration just for you. He kissed you and made love to you again, the feeling of your bodies together was like a drug to him and you were more than happy to give it to him, surrendering completely to him and him to you.

When you both got back to New York, Bucky discovered that there was no mission. Steve plotted with the whole team for you two to stop with your mutual pining and realize your feelings, his smug face pissing Bucky off.

“I told you a long ago to tell her, Barnes.” Nat added, rolling her eyes and elbowing him jokingly. You just smiled at your friends and thanked them, because without them none of that would’ve happened.

Everything was dark and cold, the thick leather straps that held your body tight to the metal chair making your skin raw. Your head was spinning, the immense pain you were feeling was blocking all the physical pain your wounds were causing. What did they do to you?

You were unconscious most of the time, but you knew they were doing something, changing something in your body, in your mind. Your loud screams numbed all the voices surrounding you but you still caught glimpses of conversations in Russian.

“He will come to get her, our mole knows how much she means to the Soldat.”

“It’s been a week already, and we haven’t heard nothing. What if she is the wrong woman?”

“It can’t be, I saw them together while following the Asset, it’s her.”

You tried to move or speak, but all it came out of your mouth was a low whine. You tried to open your eyes, your heavy lids making it hard. Everything hurt, stung, your skin felt like it had been burnt over and over again.

“Is she ready?” A thick voice asked loudly and you felt deeply terrified. Ready for what? What have they done to you?

“Well, unstrap her and prep her, he won’t take much longer.” You wanted to scream, to run, to try to fight your way out, but you couldn’t move.

“Tony, we need to find Y/N. Bucky is going insane and I’m afraid I won’t be able to hold him back much longer.” Steve found your location that exact morning, after a week of your disappearance. Apparently, you were in one of Hydra’s last bases in Siberia, one that was unknown for everyone, even for Bucky. Tony just nodded and looked at the files.

“Gear up, we’re getting our girl back.”

But it was too late, Bucky hacked the database, something Tony would be pissed off about, and got the location before Steve could even talk to him. He knew it was reckless to leave on his own, but he just couldn’t wait any longer to get you, to save you from Hydra’s claws.

Bucky Barnes was himself, but he also was the Winter Soldier, all that violence and cold blood was in him still, would always be. He was ready to enter hell for you, even if that meant never getting back home.

The morning light was bathing his room, hitting your skin and making it glow. You were smiling at him tiredly, your eyes full of adoration for him. Bucky leaned in to press his forehead to yours, chuckling lightly when you licked the tip of his nose. He narrowed his eyes jokingly and you started squealing when he pressed his hands in the most ticklish spots on your body.

Breathlessly, you sat down, still laughing and managed to speak.

“I hate you.” You pressed your hand to your belly trying to ease your laughter. Bucky tilted his head, a huge grin plastered on his face.

“You know, you were never a good liar.” You pressed your hand to your chest and looked at him, fakingly offended. He shook his head chuckling and kissed you, pressing your body to the mattress.

You jolted awake, drenched in sweat and dust, the memory making your whole body tremble, silent tears streaming down your face. You scanned the room you were at, and realized you weren’t strapped to that metal chair. Everything was awfully quiet and there was no one around. You stood up but your legs failed you, making you hit the stone cold floor, scraping your knees and palms. You reached for the makeshift bed and help yourself to stand up and once you gathered enough strength to walk, you got out of the room you were at.

Bucky was beating the last Hydra agent alive, trying to get any kind of information out of him. He laughed maniacally and spit blood to the floor.

“Hydra needed someone like her, but she was too damn stubborn to cooperate. So we fixed her.” A metal fist hit his stomach, probably breaking some organ. The agent coughed blood but kept talking.

“If we can’t have either of you, you won’t either.” Bucky could feel his bile rising at the thought of what you’d suffered while he was failing at rescuing you earlier.

“What did you do to her?” The agent smiled, clearly in pain.

“Nothing that cannot be reversed. All we need is for you to control yourself, to be compliant.” Bucky pressed his metal hand in his neck and squeezed hard enough to hurt him but not to kill him. Not yet. He pressed his body to the closest wall and held the agent against it.

“Tell me what you did to her.” Bucky muttered, the blinding rage surging throughout all his pores.

“You remember your shut down word, soldat?” Sputnik. That was the word they used when they needed to shut him down before cryo. Bucky nodded and squeezed a little tighter.

“Well, we implanted that on her, but the effects being worse.” Bucky’s eyes widened, knowing the way to implant something like that deep in your mind.

Before Bucky could say something, the agent spoke again.

“We thought it was too cruel even for us, so you have 24 hours to keep her safe forever. But if you say the trigger words before the time’s up, she will be gone for good.” He smirked wickedly and Bucky squeezed harder, until he heard the neck break.

24 hours. He had 24 hours left.

“Come on, say it.” Bucky shook his head, too afraid to say those three meaningful words. You smiled at him but deep down it hurt you, it hurt that he couldn’t say them.

“You know I do, why do you need to hear me say it?”

“Because it becomes real for me.”

“I can’t say them, not yet.” Bucky’s expression fell but you just shrugged and added a “whatever” with a smile, trying to convince him that you were fine with it.

“Whenever you are ready, I will be here waiting for you to say it.” You kissed him, smiling into the kiss, feeling his tears mixing with your lips.

You heard screams and a familiar voice, so you ran like hell, your body working on its own, your mind racing with thoughts of you and Bucky. You were close to him, you could feel it in your bones, and when you entered the training room, there he was.

Bucky’s eyes widened, taking you in. You were okay. He sighed relieved and moved towards you while you did the same, meeting him in the middle. You gasped when your arms finally touched his body, the sensation of finally being safe and home wrapping you. He pressed his lips to yours in a chaste kiss, needing to check it was really you.

He held your hand and lead you to the Quinjet, you were finally going home.

“Buck?” Your mouth suddenly let out, and you frowned because you had nothing to say. He hummed, waiting for you to continue.

“I love you.” You started to cry uncontrollably, the sobbs getting louder and louder. Bucky pressed the autopilot button and moved to where you were, kneeling in front of you. He placed a strand of hair behind your ear and smiled at you sweetly, all his worries finally leaving him. You were safe, nothing had happened. It was all probably a bluff.

“I adore you.” He told you and you frowned again, because you felt like something was controlling you, was controlling your thoughts and words.

“Say it. I need you to say it, please.” You begged him, crying. He loved you, he had always known that, but he needed time to admit that to himself before being able to tell you. After everything that happened, he knew he was ready, and seeing you so heartbroken made him brave.

“I love you, Y/n.” He pressed his hand to your cheek, caressing it with his thumb. Something inside you clicked, and you smiled at him. You leaned in to kiss him, the tears already gone.

“I love you, Buck. I love you.” You laid down on the seats and closed your eyes, sighing contently. He finally said it.

“I’m very tired, please wake me when we arrive.” You opened an eye to look at him and after him nodding and kissing your temple, you closed your eyes, the tiredness taking over your body.

As soon as Bucky landed the jet, he glanced at your sleeping form and smiled, you were finally home and safe. Everyone was waiting for you to arrive at the hangar, impatiently and some of them even pissed. Bucky made a reckless move that could’ve endangered the two of you, but he knew he would succeed, just for the sake of your safety.

Bucky kneeled in front of you and stroked your head lightly, whispering softly for you to wake up, but when you didn’t even move, he started freaking out.

“We gave to subject Z10 strong doses of Apomorphine enough to kill a healthy adult, electroshock therapy for hours and we’ve succeeded to implant trigger words, stronger than the ones implanted in our first subject, The Winter Soldier.”

“Subject Z10 will be compromised as soon as the trigger words reach her hippocampus, blocking the NEK7 protein, forgetting all that is strongly attached to said words. Subject will never be able to recover those memories, but effects can be reversed if there’s no usage of the words implanted in the following 24 hours.”

“Y/n?” You slowly opened your eyes and Bucky sighed relieved but as soon as he saw your eyes, he gasped. You frowned and sat up fastly, looking frantically around you.

“Who...who are you? What am I doing here?” You cried out, confused and scared. The man in front of you retreated fastly and you could see he had a metal arm. You shivered, frightened.

“Y/n, it’s me, Buck.” He said with a deep sorrow, his eyes shining with unshed tears. You snapped your head towards the door of the jet you were at, two new faces approaching you. The man was bulky and tall, blond hair and blue eyes. The woman was small but seemed strong, a redhead with fierce green eyes. They both looked familiar but you couldn’t place them.

“Buck, what’s going on?” The tall guy asked, stepping in front of Bucky so you couldn’t see him.

“Steve, She...I- I was warned but I still used the trigger words.” Bucky cried, his knees giving up, making him fall to the floor, his body collapsing to the wall. Steve kneeled and hugged Bucky, holding his head to his chest.

“Y/n, my name is Natasha. I’ll take you to our medical bay so they can run some tests, okay?” You looked at your body and you could see a few ugly bruises and you immediately looked at the man with the metal arm. Natasha shook her head, already knowing what you were thinking.

“He would never lay a hand on you, he saved you from who did that to you.” You nodded and followed her out and into the huge building.

“Buck, if you had to choose, would you prefer to lose your memory and not being able to remember me, or me dying but keeping all of our memories?” You smiled when you saw Bucky’s eyes widening, a deep frown seated on his forehead.

“I cannot choose, both of them are the worst things that could happen to me.” You giggled and held his hand, caressing his knuckles with your thumb.

“I know, but if you had to, what would you choose?”

“Forgetting you. Life has its funny ways so maybe we could find each other again. And you?” You frowned now and placed your head on his shoulder, his scent reaching your senses.

“I had my ideas clear, but after your reasoning, I don’t know.” Bucky chuckled, his whole body vibrating, making you laugh as well.

“You would prefer for me to die but remembering me, right?” You nodded, embarrassed because you didn’t reason as he did. He bumped his nose with yours and smiled, his lips brushing yours lightly, waiting for you to kiss him.

It had been weeks since you left after Shuri ran those tests. She was able to recover your memories of the team, but Bucky was totally erased from your mind. You knew who he was, but because he was Steve’s best friend and the ex-assassin, The Winter Soldier. You were a bit shaken off after you said your goodbyes, but Bucky was totally devastated.

“Y/n, I’m sorry.” A sob escaped his trembling lips, hot tears running down his cheeks. His eyes looked dead, all the light that Bucky used to be, gone. “I hope we...I hope we can find eachother again.” You frowned, not understanding what he meant, but when you felt your cheeks wet, you realized something was off, but you couldn’t place it.

“This was never meant to happen, I should’ve died. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You didn’t know what he meant at all, but your heart was aching, the man in front of you was grieving and all you could do was frown, not remembering him at all. You approached his trembling figure and hugged him, trying to bring comfort, a basic human touch.

“Thank you for saving me, James.” And like that, you left, taking with you Bucky’s heart and soul.

“May we meet again.” He whispered, hopelessly.

#bucky #Bucky Barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes heavy angst #angst and fluff #memory loss #bucky x reader #james barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #James Buchanan Barnes #avenger!bucky

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planetsam · 5 years

Note

Alex outwardly showing not to care about Michael/Maria and causing that to blow up?

“Does she know?”

Michael stiffens at the quiet question. When he turns, Alex is standing there with an unreadable expression. No, not unreadable. Alex is standing there and he’s pissed off. Michael bristles at the question, the tone, everything. Alex takes in his reaction and doesn’t fucking move because Alex is Alex. Actually he does move, he takes a step towards him. When he said he was done walking away, this is not what Michael had in mind.

“What do you care?” He demands.

“Maria and I are friends,” he says in an infuriatingly calm tone.

