#i’m not usually one to play into the whole pit women against other women thing but nicki’s recent actions are so inappropriate. wild | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

skyuhyunie · 2 years

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20220714 Dear M. Up to Episode 9 [SPOILERS SORRY]

Dear M. was a highly anticipated drama that fizzled out and was postponed due to scandals and I guess just some bad luck. All that aside, I wanted to talk about the drama itself and the storytelling of what I have watched so far!

I still have three episodes left so we'll see what happens after I watched those but I wanted to write some things down now before I forget anything.

First thing's first, I do want to note that I have been LOVING this drama so far. I love the romance and (most of) the characters and it makes me feel all fuzzy inside and I have been having very tangible reactions to this show. But there are also some things that I really need to talk about for some reason that I don't know.

The Relations Map is Kinda Crazy

I was trying to map it out for my friend and I started laughing I'll post it maybe. But there are so many love triangles it's funny.

I Miss The Aesthetic (among other things) of Love Playlist

I think this is tough because I understand the appeal of the aesthetic (lighting, clothes, vibes, etc.) of Dear M., HOWEVER Love Playlist was beloved for a reason, and there's a reason Dear M. was even created after it. Love Playlist was fun, spunky, and went into different relationships in an interesting way. Dear M. though is very cliché and draws heavily from many beloved tropes. And of course, it is a lot more dramatic than I remember Love Playlist. I also miss the playlist part of it! Speaking of, where is this song Maple Latte, and the rest of the OST? Is it because the show was postponed? Lastly in this section, I really really miss Pureum and the more dynamic and character-y characters! I feel like Jimin was a lot more spunky than she turned out to be (I know she is played by a different actress, but the writing is different too?) and her character has become kinda one-dimensional? Some of the best-written characters are the more character-y ones like Mokjin and Young! I wish there was a bit more of that and a bit more of the goofiness and fun of being a college student instead of the melodrama they created.

Jimin, Haneul, and Rosa's Storyline is too Frustrating

If you are going to pit one woman against another (which I am truly sick of these women against women stories) why can’t you make it more nuanced?? Why can’t you go beyond oh this one guy liked Jimin but Rosa liked him? It’s been too overdone and it’s starting to feel a little sexist… Also Rosa keeps making one manipulative move after another it’s honestly kind of impressive like she is playing CHESS. I loved Hwang Boreumbyeol in the ONF Webdrama, Can I Step In? (although I know that objectively, it is not a good drama HAHA) but I am starting to think I’m going to have a hard time looking at her the same. She is VERY good at glaring and making disgusted faces very impressive. Also I feel like Jimin and Haneul’s relationship should’ve been fleshed out more before they went against an adversary of their love. The last time watchers of Love Playlist saw them they JUST got together after Haneul realized that he does not like Pureum if I am remembering correctly. Again, a reason why Pureum would’ve made a great addition.

I Really Love Minho and Jooah Though

I am truly a sucker for the childhood best friends to lovers trope. It’s also super super interesting because this feels like a new take on that trope with Minho not really being in the unrequited love the whole time? Usually it’s extended but it seems like they set it up so that his love blossomed from seeing her liking someone else (which again the jealousy thing is kinda overdone but I honestly think that the way they did it is more complicated than that it’s more like he is seeing her in a new light, not feelings being activated by jealousy which I can appreciate). I also like both actors in these parts, I think they were casted really well!! I also think Jaehyun would’ve blown up on the acting circuit if this show had come out as previously planned and if they were able to promote it. I am lowkey terrified of that man and am a little sus of him but I also have come to be a huge simp for him over the years. I was telling my friends that my heart does a weird thing when I hear his voice??? Anyways I hate when people serenade people because it’s so cringe but the way they did it with Jaehyun really had me giggling and kicking my legs while on my lunch break at work.

Moon Joon’s Character has Thrown Me for a Loop

I honestly cannot believe this man. First, my reaction was very strong for him, and I couldn’t tell if he was the main male lead or not? I’m usually a sucker for second male leads so I just kinda figured it would be Jaehyun at first. Like Joon was perfect but then holy shit him taking credit for Minho’s app and then HOLY SHIT HE HAD A GIRLFRIEND?? That plot twist was too much of a twist like it really came out of nowhere. I understand trying to surprise the viewer but I feel like this is to the point where it doesn’t make sense? So weird, unexpected, and honestly I’m not sure I like how this character turned out even though I REALLY liked him earlier. How could he have a girlfriend I’m so confused there were too many romantic things in a row they KISSED ugh so confusing.

I Appreciate Jooah Figuring Out Her Dream Through Her First Love

I feel like people, ESPECIALLY women are scolded and looked down on for discovering things because of other people but Young was right when she said that all of us are made up of the people that we interact with. I think it is really admirable that Jooah decides to stick with what she discovered she liked and not be knocked down because the reason why she came to like it didn’t work out.

Alrighty so these are my thoughts on Dear M. for now. I am sure there are a lot more that I am forgetting but I am now tired of typing and I think I’m done for the day haha. If I have more thoughts after finishing the drama up I will post about it but I also might not have any.

So far: 8/10!! I really like it as long as I separate it from Love Playlist in my mind but I also know that it is pretty trope-y and that’s not for everyone no matter how much I might love it.

Disclaimer: I honestly did not proof read this I am sorry.

#dear m.#kdrama

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

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request for ceoverse! pls make where the wifey visits him at work ((wherein the employees still dont know how she looks like)) and his secretary kinda looks down at her like “who r u, do u even have an appointment lol” ... i want angry ceo!harry and shook employees PLEASE +++ hes all soft w her in front of them and they are all like HUH 🤨

TEMP OPENING (mini blurb)

Reminder: Harry is not nice! He’s an asshole to everyone but his wife and baby.

Y/N was a bit frazzled. She was suppose to drop off important documents, that her husband had forgotten at home, to Harry’s office an hour and a half ago.

Ivy decided that it’d be best to throw a temper tantrum because she didn’t want to stop playing with her toy kitchen set.

After a half hour of wriggly, angry toddler chaos - Ivy was strapped into her car seat with a furious expression.

Especially because YN didn’t let her bring a toy along because of her behavior. It was her attempting to kick the back of the leather seat until YN firmly asked her to stop.

When she wouldn’t, YN pulled out her last resort card. She didn’t use it much because she didn’t want it to lose luster.

“Did I need to tell Daddy how you’re treating mummy?” YN looks in the rearview mirror at her red-faced daughter.

Ivy looked comical. She’d refused to let her mother comb her wild curls or change her white shirt that was covered in berry stains.

“No!” She shrieks but stops kicking and huffs as she looks out the window to the passing scenery.

The temper of her father, YN swears.

She manages to scurry through the building without many glances. A few people know who she is but not any of the lower level employees.

They don’t recognize Ivy either because she is rarely in the building and if she happens to be they keep her on the secluded top floor where his office is.

YN is rushing, feeing awful about not getting the papers to him sooner. She doesn’t look much better than her baby.

Hair is a messy bun atop her head, a ripped up vintage shirt, and grey biker shorts that have similar berry stains to her daughters.

She is basically dragging her toddler along as she isn’t very willing to use her feet at this very moment. Stopping and staring at everything then grumbling when her mum pulls her away.

Finally she arrives at the office that houses his secretary before the massive doors that lead into his office.

When she pushes through, there are two men sitting on the sofa with briefcases in their laps - obviously waiting for a meeting.

The women behind the desk isn’t the usual grey haired grandmother-like women that she and Ivy love.

Harry’s normal secretary was on a week vacation and there was a younger, raven-haired girl sitting in her usual position.

She looks YN up and down with judgemental eyes before she smirks and says, “Mr. Styles isn’t hiring for the cleaning crew right now.”

It takes moment of confusion to realize that the girl is implying that how she looks - unprofessional and a hot mess means she’s less than.

Even though any job is a good job.

YN is about to comment on how rude the comment is but Ivy bolts to the side of the office to view a large very much alive plant.

She reaches up to curiously pick at the leaves in her child-like wonder but ends up pulling the whole thing over, soil spilling all over the plush white carpeting.

It startled Ivy into tears, rushing back to her mum and begging to be picked up. YN can feel the men and the secretary’s eyes on them.

“Mummy, it’s scary,” Her daughter whines, sniffling and burying her face into her mum’s neck. Hiding.

“You’re okay, it’s fine,” YN soothes, rubbing her back comfortingly.

“It’s really not okay because now I have to clean that up. Maybe you should get that little brat under control.”

It’s perfect timing when Harry’s door opens and he hears the girl call his daughter a brat.

His perfect little baby.

All eyes go to Harry, he demands attention anywhere he goes but this is his territory. He’s fucking furious.

“Hayley, why are you talking to your boss that way?” Harry asks in a calm, taunting tone. He casually rests against the doorframe.

Hayley looks at him confused, “What do you mean? I was just telling this women that her daughter is out of control.”

“First off, that women is your boss just as much as me. Seeing as she has 50% ownership of the company,” He replies cooly, pursing his lips in irritation.

“Second off, I’m not going to tolerate you insulting our daughter. She’s a fuckin’ baby, she’s going to do things kids do,” Harry motions to the plant lying lifelessly on the ground.

YN shoots his a look, no cursing in front of Ivy, and he automatically sends her an apologetic look. Their daughter has popped up and is dimpling at her father.

“Daddy! Missed you!” Ivy chirps happily.

The two men are wide-eyes and quiet, they look at each other once - communicating silently.

“Anything else I need to address, pet?” Harry asks his wife, accepting Ivy when she makes grabby hands at her father.

Harry smiles down at his child, “Hi Vee. Y’missed Daddy? I missed you, my little lovie.”

YN usually would let it alone and not be catty - truly.

Insult her all they want but they do not talk about their daughter like that.

“She said that they’re not hiring janitorial staff. I guess my appearance gave off that kind of signal,” YN smirks, even though the rock on her finger should have given it away.

“Hmm, isn’t that interesting?” Harry hums, mocking that he’s thinking hard.

It’s amazing how he can still be intimidating with a little clone of himself in his arms - who’s currently wrapping her fingers in his cross necklace.

“Wha-what?” The confused, nervous girl answers as she realizes the pit she dug herself into.

“It’s interesting because we may not have a janitorial position available but we have a new opening for a temp secretary,” Harry smiles widely with no empathy for the girl.

Then he’s turning to the other men, “D’you two have anything t’say? I’m always willin’ to open your positions too.”

They shake their heads in unison and don’t open their mouths at all. They actually look at their feet.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Hayley spits at him, standing up and throwing her purse over her shoulder.

“You better hurry. The unemployment office closes at two,” Her husband tells the girl before ignoring her mutters to kiss his daughter’s cheek.

YN steps over, murmuring “She has been a brat all day but she’s our brat.”

“Eh, her mummy is a brat half the time too,” Harry replies, lowly so the men can’t hear.

He can’t help but reach his hand around and squeeze quickly at her bum.

“H,” YN squeaks, smacking him playfully, “Here’s those papers. I’m sorry I’m so late.”

“Never be sorry, s’okay. These guys have been sitting there for the last two hours waitin’ on them to start the meeting. They’re fine.”

YN flushes, avoiding the men’s gazes, and hands them to her husband, “You really are an awful boss.”

“I know, s’fun,” Harry smiles, pressing a kiss to her lips before kissing Ivy’s nose to hear her giggle.

After meeting, the men will discuss - one: how hot his wife is and two: how Harry was whipped for her and his baby.

Enjoy 😊

#harry styles #ceo!harry #harry styles writing #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #ceoverse #ceo!harry blurbs #ceo!harry masterlist #writing request #dad!verse #dad harry #harry styles husband #husband harry

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ijustwant2write · 3 years

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Runaway-Finn Shelby x Reader

(GIF credit to @dialnfornoir)

Masterlist

Summary: On her brisk walk home, (Y/N) witnesses a brutal Peaky Blinder attack, attempting to run away when Finn Shelby comes after her, only to sweep her off her feet.

Characters: Finn Shelby x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Violence, fighting, blood, fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Come on (Y/N), not even one drink? We won't even make you stay, just the one!" my friend moaned as I denied their proposal of going to the Garrison.

"You said that last time, and I ended up staying until early hours." I laughed.

They all put their hands together as they started begging. I also laughed at this, embarrassed by the attention that was suddenly on us.

"No, seriously. I have to be good with money this month. Thanks to you lot, I'm having to be frugal for the rent."

They sighed."Fine, we won't make you come. But you will be missed. Just get home safe, OK?"

"I will. You too, please don't get too drunk and end up sleeping outside."

"That was one time!"

I shook my head as we giggled, waving goodbye when I turned to walk home. We had just finished work, so it was still relatively light out; I would say it was less dangerous to walk alone, but we did live in Small Heath. Yawning after the long, boring shift, I adjusted my coat around me, trying to keep warm. All I wanted was a good dinner, get cleaned up and snuggle into bed, maybe read a few chapters of the book I had if my eyelids could stay open. I was only in my early twenties and already feeling like an old woman.

Home wasn't far, a good twenty minute walk, which could be a bad thing if it was raining, a lovely stroll if not. I lived in the better part of Small Heath (if there even was one), walking home from work had never been an issue. Until I heard the unfamiliar sounds of desperate begging and crying, as well as thumps and slaps of skin of skin contact. My eyes widened, heart beat accelerating when I realised someone was begging for their life. There was no other way home for me, I had to take this route. What I should have done was turn around to join my friends for that drink, but the natural human tendency to be curious took over. As I cautiously continued my way home, I couldn't help but glance down the alleyway behind a row of houses, spotting four young boys surrounding an older man, who looked like he was being beaten to a pulp by one of them. I froze, having never seen a brawl like this up close. It was as if I were delayed, somehow taking ages to register that I had to leave before they spotted me.

Unfortunately one of their heads snapped up to look at me, tapping his friends on the shoulder, pointing at me as he shouted for them to stop. My legs still wouldn't move, staring at the man who's face was soaked red with his own blood. It wasn't until one of the young men started approaching me that I sprinted away, suddenly terrified about what could happen to me.

I cursed myself for being such a bad runner, as well as the shoes I was wearing. My lungs were working incredibly hard, my throat drying up whilst my mind panicked as it tried to remember which way was home. I let out a scream as the boy grabbed me, crying out in pain when they pushed me against the brick wall. Attempting to scramble out of their hold was useless, they were pushing their whole weight on me, I had no escape.

"(Y/N)?" he said my name.

My eyes widened, realising who had a hold of me. It was Finn Shelby.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)? We went to school together. You might not remember me, but we definitely did."

"Of course I remember you! You're Finn fucking Shelby.”

"Oh right."

"Please don't hurt me."

He looked confused."Hurt you? Why would I do that?"

"Well, you're currently pinning me against a wall, and I'm finding it a bit hard to breathe if I'm honest."

He glanced down, quickly pushing himself away from me. I tried to hide getting my breath back, letting out a quick cough. It seemed he wasn't going to hurt me, and he wasn't being sadistic about that phrase either.

"I'm sorry. You alright?"

I slowly nodded, still wanting to be on the safe side.

"I remember you from school. Obviously changed a lot, though I have seen you from time to time."

"Right."

"Look, uh, what you saw back there, I need you to forget it."

"Finn," I was scared to say his name but I did anyway,"you almost killed him."

"You know I'm a Peaky Blinder, right?"

"How could I not? And are you trying to justify what you did?"

"(Y/N), he ran a brothel using children."

"Oh."

"I mean, you couldn't have known that, so I can see how that looks from a different perspective."

"Well, I totally agree with your actions then."

"I still need you to keep quiet about the whole thing."

"Um, of course."

"Where were you headed?"

This was the longest conversation I had ever had with Finn, with a Peaky Blinder. I briefly remember him as a child, you never do have specific memories at such a young age, though I probably played with him during break time.

"Home."

"Let me walk you."

"No, honestly it's fine, it's not far."

"I insist. Part of my apology for scaring you earlier."

"Part of your apology?"

"Yeah, I'm taking you out for drinks tomorrow."

I started thinking I might have been in a dream."Sorry?"

"Do you always act this surprised at what people say? A catch up drink."

"That's alright, really, if you're trying to make it up to me-"

"Come on, just one?"

It was like deja vu.

"If you're busy tomorrow, we can always go tonight. Yeah, you know what? Let's do that instead!"

"No, Finn, really I'm fine."

"I won't take no. Please, it'll be nice, I promise all I'm asking for is a drink."

I felt obligated to go, still in a bit of shock from what happened. But my friends were at the Garrison, if they saw me with Finn they would think I was ditching them, and what would it look like for me to be walking in with a Shelby?! However, I felt bad when I saw how happy Finn was; and even if he tried anything later I would undoubtedly slap him, I wasn't afraid of that (I tried to convince myself). When I agreed, his smile grew even bigger, instantly heading towards the pub.

I was trying to focus on what he was babbling on about, only my mind was preoccupied with the dreaded stares of my friends. That was one fo the worst things you could do as a girl, ditch your friends for a boy. Then there would be questions about how I met him, why didn't I tell them, why didn't I bring him along to drinks etc. I'd look like any other desperate girl that tried to cling onto the arm of any Shelby, desperate for a taste of the dangerous, gangsta life, even if it was just for one night.

As we walked in, I felt sick, immediately spotting my friends on their usual table they always tried to grab. They hadn't seen me yet, so I attempted to hide behind Finn, keeping my head down as we stood at the bar.

Finn was served first before anyone else."Whiskey Harry, and you?"

"Um, wine please."

"Just put them through the window, yeah?"

I was confused when we walked to the private room, it felt like I was trespassing. Though this gave me a good hiding place from my friends, chancing to glance back at them before disappearing. They still hadn't seen me.

Finn casually sat down, looking relaxed. I stood, not sure whether to join him, which was a stupid thing to think when he had invited me.

"Are you going to stand there the whole time?" he chuckled.

I said nothing as I sat down opposite him, not wanting to become trapped in the booth with him. I still wasn't sure what to say once seated, hating that this could become awkward at any second.

"Are you OK? You seem a bit shaken up still." he asked.

"I'm fine." I squeaked out, knowing he could see right through me.

"You're all nervous, what's wrong?" he smirked.

I sighed."My friends are out there."

"Oh, well go tell them to join us."

"No!" I snapped too quickly."Look, I said no to drinks earlier, hence why I was on my way home, and I was scared what they would think or feel if they saw me waltz in with you."

"Don't want to be seen with a Blinder?"

"No, just didn't want them to think I chose a boy over my friends."

He gave me a pointed look.

"And I guess it would seem strange if I suddenly walked back in with a Blinder."

"Why did you say no in the first place?"

"Because money is tight. That was another reason I was hesitant to come, honest."

"You're not paying (Y/N)."

"Oh, Finn-"

"No, because I literally get this stuff for free." the small window into the room opened."Speaking of."

He reached over and grabbed our drinks, handing mine to me before clinking the glasses together. Unlike Finn, who threw the whole drink back, I sipped on my wine, and god was it good. He slammed the glass back down onto the table, letting out a satisfied breath.

"So what have you been up to since school?"

"Well, I've got a job at this clothes shop, you might have passed it but we only deal with women’s clothing, so I doubt you’ve been in. Uh, I actually started there as a shop assistant after I left school, you know, running errands and doing the little things no one else wanted to do. Then they started giving me proper jobs, I’m also a book keeper now and-” I glanced at Finn, realising that I was rambling,“-sorry, I’m talking too much.”

“No, no you’re not.” he chuckled, waving a hand in the air.

“Long story short, I work in a clothes shop. What about you?”

I closed my eyes as soon as I finished my sentence, wincing at my stupidity.

“I didn’t mean, I wasn’t trying to be smart or pry, obviously I know...no I don’t know...”

“You’re cute when you stumble over your words.”

I wasn’t expecting that.“E-excuse me?”

Before things could get any more awkward, the door opened, making us both jump. I felt my heart drop down into the pit of my stomach when I saw who it was, and I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me; his brothers were here.

“What the fuck are you doing in here Finn boy?”Arthur asked (if you didn’t know all their names, you had to be incredibly simple).

“Failing to get another bird in your bed?” John smirked.

“Shut up John.” Finn spat.“This is (Y/N), she’s an old friend from school.”

They filtered in. John scoffed.“Surprised you remember anything about school. Have you asked him what five pus five is?”

John and Arthur laughed as they sat down opposite us, Thomas standing besides the window for the drinks. I clasped my hands together as they started to shake out of nerves. I was in a room with the Shelby brothers, the men who ran one of the most feared gangs in England, and I had no clue what to do with myself.

“Um, I think I should go.” I pathetically mumbled out.

“Don’t be rude Finn,” Thomas said,“show the lovely, young lady out.”

Finn was glaring at his brothers as we stood. I slowed down my steps so I didn’t appear to be running away from them. Finn opened the door for me, and I felt weightless as soon as I stepped out of that room. He followed me out, running a hand down his face.

“I’m sorry about them. They’re just being their usual stupid selves.” he apologised.

“It’s alright, really. Don’t tell them they bothered me or anything because they really didn’t.”

“You don’t have to worry. They won’t do anything to you because we had a drink together.”

“Sorry, just not used to...”

“Meeting a gangster?”

I hummed in agreement.“Yeah.”

“Look, I definitely need to go back in there. But I liked this. Apart from how we bumped into each other.”

“Yes, that could have been different.”

“I would like to do this again though.”

“You would?”

“There you go again, acting all surprised. How about this weekend?”

“I-I’m free this weekend.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at six on Saturday.” he smiled at me, turning to go back into the private room before calling the bartender.“Oh, Harry, another wine for my friend.”

He winked at me, then disappeared into the room. I heard heckling and teasing from his brothers. I could feel that my cheeks were heating up from blushing, though I also couldn’t help but smile. Thanking the bartender for the wine, I quickly took it, freezing when I saw my friends staring at me. Sighing, I took a big gulp of the drink before making my way towards them. This was going to be a longer night than I thought.

#finn shelby #finn shelby imagine #finn shelby imagines #finn shelby x reader #finn shelby one shot #finn shelby fanfic #finn shelby fan fic #finn shelby fanfiction #finn shelby fan fiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fan fic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fan fiction

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pale-silver-comb · 4 years

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So I know absolutely nothing about Leverage except what I've been seeing you post lately and I have to admit you're making it look tempting to watch! Can I ask what are some of your favorite things about the show/reasons you would suggest people watch it? And is there really a poly relationship that is canon?

Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. I am going to do my best not to just “asdfghkjl” at you and answer coherently.

In a nutshell, Leverage is about 5 people. 4 are criminals (Parker, Hardison, Eliot and Sophie) with different and unique skill-sets and 1 is an ex-insurance investigator (Nate) who, at one point or another in his career, has tracked down (or at least attempted to) the other 4. The whole show is essentially: man reluctantly reforms 4 criminals to use their criminal powers for good and 4 criminals move into man’s life and stubbornly refuse to leave because, goddammit, now they have morals.

I’ve got a lot of favourite things about the show but the main ones are as follows:

1. Found family. And I’m not talking about loners who come together to fight crime and happen to co-exist to the point where they realise they happen to have found themselves a family. I mean, Nate and Sophie are the Drunk Uncle and Wine Aunt who somehow become Mom and Dad to 3 beautiful criminal children. Mom and Dad love their criminal babies and the kids love them (as well as each other, but we’ll come to that in a moment). You get amazing family moments such as: Mom and Dad packing the kids lunch before sending them out to kick corporate greed’s ass; Mom and Dad giving the kids ridiculously expensive and personal Christmas presents causing their most Grumpy Kid to go very very quiet and soft as he runs off to gleefully play with his new murder toy; the kids interrupting Mom and Dad’s big Movie Style Kiss to ask if they can please keep their new underground layer and huffing and puffing when Dad tells them no.

2. Found family: the OT3 edition. To answer your question, the OT3 is indeed canon, confirmed by the creator. Now, usually, “confirmed by the creator” infuriates me because most of the time it’s a way for a creator to be seen as “progressive” without doing anything to actually be progressive. That isn’t the case here. The OT3 are built up carefully and while it is obvious the creators didn’t originally intend for all 3 of them to become a relationship in the romantic sense, by mid-season 5 we are given a very clear picture of where Parker, Hardison and Eliot are heading in their relationship. There aren’t any kisses at the end to signal this but there are solid marriage vows in not only one but two episodes. (And by marriage vows I mean literal equivalents of marriage vows: “for better or worse” and “’til death do us part”. I’m not even exaggerating). The OT3 also doesn’t need explicit romantic narratives to convey how much they love each other. Their love is laced through the whole show, from the way they teach each other things to the way they respond to each other and work as a unit. The way they fiercely protect and admire each other. Like someone once said, if you need characters to kiss or say I love you to let the audience know they love each other, you are writing them wrong.

Aside from that, each of the parings in the OT3 are just. Gah. They are so well done, with friendship being the solid basis for them all. The creators never expect the audience to assume anything about them or fill in the gaps. They give us their relationships on screen and reference many things off-screen to show us how these relationships continue to build in between episodes.

Hardison and Parker are a canon couple and date in the show: it’s approached slowly and they are so goddamned sweet. They are basically every fluffy slow-burn trope with a healthy dash of mutual pining in the mix. They are basically that quote “love is patient, love is kind”. (I would like to add their romance never becomes the focus of the show or overrides the importance of any other relationship they have with the other characters, especially Eliot.)

Hardison and Eliot are the Old Married Couple and from day one are already bickering and looking at each other/making comments that are found in every UST fic ever (not to mention Hardison has a very good knack for making Eliot grin like a little kid, when usually he’s basically an Angry Little Chef Man). They argue, they play, and love each other plain as day.

Parker and Eliot are more subtle but every bit as wonderful. They have an unspoken connection and understand each other on a level no-one else can. Parker and Eliot are not good with giving themselves over to affection for different reasons (and Hardison plays a central role in helping them realise it’s okay to want it and have it- that boy has endless patience) but there is something so beautiful in the way the two of them come together on their own and develop their own special bond that works for them. Parker and Eliot are that trope where the characters don’t need to speak to understand each other perfectly. They just do. Their love language is a lot of the time non-verbal but speaks volumes. (Parker also likes to annoy the hell out of Eliot and Eliot....just.....lets...her. Because he’s soft. The softest, grumpiest boy.)