“Yeah and what are you and I?” Michael challenges.

Obviously he regrets the words instantly. He doesn’t want the answer to that. He doesn’t even know himself. But his temper gets the best of him and of course they come out like a challenge with none of the fear he feels at saying them. Alex has the audacity to shrug before Michael can tell him to forget it.

“I’m not sure,” he says and he’s calm, “but I care about you both.”

How the fuck he can say that is beyond Michael. Michael’s heart has always been on his sleeve, always exposed. The words ‘I don’t know how you feel about me’ have never really been uttered around him. When he’s mad, it’s obvious. When he’s sad, it’s the same. Max never doubted that Michael was pissed off and managed to be so continuously for a decade. He never doubted that deep, deep down Michael loved him either. Alex says the words and Michael’s brain seems to short out.

“Bullshit,” Michael snaps. Alex raises his eyebrow, “you left, remember? I’m not just talking about before. You were right here and you were still gone. Don’t say you care about me now just because I’m with someone else.”

Alex frowns and then immediately goes back to his hardened expression. Michael sets his jaw. The thing is that Alex not walking away means he has to sit there and see him have that expression. He doesn’t have the buffer of Alex going to war. He doesn’t have the buffer of ‘if he stayed things would be different’. Alex is staying. Things aren’t different. Alex takes another step forward and whereas Michael recoiling might have slowed him at one point, now it doesn’t.

“That someone else is my friend,” he says calmly, “I care about her.”

“I care about her too!” He argues.

“Then why are you lying?”

Michael glares and looks away. Alex being able to cut through him is bullshit, especially when he can’t even figure out how Alex feels. Michael hates Alex’s unique ability to see through him and to blindside him. They aren’t even together, have barely spoken past pleasantries and yet somehow Alex knows. He knows and he’s not pleased. Alex loves his friends, he cares about them deeply. Michael at least knows that much. If he’s being honest he cares about Alex too, but he’s not sure if it’s a mutual feeling. Well fuck it, he thinks. The devil may care but he doesn’t have to.

“What are you gonna do, Private,” he says, “tell her? If you were jealous you could’ve just said so.”

He watches Alex’s face for any tell tail signs he’s hit a nerve, but all he sees is the cool, flat expression Alex shows him. He finds a new low when Alex takes a step forward and he lets his eyes dart to Alex’s prosthetic leg. No tells there though. And when he looks back to Alex’s face, he knows Alex is aware and just doesn’t care.

“I’ve been watching you stumble out of the Pony with a new girl on your arm every night for months,” Alex tells him, flaying him with zero effort, ”the only difference now is that you’re doing it with my friend.”

“Right,” Michael says through gritted teeth. Alex didn’t care then, he doesn’t care now, “I forgot, you wanted to leave me,” he says.

Alex nods. Faces his flaws and his mistakes and his choices. God help him, Michael can’t tell which this is. Alex somehow just stares down all three. The fact that he can still say he’s Maria’s friend while also not being able to say that he knows what he and Michael are feels like salt in the wound.

“But I guess since this is your friend,” Michael says, “that’s what makes the difference,” he smirks, “so you’ve got no problem with your friend fucking your ex?”

“We didn’t date,” Alex points out.

“And whose fucking fault is that?!” Michael roars back at him.

“Mine,” Alex says.

It’s funny, Michael thinks, he really thought that Jesse Manes was going to be the big boss in his ability to control his power. He really did. Not that it would be Alex and his smart fucking mouth. Michael cycles through everything that usually works, though honestly just seeing Alex is usually enough. It’s not this time. He picks some dumpster he sees far off and focuses on that, shoving it with a grating sound. But at least it doesn’t set off as many car alarms. He looks back at Alex but while Alex is usually so good at reading his mind, he doesn’t seem to get the warning. He just stands there and watches. It grates at Michael, even Max used to know when to back the hell off. Alex just stands there like Michael’s some drunk upset chick outside the Pony. Like he doesn’t have a fucking point or a right to be upset.

“You’re a dick,” he snarls at Alex.

“Maria is going through enough shit right now, she doesn’t need someone she can depend on lying to her.”

The anger deflates as he stares at Alex. Or maybe he just gets so angry it bypasses anger and becomes something else. This is what Alex does. He plays things close to the chest. He speaks in a language that doesn’t translate. It’s actually just about the only time that Michael feels like he comes from another world. This is history repeating itself all over again, it’s watching the car drive away to bases and Alex’s back turning in bars. He’s so sick of this song and dance. He shakes his head and looks at him.

“Stay out of it, Alex,” he says. Alex presses his lips together, “seriously, my relationships are none of your business.”

“Then tell her,” Alex says.

“Or what?” Michael challenges, “you will?” Alex’s eyes narrow and holy shit, is he being threatened. He feels sick, this was always the reason not to tell. What if you break up? “Alex—“

“No! No of course not,” Alex says, whatever tone Michael took breaking through, “I wouldn’t do that.” For the first time the cool look on his face breaks to something almost frantic, “you know I wouldn’t do that,” he says. Michael looks away, “Michael.”

“Stay out of it, Alex,” Michael says, around the pain in his chest. Is this what having a broken heart feels like?

“Tell me you know I wouldn’t do that,” Alex says, “I wouldn’t tell anyone, not even her.”

“Just—“ the frustration grates against the pain, “I gotta go,” he shakes his head and goes towards the door, giving Alex a wide margin, “I don’t know,” he says finally, turning towards him, “I can’t tell you that.”

Alex closes his eyes briefly and when he opens them it’s that cool facade for a moment before he inhales sharply. Michael feels his stomach drop. When he turns Maria is standing there, infuriatingly calmly with her arms folded. She peers out and takes in the dumpster, Alex and him. Apparently she speaks Alex a lot better than he does because she stares him down for a moment before Alex turns to go. Maria folds her arms, fixing him with an even look.

“Tell me what?”

#michael guerin #alex manes #malex #malex fic #roswell new mexico #roswell nm fanfic #maria deluca #prompts

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lihikainanea · 5 years

Text

I...I may re-write this at some point. Because I hate it. Let’s be clear, I just want these two to bang each other’s brains out again like right the fuck now but I feel like I had to ~set it up~ properly and just...look, this what you get when a horndog of an author with 2987548695659 kink buttons is in A Mood(TM) to get all of them SLAMMED AT ONCE but instead has to write ~fluff~ because it’s what makes sense for the story right now. If you need me, I’ll be in my little corner flipping this story off while my kink buttons very much do not get slammed. Fuck you BFF!Bill. I'm so mad at you right now.

Part 1 + 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

Credit my rage to @ill-skillsgard and that nani who ruined my life with the original ask in Parts 1+2 there.

I dunno how many parts left I got to this, the part below really discouraged me. I feel like I got carried away in their story line and I’m all self-conscious about it now because I really just....I want to write all the sexy times. That’s it. I liked the shorter drabbles of these two that I did more towards the beginning.

BLERGH, shut up Leilani.

***

In hindsight, the ice cream was a terrible mistake.

To your credit, it had taken awhile for things to get awkward. A good few weeks. And to Bill’s credit, he really made it near impossible to be awkward around him.The awkwardness had littered your friendship to varying degrees, but no matter how mortifying the events were, Bill just never seemed plussed about any of it. There had been the time he had gotten food poisoning on a camping trip in the woods, pitifully crawling his way on all fours to your tent in the middle of the night. You had woken up to what you thought was a wounded animal, unzipping your tent and seeing Bill’s curled up form on the ground in front of you. It had taken over an hour to help him crawl just a hundred feet to the communal washrooms, where you stayed with him on the floor for the entire night. It was nothing short of contortion, the way he folded his large body in on himself in the tiny stall, groaning in pain and discomfort. Your heart bled for him that night, he was so sick he had gone grey and the only thing you could do to help was stroke his soaked back and keep wetting paper towels to hold on his neck while he wretched. He had eventually passed out, thunking his head hard right onto your chest, and in your sleep-deprived hysteria, you thought he was dead. Mutual friends still tell the tale over beers, now a great source of laughter, of how you had emerged from the washrooms in the wee hours of the morning screaming for help with Bill--all 6′4 of him--slung over your shoulders in a fireman carry. Bill’s feet still dragged on the ground and his upper body hung limp over your shoulder, but you didn’t care. You just knew he needed help. When he eventually came to, hooked up to an IV and still looking grey, he didn't seem at all shocked when he was told how he made it to the medical centre.

Then there was the time during a traditional movie night at his place, when you felt the tell-tale cramp--that deep cramp low in your belly that had you folding in on yourself briefly. Your cycle wasn’t due for another 3 more days, but your body had other plans. You hadn’t even brought a purse to Bill’s, and looking frantically at your light coloured jeans, you knew you were in trouble. Bill stared at your form, gradually closing in on itself as another cramp hit.

“You okay?” he asked, putting a hand on your back.

“Yeah I uh...I have to go. Sorry, forgot I needed to do something tonight..” you trailed off, tossing the blanket and slowly shifting to stand in a way that would attempt to minimize the flow that you could now feel starting between your legs. Bill eyed you cautiously, then rolled his eyes. Grabbing another slice of pizza from the box in front of him, he stood and grabbed your elbow.

“C’mon,” he said, leading you to the bathroom.

“What are you--” your sentence was cut off when he reached an arm up, opening the cupboard. Inside, you stared in confusion when you spotted a small box of tampons, a few pads, even a little bottle of Midol. He turned to you, shoving another bite of pizza in his mouth.

“If there’s something in here you need, just take it,” he said, his mouth full as he chewed loudly.

“Bill why the fuck do you have these in your bathroom?”

He shrugged, blasé.

“Because I’m a grown ass man and I have grown ass women in my life,” he said, as if it was the most obvious explanation in the world.

“Take whatever you need and get your ass back on the couch, the best part is coming up,” he turned to leave before calling over his shoulder “or if you need something else or whatever, just write it down and I’ll pick it up next time I’m out.”

When you emerged from the bathroom a few moments later, a pair of sweatpants hit you smack in the face.

“In case you’re bloated or whatever,” was the explanation.

You changed. The pants were comically large, with a ton of material still pooling around your feet even after you had rolled the waistband a dozen times.

Joining him back on the couch, he covered the two of you with a blanket again before reaching behind him for something. He tucked a hot water bottle against your stomach and you moaned slightly at how good it felt, then he put his arm back around you and pulled you into his side, restarting the movie. Not another word was spoken.

So compared to a lot of what had happened in the past, having sex with him should have paled in comparison on the scale of awkward. If the sex had been terrible, perhaps a certain degree of awkwardness would be expected. But incredible sex? Incredible sex should be celebrated. And you were on board with that, for awhile.

Until the ice cream.

You had almost forgotten, in fact as the days went on you became more and more able to downplay what had happened, and the level of pleasure you experienced which seemed to have put your body in shock for more than a few days after. Maybe it wasn’t a matter of Bill being so good in bed, feeling so safe with him, and more a matter of just....how pent up you had been. You were almost convinced, almost certain that this was fact. Bill was probably just average, at best. But you did trust him a whole ton more than any of the Tinder dates you had met so combined with your hair trigger for needing a release at that time, it had all just culminated into three delightful explosions.

Until the ice cream.

It had been a longstanding tradition of yours, no matter the season, of going for ice cream the day before Bill left on another shoot. He had a sweet tooth that was completely unrivalled but he had stayed away from sweets for the few months leading up to his new gig, having to take some weight off his already slim frame for his new role. But as you sat beside him, a banana split for you and an extra large vanilla soft serve for him, you realized what a terrible mistake this was.

“Oh my god,” he groaned in pleasure and you stilled, memories of that groan flooding your mind. You turned to him just in time to see his long tongue snake out, licking slowly from the the cone to the tip of his ice cream.