I could go into so much depth for each pairing and their dynamics as a 3 but that's for another post.

3. Subverting stereotypes. There is the occasional hiccup in the show regarding stereotypes but ultimately, Leverage gets an A+ when it comes to writing characters and making them 3 dimensional people who are not defined by certain characteristics or events. Nate could so easily fall into the White Man Pain trope where he uses the trauma of losing his kid as a reason as to why he is entitled to act like a dick. Nate is a dick but he doesn’t use his pain to excuse it and I appreciate that. Hardison is a black man who is soft and nurturing. Easily the most empathetic and patient of the group. He’s nerdy, an actual genius, and has the biggest heart of all the characters. Nate is maybe the glue but Hardison is definitely the heart. Media’s usual aggressive, amongst other, racist stereotypes can fuck right off. Parker is canonically autistic (I am sure this was confirmed by one of the creators) and she is not defined by it. It’s not written as some kind of singular personality trait. It’s part of what makes up Parker but it’s only one facet of who she is and not once is her actions, thoughts or feelings treated like a joke. Sometimes people don’t understand why she does and says the things she does but it’s met with patience and fondness over the course of the show. Equally, it’s not met with over-caution. Parker is just Parker. No-one tries to change her. The other nice thing is Hardison, who always makes sure Parker knows she’s amazing because of who she is and not in spite of it. Finally, Sophie is in her 40s. She’s not treated like she’s past her prime. Ever. She’s sexy, smart and never is she pitted against or compared to Parker (who is younger) for anything. Sophie is amazing and there’s never even a conversation of “I may be older but I am still *insert adjective typically associated with younger women here*”. Sophie is possibly the first female character I’ve ever seen who isn’t just unapologetic about her age but has never had to apologise for her age. It’s a non-issue and that’s that. The women on the show are written so well, right down to secondary characters and it’s beyond refreshing.

4.) It’s just fun. The show has a “monster of the week” type format. Except instead of a ghoul or a ghost, the monster is some corrupt wealthy and powerful individual or organisation. The show draws on real-life individuals to do this and therefore closely parallels real-life people and events. It addresses important political, economical, social and environmental issues while at the same time remaining fun and light-hearted. The characters constantly get the chance to play dress up and by GOD do they have fun with it. You get to watch Eliot beat up bad guys in the most delightful of ways, usually after a witty non-sequitur and with a weapon you’d never think could be a weapon. The dialogue and back and forth between the characters is everything. And finally - my favourite thing- the team can never resist striking a dramatic pose after they’ve taken down the bad guy, making sure the bad guy sees them. I mean, they COULD just walk away, satisfied they’ve taken the person down, but nope. They gotta be dramatic bitches 24/7 and pose like they are models for every single month of this year’s Criminal Calendar.

5.) Competence Porn. So. Much. Competence Porn.

Honestly, I could list a thousand reasons for why Leverage is amazing but to list them would to be spoiling so many amazing moments you’d get to discover for the first time on your own if you do choose to watch it. It’s the kind of show you can watch with an eagle-eye and sink your teeth into. But it’s also the kind of show if, you would prefer, put on in the background for something entertaining while you do something else. Each episode is about the job at hand but it’s made up of so many moments between the characters that show how much the creators and writers care about them. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll do whatever it is you do when something Soft and Wonderful happens that makes your heart melt. I am so beyond grateful for Leverage. It’s everything I always wanted in a show. Nearly every show I’ve watched in the past 10 years has disappointed me in some way, usually either because the writers run out of steam or characters who I love are treated poorly or given some kind of unnecessary “shock value” arc. Leverage doesn’t do that. Leverage is what it says on the bottle. Fandom isn’t something I joined because I needed canon fix-its. Fandom only enhances and celebrates an already excellent canon.

#leverage #leverage ot3 #parker #alec hardison #eliot spencer #sophie devereaux #nate ford #talk leverage to me

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staticscreenwriting · 3 years

Text

Love like the movies // Bucky Barnes

One - When Harry met Sally

Synopsis: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. Growing up, Bucky had not a doubt in his mind that his undeniable charm and his gorgeous smile would one day help him find the one. Now he realizes there’s so much more to romancing women, especially those from the 21st century. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is not a love story. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for EP1 of TFATWS)

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

“ Now in the movies they make it look so perfect And in the background they're always playing the right song And in the ending there's always a resolution But real life is more than just two hours long “

Some Avett Brothers song sounds from the little radio that sits on the corner of the counter. Thick drops of rain pearl against the window, racing each other down the glass before meeting up eventually and becoming one with each other.

(Y/N) refills the last of the mustard bottles, setting it on the counter next to the others. It’s a quiet night at the diner. The kitchen’s been closed for an hour now and usually, that’s when people stop coming in. While the Little Blue Diner is known for their hot dogs and burgers, neither their coffee nor their cold sandwiches are gonna win any prizes any time soon.

And yet …

Sure enough, as her eyes lift towards the figure slouched down in the corner booth, his gloved hand is already outstretched, signaling his desire for yet another refill.

A mixture between a chuckle and a scoff tumbles from her lips at the thought of him wanting more of the slightly burned liquid. If there’s one thing (Y/N) can admit to being bad at, it’s brewing coffee. Where there should be a rich brown color, hers usually ends up with an inky black hue and instead of leaving a hint of warm caramelization on your tongue hers just tastes bitter. It doesn’t seem to face the man in the corner though. Not even a little bit. To say this worries her is a bit of an understatement. No one in their right mind would take 7 refills of her witch's brew.

“ You okay, my dude ? “ (Y/N) inquires as she steps up to his table, coffee pot in hand.

The man doesn’t look up at her. He doesn’t have to. She’s acutely aware of the character currently occupying the corner booth. It’s a face she knows like the back of her hand. One that’s been staring at her from books and documentaries, one she’s been greeted by every time her dad took her with him to the Smithsonian. Though they do not dare look up at her, she’s so awfully familiar with the bright blue shade of his eyes, he might as well be a long-time friend.

“ I’m fine. “

Of all the lies in the world, “I’m fine” must be the most unbelievable one and yet the one told most often. No one who’s actually fine ever says those words. Those two words are reserved for the lonely and broken only. It’s like getting “I’m not fine at all” tattooed across your goddamn forehead.

“ Sure you are, that’s why you’re having the 7th refill of my god awful coffee. “

“ ‘s not that bad. “

“ Sure, if you’re into licking charcoal it’s probably not that bad. “

It’s just a split of a second, a fraction of a moment, but (Y/N) is sure she can see the corner of his lips lifting slightly. It falls back into the stoic scowl immediately but it was there. For a teeny tiny moment, there was the shadow of a smirk on his face and that’s a success in her book.

“ Either way, here’s how we’re gonna do this. I’ll give you one last refill, after that, I’m cutting you off, my friend. I know I’m a waitress and it’s my job to bring you what you want but I do not fancy watching you suffer a caffeine-induced heart attack in this very diner. I am not equipped to handle a situation like that and quite honestly they don’t pay me enough to deal with that either. “

His eyes are still trained on the scratched-up white linoleum table but ever so faintly he nods his head in silent agreement.

As promised, she pours him one last cup of coffee. A brew so dark it could rival the bubbling goo of a tar pit.

“ Enjoy your last cup of the night, Mr. Barnes. “

It’s then, as she’s just about to walk back behind the counter, as those words leave her lips, that he looks up for the first time since he’s walked in.

His eyes are the exact shade of blue she’s so familiar with but there’s something else about them. An infinite sadness haunts every spec of blue. Where she thought there would be a sparkle of adventure, a hint of mischief, there is just loneliness. This is not the man she’s read about in museums, heard about in stories. This man right here is completely and utterly lost.

“ I - I uh — “

He clears his throat, once, twice, then nervously brushes his hand across his face.

“ I can go if you don’t want me here. “

“ Huh? “

“ I asked if you want me to leave. “

As those words escape him, his eyes seem to grow even more devastated. They glimmer with memories of a time long gone and a future uncertain. Shine with hurt and fear.

“ Why would I ask you to leave? “

Bucky shrugs his shoulders in a way to make it look nonchalantly. It’s hard to seem casual though when you seem to carry the weight of the entire world on your shoulders.

“ People who recognize me usually aren’t so keen on having me around. I don’t know if you’ve heard but I’m uh — I’m not people’s favorite person. “

It’s a sad thought, (Y/N) realizes, to be constantly bound to a past that is yours but never really belongs to you. To be forever linked with the horrible actions of a version of yourself you had no control over. And no matter how hard you try to set it all right and to repent for your wrongdoings, to some people it will never be enough.

“ No, you don’t have to leave, “ (Y/N) reassures before sliding into the booth opposite him. “ I don’t know you because of — because of what happened. I know you first and foremost as Sergeant Barnes, former officer of the 107th Infantry Regiment, part of the Howling Commandos, and best friend and brother to Steve Rogers. Everything else that’s — none of my business really. “

Bucky lifts his eyes off of the table again and while the sadness is still there, something else lingers for a moment. Curiosity, intrigue maybe, or just relief.

“ Wow. Didn’t think I’d run into someone reciting my life to me. Huh. “

“ My dad used to be a curator at the Smithsonian. He was in charge of the Captain America exhibition. I’ve seen your face a million times, visiting him at work. I gotta say though, you look way more approachable and friendly on the picture they put up. “

This time, it’s more than a fleeting moment, this time she’s sure about it, this time he lets out an actual chuckle.

“ I was a lot younger then, okay? Cut an old man some slack. “

“ Oh, you pulling the old man card now? “

“ Is it working? “ he asks, eyebrows raised in question.

“ Not really. “

“ Ah, what a shame.”

Silence settles upon them again like a thick duvet filled with feathers, it’s not uncomfortable but it’s smothering anyway.

“ Do you wanna talk about it? Your sour mood, I mean.”

Bucky shrugs again “I have a therapist.”

“ Does she make you draw your feelings? “

He smiles again at that question. His smile, (Y/N) thinks, ain’t the worst thing she’s ever seen. She wouldn’t mind seeing it more often.

“ No. Why? “

“ Mine did. She stopped pretty quickly though, I guess my drawings were too detailed and gory for her.”

“ Huh. “

“ Mmmh.”

After another sip of coffee, one he takes without grimacing, without showing any sign of disgust for the burnt brew, Bucky speaks up again.

“ Mine thinks I’m lying to her. “

“ Are you ?”

“ Well yeah, but she doesn’t need to know that.”

“ Maybe telling her the truth would help you. “ (Y/N) suggests only to be met with a determined head shake No from Bucky.

The notification sound of a phone pulls them from their conversation and at the sight of the name on the display, Bucky lets an “oh shit” slip from his lips.

“ Don’t you sound excited about getting texts from your friends, “ (Y/N) jokes

“ I had a date last night. That’s her. “

“ Since she’s texting you I assume it went well. “

Bucky grimaces at her words, slightly shaking his head in disagreement.

“ No? “

“ I mean, I had fun and it went well — at first. She’s really sweet. But then we started talking and I may have run. “

“ Ran where? “

“ Away. “

“ Away as in you left. “

“ Mm-mmh”

“ Just like that? “

“ Yup. “

“ Why? “

He throws up his arms in frustration and shakes his head again as if to gather all his thoughts and rattle them neatly back into place.

“ I don’t know, okay? I haven’t been on a date since the 1940s. Everything I know about women and dating and romance seems antiquated. I’m overwhelmed and confused and I just don’t wanna do anything wrong.”

“ Dude, you ran from your date without any explanation. How much worse could you have handled it? “

“ Yeah well, hindsight is 20/20. “

While his words try to sound light and nonchalant, his shoulders tense and his whole demeanor seems to shift back into the gloomy state he’s been in since he entered the diner. Like a big cloud that’s following him around, casting shadows at all times and hardly allowing any light to shine through.

“ Look, I don’t think any of us know what the heck we’re doing half the time. Like, trust me I know what I’m talking about. Online dating means I have to choose between men who think posing with a dead fish will make me want to sleep with them, men who think knowing obscure Star Wars facts can replace having an actual personality, and men who send me pictures of their … privates without me ever giving any indication of wanting to see those. So yeah — dating can really s - be frustrating. “

Bucky regards her for a second, the right corner of his lips pulled into a lazy lopsided smirk.

“ Did you just censor yourself because you don’t wanna swear around me ?”

“ Maybe, but that’s beside the point. The point is, we’re all just human and in the end, we’re all just looking for someone to like us the way we are, all quirks and issues and baggage included. I know women might seem intimidating but really all we want is to be loved and appreciated. And not the over-the-top build-you-a-house, the notebook kind of love. More like the Harry and Sally kind.“

(Y/N) can almost see the gears working inside Bucky’s brain, the desperate attempt to make any sense of all the words and phrases she’s just thrown at him. A jumbled mess of pop culture references swirls through his head like a swarm of bees, chaotic and messy.

“ I have no idea what you just said. “

“ When Harry met Sally? “

Bucky just shrugs and shakes his head.

“ You’ve never seen it? “

“ I’ve been a bit preoccupied with being blipped away into oblivion for the last 5 years. So I haven’t really had the time to get into movies yet. “

This time it’s the gears in her own head that start turning.

“ What are you doing Friday night ? “ she asks, biting her lip in nervous anticipation.

“ I — I don’t know. “

That’s a bit of a lie, really. He does know. It’s the same thing he does pretty much every other day. He gets some takeout, brings it home, sits down in front of the tv, tries to get lost in whatever show they put on, fails at doing so, reads a few pages of a book, lays down to sleep, and then wakes up a little while later to yet another nightmare, tangled up in sweaty sheets, heart racing.

(Y/N) doesn’t need to know any of that though. He doesn’t tell his therapist so why would he tell a random stranger.

“ Well, don’t make any plans. We’re gonna kill 2 birds with 1 stone. “

“ We are? “

“ Yeah. Trust me on this one. “

“ I don’t even know you. “

“ Sure you do. “ (Y/N) says and taps the tag pinned to her baby blue polo shirt with the diner’s logo on the back. “ I’m the one who serves you just enough coffee to keep you happy but not have you die a painful and honestly mildly embarrassing death. “

Every part of him screams at him to say no. To stay away from her the way he does from most other people, even Sam. To get up and get out and not cause any more damage than he already has in other people’s life. But then he remembers his therapist's words, he remembers Leah’s face full of confusion and disappointment, he remembers the empty feeling in his chest. That feeling of pure and utter loneliness.

“ Alright, Friday works for me, (Y/N). “

“ Perfect, Bucky. “

“ Bring a jacket. “

The address and “Bring a jacket” that’s all she’s texted him. No explanation, no plan, nothing.

Bucks leans against the streetlamp, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his leather jacket. Anxiety is washing through his system like tidal waves on a stormy ocean. This whole being spontaneous thing was much easier back in the 40s. When his shoulders weren’t so heavy with guilt. When he didn’t have to constantly face the consequences of his actions. Consequences of a past he can never quite outrun no matter how far he goes and how hard he tries.

Maybe this is good, he has to remind himself. Getting out of his comfort zone, if that even exists for him. Opening himself up to new opportunities. Maybe even make a friend. (Y/N) seem nice enough, if a bit peculiar.

His shrink would be proud of him. Getting out there, talking to people, being approachable. This must for sure earn him some kind of gold star equivalent in her notebook.

“ Hey there, Mr. Grumpyface. “

(Y/N)'s voice cuts through the chilly New York night like headlights through thick fog. She strolls towards him, lips pulled into a big bright smile. Leading up to tonight he’s spent quite a lot of time wondering if this is some kind of project for her, if maybe she sees him as a sort of charity case. Something to earn her karma points. It wouldn’t be the first time. But the genuine joy radiating from her face lets those worries melt away instantly.

Maybe, Bucky thinks, she really just thinks he’ll make a good friend. And maybe he can.

“ Hi, (Y/N). “

“ You brought a jacket” she points out, pinching the black leather between her fingers. Her nails are painted in various shades of red, each finger a different hue.

“ I did. You told me to. “

“ And you listened! “

“ Why wouldn’t I ? “ Bucky inquires, a look of confusion settling on his face.

“ You wouldn’t believe how many men think wearing a jacket when it’s cold out somehow clashes with their need to demonstrate their masculinity. “

“ Wow. “ he exclaims.

“ Yeah. So anyway, you ready to go up? “

She nods her head towards the house across the street. It’s a slim multiple-story brick building with rusty fire escapes. It looks like a residential lot, not much else that could give away (Y/N)’s plan for the rest of the night.

“ Up? “

“ Mm-mh. “ (Y/N) nods and motions towards the top of the building. “ to the roof. “

“ The roof? You’re not planning to push me off or anything, right? I don’t usually spend time with strangers on rooftops. “ he tells her, a smirk lifting the sides of his lips.

She grants him a smile in return. One of those that you try so hard to suppress but despite your best efforts they find their way onto your face anyway. Because some smiles demand to be smiled. And her smile is pretty cute, he thinks, it deserves to be seen.

“ Foiled again, damn Bucky. I’m a waitress with a useless degree in literature and creative writing but assassinating you was exactly what I had planned for tonight. Couldn’t let me have that one, huh? “

“ Sorry to spoil all the fun. “

She softly bumps her shoulder against his right side as she passes him and crosses the street. Her red skirt flutters around her knees like a ribbon of fire, bright and warm and —

“ You coming, grumpy ?”

“ Yeah uh — yeah sure. “

The walk upstairs is filled with chatter from her and nodding from Bucky. It’s been like this most of the time since — well since he’s really back. Other people usually do the talking and Bucky listens. It works most of the time. Works with Yori. Sometimes though, sometimes it doesn’t. He can see people getting frustrated with him. Hell his own therapist does and she knows the baggage he has to carry around.

This is different though, (Y/N) doesn’t seem to mind much. She’s a waterfall of words and topics and doesn’t seem to get bored or annoyed with him. It’s nice.

A heavy iron door swings open as they reach the top of the building and as soon as they step out onto the rooftop balcony they get engulfed in an ocean of lights. They’re strung from one end of the roof to the other and back again. Next to the door, a little makeshift bar is set up, and a guy in a Star Wars shirt hands out beers to people.

Multicolored deck chairs and beanbags are haphazardly placed across the entire roof, all pointing towards the corner furthest away from the door where a big white sheet hangs spanned between two poles.

“ Sooo you gonna tell me what we’re doing here? “ Bucky asks again as (Y/N) steers him towards a cluster of chairs in the back.

“ Some peeps I went to university with, set up movie screenings here every once in a while. I could pull some strings and got to choose the movie. “

“ We’re gonna watch a movie? “

“ Not just any movie, “ she exclaims and drops down onto one of the plastic deck chairs that looks like it used to be bright pink once but is now but a bleached blush colour from being exposed to the sun too much. “ We’re watching when Harry met Sally. “

Bucky slumps down on the chair next to her, a blue one with white daisy patterns.

“ Me not knowing this movie really does bother you, huh? “

“ It’s a classic, might as well start with this one. And anyway, maybe this can help you get back into the dating game. Ya know, help you understand modern romance. “

“ You think so? “

She shrugs and starts fumbling around in her bag, “ I dunno. It might. And if it doesn’t at least you’ll spend your time watching a good movie and get to experience the blessing of my company. Ah-ha! There you go “

Her hand reaches out holding a bag of M&Ms.

“ I brought snacks. “

More and more people start occupying the chairs and bean bags and a few minutes later a guy steps up in front of the sheet. He’s wearing a shirt with a black and white bird pattern, huge glasses with a brown frame, and jeans that don’t cover his ankles. He’s tall and lanky and his hair is so messy, Bucky wonders if it’s intentional or if he just hasn’t brushed it in a while.

“ Hi guys, I’m Andrew. For those of you who don’t know me, I live in apartment 2B and I just wanna say thank you for showing up and welcome you to our movie night under the stars. A few days ago we received a special request from one of our good friends and because she let me stay on her couch for several months back during our college days and I still owe her for that I couldn’t reject her request. So thanks to Miss (Y/N) over there in the pink chair you now get to spend the next 90 minutes watching Meg Ryan fall in love with Mike Wazowski. Enjoy. “

As he steps away from the sheet, the lights are turned off and the MGM logo pops up on the screen.

“ Trust me, Bucky. This one’s so good.” (Y/N) assures before throwing some M&Ms into her mouth, now entirely focused on the movie.

It takes a while for Bucky to relax. Being around so many people and not having any fear of what’s lurking around the corner is still very new. Letting go is never as easy as it sounds. Eventually though, his nerves settle down a little and as the movie progresses, he finds himself relaxing more and more. Something he hasn’t done in a long time. Not since Wakanda.

Exactly 46 minutes into the movie, (Y/N) lets her eyes wander to her left where Bucky, until now, sat slumped into his seat. Still perpetually grumpy but more chilled out and relaxed than she’s seen him before. Until now. A moaning Meg Ryan visible making him uncomfortable.

“ You okay, grumpy? “

He doesn’t grant her a real answer, just scoffs and rolls his eyes. There’s a smile though, she’s sure. Somewhere hidden there is another smile.

“ So, what did we learn today? “

Bucky looks at (Y/N) who has her arms wrapped tightly around her middle shielding herself from the chilly night air. The movie night has ended a while ago and the two of them are slowly strolling along the New York City streets on the way back to (Y/N)’s apartment.

“ To take your own advice and dress warmer for a movie night? “

(Y/N) chuckles. “ No, grumpy. I meant the movie. “

He shrugs at her question. Quite honestly he hasn’t learned anything new. Nothing about the movie seemed in any way revolutionary to him nor does he see any benefit for himself and his dating life going forward. But the way she looks at him right now, expecting something grand not from him really but some beautiful consequences to her ideas, that makes him reconsider. Sure he could tell her that it was just a silly little movie about people falling in love but that would no doubt hurt her, even a tiny little bit. And if there’s anything Bucky has enough of, it’s hurting others.

“ I guess that men and women really can not be friends. “

“ Noooo! No. Is that really what you took from this movie? “

“ That’s literally what happened. “

“ Okay first of all it works, look at us! We’re friends! Second of all, that’s not what the movie is really about. It’s about love and vulnerability. It’s about overcoming all the tiny things that can work against you and your relationship. Like distance and timing and egotism. It’s about hiding who you are because really opening up to someone, being your authentic true self with all your faults and imperfections, that makes you vulnerable. And being vulnerable is fucking scary. But love is worth it anyway. That’s what the movie is about. “

As Bucky noticed before, some smiles demand to be smiled. They need to be smiled because they’re important and they mean something. The one gracing his face now, that’s one of those. One of those you remember because you feel them all the way in your heart.

“ You think we’re friends? “

“ Oh, are we — are we not? “

“ No. I — no, we are! I’d like to be friends. “

(Y/N) abruptly stops in her tracks, turns towards him, and holds out her hand. “ To friendship.”

“ We’re shaking hands on it? What is this, a business deal? “

“ You know what, yeah now that you mention it that’s pretty lame. “ (Y/N) agrees, balling her hand into a fist “ how about a fist bump, bro? “

Bucky reluctantly knocks his right hand against hers before continuing his walk down the street. “You call me bro again I’m canceling the friendship. “

“ Alright. Noted. “

“ So have you talked to the girl again? “

“ Hmm? “

“ The one you went on a date with? “

“ Oh, Leah. Uh — no.”

“ Why not? “

Bucky throws her a look. One that says “are you kidding me?”. One that says “ you know why.”

“ Cause I ran out. That’s embarrassing. She’s gonna think I’m insane. She’s never gonna wanna see me again. “

“ I sincerely doubt that. You just gotta say sorry. I know in Love Story — that’s a novel and also a movie from the 70s — they say that ‘Love means never having to say you’re sorry but that’s a load of bull. Just say sorry and ask her for a do-over. “

“ And then what? We play a rematch of battleships and talk about my trauma? “

“ Well, what did you do on dates in the 40s? “

That time, his youth, that seems like a different life altogether now. So much happened between then and now and the man he is now, has no relation to the boy he was then. Sometimes looking back hurts, makes it painfully obvious what he’s lost. But sometimes, like tonight, he can feel a hint of fondness coursing through him at the thought of times long gone.

“ Dancing, mostly.”

“ Like, ballroom dancing? “

“ Swing. “

“ You swing dance? “

“ I did. “

(Y/N) regards him through squinted eyes “ really? “

“ You don’t believe me? “

“ I don’t know. You don’t strike me as a dancer. “

Not a second later, Bucky’s gloved hand grabs onto her’s and twirls her towards him then away from him and back in.

“ You twirled me! “

“ Mm-mh.”

“ I’ve never been twirled. That’s so fun. “

It’s like autopilot taking over as Bucky holds onto her, twirling her again then pulling her in and swaying them in a circle. It’s not swing dancing, not even close but there’s no music either, and anyway, his dancing days are over. But sometimes you gotta make a point and if that means slow dancing in the middle of an empty street then that’s that.

The night wraps them in a blanket of comfort and intimacy as the stars and the New York skyline try to outshine each other. It’s a moment so peaceful, Bucky can’t remember the last time his heart felt so light, his mind felt so at ease, his entire being got to let go and just be alive and in the moment.

And then the shine of headlights rips them from their moment and makes them jump back onto the sidewalk.

“ Get off the road you fucking morons! “

“ Gotta love the big city folk. “

“ Yup. “

“ Hey, Bucky.”

“ What? “

“ You really can dance.”

“ Told you. “

“ Can I tell you a secret? “

“ Sure. “

“ I can’t dance for shit. “

“ That so? “

“ Yup. Which means you gotta teach me. “

“ Absolutely not.”

“ Oh, 100%! “

“ We’ll see about that.”

There are nights you try to forget. Nights that you wish to never ever remember. Ones that break you. That beat you down and leave you bruised and battered.

Then there are nights like this one that you want to hold onto for just a little bit longer. Those that fill you with joy and an immeasurable thirst for life. The ones that make you feel grateful to be alive right here and now.

The inevitable end of the night creeps closer as they arrive at (Y/N)’s front door. Neither of them really want to say goodnight but both know there’s no use in delaying it.

“ I hope you didn’t hate the movie too much, “ (Y/N) speaks up, leaning against the front door of her apartment complex.

“ No. It was fun! Although I still don’t know who Mike Wazulsky is. “

“ Mike Wazowski, he’s — you know what? That’s a conversation for another time. “

“ Alright, if you say so. “

“ Thanks for walking me home. “

“ Oh, yeah no need to thank me. It’s the right thing to do. “

For a moment they just stand and smile, trying to cherish the last few moments of this night.