“Jesus Christ,” he moaned again, “it’s been so long.” His mouth closed around the peak of it, making a small slurping noise as he sucked part of it into his mouth. You felt the heat immediately rising to your cheeks. He moaned again, swirling his tongue around the cone.

“How’s yours?” he asked.

“It’s uh, it’s good,” you said.

“Might be better if you took a bite, tiger,” he teased. Looking down, your spoon was clenched tightly in your fist and your sundae was untouched. Shaking your head slightly, you lifted the cherry off and popped it in your mouth. You nearly choked when Bill let go another groan that was nothing short of sexual.

“I’m in fucking heaven,” another long lick of his cone from bottom to top, he sighed happily and closed his mouth over the top again to suck another bite in. Your thighs clenched as you couldn’t get rid of the images that flooded your brain. Bill’s green eyes, peering up at you from between your legs, asking permission. Bill’s eyes closed, moaning in content as he ran his mouth and his nose over your panties. The hum and suckling noise when he pursed his lips around your clit, dragging it into his mouth. That sinful tongue--that long, skilled tongue slowly lapping at his ice cream--and the way he slowly lapped at you, savouring every single lick as if it was giving him as much pleasure as it was giving you.

You watched as he stuck his tongue out to lick at some of the ice cream that had dribbled on his chin, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

He had done that too, once he was done turning you into a quivering, moaning mess beneath his mouth. You remembered how he raised up on his haunches, his eyes a blaze of fiery green, as he licked at his bottom lip and swiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

You had almost started to sweat, feeling the flush creeping up your chest.

“You look weird, kid,” his voice interrupted your thoughts, “You okay?”

You cleared your throat, begging your voice not to crack. Begging--you had begged him, too, begged him to make you feel good. And he did. He promised you he would, and oh God, he did. You ran a hand over your face, resisting to urge to knock the side of your head in an attempt to force the images out of your thoughts.

“I’m good,” you lied. You couldn’t meet his eyes anymore, as you felt that ache deep in your gut start again. Your legs shook slightly, your thighs trembling, remembering how good it felt. How good he felt, and how good he made you feel. The way he seemed completely focused on your pleasure, on making sure any little movement he made gave you pleasure. How he had checked in on you, made sure you were feeling good, before continuing anything. How he had made you cry out, clinging to him, gasping for air not one, but three earth shattering times.

Suddenly, you needed air. You needed air, and you needed space. Distance.

You stood, abruptly. Bill looked up mid-lick, his tongue still on his ice cream as his eyes peered up at you. That look. You closed your eyes, pinching your brow with your fingers.

“Finish tongue-fucking that ice cream, I have a lot of work to do tonight ” you said. Your tone had come out much, much harsher than you had intended, but you turned before you could catch the confused look on his face.

He dropped you off that night, the car ride home was a one-sided conversation as he talked about the new project and how long he’d be gone, what he was excited for, what his character would do. Walking you to your door, he wrapped his arms around you tightly and laid a wet smack of a kiss on your cheek.

“Let me know when you’re free to FaceTime,” he had said, his face tucked into your neck, “There’s not too many night shoots so our schedules should sync up.”

“ ‘kay.”

“And hopefully you can come out for a weekend, you’d probably like it there. New Tinder material for you,” he chuckled.

“ ‘kay.”

He pulled away, keeping his hands on your shoulders. You stared at his chest, but felt his eyes boring into you.

“Tiger,” he commanded, “look at me.”

When you shifted uncomfortably, he moved one hand to under your chin and tilted it up to meet his eyes.

“What’s going on with you?” he asked. You looked away, your chin still resting on his hand, and gave a half-hearted shrug. Images from before still clouded your brain, your pleasure receptors still firing on all cylinders at the memory of that mouth, those hands all over you. You let out a ragged breath, and his thumb and forefinger moved to pinch your chin.

“Are you getting awkward about what happened between us?” he asked and your eyes widened in surprise--sometimes his direct and straight-forward approach still caught you off guard.

“Jesus Bill,” you tried to move your chin away but he opened his hand, cupping your jaw.

“Answer me.”

“No, I’m not getting fucking awkward about it.”

“Eyes, kid.”

You dragged your eyes back to his and he saw right through you, raising his eyebrows in challenge. You pouted.

“Don’t lie to me, tiger,” his tone softened and he sighed, “Look, that night--did it feel good? Did you feel good?”

“Uh....yes,” you responded quietly. He bent at the knees, tilting his head to maintain eye contact with you when you tried to look away.

“And do you feel better now, after you got what you needed?” he asked. You hated this. You hated every part of how honest he was, how comfortable he was at having these insanely uncomfortable conversations.

“Ugh, Bill, I can’t--”

“Answer me.”

“Yes,” you whispered, heat blazing your cheeks. There was nothing but kindness in his eyes though, genuine honesty to his questions.

“You deserve to feel good. You needed to feel good. And you trusted me with that. And I helped?” he looked to you for confirmation.

“Yeah. Yeah you helped,” you confirmed. He smiled, stroking your cheek.

“And I was happy to. You’re my best friend, kid. I love you, and I wanted to help you. That’s it, okay? We promised it wouldn’t get awkward,” he looped an arm around you again, bringing you back in for a hug. ‘It’s just sex.”

“Fucking phenomenal sex,” you muttered into his chest.You felt his boisterous laugh, his arms squeezing you tighter.

“It was fucking phenomenal sex,” he pulled away and smiled at you. You tugged his jacket collar down, silently beckoning him to bend and you kissed his cheek.

“Have fun, Billy Goat,” you said.

“Be safe, tiger” he responded, “Stay outta trouble while I’m gone.”

And with a final wave as you shut your door, you watched him pull out into the street. He’d text you tomorrow morning from the airport, you knew, and again when he landed.

But tonight, tonight you still had an ache in your gut, a tremble in your thighs that you knew wouldn’t let you sleep until those pleasure receptors--ones that remembered all too well--were satiated again.

#BFF!Bill #BFF Bill #bill skarsgard drabble #bill skarsgard fic #bill skarsgard #nani asks #sometimes I hate writing #and it hates me right the fuck back

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elulallemant-d · 5 years

Text

Prince Charming

Ch. 2/?

previous parts: 1

summary: in which lucas applies for a job at disneyland and oh my god, the guy who plays prince charming is way too attractive for his own good

read on ao3

———

Lucas immediately regrets his decision.

The reality of it all eventually hit him right after he signed his name by the main desk eoth Basile practically bouncing in the seat by him. After constantly convincing himself he wouldn't work here, one boy he most probably wasn't going to see again ruined it all and changed his mind in the span of a few seconds.

He was just realising it and really regretting it.

That boy was one in the millions of people he saw that day. What were the chances that he’d see him again? The heat of the day was probably getting to Lucas, maybe that’s why he thought Prince Charming was staring at him. Maybe he was far sighted and couldn’t tell he was looking at Lucas.

Yet, he still intrigued Lucas way too much.

After spending a few more hours following Basile around the obnoxiously colourful landscape — and shamelessly keeping an eye out for Prince Charming, but he wouldn’t even admit that to himself — he and the boys were on the train. It was fairly empty aside from a woman and a few students at the far end. It was probably late anyway, considering Lucas wastefully spent his day at Disney Land.

“I still don’t get it,” Arthur squinted his eyes, sitting opposite to Lucas, his elbows resting on his knees as he leaned toward him, “you always make fun of Basile and me working at Disney, but here you are.”

“Mika’s on my ass about paying the rent,” He mumbled.

Basile clapped dramatically, earning a glare from the woman, “God bless Mika,” he praised in a hushed voice.

Lucas rolled his eyes as Basiles exaggerated actions, his dangerous thoughts drifting elsewhere. Elsewhere meant those captivating blue eyes. Lucas spoke before he could stop himself, desperately needing a name to the face practically engraved to his mind.

“Who plays each character?” He questioned subtly, praying that either Basile or Arthur would mention Prince Charming.

“Well, Arthur plays Peter Pan, Daphné, Cinerella,” Basile began, physically ticking off each character with his fingers, “Imane is Tiana, one of our friends, Lucille, she’s Snow White, Manon is Princess Belle—“

Lucas paid less attention with each passing name, mentally ticking off each name that wasn’t Prince Charming. Basile went on, mentioning Disney characters Lucas didn’t even know existed in his life span. He mentioned people he knew from school and people whom he’s heard of from Basile and Arthur, but none of them were the one he wanted.

Eventually, Basile ended his documentary, not a single time mentioning Prince Charming.

“Uh, is that all?” Lucas pushed, getting to the point where he’d just blatantly ask for the name of Prince Charming. He was getting increasingly desperate.

Arthur spoke up before Basile could conclude his confirmation, “No, he forgot Eliott,” Arthur added without thought, but Lucas, on the other hand, prayed this guy— Eliott, was him, “you don’t know him, but he plays Prince Charming.”

Fucking finally!

Eliott.

A pretty face and a pretty name. How was that possibly fair?

“Oh, yeah,” Basile exclaimed, “he’s a cool guy, really chill,” he agreed, stopping for a few seconds, “but he doesn’t come in that much. A few days he’s in and doing really well on the job — he’s great with kids — then he skips like a full week and calls in sick. I don’t know why the manager hasn’t said anything about it. Ir happens so regularly you’d think he’d get a warning or even fired, but nothing really happens.”

Lucas couldn’t pay any less attention to Basiles rambling. All that rang through his head was Eliott.

Why was he so hung up on him? Lucas hasn’t even spoken to him and they possibly made eye contact for approximately half a minute and that’s as much as he got. He didn’t understand why Prince Charm— Eliott. He didn’t understand why Eliott had such a huge impact on him.

Lucas was open with his sexuality, his friends and family knew so he came to a firm conclusion that he just found Eliott attractive. Nothing more. He’s just a random, good-looking guy.

A really attractive guy who Lucas will be working with.

Lucas picked at the tight clothing, uncomfortable with how it hugged his body.

He eyed the white button up in the mirror, mentally noting that Disney probably has a legislation where everyone wears tight clothing. It was simple with a dark and beaten up blue vest on top.

It took him an entire week to get a message from the managers at Disney Land to call him in for what they call a ‘test week’. He already dreaded it. Adding to that, they had casted him as Prince Eric from The Little Mermaid. Lucas scoffed at that, he didn’t even have the right colour hair for that, but apparently they had a hair gel which would harmlessly darken his hair just a bit for the time being.

That’s what he’s been struggling with for the past thirty minutes.

“Fuck,” Lucas cursed under his breath as his hand slipped off the cap for probably the tenth time, struggling to pull the damn thing open. He didn’t blame himself for already failing, considering he was scared this unknown cream could possibly damage his hair and he’d inevitably have to shave it all off.

But that’s a problem for later.

Eventually, after many sad attempts, the cap popped open, the small cylindrical container letting out a strong smell. He grimaced and stared down at the dark substance and stood there for a while, running through thoughts on how he could apply this since there was annoyingly no instructions.

He looked himself in the bright bulb-lit mirror before sticking three fingers into the cold gel and scooping some out, carefully inspecting it. After a few hesitant seconds, he tried applying some to the front tips of his hair, making it stick out in a weird direction, and colouring it way more than what they told him.

He stared at his reflection, frustrated. Just as he was about to try again on another part of his head, a voice new to his knowledge spoke.

“That’s not how you do it,” Lucas jumped, turning to the voice, only to have Prince Charming, Eliott, in his peripheral. He was out of the costume Lucas last saw him in, instead in a casual black sweater and dark blue jeans. How did it still look so good on him?