“ We should do this more often. “ Bucky suggests, surprising even himself.

“ For sure. I still have so many movies to show you. “

“ Can’t wait. “

A slight sense of awkwardness falls over them as neither of them knows what to do. Go for a hug? Shakes hands? Wave goodbye?

“ I uh — I should go. “

“ Yeah, of course. Have a good night, Bucky.”

“ You too, (Y/N).”

“ Oh and Bucky? “

“ Yes? “

“ Give Leah a call. “

Bucky nods his head before turning around and walking back into the night.

As he takes the way back to his own home, there are only two things on Bucky’s mind: the vulnerability of falling in love and the question of who the hell Mike Wazowski was.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #mcu imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction

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whendidyou-leaveheaven · 3 years

Text

on the idea of exploiting your own sexuality...

I feel the the terrible need to unpack the whole Anthony Mackie comment and the way I see people treating it.

This is why I wish people would stop asking actors about fandom’s response. I don’t care what the actors think of gay people shipping them, and the actors shouldn’t really have to be presented with loaded questions about that anyway, because they are always going to be damned if they agree and damned if they don’t. And it’s different when you have someone who is creating the content they put out directly like say, Neil Gaiman, who is great about open conversation with fans, he makes a thing and someone messages him and asks what he thinks about the sexuality of a character in said thing and he can fully, with authority, tell people his take on it or tell them it is up to them to see it however they want.

Actors don’t write their characters. They interpret them and play them the way they are usually directed to, and yes sometimes they have more say in the development of characters than other times. Do I think Castiel would have dropped that “I love you” if not for Misha Collins? Absolutely not. Do I think the directors would have let Jensen say it back if he wanted to? Absolutely not.

Anthony Mackie is what I sort of consider old school good natured, like he means well and obviously isn’t trying to tear down queer people but he also hasn’t analyzed things a million times over like everyone online in fandom has.

He has a point which I have considered myself, about the juxtaposition of two things: erasing toxic masculinity and allowing men to have feelings, and providing gay representation...

Can the two coexist? In some ways it does seem like a potentially bad thing when people try very hard to make a ship happen, because supposedly that would reinforce the toxic masculine idea that any sensitivity or vulnerability between men is GAY. And gay is weak and bad. And therefor when we call every male friendship gay we are propping up toxic masculinity and the idea that men cannot be too close or else.

Wow. What a fucked up dynamic right? How can you be gay and reinforce toxic masculinity at the same time?

So here’s why I don’t fully agree with this perspective though. Because,

So what!! So what if your friendship is gay? It’s actually toxic masculinity that is telling you it can’t be! And if it were fine, then it wouldn't matter. Because over half the world still believes these characters are straight and will always be straight. Hell, even I think they are straight (kinda) I just like shipping some people because it’s satisfying to me but I would never in hell go and ask uh, say Henry Cavill what he thinks of this fanfic I wrote. You know?

Male friendship has always been portrayed in media forever and even though it hasn’t been as soft and open as it is now, it exists. Whereas women in media are always pitted against one another as jealous rivals, we are moving away from that idea but historically it has been a thing that women cannot be friends because then they might challenge the status quo together basically, and then start fighting for themselves instead of over a man.

We have some gay representation now in the media but so far I don’t think that any of the canon gay rep involves characters that are all that interesting (ironically that’s not the case with f/f ships, we have a few really good ones right now) or vibe with us on the level that these other characters we love do. So of course those are the ones we end up shipping.

I’m already getting long winded so to wrap this up, my point is: yes Anthony is correct, and yes he is also wrong. He’s a good captain america and I don’t think this is some excuse to say “steve is the real one cuz anthony said we shouldn’t ship it.”

Is projecting gay iconology onto too many close male friendships actually hurting gay people and keeping them from having their own representation?

Eeeeehhh,

we have been doing that since Achilles and Patroclus existed and even then you had people on both sides of the story still saying there was no way they could be lovers when it was explicitly stated. If it were female characters we were discussing would we say the same thing- oh wait, we can’t because we have already sexualized women together in literally any scenario (just look at any fashion magazine before 2010, why are these women in a perfume ad naked together??). The world is changing, we do have more diverse representation than ever before, and toxic masculinity (I am referring specifically to the Hollywood-centric production part of the world, not necessarily on a global scale) is dissolving at it’s root, however slowly. It is no more homophobic to say two male friends might love each other in a gay way than it is to say two male friends love each other in a platonic way. The two are not mutually exclusive.They are gay and they aren’t gay are actually two concepts that can exist at once without hurting anyone.

#marvel #mcu #anthony mackie #stucky #sambucky #fandom rant #captain america #tfatws

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hoe4almondmilk · 3 years

Text

Safety Net: Chapter 2

Present! Carol Denning/Reader

It’s been three days since you’ve been at max and it’s been honestly quite awful. You stared at the tray of food in front of you poking at it with your fork instead of eating it, you weren’t hungry and you were restless from not being able to sleep. Who could even sleep here? The lights are on constantly.

“Making art, (L/N)?” you looked up to see who the familiar voice belonged to, it was Piper with her fiancée Alex. Piper was starting to become a little more tolerable now that she was reunited with Alex. You were happy for them and honestly glad to have them here with you even if you were never particularly close with either of them during your time up at camp.

“I don’t know if I’d call it art but it’s something.” you chuckled, continuing picking at the food. “I miss camp, I feel like I'm always on edge here.”

“I definitely agree with that, sleeping with this fuckin broken arm hasn’t been pleasant.” Alex replied as she began eating her food. God, you almost felt nauseous watching someone eat. Food disgusted you right now. “You’re not pulling a Sister Ingalls are you?” Alex asked half jokingly but also sounding a little concerned.

“No, I just haven’t had much of an appetite lately, I feel sick looking at food, it’s probably just my anxiety. Also the food here looks repulsive..” you sighed.

“I don’t blame you, I would feel anxious too if I was sharing a bunk with the head of C-Block.” said Piper.

You turned your head to the left over where Carol was, she was playing cards surrounded by her posse. You and Carol haven’t really spoken much or been around each other since she basically scared you off the other day. It was kind of an unspoken rule, if Carol was in the room you stayed out of her way and hung around somewhere else until she came out which was pretty often since she was mostly out here playing cards. You were so deep in thought you forgot you were still looking in carol’s direction when you snapped back to reality you saw her staring straight at you with an emotionless expression, you quickly looked away.

“She’s actually not that bad, I mean besides telling me to get the fuck out the other day. She’s quiet and clean. except for when she’s looking at those magazines of men, that’s when it gets a little uncomfortable. I feel more sorry for you being bunkmates with Badison, Chapman.” you chuckled as Piper’s eyes rolled hearing her roomie’s name.

“Oh please don’t get her started, it will never end.” Alex groaned, rubbing her temple with her functioning hand.

“She’s giving you trouble?” You asked, actually concerned.

“Trouble doesn’t even begin to describe it. She’s a bully!” Piper exclaimed. “There is something deeply wrong with her.” Piper was normally a pretty dramatic person but you knew she wasn’t exaggerating when she was talking about Badison. You’ve only known Badison for a few days but there really was something wrong with her.

“I think there’s something deeply wrong with everyone here.” Alex replied. “They’re in maximum security for a reason.”

“I wonder what Carol did.” You said thinking out loud. “Everyone obeys her, shit even Badison is scared of her.”

“All I know is that one of her girls, Creech, is my bunkmate and I want no trouble.” Alex said, continuing to eat her food.

“Aw, look at that, all of the new cookies eatin’ together. What is this a fuckin pride parade?” you recognized that god awful bostonian accent, it was Badison as she began to sit down at your table.

“Well you know what they say about us gays, we hang out in flocks.” Alex replied sarcastically. You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle.

“I would’ve never guessed you were a carpet muncher, Mouse. I guess you learn something new everyday.” said Badison. “I better be careful, don’t want you developing a crush on me or anything.”

“I’m picky with my women, you have nothing to worry about.” Your eyes widened realizing you said that out loud. It would’ve been an awkward silence if it wasn’t for Alex’s small chuckles.

“Oh you’re a funny little thing, now aren't you?” Badison replied, still shocked by what you just said.

“I meant that I'm not really interested in dating while i’m in prison, you know?” you said trying to cover your ass for what you just said.

“I got what you meant.” Badison said slowly coming closer to you. “You should really be more careful with who you smart off too though. Don’t wanna start off on the wrong foot with anyone here. Remember what I said on your first day. We can make you want to live or die.” Badison whispered and walked her way over towards Carol.

“I’m so fucked.” You said worryingly.

“Badison’s not gonna do shit, she just wants to scare you two.” Alex said, trying to comfort you.

You nodded. You looked over your shoulder once more to see Badison next to Carol as she played a card game with the other girls. You couldn’t help but feel a small pit of worry in your stomach.

Later that evening a few hours before lights out, you decided to go take a shower, something you had been avoiding for the past few days. It’s not that you were unhygienic, it's just you had been slightly depressed from the big transition of moving from up the hill to down the hill.

You took a quick look around the shower room, thank god it was empty. Empty showers were a rarity in any prison.

It was when you were washing your hair that you heard a couple of footsteps walking in. Well, that was a nice five minutes of peace and quiet. You ignored it and continued to rinse the shampoo out of your hair. Suddenly, you felt an arm wrap around your chest and something pointy and sharp being pressed against your right jugular.

“If you scream, I swear to god I will push this into your neck. You got that?” You nodded trying to hold back your tears. The arms around you flip you over and you’re faced to see two of Badison’s friends Eckelcamp and Teng.

“What did I do?” you asked quietly and shakily, almost choking trying to hold back your tears. You’ve mostly kept to yourself this whole time here, actively trying to avoid any trouble, you certainly don’t remember doing anything to these two. This is the first time you’ve even spoken to them.

“You disrespected Badison, bitch.” Eckelcamp said, still extremely close to your face. She wrapped her hand around your neck tightly with the shiv still firmly pressed against your neck. You were barely able to breathe. “Next time Badison talks to you, have some fucking manners.” she said slamming your back hard against the shower wall. You did your best to hold back a yelp. Getting stabbed in the neck with a dirty shiv was not the move for today.

“Next time you see her, apologize.” said Teng, “We’ll be watching. Let’s get out of here before a CO comes.”

Eckelcamp nodded in agreement and looked at you once more and yanked your hair pulling you down to the hard wet tile of the bathroom and left.

You waited till you heard their footsteps disappear to crawl into a ball and sob under the now cold running water of the shower. So this is what Badison meant when she said live or die. Your hands gently rubbed your possibly bruised neck. You finished your shower and got dressed before anyone walked in and saw you like this.

Once you returned to the common room, your eyes scanned the room for Badison. You looked over at Carol’s table, her usual spot but she was absent. You met eyes with Eckelcamp and Teng. Ignoring them you made your way to Badison and Piper’s cell. You really hated the fact that you were being practically forced to apologize to her but this bitch was not worth a stab in the neck with a dirty shiv.

Once you got to the cell you saw Badison laying on her bunk and Piper in hers reading a book. You lightly knocked on the open door.

“Hey, (L/N).” Piper said smiling but her smile quickly faded almost as if she could sense something not right with you.

“Hey, Chapman.” you smiled trying to not seem suspicious, as much as you liked Piper she had a tendency to involve herself in situations that she didn’t belong in.

“The fuck do you want, Mouse?” Badison asked sarcastically as she laid up from her bunk. She knew exactly what the fuck you wanted.

“I was wondering if I could have a word with you.” You asked. “Out here. In Private.”

“Whatever you need to say you can say it here with me and Gapman.”

“Please, Badison.” You were trying to hide the impatience in your voice. Piper was already looking at you suspiciously.

“Only because you said please.” Badison said she climbed down her bunk making her way out the bunk.

You walked over under the stairs. “I wanted to formally apologize to you for disrespecting you.” You said trying to sound sincere.

“I see you met Eckelcamp and Teng.” She chuckled looking at your neck. “Oh, those are gonna be some ugly bruises tomorrow.”

“It’s not like I have anyone to look beautiful for here.” you said rubbing your neck.

“Aw, you don’t wanna look pretty for your lesbo girlfriends.” Badison said, as she made a pouty face.

“You mean Chapman and Vause? Just because we’re gay doesn’t mean we’re dating eachother.” You were actually confused. Was she actually that dumb?

“What?” She looked visibly confused. “Anyway, That was a shitty apology.”

“What do you want from me, Badison?” You said already fed up.

“I don’t like you. I can look past that though if you fill up my commissary for the next two weeks. Don’t be stingy with me, (L/N). I know you got plenty of money.” She said with that sleazy fucking smile.

“Fine, deal.” You really didn’t want to do this but you also didn’t want anymore trouble with Badison or the rest of Carol’s gang.

“I accept your apology.” Badison said.

As you were about to turn around to leave you felt Badison’s foot slide under yours causing you to trip and fall hard on the ground. You heard Badison let out a loud laugh. You could feel your eyes well up with tears again and this time you didn’t even bother to stop them from flowing. Let them see you cry, you didn’t care anymore.

“Oops.” Badison said as she continued to laugh.