Eliott. In the same room as him. Lucas had to painfully stop himself from gasping to avoid making himself look like an idiot.

“Uh,” Lucas desperately searched for words all whilst eyeing Eliott up and down, avoiding his eyes, “I’ve never used it before.”

Lucas blatantly awarded himself for the lamest reply ever.

“Clearly,” Eliott laughed softly, pushing himself off the door frame and taking a few steps closer, “if you start from the tips it’ll stick them together.”

“Oh,” was all Lucas could muster, steadying his breath as he finally made eye contact, but only for a second before he abruptly turned back to the mirror. He lowkey needed some confirmation that his face wasn’t a bright red.

He could physically feel Eliotts presence, even though he was a few steps away. A few seconds of silence passed before he turned his head back to Eliott, who was staring at Lucas’ hand with an upturn smile.

“You’ve taken way too much,” he gestured to the generous amount of gel in Lucas’ hands before stepping forward and taking a protion of it into his own, his fingers barely brushing against Lucas’, “only a little on the tips.”

Eliott paused for a second, his eyes meeting Lucas’, as if asking for permission before Lucas nodded softly, refraining himself from doing it too desperately and sudden.

The consequences of his action immediately hit him once Eliott stood behind him, the front of his body almost touching the back of Lucas’.

Eliott smoothed some of the gel between both his hands before raising them and softly digging his hands into Lucas’ hair. He started from the roots, gently massaging them into his scalp before going in a repeated upwards motion.

At this point, Lucas didn’t care if this gel were to burn off every last strand. The feeling of Eliotts hands gently tugging and massaging was way too overwhelming.

“My name’s Eliott, by the way,” He smiled into the mirror, looking at Lucas’ reflection and snapping him out of his trance as he works his fingers through the long strands. Lucas completely forgot that Eliott didn’t know his name and frankly didn’t know Lucas knew his name either.

He really needed to get a hold of himself. He’d spoken to the forms solid minute and made eye contact a few times. It was getting overwhelming at this point.

“Lucas.”

“Nice to meet you, Lucas,” Eliott flashed his smile, the sound of Lucas’ name in his endearing voice was something Lucas wanted to hear repeating, “welcome to the team.”

“I’m not officially part of it, though. I just started ‘trial week’ and I’m not doing a very good job at it,” Lucas gestured at his hair, finding the words gradually flowing out naturally.

Eliott scoffed, “You’ll make it, dont worry. They let attractive people in easily,” he mustered easily, shrugging as if his words didn’t almost make Lucas choke on the pure air he was breathing.

He knew Eliott didn’t necessarily mean anything by that. It was just a mutual comment, something nice someone would say to someone else.

But he couldn’t stop replaying it multiple times in his head, mentally checking he wasn’t losing his sanity and he heard him right.

“All done,” Eliott beamed, his lips curving upwards as his eyes crinkle with his smile. He steps back, leaving the comfy atmosphere he’d created with Lucas an examined his work.

Lucas eyed his hair in the mirror, it was styled differently, in a more curly manner, and was undoubtedly darker. He looked at it for only a moment before looking at Eliotts reflection. He was still inspecting his art work with that mesmerising smile. Smiling looked so unfairly good on him. It really made his eyes stand out and his face glowed so much.

“Thank you,” Lucas grinned in the most casual way he could build up, looking back at his own reflection as soon as Eliott made eye contact with him, “I’m pretty sure I would’ve pulled all my hair out on my own.

“Most probably.”

Lucas gathered every once of courage he could pick up and gradually turned his head to make eye contact with Eliott, who was already looking at him with that sickening smile and glistening eyes.

Eliott steps into Lucas’ personal space, again, and lifted his hand to adjust a small portion of hair between two of his fingers, a crooked smirk evident.

It was nothing special or intimate but Lucas’ heart seemed to be racing at the small action.

He was about to say something before the sound of the door swinging open physically pulled them apart, announcing someone’s arrival.

“Fuck, I’ve been looking for you literally everywhere,” a delicate, high pitched voice immediately spoke followed by the sound of heels clicking against the floor.

Eliott rolled his eyes even before turning around to acknowledge the person speaking, which Lucas might add, was oddly attractive.

A girl walked up to the two of them with an exhausted expression. Her dark brown hair was pulled up into a tight pony tail with a lengthy fringe covering her forehead. She had evident cheekbones and long eyelashes.

“Lucille is looking for you,” the girl eyed Eliott with a serious expression, “you can’t keep leaving every time she asks for you.”

“I don’t owe her anything,” Eliott grumbled, his voice dropping several levels than when he was speaking to Lucas.

The girl squinted her eyes, trying to study Eliott for some type of explanation, “Yeah, you do.”

Lucas patiently waited for his presence to be noticed as he watches her deeply sigh, feeling completely lost and out of place. His eyes dart between this random girl and Eliott, attempting to figure out the relationship between them. Just as he was running his eyes up and down the short girl, trying to make sense of her, she turned towards him.

“You’re Basiles friend, yeah?” She nodded towards his way, catching his eyes.

Lucas nodded reluctantly, regretting wanting the attention diverted back to him. He glanced at Eliott who intently had his eyes on Lucas.

The perky girl left Eliotts side, uncomfortably joining Lucas’ atmosphere with a somewhat suggestive smile.

“I’m Chloé,” she reached a hand out to shake.

“Lucas,” he grabbed ahold of her petite hand, throwing a friendly smile in hopes of ending the conversation here.

It doesn’t end there.

He notices her slowly trailing her eyes over his body in the least friendly way possible, clearly showing some sort of interest.

He wanted to look over to Eliott for help, but once he looked over, the boy was already walking away and Lucas immediately missed his presence, knots growing in his stomach.

He figured this girl had something much more important to do rather than checking Lucas out. Plus, he desperately wanted a way out of this awkward situation. He couldn’t help the fact that he didn’t find girls desirable, but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

“Uh, he left,” Lucas points towards the empty space, deciding to let Chloé assume he didn’t know Eliott, “the guy you were looking for.”

She jumped a little, swiftly turning on her heels and acknowledging the missing presence.

“Sorry, I need to get to him,” she apologised sincerely, “but I hope we can talk again sometime.”

Lucas really hopes not, but nonetheless, he nodded, pulling his lips in a tight line as he watched her step backwards and towards the door.

Once she completely left the room, he took a deep breath to recollect himself.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how Eliott looked so much like a Disney Prince throughout the rest of his day.

#axel auriant #eliott demaury #lucas lallemant #elu #maxence danet fauvel #skam #skam fr #skam france #elu fic

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hummingbirdas · 5 years

Text

Neverly: land beyond the horizon

Resume: see pic at the bottom of the post.

Chapter 1: Nice to meet you, your majesty.

The rain ran rapidly down the windows, Angelbelle was looking out at the grey city around the apartment building.

It had been raining for the past week, not that anybody cared. Everyone was busy trying to find out more about the portal that had opened a month ago, on the outskirts of town.

No one really knew where the portal led to, and the government was keeping quite. It was very unnerving, not knowing what was going to happen.

Rumours had it that a creature had walked through the portal, but government officials had taking it to a closed off facility. These rumours had resulted in people talking about the Others, since no one knew their species name, it just became the Others.

Angelbelle and her friend and roommate Lexi had shortly talked about the possibility of what issues the portal could lead to, but mostly they had kept away from the topic. Mason on the other hand had spoken loud and clearly about what he thought was going to happen, and to be honest he was probably right.

As far as Mason was concerned the government was going to do the right thing and try and close the portal, if they for some reason couldn't close it they would most likely start taking a for of taxes for crossing the portal.

The three friends were an odd collection, they didn't really have anything in common but had bonded over their mutual had for the stats foster system.

Lexi and Mason couldn't even be in the same room without arguing, unless Angelbelle was there. They were always careful around her, she was the most fragile of them. Even though Lexi and Angelbelle were the same age, it was clear that they had had different upbringing in the system.

Lexi was stronger minded, because she was outgoing and knew who to befriend right away.

Angelbelle was more quite and shy, always choosing her words carefully. Her anxiety didn't help, it was hard making friends when everytime you felt the least bit comfortable you would start panicking.

The door to the small apartment opened and right away you could hear to voices arguing. Lexi came into the living room first, "guess who the genius is, who forgot his key again?" She was smirking, and clearly happy about seeing Mason embarrassed even if it was only for a short while. "I might have forgotten my key, but at least I didn't forget my brain." Mason shot back instantly, he always had a quick comeback. Angelbelle looked up at both of them from her seat by the window and gave them a sad smile. Mason who had, from the moment he laid eyes on her, always seen it as his responsibility to protect and keep her happy, walked over and put his arms around her.

"Hey Billy baby what's the matter?" He said cautiously not wanting to upset her more. Angelbelle looked away and out at the rain, "it happened again."

Four little words. Four little words without any significant meaning, unless you knew. Unless you knew just how speciel Angelbelle really was.

"What happened this time?" Lexi said, and sat down on the floor by Angelbelles feet. "You are not alone anymore Billy, you can tell us." Lexi gav Billy a small smile, "you can always tell us."

Being so emotional Billy send, without knowing, a wave of energy through the room and picked up by shear energy several books. Without a word she burst into tears, "it's getting worse" she sobbed. "I can't control it anymore."

Mason hugged her close to his chest, and kissed her forehead. Lexi held tightly onto one of her hands, a silent promise of never letting go.

Later in the evening, with the rain continuing to fall, Angelbelle went down the street to her work as a bartender. It was far from the perfect job, but it was the only one she had been able to get. Mostly working on weekdays and avoiding weekend shifts at all costs, seemed to work okay. It was easy during the weekdays, not to many people, and the ones that actually were were not interested in talking.

But tonight something seemed different, maybe it was just because the air was so heavy from the rain or maybe it was something else?

But Billy was sure that if she went into the bar tonight, her life was going to change forever.

It started out normally, like any other night. She served the few customers that were beer, and when she could feel her losing control of her powers, she went out back a couple of minutes. The regular customers had gotten used to her weird little quirks by now, so no one batted an eye of her behaviour. That was just Billy.

But when she got back from a especially hard break, a new face had entered the bar. His long black hair covered his eyes, but what Billy could see of his face was beautiful. She had never seen a man like him before, sure he was handsome and beautiful, like a god, but his whole aura was different from anything she had ever sensed before. Which is why Billy did the only thing she always promised herself she wouldn't, she reached out her power to try and "read" this stranger.

As if sensing her presence around him, the stranger looked up in her direction. Slowly walking towards the bar, and there by Billy, he moved his hair out of the way of his eyes. They were the greenest eyes Billy had ever seen, the were the same colour as the forest in spring. Slowly, as not to scare her, the stranger sat down in one of the barstools. He reached for one of her hands, lifted it to his lips. But instead of kissing the back of her hand like Billy expected, he turned it over and kissed the inside of her palm. And then he spoke, "Nice to meet you, your majesty."

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rauliskafan · 6 years

Text

Mouthpiece or Otherwise

Author’s Note: Here is my entry for the Historical AU Challenge courtesy of the amazing @yourtropegirl!!! Imagine the SVU crew inside a 1920s speakeasy... and the reader has her sights set on a certain ADA nursing a drink in the corner. This was so different for me but also tons of fun!!! Enjoy!!!

“Looking good, Lovely.”

His name was Sonny. A tall, lanky gent from the other side of the tracks. He wore vests that fit his frame and pomade that belied his age. Were the few silver streaks real or part of the show he put on as he decided who came and went at your club?

"So speaks the spiffy sheik," you said. Passing him a few bills and patting his cheek, you gained entrance with ease.

The place... your place was a palace of archways where ice cold whiskey flowed, and saxophones sizzled from the stage. A dark man in white tails forgot to wail for a few seconds when he met your eyes and sauntered to the footlights.

“There's the best set of gams this side of the Hudson!” he said.

“Sweet, Fin,” you said. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“Had to see if there’s something else you want to hear,” he said. “Got any requests?”

You started to speak when you spotted the man of your hour for the first time that night. You’d seen him before. The Brooklyn lawyer by way of Manhattan. Never too proud to pop in for a drink. Word on the street was that he’d been by a lot as of late. And while the two of you had never exchanged a single word, you wanted to know more.

To know why.

“What’s it gonna be?” Fin asked.

“Let’s have a little I May Be Wrong.”

Naturally you hoped that you weren’t and showed Fin a smile when the song started. Listening to the notes that seemed to paint a path towards the farthest corner, you smoothed your hands down the sides of your beaded gown, your sights fixed on the man who downed another drink, his bow tie and vest askew while he listened to the music... and seemed sadder still. Wondering what had shifted in his section of the world, you inhaled a deep breath and---

"Care to be my luck charm tonight, Lovely?"

Your head snapped back, and you found yourself face to face with the brassy blonde in the short black fringe, sporting a feather in her hair.

"Amanda!" you cried, greeting her with a quick hug and peeking over her shoulder to see the chips on the table stacked in her favor. "Doesn't look like you need it. Someone hit a hot streak all on her own."

"Can never have too much of a good thing," she smirked back. "You in?" Tossing the dice between her fingers, you laughed and softly shook your head.

"Another time," you promised.

"I'll be here," she said, blowing on the cubes and tossing the game pieces to the felt.

"Another natural winner!" the dealer said when she rolled a seven even as no one spoke the word aloud. Amanda blew you a kiss, and you set back on your intended course...

...only to meet another interruption.

"How long you going to let that Dumb Dora keep it up?" Liv narrowed her eyes, and you rolled yours... as Amanda tossed the dice again to another wave of rapturous applause. The music grew louder, and the dance floor filled with swaying customers, drinks still in hand.

"How long are you going to play the bluenose, Liv?" you asked. "She's not hurting anyone."

"Tonight," Liv countered. "When it goes South, it's no easy task getting her to scram."

"Which is why I leave my joint in your more than capable hands," you said, touching her shoulder, your breath starting to catch in your throat when you saw your crush in the corner starting to shift in his seat. What was this? Was he getting ready to mooch?

"Last thing we need is another copper here," she said.

"Another?" you curiously asked.

"The sad sack," she said, pointing the man in the rumpled suit who seemed certain to fade if you didn't move fast.

"He's no copper," you said. "Call Sonny if you need help."

"If he's not chatting up a chippy when he should be watching the door," Liv frowned.

"Olivia!" you said, raising your voice as she took a step back. You patted her arms and forced a smile. "Have a drink. Cool it with the heebie jeebies."

"I don't drink on the job," she said.

"Which makes you the right dame for some things and a flat tire for others."

Taking the hint, she finally let you pass, and you raced forward just in time to see the man on his feet.

And you quickly reached for his arm.

"Hey! Going somewhere?"

He seemed stunned by your touch, and you thought you saw the smallest of smiles before his face fell and his shoulders sagged.

"Fancy meeting you here," he said, his speech slightly slurred. Which sent a rush of blood from the tips of your toes to the top of your head.

"Well it is my gin mill," you said. "And someone seems to like the scenery.”

"Someone needed a drink," he said.

"Makes sense," you said, easing him back to his seat and heaving a sigh of relief when he sat even as he hung his head. “Man in your line of work.”

"I'm on the lam," he said.

"Oh?" you asked, your curiosity piqued as he scrubbed a single hand over his face, tapping his other set of fingers on the tabletop. Fin switched to another song as the dance changed to rocking feet and swinging arms.

"Yes, I..." He stopped short, shaking his head and looking like he wanted to leave again.

"It'd bore you," he said.

"Try me," you challenged, daring to reach for his hand, liking the feel of his long fingers lacing with yours as he slowly lifted his head to meet your eyes.

"What do you think you know about me?" he asked.

"The basics," you replied. "You're a mouthpiece. You like your hooch."

"The two aren't mutually exclusive," he said.

"Thank God for that or the place wouldn't be packed every night."

You felt his palm relax a little in yours, but you waited and watched him, strands of swirling smoke from every lit gasper making him look like a man born in the mist, trying to break free from the haze...

...or possibly fall back into it?

"So what's the scoop?" you asked. "Some gumshoe crumb the play? Or a canary didn't sing?"

"No," he continued. "Can't lay this at anyone else's feet. This... this is all on me."

For a fleeting second, you wondered what he might have done? Was he a fakeloo or something far worse? All you had to do was whistle once, and Liv would make her way to your side. No need for Sonny; she could toss him out on her own if the man had dirt or something deeper, redder embedded about his soul.

"Do... do you know what happens to a man in my line of work when he drops the dime?"

"Isn't that the kind of thing you want?" you carefully asked. "Someone to inform on the bad eggs?"

"Not what happened here," he said. You could sense him wanting to say so much more when he clammed up and said he needed to drift.

"Rafael?"

It was the first time that you uttered his name aloud, having spoken it in your sleep, waking with the syllables and a smile still on your lips.

"You know my name," he said.

"Gotta keep the clientele straight," you said. "Something you want to talk about?"

Again, he looked like he wanted to spill, but you could sense his hesitation as the crowd grew, and Amanda roared after she rolled a Hard 10 for another point. He would be a goner if you didn't...

"Come with me."

Keeping a firm hold on his hand, you led him away from the song and the smoke until you hit the first available backroom. He hesitated when you patted the space beside you on the plush velvet couch, and you held your breath until he finally sat.

"Better?" you asked.

"A little," he said. "But... I mean I could use another---"

"I always carry a spare," you smiled. Reaching for your garter belt, you unveiled a flask and saw his green eyes grow wide when you took a sip before passing the bottle his way.

"Share and share alike," you said.

"You keep the prime merchandise for yourself?" he asked.

"I drink the same as my customers," you said, wanting to take offense. But in a different light he seemed so earnest, miles away from all wet. And playing the high hat was far from your style.

"Imbibe, Mr. ADA," you urged.

"Not for much longer," he said with a swift sip.

"Seriously?”

“I shouldn’t---”

“Come on. You going to get a wiggle on or what?"

You punctuated each word with one hand stroking his thigh and bit your lower lip until he took a deep breath.

And the words poured out.

"There was this kid," he started. "Skinny as a rail. Not a match to strike. And he... he robbed a place very much like this."

"Really," you carefully said. "Why would that be a bad thing? Thought it might help your sort out."

"Not when the fella running that joint is in the DA's back pocket," he said. "So they want to make this kid the fall guy for a whole lot of things that he played no part in. Makes the medicine go down easier for everyone."

"But not sitting right with you," you said.

"Sticks right in my craw," he confessed. "They gave me a choice; play the pushover or be put out to pasture."

"And someone selected the latter," you knowingly said, realizing that it was more than the way he looked with a glass in hand. You were nothing if not a good judge of character, and this man, mouthpiece or otherwise, was the cat's meow because he was a darb in a world of double-crosses.

"I'm sorry," you said, taking his hand again. "But it's just ducky that you came here to get fried."

"Not quite half seas over yet," he said. "Getting there."

"Gives us more time to talk," you said.

"What about?"

Where to start? He'd hit your heart on all sixes the second you laid eyes on him. Joe Brooks with It and so much more in your juice joint. The man knew his onions, the Real McCoy when it came to conscience and compassion. You wanted that in your life. To see where it led. To taste a different flavor than the swells who might take you for a ride, the torpedoes you had to dodge more often than not. But first things first; let him see that you were on the level, that this was a chance for something special. And if the middle aisle was in the cards down the line...?

"Rafael, how'd you like to work for me?" you asked.

"You?" he echoed.

"Could use someone hip to the jive. And before you object, know this; I've had an earful of the cats you described. On both sides of the cooler. Wouldn't you love to find a way to beat them all at their own game?"

You watched him mull over the proposition. Would he take the bait? Or give you the bum's rush?

"They... they call you Lovely, right?"

"My friends do. Are we friends, Rafael?"

Finishing the flask, he passed it back into your free hand and finally flashed a full smile.

"Yes, Lovely. And I'm listening."

#raúl esparza #rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #historicalauchallenge #1920s #speakeasy #dominick sonny carisi #fin tutuola #amanda rollins #olivia benson #law & order: svu #svu fanfiction

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jisungsmochi · 6 years

Text

I Can’t Remember - Ong Seongwoo (college!au)

Here’s another installment of my wanna one x 5sos lyrics series!

(lyrics are in itallics)

words: 2.5k

college!au

OK LETS GET IT

“Hey pretty girl” Ong Seongwoo approached you while you were walking to your next class on campus. You knew who he was, you would be living under a rock if you didn’t. He and his friends were almost the kings of the campus. They threw the wildest parties, and overall had a reckless reputation. But not every person in the group was the same, otherwise you would never be friends with Hwang Minhyun. He was the one you felt had at least some idea on how to stay focused on actual school work. So when Seongwoo approached you, you had no idea how to react, you had never spoken to him before, despite being mutual friends with Minhyun, and you had no classes with him either. His personality seemed a bit too extreme for you, maybe that’s why you didn’t associate with him. It wasn’t like you hated him, you had no reason to, you just knew your personalities wouldn’t match that well.

“What’s your name?” he asked, placing himself so that his arms brushed against yours.

“it’s y/n” you bluntly answered while looking at the ground.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Ong seongwoo and while we’re conversing, what’s your number?” he slyly slipped into the conversation.

“I’m sorry, what?” you looked up at him for the first time since he started talking to you.

“what’s your number, there’s a party tonight, you can come if you wanna! I even have the keys to my dad’s yellow Hummer!” he explained quite quickly, leaving you more confused.

“I’m sorry, but I barely even know you, and parties aren’t my thing” you declined, feeling bad you turned down his offer after he kindly asked.

“Oh, it’s okay, maybe you’ll change your mind. Here’s the details though. See you around” he awkwardly smiled at you before walking away. You sighed softly, maybe he didn’t have such a big ego as people expected.

You were having your next class with Minhyun. While the teacher was writing notes on the board, you leaned over to him.

“Psst, one of your friends asked me to go to a party tonight.” You told him.

He looked at you with a blank expression before saying “and I’m guessing that was Seongwoo. Look, you don’t have to go, but I think you’ll have fun. And besides, Seongwoo doesn’t just simply invite people in person, he usually just sends a mass text to the invite list.” Minhyun explained to you. You were even more curious now. Why did Seongwoo only invite you in person? Even when he didn’t even know you that well.

“do you think it’s weird that he asked me?” you tried to find some perfect explanation.

“sort of. But you shouldn’t worry about it, just come. You’ll have fun and meet some new people. I’ll be there if you wanna leave, and I’ll walk you back to your dorm” Minhyun offered, giving you an encouraging smile. He seemed convincing enough.

“Okay fine, I’ll go. But don’t tell Seongwoo, it’s going to be a surprise” you chuckled to yourself, causing Minhyun to just nod along. Maybe you’ll have fun after all.

“Took a minute but I found my mates,

she was there acting cool

so we made her wait.”

Seongwoo showed up to the party later than the rest of his friends. He had been driving around in his dad’s yellow hummer, picking up alcohol and other party supplies they needed. Once he arrived, he instantly laid his eyes on you. You were standing next to Minhyun, with a cup of sprite in your hand and your arms folded as Minhyun was talking about his plans for the night, which consisted of taking care of the other boys. Seongwoo nervously walked up to the group of boys and you, greeting each boy. Once he reached you, he couldn’t speak. You gave him an odd look before greeting him instead,

“Hey, how are you?” you asked awkwardly, causing him to smile.