“(L/N), are you okay?” You heard Piper's voice as she tried to help you up. You must have hit the floor hard enough if Piper heard you fall from her cell.

“I’m fine, Chapman. Just go, don’t make this worse for the both of us.” You snapped as you stood up from the ground. You wanted to yelp from the shock of pain that shot through your body.

You looked over to see everyone at Carol’s table laughing, except for Carol. Your red puffy tear filled eyes locked with hers for a second. You looked away embarrassed. You hurried as fast as you could up the stairs to your cell. You wanted to lay down and hope you woke up from this fucking nightmare.

As soon as you reached your cell you climbed to the top bunk and crawled up into a small ball and just sobbed. You hated being seen as weak here. You didn’t like giving these people that power over you but you couldn’t help it. You were so wrong on your first day, you were finally beginning to crack. You weren’t sure how long you were crying but your sobs finally turned to small sniffles.

“You new cookies really do crumble quickly.” You heard that stern cold voice say. You lifted your head up to meet eyes with Carol. This is the second time she’s ever actually spoken to you. You quickly wiped your tears away. “Are you gonna say something or are you just gonna keep looking at me all pitiful?” Carol said as she leaned against the wall of the cell with her arms crossed.

“I don’t really have anything to say.” You continued to sniffle. “At least not without having to worry about getting shanked in the shower.”

“Oh, so that explains your neck.” Carol chuckled.

Damn was it really that noticeable already?

“I thought you would’ve known, your girls are the ones who did it.” You replied with a slight attitude putting your head back down.

“Whatever Badison has the other girls do has nothing to do with me.” Carol replied.

“I’ve been here for three days and you’ve never bothered to speak to me. Why the sudden change?” You asked.

“Am I bothering you?” Carol replied almost as if she was slightly offended.

“No, you’re not. Sorry, that sounded a lot ruder than it did in my head.” You rubbed your eyes, Please don’t beat my ass. You prayed. You had enough ass beatings for the rest of your sentence.

“I’m talking to you because I believe you have potential, (L/N).” Carol said with a slight smirk.

“Potential?” You asked, confused. What the hell does she mean by that?

“I want you to work for me. I can tell you’re smarter than most of these other girls here. It also makes sense considering the fact that we are sharing a cell together.” Carol said. She did have a point. Carol was not someone to be enemies with.

“I mean I guess. Look Carol, I’m just trying to keep my nose clean, do my time and-“

“And what? Avoid getting in any trouble? What happens if you get into another disagreement with another inmate and she starts a fight with you? You’re gonna get fed up with being someone’s punching bag and you’ll fight back. The COs aren’t going to see it as self defense. They’ll happily throw you into the SHU and add more time onto your sentence. Stick by me and I’ll make sure Badison or any other girls never lay a finger on you.” Carol did make a good point. “See me as a type of safety net, if you will.”

“Can you give me time to think about it?” You asked not sure if you would be able to do it.

“The offer is off the table then. Continue getting your ass beat. It’s not hurting me.” Carol said, trying to hide her annoyance.

You sat and thought about it for a minute. You knew you weren’t going to be able to just continue getting beat on. You were going to break at some point. You looked up at Carol and took a deep breath in.

“Okay, I’ll do it.” You had three years left on your sentence, that’s not a lot of time, you could do this.

“Shake on it.” Carol said coming up to you with her hand out.

You looked at her, a small smile forming at the corners of your lips. “Okay, boss.” You said as you shook her hand.

“Sit down here kid, I’m gonna show you how to play Bridge.” Carol said sitting on her bed as she began to shuffle a deck of cards.

“Bridge? Is that the game you’re always playing?” you asked as you slowly began to crawl off the top bed. Trying to ignore the pain in your sore arms and legs.

“Yep, It’s best I teach you now, you’re going to be playing a lot of it.” Carol said, laying out the cards in front of you as you sat down. “Shall we begin?”

What the hell am I getting myself into. You thought to yourself as you watched Carol explain bridge to you.

Chapter 3 here

#OITNB #Orange is the new black #orange is the new black fanfic #fanfics #carol denning x reader #carol denning #carol denning/reader

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cacoetheswriting · 4 years

Text

unrequited love - spencer reid

Warnings: mild cursing, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of murder, usual criminal minds stuff tbh Word Count: 2.6k Requested By: anonymous : “can you write a spencer reid fic? something ansgsty maybe..”.

No one understands why you do certain things even when you know you're never going to get anything back. - Shahul Hussain

QUANTICO, VIRGINA

The smell of freshly brewed coffee was probably your favourite, especially at ungodly hours of the morning. Closing your eyes for a brief moment you could feel a sort of calm and warmth surround you. The aroma slowly awoke your senses. Your lips touched the brim of the white mug in your hand and you took a slow sip.

“Good morning Y/L/N.” Derek Morgan appeared beside you. You looked up at him from your mug. “I brought you a coffee but I can see you couldn't wait.” He joked holding up a paper cup. “You know me Derek, I’ll take all the caffeine I can get.” You replied grabbing the cup from him. “Especially at four in the morning.” Derek smirked. “Yeah, they have to stop doing that to us.”

With two coffees in hand, you made your way to the conference room. The rest of the team was already there. You sat at your usual seat, placing the coffees on the table in front of you, and turned your attention to the screen.

“Morning my lovelies.” Penelope began. “I would say good but there is nothing good about it given the case we have been asked to wor-” “Garcia.” Hotch interrupted briefly encouraging her to get to the point. “Right. Yes. No time to waste.” Penelope cleared her throat and fixed her glasses.

“Last night, twenty-five year old Millie Moore didn't return home after her shift at a bar in Riverside, California. Her body was discovered this morning in a dumpster behind her workplace.”

“The killer wanted her to be found.” JJ stated. There was a brief pause before Penelope continued.

“The kidnapping and murder was linked to four other cases in the state of California spanning over the last month.” The images filled the screen causing you to clench your fists in disgust.

The small rather insignificant action was observed by the brunette man sitting across from you. Unnoticed by everyone else at the table, Spencer’s eyes focused on your hands before travelling up to your face. He examined the look spread across your features, trying to figure out what was on your mind.

“He definitely has a type.” Rossi noticed. “Any signs of sexual assault?” Derek questioned. “Yes, actually all of the victims displayed signs of uhm.” Garcia couldn’t bare to finish her sentence.

“Given the small cooling off period between each victim, we need to assume the unsub has his next target already picked out.” Hotch stated. “Garcia can finish briefing us on the plane. Wheels up in twenty.”

The group nodded at each other and all got up from their seats - all but you. For some reason you couldn't avert your eyes from the gruesome images that filled the screen.

“Y/N...” Spencer’s soft whisper brought you back to reality. He stood just a few steps away. You titled your head to look at him noticing a concerned look spread on his face. “They look like me Spence. The victims, they all look like me.”

Spencer cleared his throat. “Humans in fact, aren’t that genetically diverse. So eventually, the numbers would dictate that certain features resembling yours and another persons will randomly combine.” He paused.

“But that doesn’t mean they are an exact duplicate of you.” He smiled hoping you would smile back. “You’re right, sorry. It’s just a little weird.” “We’ve had weirder.” Spencer said as you got to your feet. The young doctor grabbed one of the coffees for you as you grabbed the other and followed you out to the pit.

“You know caffeine increases alertness by blocking a brain chemical called adenosine that makes you feel tired, while at the same time triggering the release of adrenalin that’s known to increase energy.” Spencer stated placing the coffee cup he was holding on your desk.

“If the amount of caffeine is high enough, these effects are stronger, resulting in caffeine-induced anxiety.” You finished the fact for him, slightly rolling your eyes. “Yes Spence, I know. You tell me this every time I have more than one mug in the morning.” The smart doctor shrugged smiling at you. He grabbed his go-bag from underneath his desk and waited for you.

The friendship you shared with Spencer was an odd one. The two of you were quite close when you were still at the academy. He helped you study for all your tests and was always one to share tips on how to complete certain tasks.

A couple of years go by without contact. At that point you were a field agent in New York, which is where you reconnected on a case. The spark was instant although neither of you wanted to admit it. This time Spencer stayed in touch. It was clear then that whatever undiscovered feelings he had for you back when you first met resurfaced - but you weren’t ready to explore whether you felt the same.

Next thing you know you were getting a call from Aaron Hotchner with an offer to join the BAU. Something, you later found out, Spencer had fought to get organised.

It felt like you played with his heart. To an outsider it probably even looked like that - he fell in love with a girl and landed her a dream job in hopes that she would love him back.

RIVERSIDE, CALIFORNIA

“What if we’re dealing with a disgruntled boyfriend or husband?” JJ posed the question. “He lost someone in his life that resembled the victims.” “Then why kill them?” Derek questioned.

The team was gathered around a conference table brainstorming. Spencer was the only one not sitting down, not unusual for Dr. Reid. He was pacing around the bullpen talking on the phone, probably with Penelope.

Your eyes lingered on the back of his head for a moment through the glass window. Something Derek noticed immediately. “Where’s your head at Y/L/N?” You turned your attention to the rest of the team. “What if JJ is right in a way? But rather than a significant other, what if the unsub was rejected by these women or someone who looks like them?”

Derek nodded his head in understanding. Your eyes scanned the team waiting for anyone sitting at the table to suggest something else. It was Rossi who opened his mouth next however whatever was on his mind was interrupted by Spencer storming into the room.

“Where’s your mind at pretty boy?” Derek questioned leaning back in his chair. “I spoke with Garcia. All of the victims had social media accounts and tagged-” He approached the map pinned to one of the boards. “- three different spots in this location before they were murdered.” With a red pen, Spencer circled one area on the map.

“The hunting ground.” Rossi stated and everyone else nodded.

“Let’s split up.” Hotch began. “Reid, go with Y/L/N. Derek and Rossi, and JJ you’re with me. I’ll get Garcia to send us the exact addresses, hopefully one of these places will bring us a step closer to catching the unsub.”

The team got to their feet and one by one left the conference room, leaving you alone with Spencer. “Ready partner?” He asked smiling at you. “Always.”

It didn't take long to get there, traffic was unusually quiet for California. Plus whenever you’re with Spencer the conversation flow makes the moments pass by quickly - you never run out of things to talk about.

“Looks closed.” You said getting out of the car, shutting the door behind you. “Strange, it’s the middle of the day.” Spencer noted as he walked around the hood. The two of you glanced at each other before moving forward towards the entrance of the coffee shop.

The door wasn't locked so you made your way inside. A small ‘ding’ from the bell above your heads signalised you have entered the premises. An eerie feeling came over you.

The lights were switched off. The chairs were placed neatly on the tables. Menus were carefully stacked beside the register, sugar bowls placed in a row along the countertop. A wet floor sign was placed in the middle of the room. You walked around it carefully, that’s when you noticed the strong smell.

“Is that?” You asked looking at Spencer. “It smells like bleach.” The young doctor stated back, his hand travelled to his gun. Slowly, with one hand on your weapon holster, you made your way around the countertop. That’s when you felt someone grab you from behind. A shriek escaped your mouth getting Spencer’s attention.

The unknown male held your arms behind your back as he led you back towards the middle of the coffee shop - using you as a human shield. He kicked over the yellow sign and stopped. You could feel his hot breath against your skin, it made you sick. “Let her go.” Spencer stated sternly, pointing his gun.

“I’m going to walk out of here.” The male said. “And you’re going to let me.” You watched Spencer shake his head. “I can’t let you do that.” His response wasn't what the man wanted to hear. Frustrated, he drew your weapon from the holster and placed it to your temple causing the air to catch in your throat.

“How about now?” The man sounded angrier. He could sense your fear, just like you could sense Spencer’s. The young doctor met your gaze briefly before looking back at the man holding you.

“What’s your name?” Spencer asked. The man scoffed. “I’m not telling you shit!” “Tell me your name and maybe we can sort something out.” Spencer said calmly, his gun still pointing in your direction.

There was a brief moment of heavy silence before the man snarled: “You first.”

“My name is Dr. Spencer Reid and the woman you are now holding at gunpoint, that’s Agent Y/N Y/L/N.” You could feel the man shift, as if he was trying to get a better look at you before he turned his attention to Spencer again. “Theo.” He said simply.

“Nice to meet you Theo. How old are you Theo?” “What’s that got to do with anything?!”

Your whole body was shaking at this point.

“O-okay Theo. Tell me this instead, why did you kill all of those women?” “I didn’t hurt anyone!” Theo snapped. “Only a guilty man would hold a federal agent at gunpoint.” Spencer pointed out. “Shut up!” Theo lowered the gun from your temple and pointed it at Spencer. A lone tear escaped the corner of your eye.

“Why did you kill them Theo?” Spencer asked again.

“They deserved it.” Theo answered after a brief moment of silence. “They hurt me!” “How did they hurt you Theo?” The man’s grip around you tightened. “They just hurt me!” He screamed. “Now let me go or I swear, she’s next!” The gun was back at your temple.

Spencer met your scared gaze. The look in his eye was almost as if to say everything was going to be okay, that he was going to get you out of this. You tried to smile. You even mouthed “It’s okay.” at which Spencer’s jaw locked - he wasn’t going to lose you, not like this.