“I’m pretty well, I thought you said you weren’t coming” he continued.

“yeah, but I had a change of mind” you explained.

“You wanted to see me again, didn’t you?” his comment caused you to blush, you were flustered and didn’t know how to reply. He just laughed along, and shook his head.

“and may I just say, you look amazing” he whispered in your ear, causing you to look at him with your mouth agape. He laughed even louder at your expression.

You smacked his shoulder lightly before rolling your eyes.

The night was just getting started.

The night took many different twists and turns. Daniel and Sungwoon were dancing on tables, while Minhyun were smacking their feet in order for them to come down. Jisung and Jaehwan were observing Woojin and Guanlin playing ping pong using their heads. Daehwi was on the dance floor, challenging random people to have a dance battle. Jinyoung was recording him because he ended up dance battling a pot plant. Jihoon on the other hand was pouring water into people cups and telling them it was vodka, to see if they would act drunk. While all of this was happening, you were sitting outside of the reckless house, with no other than Ong Seongwoo.

You two had been talking for a while, just getting to know each other. While you were happily sipping on your 4th cup of sprite, he was downing whatever alcoholic substance he had been consuming throughout the night. You felt like you were dragging him away from the party, but he wouldn’t leave your side.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go and party?” you urged him slowly.

“But I like talking to you” he looked up at you, not saying anything else.

You didn’t know how to reply, but as you were about to open your mouth, Guanlin interrupted you.

“Um yeah sorry to interrupt, but Seongwoo, Jaehwan got his head stuck in a vase again. We don’t wanna break it because we know it’s your mum’s and like, what should we do?” Guanlin stuttered, feeling embarrassed of the situation.

“Oh for god’s sake, Jaehwan. I’m sorry but I’ll be right back” he spoke to you, you nodding in reply. He rushed up and ran into the house. You looked at your phone and saw it was only 10pm. You decided to find Minhyun and give him a break from controlling all those kids.

After Seongwoo was forced to smash his mother’s vase in order to get Jaehwan’s head out. He completely forgot you were outside waiting for him. Instead, his friends were offering him drinks to thank him for his sacrifice. Seongwoo skulled down the drinks, immediately feeling the after effects. He screamed at the top of his lungs and made his way to the dance floor, going absolutely ballistic.

Meanwhile you were outside with Minhyun, talking about your time with Seongwoo.

“So was I right? You had fun tonight, didn’t you?” he smirked, softly nudging you as you sat at the door step of the house.

“I hate it when you’re always right, but yes, I did have fun. Seongwoo is an interesting person, to say the least” you chuckled. Minhyun nodded in agreement.

“Does this mean that you likeeee him?” Minhyun teased. You shoved him hard, causing him to spill some of his drink.

“I don’t like him like that! He’s just good company!” you defended.

“Alright, whatever you say” Minhyun rolled his eyes at your response.

The next few events seemed almost unbelievable.

It wasn’t until the next morning, where everything had to be pieced together.

The 11 boys were scattered all over the house, falling asleep on the oddest places. Daniel and Sungwoon were laying on the kitchen counters with left over snacks surrounding them. Jihoon and Guanlin were asleep in the laundry, Guanlin laying on top of the washing machine as Jihoon found a comfy spot on the tiled floor. Woojin fell asleep in one of the storage closets, Seongwoo had in his house, using random items to use as a blanket and pillow. Jinyoung and Daehwi were passed out in the living room, but rather than laying on the couches, the boys’ bodies were distorted into some awkward positions as they laid on the carpeted floor. Jaehwan fell asleep while sitting on the toilet, he wasn’t using it, he was simply waiting until he sobered up, so he could go find a spare room to sleep in, but eventually just dozed off while sitting upright. And as expected, Jisung and Minhyun gained access to a guest bedroom and fell asleep peacefully.

As for Seongwoo.

There was a bit of a situation.

He woke up in his own bed, but he was lying next to you.

“Last night what a blur,

woke up lying next to her,

last night, made a mess

doesn’t get better than this”

Seongwoo’s eyes widened at the sight of you peacefully lying next to him, cuddled up with one of his pillows. You were dressed in one of his shirts, making him look at his own body to see that he himself didn’t have a shirt on. This made him worry even more. Did you and him do something last night? Did you, you know, do the deed? There were so many things going through his head. He wanted to ask you himself but felt bad if he woke you up. Instead he checked his phone, he had 25 texts and a call from his mum. Last night must have been good, because Seongwoo really can’t remember a thing.

Seongwoo made his way to his bathroom, to see Jaehwan sitting on his toilet. Seongwoo let out a high shriek, causing Minhyun and Jisung to wake up from the guest bedroom next door.

“What the hell?” Seongwoo groaned, pushing Jaehwan’s shoulder, who instantly woke up.

“Dude I’m sorry, I lost track of time and I was tired and ugh, wait. Bro, where’s your shirt?” Jaehwan questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Ah, shit. I-it’s none of your business!” Seongwoo defended. At this point, Minhyun and Jisung were at the bathroom door.

“For god sakes Jaehwan, pull yourself together!” Jisung sighed before pulling the younger boy with him, downstairs.

Minhyun eyes Seongwoo up and down, realising that he was only in his boxers at this point.

“Minhyun! What the hell happened last night?!” Seongwoo frantically asked, pulling at his hair and pacing back and forth.

“You really don’t remember?” Minhyun chuckled lightly.

“No! and I’ve got the biggest headache, I need aspirin, my head’s killing me” Seongwoo opened the bathroom cabinet and pulled out some aspirin. Minhyun just rolled his eyes at the clueless boy and went downstairs to meet the rest.

Seongwoo groaned loudly, chasing Minhyun down the stairs.

“Tell me what happened!!” he yelled while skipping down the stairs, meeting the rest of the boys.

The boys were now all staring at Seongwoo, still in just his boxers, and laughed hysterically.

“Gosh you’re a mess” Daniel snickered, slapping Seongwoo on the shoulder.

“Hey, who was that girl from last night anyway?” Daniel further commented, causing the other boys to giggle in response.

“who? Y/n? WHAT DID WE DO? SOMEONE TELL ME!” Seongwoo spoke harshly.

“We didn’t DO anything” they all turned to see you at the bottom of the stairs, in Seongwoo’s shirt and shorts.

“Well, we didn’t do anything like what you’re intending” you sighed, crossing your arms as you joined the boys.

They were all speechless. You dragged Seongwoo upstairs again, back into his bedroom to explain everything. He secretly liked how you held his hand while dragging him up the stairs. You closed the door behind you, he took a seat on his bed while you sat across from him.

“you got really drunk last night” you started, not looking into his eyes.

“I think we had established that” he chuckled lightly, trying to make the air not so tense.

“Seongwoo, you went streaking passed your neighbour’s house! Someone was going to post it on Facebook. And if our professors see something like that, you could be in huge trouble” you began to explain. That would be a reason why he didn’t have a shirt on, sort of.

Seongwoo placed his head in his hands, unable to look at you at the moment.

You sighed before patting his shoulder, “But luckily you have the best friends on the planet. Daniel and Woojin went to beat up the dudes who were going to post it” you tried to relieve him. Seongwoo just nodded, not saying a word.

You felt awful that he was embarrassed of his actions. You pulled his hands from his face and held them in your lap. He looked up at you finally before saying

“I’m usually not like this. I know I party hard but I wouldn’t do this normally. There isn’t any excuse for my behaviour” he shamed himself, tears almost falling from his eyes. You sighed softly before further explaining.

“Do you know what you did for me last night?” he gave you a confused look before shaking his head, your hands still holding his.

“I got a bit tipsy myself, and you were the same, not as drunk as earlier. I kept complaining that I was cold in my dress and that I needed someone to hold me” you began, his smirked when you mentioned someone holding you.

“And you decided to literally take off your shirt and give it to me to change into, right in the middle of the dance floor in front of everyone. I appreciated it a lot because you did it so instantly! You also gave me a pair of these really cool basketball shorts which are comfortable as heck by the way!” you giggled softly at the entire situation, causing him to smile widely at you.

“and that’s why you’re still in boxers and I was next to you, because you held me through the rest of the night, and I appreciate it very much”

before he could say anything back, you pressed your lips against his, pushing him down on the bed, laying on top of him. His eyes widened with disbelief. He was really kissing you? You were kissing him? It seemed like a dream.

You pulled away shyly, pushing yourself off him. But he decided to pull you back down, looking at you softly.

“I really like you” he almost blurts out, still smiling like an idiot at you.

“I really like you too” you whisper before pecking his cheek lightly and pulling yourself away from him, sitting upright.

“I just have one question” he smirked at you, making you feel a little uneasy.

“sure” you shrugged it off.

“did you like the video of me streaking?” he winked at you before bursting into laughter. You hit him on the shoulder playfully as your face started burning red.

Gosh was he gonna be a handful.

#ong seongwoo #ong #seongwoo #ong seongwoo imagine #wanna one imagine #wanna one scenario #ong seongwoo scenario #fluff #kpop imagine

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thearrangment-phff · 7 years

Text

V. I Am Yours

June 2016

Isabella and Harry met again in the middle of June after the Queen's birthday parade before he had other things to do. It was really his time off for that entire month and he was suggested by Ed and his father to spend it with Isabella. She had made them a nice steak dinner, but their nice dinner was really watching another horror flick on Isabella's small couch.

They mostly ate in silence and Isabella's occasional jump had made Harry become tense. It wasn't the movie that scared him, rather just her. When the movie was over she had looked at him with such a sad smile.

"When am I going to meet your family?"

Harry didn't really have an answer. He knew he would have to introduce Isabella to his family sooner than later, but it still really didn't cross his mind, "Well... I don't really know."

"What about Christmas? Will we spend it separated?" Asked Isabella.

He didn't have an answer to that either, "Do you want to spend it in London?"

"Well no... I'll most likely be in Belgium or Luxembourg this year. It's a great way to meet the family that's all," answered Isabella.

"Do you want me to be with you?" Asked Harry.

Isabella stayed silent thinking of her own words, making sure they made sense and not come off the wrong way, "Well I don't want to take you away from your family on such a family event. I just thought Christmas is a good time to meet the family that's all."

Now she was afraid she sounded like an idiot, "Well... I'm spending most of July in Africa so we won't see each other. When I come back to London in August you could meet the family."

Isabella nodded, "In September my Godfather's uncle, he's a Prince of Liechtenstein, and he's having a party for his birthday, some of my family is going to be there," She exhaled knowing she was rambling and he gave a small smile to know everything was alright, but that smile just made things worse, "and we have to make it seem real so I wanted to know if you would go with me."

Harry opened his mouth ready to give an answer only to be stopped by his own brain because he didn't have an answer. Isabella interrupted him, "It's a one-night stay type of thing! Get there, go to the party, and leave in the morning. We would have to share a room that is but I'm sure we can work something out if you say yes."

Except Harry didn't exactly say yes. His head had betrayed the rest of his body since he couldn't make a sound, and nodded at Isabella's words. She gave him a smile in return, excited at the news, "Oh thank you! You have no idea how horrible for me if I didn't have someone."

There was a small silence, "Why?"

"My godfather, Alois, terribly rich, like billionaire rich and head of state and all. His son knows fully well what he's going to inherit. When I was younger, my godfather tried to get me to date his son. My grandmother pushed too, saying I would be a Princess of Liechtenstein and all. Then I met his son. He’s not such bad guy in the large world of bad guys but something just never clipped between us," explained Isabella before making a disgusted face and in turn made Harry laugh.

"So he wanted to date you. Everyone wanted you to date him. And, let me guess... you didn't want to date him."

Isabella laughed at him, "Yup. At the time I had fallen in love with this American boy and thought he was the one. You can imagine the shock that we never got together. He did try and still does. But now I have a boyfriend who I can flaunt to everyone."

"You want to make him jealous?"

Isabella immediately shook her head, "To make him jealous would indicate that I had some feelings for him. I don't. Never did. Having our little arrangement means everyone will stop pressuring to marry one of them," snapped Isabella at the end.

"Pressuring you? Isn't that exactly what this is?" Asked Harry with a raised eyebrow making Isabella groan.

"Okay, that's different! Our arrangement was mutually agreed on by both parties. I never agreed to date a Liechtenstein boy or man. Therefore, our situation is different."

"So what do you want me to do?"

That simple question made Isabella groan mentally inside. One reason those words came from him and the second reason being she didn't have the answer, "… I don't know.... be yourself? You're like walking sex so breathing would be fine."

Harry couldn't believe what she called him and laughed, "Did you just call me walking sex?"

"I did. The beard helps by the way. Look, we need to act like a couple and all so these little party things my family has will be a great way to test things out," explained Isabella.

"Test what out? How to act around each other?"

"Yes. You can't look at me like you hate me, you need to look at me like you're in love with me. You need my family, your family, and the damn rest of the world think we are in love and ready to get married. I am not about to spend the next 40 years with someone I loathe because they choose to remain emotionless in this arrangement."

"Do you want us to fall in love? Do you believe that we could somehow fall in love in all this mess?" Asked Harry.

"I do think we can come to like each other as friends to make this whole thing a lot easier," replied Isabella.

"Why become friends in this arranged marriage if you've already thought about divorce with no ring on your finger?" Asked Harry making more sense than he even knew.

"Oh please! Me asking for that is more for personal control in a situation where I have no control. I am obligated to marry you now because I said yes and followed my father. I am obligated to have your children because despite this mess I do want children and if I'm going to spend decades with you by my side might as well since I've had a biological clock on me for what seems like forever. I will stay by your side and dote upon you like the proper 15th-century wife. The purpose of our marriage is to make you look better, you do understand that right?" Asked Isabella in a huff.

God, he was going to make things more complicated. He couldn't even find words to say whatever he was thinking, which was also a jumbled mess, "From the moment our arrangement was agreed upon I am yours," added Isabella.

Those last words got to him. Those last three words are something even Isabella didn't think about saying. Harry lightly shook his head, "You aren't mine Isabella. It would be best to not make something more of this whole problem."

"Truly? That's what you want? To spend this next half a century going through the motions?" Asked Isabella in slight anger.

Harry nodded at her.

September 2016

He regretted that night. Isabella made an excuse of getting a stomach virus causing him to leave the next day. Then she made an excuse of being too sick to meet his family. He hadn't spoken to Isabella in a solid two months. When Charles had called Christian to clear things over on behalf of Harry, Christian had said what Harry was told, Isabella was simply sick. Charles had even tried Isabella's mother, Marie Astrid, only to be told the same thing.

"What did you do?" Asked Charles.

"Nothing. We were talking and she got upset," replied Harry in a defending tone.

"Obviously it hurt her. So, I advise you to fix whatever you did."

"I'm supposed to apologize because she got her feelings hurt?"

"Yes! Yes, you are. You are going to marry this girl Harry. You aren't going to back out of this. She was more than willing to try at this, at least do the same," replied Charles.

Harry had tried. He called and texted and finally, he did get a hold of her. He apologized, she accepted, and everything seemed fine. Harry flew to Geneva, then he and Isabella drove to Liechtenstein in an almost 5-hour car ride of silence. Isabella explained the party would be held at one of many castles belonging to the Prince of Liechtenstein.

Isabella looked tired and she had an occasional cough making Harry think she wasn't lying about being sick. Then again who's sick for 2 months? The ride was silent for the most part driving Harry mad. He flew from London to Geneva only to sit in a car for 5 hours driving to this tiny country he forgot existed in all honesty.

When they arrived Isabella and Harry were greeted by four older men, later introduced as Prince Rudolf Ferdinand of Liechtenstein, his father Prince Philipp Erasmus of Liechtenstein, Hans-Adams, Prince of Liechtenstein, and his son Alois, Hereditary Prince of Liechtenstein and Isabella's godfather.

Only Hans-Adams and Alois greeted her with a hug, something she did not mind. Harry had stayed behind her seeing as he didn't know any of them. He was introduced to several other people, and he knew they were somehow related to Isabella.

Harry paid no attention to his surroundings until a squeak escaped Isabella's lips and as was being lifted off the group in a hug by some blonde man. She giggled at the contact, something he hadn't heard in a long time. They talked in another language and Harry forgot that Isabella could speak multiple languages.

There was another boy keeping his distance, only giving Isabella a nod instead of a hug, "Harry this is my cousin, Josef-Emanuel. Josef, this is Harry, my boyfriend," smiled Isabella.

"Boyfriend? Who gave you permission to date?" Harry noted the thick German accent making Isabella laugh.

"I don't need anyone's permission you baboon. Besides, when did you tell me your dating that pretty German countess?" Snapped Isabella making her cousin pick up his hands in defeat.

"Okay. No permission needed. Don't forget to say hi to Marie Astrid and Anunciata! They kill me if they knew I saw you first and didn't send you their way."

Harry watched as both men walked away, "Your mother is here?" Marie Astrid was the only name he recognized.

"Oh no! My cousin, by my aunt Margaretha, is named Marie Astrid as well. Complicated, I know. I have several relatives named Zita, Marie Astrid, and Maria Astrid. A family name that's all." Harry nodded at her words, "Come. Josef told me our rooms are ready."

Harry followed Isabella up the stairs and into the first room he saw. His eyes scanned the room wanting to ask questions but were interrupted by two tall blonde women bursting in, speaking what he thought, was German.

It didn't take long before the women were staring at him. Isabella had laughed at whatever one of them had said and placed her hands on each of their back taking them to the door. They waved as Harry and winked as they left, "Those were my cousins Marie Astrid and Maria Anunciata. They have a tendency to walk in here at any moment like right now, so fair warning."

"The guy behind your cousin Josef, was that your godfather's son?" Isabella looked at him confused by his question.

"Why would you think that?"

"He didn't even try and touch you. He didn't look too pleased when you announced I was your boyfriend either."

"Yes, that's him. Hopefully, we don't have to deal with him too much."

Harry hesitated to ask any questions, but in the end, he decided that he needed to, "Do you want us to act like a couple in front of everyone?"

Isabella looked at him immediately, "No. There's no need."

Next Chapter

#PHFF #Prince Harry Fanfiction #Prince Harry Fanfic #Royal Fanfiction #Fanfiction #Royal Fanfic

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melodramatic3rdwheel · 7 years

Text

One Awful Voltron Library AU

Chapter One: In Which Everything Is Just Set Up

“I honestly don’t get why we have to do this,” Keith crossed his arms and sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair directly across from Shiro. “I already spend all of my free time here and you said that you would just give me the job if it would make me shut up about not having any cash.”

Shiro gave an annoyed sigh, having answered this question a thousand times before. “It’s a formality, Keith, just like it has been for the last hundred times you asked.”

“Can we get on with this ‘formality’ then?”

They made their way through the routine questions of any basic part-time job interview. Most of Keith’s answers were sarcastic. He was sure he would get the job, he was the only candidate and his brother was the one hiring him.

Shiro was the manager of the Altea Library, he made all the decisions on who got hired and who didn’t. Since everyone that worked there was all the original staff like Shiro, and they just now decided they needed another shelver, Shiro made the kind decision to extend a job offer to Keith. Shiro was so sick of Keith’s whining about not having any money that he did something he rarely ever did, he gave Keith a free pass. Sure it was a cruddy job at a dinky library full of dusty old books, but it got Keith glorious, glorious minimum wage. It also got Shiro the notion of Keith not borrowing money every time he wanted a soda and never paying him back. Keith owed Shiro almost two hundred dollars, so really, it got Shiro minimum wage.

“Well congratulations, Keith, you got the job, welcome to the team.” Shiro extended his arm for a handshake, still playing at this actually being legit in anyway.

“What a surprise.” Keith took his hand and shook it. He was grateful, so he humored Shiro. “When do I start?”

“Now, obviously”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lance and Hunk leaned over Pidge’s shoulders and peered at her monitor, which was tapped into the security feed of Shiro’s office. The security cameras were almost never used for anything other than Pidge nosing around in other people's’ business, and even less often were the ones in Shiro’s office used, especially if Allura was there.

“That’s him! I’m sure of it!” Lance pointed at the screen, the tip of his finger just barely touching it. He really didn’t have to point Hunk and Pidge knew who he was talking about.

“Fingers. Off. The. Fucking. Screen.” Pidge smacked his hand away.

“Yeah, sorry.” Now normally Lance would have put his entire hand on the screen, but rule number one of working at the library was don’t fuck with Pidge. Nobody spoke of the last guy who broke rule number one.

“Are you sure Lance? The video’s pretty grainy. They don’t really look related anyway.” Hunk said. They all knew that Shiro’s brother would be interviewed that day. They didn’t know that he was going to get the job no matter what.

“I’d recognize that mullet anywhere.” Shiro and Keith went through the interview.

“That Keith guy seems really disinterested in this. There’s no way he’s getting the job.” Hunk said, now sitting on the floor. He was the only one watching the video feed at this point. Pidge was doing some homework and Lance was painting his nails a nice turquoise blue.

“No way, seriously?”

“What’s up bro?” Lance asked, not even looking up.

“He got the job. And they’re leaving the office right now, so you should probably get to the counter.”

“Ah shit.” Lance got up and didn’t even bother to close the nail polish bottle.

“You’re gonna stink up my room with this shit!” Pidge yelled. She closed her math book and got up. “Nepotism at its finest, Hunk. Now get out.” Hunk grabbed the nail polish Lance abandoned and left Pidge’s office.

“So, looking forward to having a new shelving buddy since I upgraded to Master of All Things that Need Fixing?” Hunk gently placed the nail polish next to Lance and leaned on the counter.

“Was until I found out who it was going to be.”

“It can’t be that bad. I mean-”

“And this is the Main Floor.” Shiro walked in, Keith in tow.

“I know where all this stuff is already.” Keith grumbled.

“I know, I was just looking forward to the tour. But…. you don’t know your co-workers!” Shiro turned to Lance’s counter and led Keith over. “Keith, this is Hunk, he’s the maintenance guy.”

“Hey Keith, nice to meet you. And I prefer Master of All Things that Need Fixing, thanks.”

“In that back room is Pidge, you’ll meet her eventually. Probably.”

“HI OR WHATEVER” Pidge yelled from the other room.

“And this is Lance, he’ll tell you what to do. You know, if he would stop painting his nails when he’s supposed to be watching the counter and thinks I won’t notice. That’s a nice color by the way.”

“No one was here. And we’ve already met.”

“We have?” Keith looked Lance up and down, then focused on his face. “When?”

Lance stood up straighter and hopped over the counter. “Uh, we were rivals all through Freshman year? We were competing for top of the class? Lance and Keith? Keith and Lance?”

Keith gave Lance a blank stare. He had no idea what Lance was talking about.

Shiro broke the silence after a few seconds, “Well, I have paperwork to do, Lance, show Keith what he’ll have to do.” He then turned on his heel and left back down into the basement where his office was.