“Those women hurt you Theo? I know exactly what that feels like.” Spencer said calmly. “Being hurt by someone you love.” You could feel Theo nod against your head. His grip loosened slightly.

“Do you know what unrequited love is Theo?” Spencer asked and without waiting for a response continued. “It’s love not reciprocated or returned. It’s when you love someone and they don't love you back, they don't acknowledge your love.” Spencer stated. At this point you were crying. Lone droplets escaped your eyes and traced down your cheeks.

“That’s how those women made you feel, right? As if you weren’t worthy to love them.” Spencer said. You could feel the hurt in his voice.

“They didn't see me.” Theo said, his voice shaky. “They didn't care!” He exclaimed taking a step forward. In doing so, his grip around you loosened completely and you were able to turn around while grabbing his arm that was holding the gun.

Theo kneed you in the stomach causing you to fall back a little. When you looked up he had the gun pointed at you.

“If you shoot her, I shoot you.” Spencer said sternly, his weapon once again drawn and pointed at the unsub. Theo scoffed. “She's the one that hurt you, isn't she?” Spencer didn't respond. “I figure I’d be doing you a favour then.”

The sound of the gun being cocked caused your heart to stop. Yet Spencer was quicker. He fired one shot, hitting Theo in the shoulder. This enabled you to overpower the unsub and disarm him.

“Call for backup.” The young doctor said kneeling down beside you. “Spence-” “Call for backup.” He repeated without looking at you. Without saying another word, that’s exactly what you did.

BAU Jet

The sound of silence filled the plane. Everyone was exhausted to say the least, and catching up on necessary sleep. Yet every time you closed your eyes you felt uncomfortable. Spencer’s words from the coffeeshop kept ringing in your ears, the broken look on his face overwhelmed your brain.

Slowly, you got to your feet and walked down the jet. The young doctor was sitting alone at the back of the aircraft, head buried in a book.

“Hey.” You whispered loud enough to get his attention. His head popped up, his eyes met yours. “Hi.”

“Mind if I sit down?” You asked politely pointing to the empty seat. “Not at all. Make yourself comfortable.” He placed the book down as you made yourself comfortable.

“Can’t sleep?” “I could ask you the same thing.” Spencer replied. “Well, having a gun pointed to your head isn’t exactly dreaming material.” You breathed with a soft smile. Spencer nodded his head.

There was a brief moment of silence.

“I wanted to thank you.” You said. “For saving my life.” “I was just doing my job.” Spencer replied. “Right.” You sighed and leaned your head back on the chair, breaking eye contact.

“Y/N-” “I’m sorry Spencer.” You interrupted. Confused, the young doctor asked: “Why are you apologising?” “For hurting you.” Slowly, you tilted your head to once again look at the brown haired man. His head was down, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt.

“I’m sorry for making you feel as if you weren't worthy.” “I just said that to get the unsub’s attention. I said that so he would let you go.” “We both know that's not true Spencer.”

The young doctor sighed. “I don't know what you want me to say Y/N.” He whispered while turning his head in your direction. “You don't need to say anything.”

Spencer lifted his hand and slowly using one finger placed a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he did. A shiver ran down your spine at the touch.

“I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.” Spencer said, his hand now holding your face. “However, you made it obvious you don’t feel that way about me so I’ve done my best to just be your friend.” He sighed. “Y/N it’s getting really hard to just be your friend.”

He let his hand fall before shifting his body weight away from you. He leaned his head against the aircraft and looked out the window.

Tears formed in your eyes. “Spence.” You whispered but he didn't respond. Instead, the young doctor closed his eyes.

You knew better than to keep pushing. With your fingers, you wiped the tears from your face and made yourself comfortable before also closing your eyes.

Hoping you’d drift asleep quickly your mind wondered. Tomorrow, you would talk to him again tomorrow and everything would be just fine. Right?

Never pretend to a love which you do not actually feel, for love is not ours to command. - Alan Watts

masterlist

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst

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belizedeservesbetter · 3 years

Text

Six is Super Fun But Also Kinda Bad

sorry not sorry ‘bout what i said...

In a way, I’m not entirely convinced Six is actually a musical. It feels more like a concert than anything, with a paper thin plot and dialogue that had me constantly cringing. However, much like a concert, I was there for the music and the music was of course fantastic.

To begin, I want to say that I won the $30 lottery seats for this, which put me in the front row. To be very honest, I would not have paid any more than that to see this show. It is only about 70 minutes long and is again very much a concert and not a musical so I really couldn’t justify paying even a TKTS price for it. Unfortunately, the cheaper seats are usually in the back of the theater and this is very much a show where you want to be as close as possible.

I really expected to be blown away by this show, but honestly? I was more disappointed than anything. The plot is genuinely bad and the dialogue is genuinely awful (filled to the brim with “lol” and social media references) and I’ll definitely be going into spoiler territory here but honestly it doesn’t even matter because there isn’t enough plot to hold the weight of a spoiler in the first place.

So basically the premise is these six queens are performing this show for you (how? why? don’t think too hard on it) since they have decided to form a girl group but will now hold a contest to see who had it worst with Henry VIII to see who will become the leader of the girl group - even though girl groups don’t really have leaders but again don’t think too hard on this. The six queens then each sing a song about their life and somehow skip all the actual interesting details about themselves before Catherine Parr (wife #6) is like guys WAIT we shouldn’t be pitting ourselves against each other! We should be feminist and be a TEAM and then they all turn to the audience and are like ACTUALLY we were a team all along and this was all a trick to get us the audience to see how bad comparing women is. Why was it a trick? Didn’t we already know comparing women is bad? Anyways, this “plot twist” occurs like ten minutes before the show ends and is just... kinda there? It’s very much a “oh okay” moment where you really can’t do anything but accept it for what it is because we know they’re gonna do the big MegaSix number at the end and that’s the best part anyway.

But like I said before, the music is super fun and super catchy and in the moment is an absolute BLAST. So I had a fantastic time watching it because it’s a fun time, but once you give the show one single shred of thought it kind of falls apart completely.

Also, the costumes are super gorgeous and I loved getting a front row seat to see all the details. I visited the Showstoppers NYC! exhibit in August and got to speak with one of the guys who hand makes Katherine Howard’s costume so it was very cool getting to see them all live and in person.

Since the cast is only six people, I’ll go through them all (and their songs) one by one. Uniformly they were great, but I will admit that almost none of them stayed in character unless it was their turn to have their number. I blame this on the weird and clunky choreography, which is so excessive and so many moves that make them all look like robots.

First up is Catherine of Aragon, played by Adrianna Hicks. She sings “No Way” which is a fantastic first song of the Queen Competition. She really commanded the stage and was super interactive with the audience.

Next up is Anne Boleyn, played by Andrea Macasaet. Her song is “Don’t Lose Ur Head” and it’s the best song in the show. It will in fact be stuck in my head forever and I loved how bubbly and fun Macasaet was! She is so tiny but her energy filled the entire theater! Her costume is also my favorite of the queens.

However, as much as I loved her performance, I do take issue with how Anne Boleyn is portrayed. In actuality, Anne Boleyn was wicked smart and very religious and was not the ditzy having fun all day long person that she’s portrayed as. Her sister was Henry’s mistress and Anne really didn’t want to get involved with him. She was more interested in religion than anything else.

(and a side note, something I found odd was Catherine of Aragon’s brief mention of Mary but Anne Boleyn not bringing up Elizabeth at all. She even jokes about writing lyrics for Shakespeare in a better version of her life but Elizabeth was not only one of the most influential queens England had but also saw Shakespeare’s plays)

Which brings us to Jane Seymour, played by the lovely Abby Mueller, who looks and sounds strikingly like her sister. Unfortunately, Mueller is given the very worst song in the show in “Heart of Stone.” Oh man. This is a bad one. It’s the lowest energy song and has the worst lyrics and since you know the song is literally about Henry VIII you absolutely cannot get behind it. It’s a shame, because Mueller is giving the best performance in the show, and also the most consistent one!!

This brings me to my wider Jane Seymour Problem. Jane’s whole character is basically “wait but actually I loved him” and the show kinda brushes aside the whole fact of Henry being completely awful whenever it comes to Seymour. Anne Boleyn does chime in a couple times with a “but he literally beheaded me” but Seymour is consistently trying to spin it around. The show doesn’t know how to navigate the fact that Henry probably only loved her because she gave him a son and that very little is actually known about this woman. In Jane’s little “better version of her life” in the last song, she actually pairs herself with Henry as a long term relationship/family thing, even though the whole point of the song before is that they don’t need Henry? Make it make sense, Six! Make it make sense!

I’m gonna skip right over “Haus of Holbein” because that song was stupid and that whole sequence was stupid.

Luckily the next song was way better, with Brittney Mack’s Anna of Cleves bringing down the house with “Get Down.” On the cast album, “Get Down” is the one I always skip but I don’t think I will anymore because Mack was incredible. She made that song one of the absolute highlights of the show. She was absolutely fantastic.

Usually Katherine Howard is played by Samantha Pauly, but she was out and tonight the character was played by Courtney Mack, who was really wonderful. She can Sing with a capital S! “All You Wanna Do” is a really great song and it actually dives into interesting emotional territory and I wish more of the songs had that! I wish the show had more of that!! K Howard is usually the one no one talks about so I was glad she had a really good song that really laid out her life in a fairly raw way.

Coming in at song number six is “I Don’t Need Your Love,” sung by Anna Uzele’s Catherine Parr. Uzele has a lovely voice but her song is kinda boring and the fact that it’s tied so tightly with the “plot twist” is kind of a let down.

Then the six queens all sing a song (called “Six”) about what they would have liked their lives to be, and most of them are kind of absurd and have to do with becoming pop stars even though that wasn’t a thing back in Tudor England.

Ultimatey, the show is ridiculously fun but has absolutely nothing to say, even though the show really thinks it’s saying something about feminism and history. It doesn’t. It really doesn’t. The closest it gets is “All You Wanna Do” and even then that’s barely breaking the surface. The show is also very high energy and high fun, so they expect you the audience to also gloss over all the inaccuracies and weird Jane Seymour stuff.

This show is being built up as this pinnacle of feminist theatre but honestly it’s mostly mediocre writing that’s saved by catchy songs and powerhouse performers.

Looking back at this review, it does look pretty negative but I swear I had a really good time! I swear it’s very fun! It just isn’t anything more than that.

#six #six the musical #broadway #review #queendom

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suituuup · 4 years

Text

shine

Beca and Chloe meet during Pride

Word count: 2,7k

Rating: T

ao3 link

inbox open to prompts!

It was Stacie’s idea.

Of course it was. Everything that leads to Beca asking herself what the fuck she’s doing here can often be linked back to Stacie fucking Conrad.

Beca’s got a few examples to argue her case. That time she ended up in the ER on New Year’s Eve because Stacie thought riding a Segway while being drunk would be super fun, or when they got stuck in a snowstorm while driving up to Vermont that one year and nearly froze to death.

So when Stacie suggested a few days back that they go to the Pride parade, Beca initially said no. Don’t get her wrong; she’s all for the event, she just doesn’t do well with crowds. That Friday before the parade happens to be one of Beca’s worst days at work probably since the start of her career though, so when Stacie insisted she should tag along with her and Amy, Beca rolled her eyes, huffed, and eventually agreed, because what the hell.

She doesn’t know it yet, as she stands in packed 7th avenue that hot and humid Saturday afternoon, but she’ll be so glad she decided to go to Pride.

Right now though, she’s struggling for breath as panic slowly creeps into her body, tangling around her limbs and making her legs feel as heavy as lead. There are people everywhere, the music is pounding against her skull and it’s just too fucking hot.

“I’ll be right back,” she tells Stacie, curling a hand around her wrist to get her attention. “Check your phone if I lose you guys?”

“Yeah, you got it.”

Beca uncomfortably weaves through the crowd, muttering various apologies to the few people she bumps into as she keeps her eyes fastened on the sidewalk. The knots in her chest tighten when she reaches an adjacent street, leaning against the wall and tilting her head back. She’s focused on her chopped breathing and willing her heart to slow the fuck down when a voice cuts through the fog clouding her brain.

“Hey, you okay?”

Her eyes snap open to find twin twinkles of bright blue staring at her in concern, standing out despite the colorful rainbows painted on the woman’s cheeks that should steal Beca’s attention.

“I’m uh,” Beca winces, bracing a hand on her chest when her breathing derails even more. “Not really. I’m having a sort of panic attack.”

“Oh shit, okay, um--” The redhead glances around them, then focuses back on Beca. “Anything I can do?”

Beca shakes her head, her eyes screwing shut as she goes through the 5-5-5 breathing technique a few times, until her lungs don’t feel as deprived of oxygen as before.

The redhead is still standing there when she opens her eyes. She fishes into her tote bag, pulling out a bottle of water and extending it to Beca. “Here. It’s still capped.”

“Thanks,” Beca mutters, taking the cool bottle from her and drinking a few sips. She takes a few beats to observe the other woman as she hands the bottle back. She’s wearing a white shirt with a cute dinosaur waving a pride flag, faded denim shorts and sneakers, and has got a camera slung across her chest. “You’re a photographer?”

“Yeah. Well, not professionally, but hoping to become one someday.” She extends her hand, that genuine smile still in place. “I’m Chloe.”