“Didn’t realize Allura had her name changed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lance was miffed that Keith didn’t remember him. HIM. Lance thought they had a mutual understanding of their rivalry, but apparently not. Apparently Keith was oblivious to not only their rivalry, but Lance’s existence.

“So are you going to tell me what to do or…?” Keith trailed off expecting Lance to do something. His glowering was starting to get awkward.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go.” Lance’s words were short. He already didn’t like the idea of working with Keith, but now it was worse. He walked three paces ahead of Keith, eager to be done. “So you shelve books when you get here, then one of us will man the counter while the other continues to keep everything orderly. You can do the counter. I hate standing around with nothing to do. You already know the layout of this place, so I’m not going to show you around. Any questions?”

“Yeah, mainly, how do you work anything?” Keith was getting annoyed. He didn’t know who the guy was. He sort of recognized him from his math class in Freshman year? He certainly didn’t remember ever talking to him. But this guy was getting all mad, taking it personally. “And also why do you hate me?”

Lance walked back to the counter, Keith in tow. “This is the scanner, you scan books with it.” He quickly demonstrated how to use it for checking out and returning books. “This is the computer, when you scan a card, the person’s file will come up, you’ll see if they owe anything. If they owe more than two dollars in late fees, they can’t check out a new book. That’s really all you need to know. If you have any computer questions, talk to Pidge, she’s our IT girl. If you find anything broken, tell Hunk. Here’s some books to shelve. Bye.”

“Uh, how are any of these books organized?”

Lance smacked his palms on the counter. “God damn it, can’t you do anything by yourself?” Lance grabbed the books and stormed off, leaving Keith. He stopped abruptly and turned. “Well come on, you need to learn how to do your job.”

Lance continued to harbor his grudge all afternoon. He was angry leaving work. He was angry getting on the bus. He was angry all evening when he was babysitting his little siblings while his parents worked their hides off to feed them. He was angry getting into bed that night. Why did it bother him so much that one asshole he never talked to didn’t remember him? He thought for sure that Keith would. He wanted Keith to remember him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Keith was confused. A little annoyed that his new co-worker hated him for not remembering a rivalry they didn’t have, but mostly confused.

On the ride home from the library Keith asked, “Shiro, does Lance normally hate everyone?”

“No. He’s usually pretty chill. Why?”

“He sure did seem to hate me. And I don’t even know why! He acted like he knew me. I’ve never even spoken to him before today!” Keith was getting more angry by the second. He wanted to enjoy this job, or at least not hate it. Now this idiot Lance was ruining any chance of that happening.

“Maybe you just forgot? You don’t really pay a lot of attention to other people unless they’re talking right to you.”

“Yeah I guess. Thanks for hooking me up with the job, by the way.”

“No problem, anything for my little brother.”

The rest of the ride was quiet. Keith tried to remember Freshman year. He remembered seeing Lance around school every now and then, but he saw so many faces in a day that he didn’t register. Keith spent the rest of the night thinking about it.

Then it hit him. That annoying kid in Geometry. The one who always was staring at that girl, Nyma, was it? He was always saying something about grades or being the best or whatever. Keith still didn’t remember talking to him ever. But he didn’t really talk to anyone in ninth grade, especially a kid like Lance, annoying, loud, class clown Lance McClain.

#klance #laith #voltron #fluff #angst #fanfic

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old-long-john · 7 years

Note

(1/8)Oh my good golly gosh darn, Laura!!!! I would drown in your words if I could. That bit from your unfinished fic, I'm in awe. I am completely smitten with your interpretation of Silver. I wish I could articulate a response to your answers besides !!!!! (Also you're a saint for humoring me.) I could listen and talk to you about John Silver all day. You touched on some really good points in previous answers that I didn't acknowledge, so I'd like to address some of them now because wow.

You do such a good job unpacking the minutiae in each scene, but then I feel the need to further explicate your meta because you bring up so many brilliant points. 1.“Funny that Silver’s learnt so much shit from Flint, except that allowing yourself to be blinded to rationality and truths is a ruinous mistake.” God this ties in so well to our discussion of Silver believing his own bullshit. It’s almost as though he learned the wrong lesson from Flint and became more accomplished at lying to himself as the story goes on. Or perhaps those untruths just kept piling up.

So very true. Honestly, I think so much of it is due to Silver letting himself get too comfortable in the little bubble he’d created for himself. And I feel so awful for him, because it was always going to have to pop in the end. He’s always been so good at reading people and at manipulating situations for his own gain, and he seemed to be incredibly honest with himself (and others) about his own failings and limitations, and those things are fine when nobody depends on you and you don’t depend on anybody else. But as soon as he developed loyalties and relationships, and with them wants and needs that he couldn’t provide for himself alone (love and friendship and respect), it suddenly wasn’t very convenient to be honest with himself about his own shortcomings or the things which the only two members of the John Silver’s People Club would value as more important than him. Because I completely believe he valued(/still values?) them more than anything else in the entire world. It’s such a horrible imbalance to face honestly and accept.

2.“Not much slips by Flint” lmao except a big cache full of gems on his own damn ship. Sorry I just had to bring that up. I feel like that was one of those leaps of faith the show expects us to take, and I just can’t. I still can’t believe Flint didn’t know the cache was on board the Walrus.

Mm, I know what you mean. Though I can make it work in my own head. Flint is such a micro-manager, but he has been far more relaxed this season in general. I mean, he went off on his little Fortress B&B break with Eleanor and trusted Silver to make everything work in his absence, with no plan given. But that’s part of the problem. Even if Silver was wrong about Flint’s investment in their friendship, and in his assertion that it was only a convenience insofar as it helped him to use Silver to have things done his way…Flint kind of still did that, a little bit. Flint loves him, I have no doubt, but he put so much faith in the idea that Silver would see his way as right and fall in line that it made him blind to the daylight that was growing between them. He was still doing it on that damn island when he was talking to Dooley. I can buy that he didn’t know the chest was on board, because he truly hadn’t made room in his head for the possibility that Silver would go against him in that way. So he let his plan fall into place, as his plans always fell into place with Silver by his side, without noticing that Silver wasn’t with him in the way he thought. Poor Flint. Like we said, speaking of masters of blinding oneself to dangerous truths…

3.“I wonder though how much he was motivated by pride in that moment, or anger, or even just vulnerability.” Honestly Laura just let me rEST. You have a Flint-like way of cutting straight to the heart of a scene or action. We (you) covered Silver’s vulnerability (god so vulnerable–remember when he left the hilltop when Flint asked about his past? He sounded SO young and broken as he went gosh. I’m pretty emotional over his emotions.) but I really want to address the others. Because I actually had some thoughts concerning his pride. He always made a point to set himself apart from the men and claim freedom from Flint’s influence (“You will account for me;” “I don’t believe in him”). I think once there was a break in their relationship (once daylight could seep between them) all Billy’s and Hands’s warnings fueled his determination perhaps to disprove them or maybe just to prove to himself that he can still hold his own with Flint and not be moved, even to the point of ignoring logic (John, why :’( ). And I’m thinking these conflicting, complex emotions feed into each other? Like maybe the anger also stems from the vulnerability, the perceived betrayal–is a reaction to being hurt. Anger is an easy emotion, and to someone who is new to emotions like Silver, I imagine it’s simpler to embrace. I mean, remember his face at the end of the episode? He’s so in love (romantic, platonic, whatever I don’t care); he’s in awe of this thing between them. This is his first (at least that we see) important relationship. The feelings are mutual, that’s what he says, and for him to feel like Flint broke his first foray into attachment, of course he’s going to be hurt.

I suddenly have that scene from Pride and Prejudice playing in the back of my mind and it’s the worst. (”Perhaps these offences might have been overlooked had not your pride been hurt by my honesty…”, “My pride?”, “…in admitting scruples about our relationship…”, “…from the first moment I met you, your arrogance and conceit, your selfish disdain for the feelings of others made me realise that you were the last man in the world I could ever be prevailed upon to marry.” *cue sexual tension so thick you could spread it on toast*) Oh, pride. You know, come to think of it, we were told right at the beginning of the episode that pride should not be a thing that ought to come between them at this point, and I imagine that wasn’t accidental.

I think you’re completely right about the influence of Billy and Hands’s words. However that pride is framed (either being for Silver’s own peace of mind, or to prove the point to them), having that ‘mistake’ seen by them, and commented on constantly, must have had some effect on his impulse to prove he could even the score and show just how very invulnerable he really was to Flint. I think he’s probably almost as angry with them for pointing it out and making it ‘a thing’ as he is with Flint for giving rise to it. I’ve wondered a lot, actually, just how this season would have gone without the corrupting influence of Hands. He really has been an evil little snake, whispering the things that should only ever have been thought by Silver, not said aloud. I suppose that was his purpose really. To give voice to those things that we as the audience needed to hear, but which wouldn’t normally be spoken. He’s almost been as much a narrative device to show Silver’s state of mind as those S3 dreams were for Flint.

What you say about Silver’s complex emotions feeding into easier ones, like anger, sounds exactly right too. I’ve been kind of viewing Silver as a bit of a teenager in a lot of respects this season, and that fits in with that view. Flint was totally his first foray into attachment, yeah, and Silver does definitely love him in his way - he’s basically experiencing his first break up, and it’s a brutal, world-shattering one. He’s so inexperienced with feelings (seemingly deliberately, as one of those suddenly inconvenient lines of defence - fuck do I empathise with him there), and so like a teenager his reaction to big feelings that he doesn’t know how to quantify or cope with is to boil them down to easier ones, like anger and hurt, and to express them through spite and cruelty and self-pity. He’s a goddamn mess, but I don’t think he’d know how to stop everything from spiralling, even if he wanted to. Flint might though, if he’d only stop raging long enough to listen to him.

(And don’t even get me started on Luke Arnold and his freakish ability to de-age himself by about 10 years in the blink of an eye. He’s looked and sounded so young several times this season, and every single time it’s broken me. I could write a whole essay just on that.)

One final thought I had regarding the narrative of Flint and Silver’s relationship is that though they frame it as the war vs Madi, as soon as Flint took the cache, the conflict became him vs Madi. And the fandom had some compelling arguments that the writers weren’t going to be that predictable, but they really were and. That’s probably the most disappointing. Like I didn’t find the episode disappointing but this season as a whole, while not bad, has not been up to parr. Anyway sorry for the incoherent jumble. But I truly love how you process Silver.

I’ve had this thought too. All of last week I was worrying that there would be no rug-pull and that their division really would be as simple as it seemed, and I was ready to be so disappointed by that…but then episode 9 was so damn good that I kind of forgot to be annoyed. And I still can’t quite find it in me to pick holes yet. I don’t know how it will all stand up to rewatches, but I agree with you, I think. In comparison to most tv, S4 has still been something special (in my eyes), but there have definitely been things that seemed a little rushed or contrived. I suppose the writers felt that they didn’t have enough story left for two more seasons, but what they had was still too much for just one. Perhaps a final season of 12 or 15 episodes would have worked a little better, and given all the storylines and relationships a little more space to breathe. As it stands though, the thing I’ve always loved most about this show is the characters, and I think for the most part they’ve been as well written and thoughtfully developed this season as in the past three, so I’m willing to overlook a few more bumps in the storytelling than normal. And I’m just so glad that the pieces have finally fallen into place for everyone else to ‘see’ Silver again too, because it’s started to feel a little lonely in the John Silver Defence Squad lately.

This got ENORMOUS. But I’ve had fun answering it! I am not ready to let these pirates go. :( I think they’re going to live in my head for a very, very long time. (I’m at least 40% John Silver at this point. Maybe more.) Someone carve ‘Know no shame’ on my tombstone, please.

#I'm tagging you as #John Silver's People Club anon #:)

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