Beca flushes, knowing her hand is probably clammy and disgusting compared to how soft Chloe’s feels. “Beca.”

“First Pride?”

Beca nods. “Yeah, and kinda regretting it.” She scrunches up her nose when she realizes how that might come across. “Not because of-- I think it’s great that it exists, I mean, I’m not straight so of course I don’t have anything against Pride itself.” God, just shut up. “I just don’t like crowds. Or the heat.”

Chloe hums, seemingly barely able to keep her amusement at bay. “I kinda need a break, too. Wanna come check out the Stonewall exhibit at the public library with me?” She raises an eyebrow, then adds, “Less people and AC…”

Any other day, Beca would have probably said no. But the journey back to Brooklyn if she goes home now will most likely be slow and painful, and she kinda wants to hang out with Chloe, for reasons she can’t explain as they’ve only ‘known’ each other less than five minutes and Beca is usually wary about strangers.

“Sure, why not. Let me just shoot a text to my friends.”

Once she tells Stacie not to worry about her, Beca follows Chloe through the crowd, Chloe’s hand finding hers before they get in the thick of the crowd.

“So we don’t lose each other,” Chloe says over her shoulder, winking softly. She doesn’t let go even when they reach quieter streets, but weirdly Beca doesn’t mind.

She chuckles at herself, shaking her head softly because this is so unlike her.

“What?” Chloe asks, a mixture of curiosity and confusion swirling in her eyes.

“Nothing, I just…” Beca shrugs. “This is not how I expected today to go, at all.”

Chloe’s head tilts to the side as she stares at Beca’s profile. “In a good way?”

“Yeah, I really think so.”

Chloe smiles in response, then emits a soft gasp, letting go of Beca’s hand. “Hold on, one sec.” She crosses the street before Beca can say anything, stepping up to this drag couple and asking them if she can do a mini photoshoot.

Beca watches on in amusement, grinning when Chloe walks back to her after thanking the pair. They fall back into step, and Beca resists the urge to slide her hand into Chloe’s once more.

She lets out a sigh of relief as soon as they step inside the cool building.

“Better?” Chloe asks.

“Yeah,” Beca breathes, nodding.

They hike up the staircase, Chloe coming to a stop to snap a picture of the Love & Resistance neon sign above the door leading to the exhibit. As they stroll about from one picture to another, Beca finds herself glancing at Chloe often, finding Chloe’s clear love for photography endearing.

“That was really cool,” Chloe says when they step back under the scorching sun after spending about an hour inside. They stopped at the gift shop, where Chloe purchased a few prints of the photographs exhibited. “Did you like it?”

“I did, yeah,” Beca nods, smiling softly. “Those people were really fucking brave. It’s inspiring.”

“I think so, too.” She licks her lips, glancing at Beca. “What are you doing now?”

“Not sure yet,” Beca says; one thing she’s sure of is that she doesn’t want to part ways with Chloe just yet. “Why? Wanna whisk me away again?”

Chloe’s soft laughter sends Beca’s heart for a spin. “Maybe.” A soft hand emcompasses hers once more. “Do you trust me?”

Beca cocks an eyebrow, a smirk ticking the corners of her lips. “Kind of a bold question seeing as we’ve known each other for an hour. You could be a serial killer for all I know.”

A giggle flits past Chloe’s lips, and she tugs on Beca’s hand. “Come on.”

“I’m low key concerned you didn’t try and correct me on the whole serial killer thing,” Beca teases, catching up so she falls into step with Chloe. “Or maybe you’re just a stalker? Would explain the fancy camera.”

“Stop,” Chloe requests with a chuckle, shoving Beca with her shoulder.

“I’m kidding,” Beca assures her, lacing their fingers before she can think twice about it. “So where are you taking me?”

“There’s a street fair a couple blocks away with crafts, food and drinks. Should be less crowded but still festive.”

“Sounds cool.”

They get there about twenty minutes later, Chloe stopping a few times along the way to snap a few street shots. The fair has a family-friendly block-party kind of vibe, with various vendors displaying their arts and crafts. Live music is drifting through the street, and Beca instantly feels more comfortable than she did during the parade.

Her heart swells at the sight of a family just ahead of them; two women and their two young kids with rainbows painted on their cheeks. Beca is filled with hope that someday she’ll get to have that, too, that being gay won’t prevent her from building a family and finding happiness, like her dad said it would when she came out to him a couple years ago.

“Where’d you go?” Chloe’s soft voice once again cuts through Beca’s thoughts.

“Nowhere,” she murmurs, glancing towards her new friend. “I just really like it here.”

After strolling about the different booths, they grab a bite to eat and settle down at a picnic table near the makeshift stage where the live band is playing.

“Do you know if there’s a face painting booth somewhere?” Beca finds herself asking once she’s finished her fries. “I wanna get flags on my cheeks, too.”

Stacie offered before they left the apartment, but Beca turned her down, preferring to keep it low-key. Chloe’s rocking it though, and Beca is definitely more ready to embrace her identity than she was a few hours ago.

“Oh, I can do it!” Chloe reaches inside her bag, producing a small paint palette and a brush.

Beca chuckles, shaking her head in amazement. “Of course you’d carry that around.”

As Chloe settles down next to her, straddling the bench, Beca mirrors her position and gathers her hair up and out of the way, piling it up on her head in a messy bun. She inhales sharply as Chloe takes her chin gently and leans closer to apply the first stroke.

The cool brush sliding over her heated skin makes her shiver, and the sudden proximity has her heart thud harder, and she feels a bit overwhelmed by the sudden urge to tilt her head up and forward just slightly to brush a kiss across Chloe’s mouth.

She doesn’t though, because she’s never kissed a girl before and that urge is soon suffocated by the nerves that sprout in the pit of her belly, shackling those butterflies back towards the ground.

“There,” Chloe murmurs, backing away to check her work. Beca realizes she hasn’t been breathing properly and sucks some air into her lungs, blinking. “Cute.”

“Thanks,” Beca croaks out, clearing her throat. She takes her phone to see it for herself in the reflection of the screen, and a bright smile spreads across her features.

“You’re rocking it.”

Soft blush coats Beca’s cheeks as she meets Chloe’s gaze, quickly averting her eyes because those striking blues are really messing with her ability to function properly.

“So I’m supposed to meet a couple friends of mine at this cool bar in an hour or so, I was thinking maybe you and your friends could tag along? No pressure, though.”

“Yeah, um, I’d like that. I’ll text my friends to see if they’re down.”

Cue to Beca being a bit more drunk than she initially planned in a gay bar in Soho a few hours later. The scorching heat probably (definitely) got to her head over the afternoon, so the two cocktails she had really feel like four.

She doesn’t mind, though. That pleasant buzzing thanks to the alcohol loosens her up a little and makes her second guess a lot less.

“So what’s up with you and Red?” Stacie asks over the music as they stand by their table. Chloe’s friends Jessica and Ashely are currently dancing, and Chloe’s gone up to the counter to get water.

Beca wonders if her attraction to Chloe is that see-through, or if it’s just Stacie being Stacie, and poking Beca has always been one of her favorite things. “What?”

The tall brunette rolls her eyes. “Come on, you guys have the hots for each other.”

Beca is thankful for the dim lighting as her face flushes hard. “You-- you think she’s into me?”

“Duh,” Amy confirms with a twin eyeroll.

Stacie slaps Amy’s arm. “Oh, here she comes. Let’s go dance, Ames.”

Beca’s eyes widen and her jaw drops when she realizes her friends are abandoning ship. “Guys! Seriously?? ”

The confirmation that Chloe’s attracted to her only makes Beca all nervous again, and she jumps slightly when Chloe shows up beside her.

“You alright?” Chloe asks, gently cupping Beca’s elbow.

“Yeah, yes. I’m grand.” Grand? Grand?? God, it’s like she can hear Stacie cackling in her head. Beca slams her eyes shut and wrinkles her nose as Chloe giggles. “Ugh. I mean good. I’m good.”

“Good,” Chloe echoes, her smile teasing. “So why are Stacie and Amy staring at us?”

Mortified, Beca glances in the direction of Chloe’s head tilt to find Stacie and Amy both innocently looking away as they stand across the room. She groans in annoyance. “I’m gonna kill them.”

Chloe laughs again, and Beca realizes her hand is still on her arm, her thumb stroking Beca’s skin back and forth. “It’s okay. I’m glad they’re looking out for you.”

“They’re not looking out for me,” Beca grumbles. “They’re just having the time of their lives because they know I’m a terrible flirt and I don’t know how to act around a beautiful woman.” She chuckles, her blush flaring up once more. “Oh wow, I can’t believe I just said that out loud.”

“Which part?” Chloe asks. “You being a terrible flirt or calling me beautiful?”

Beca wets her suddenly dry lips. “Me being bad at this,” she replies, sucking in a sharp breath. “I definitely meant the second part.”

Chloe licking her lips like she does in the next beat makes Beca’s knees wobble. “You wanna dance?”

Beca’s phone lights up with a text from Stacie before she can respond. We’re heading somewhere else. Coming or staying? ;)

She throws Chloe an apologetic smile as she grasps her phone. “Sorry, let me just reply.”

Beca

I’m gonna stay.

Stacie’s reply is instant. Happy scissoring.

She makes the mistake to glance towards the pair, catching Amy doing a V with her fingers by her mouth and flicking her tongue between them.

“Oh my god,” Beca mutters, setting her forehead on the table. “Any chance you didn’t catch that? My friends are an embarrassment.” She eventually straightens, shaking it off. “And yeah, I wanna dance.”

Chloe doesn’t beat around the bush, setting her hands on Beca’s hips and tugging Beca closer once they’re facing each other. Beca’s top doesn’t quite meet her high waisted skirt, and Chloe’s touch sends an electric jolt down her spine, its aftershocks echoing in the tips of her toes.

Her arms loop around Chloe’s neck and it’s only now they’re standing so close that Beca notices how blue Chloe’s eyes are. She also notes the want and passion burning in those irises, and feels another chill travel her body. Chloe moves flawlessly to the beat, and Beca matches her rhythm, gradually crushing the sliver of distance between them until her own hips are swaying flush against Chloe’s.

The song blends into another one, but Beca doesn’t really register it; she’s slowly being consumed by the desire to kiss Chloe, and this time doesn’t let her damn insecurities get the upper hand. Leaning in slowly, she captures Chloe’s lips in a kiss, a delighted hum mingling into it as Chloe kisses her back instantly. One of Chloe’s hands leaves her hip to hold her face gently, warm and reassuring over her skin.

The kiss is slow and tender, exploratory on Beca’s end, and probably the best Beca’s ever had. Her head soon spins from those wonderful, foreign sensations spreading through her body, and she finds herself needing a break shortly after. She pulls away just a bit, her lips tingling as Chloe’s breath skates across them.

When Chloe asks her if she wants to get out of there, Beca should probably tell her she’s new at this, that she’s never been with a girl before, but the words never surface from her throat. She does admit it half an hour later as they’re heavily making-out just outside Chloe’s place, but not to put a stop to it.

She wants this more than she’s probably ever wanted anything else, but she’s afraid of not knowing what to do.

Despite their palpable desire, they slow down once they eventually make it to Chloe’s bedroom, and Beca’s grateful for that. The next couple hours are a blur of yet unparalleled pleasure and Beca sleeps hard afterwards, waking up a bit confused the next morning.

She flushes when memories from the night before surface, explaining the wonderful aches her body’s experiencing when she stretches. She’s alone in bed and the apartment is silent, but a note lies on the pillow next to her.

Hey you. Had to run to work and didn’t want to wake you up. Help yourself to coffee and a shower, if you’d like. Yesterday was pretty awesome. I hope we can see each other again soon. Here’s my phone number: 917-695-8691. Have a good day. :)

Chloe xx

Beca fails to keep her smile at bay and she might even squeal a little bit as she flops back against her pillow.

She guesses she should thank Stacie for dragging her to Pride, after all.

#bechloe #bechloe fic

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berrynarrybanana · 3 years

Text

Mrs. Styles - Honeybee Extra

A/N: I would like to let you all know that I don’t know what happened here. I started writing at the beginning of my shift and I just didn’t stop and then bam, this happened? I have links to the outfit and other things mentioned in the fic below. I hope you enjoy the visual trip and the journey of this fic as it is a whirlwind ride. Please let me know if you enjoy this and please tell Harry to stop trying to kill me if you see him, kay? I love you all and I’m here if you need to talk!

Rental House | Outfit |

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Daddy kink, impreg!kink, roleplay

November 2020

The second the photos broke, I lost it.

Harry wearing a wedding ring on the set of his new film sent me reeling in a pit of lust and wanting unlike any other. I spent my entire afternoon clenching my thighs together and avoiding small talk with coworkers. I was meant to fly out on Friday afternoon to visit him for the weekend, but I was struggling to hold it together. The wedding band on his finger was taunting me from two thousand miles away and I was caving. Anna had no problem with me disappearing a little early, so long as I had my laptop with me and my articles submitted.

My flight was switched for Thursday morning instead of Friday evening as originally planned. I had to jump through some hoops to ensure no one actually saw me entering JFK or leaving LAX. Having pap photos taken of me would certainly ruin my surprise. I spent too much time hatching my plan for a group of sleazy men with camera’s to ruin it.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Harry rubbed at his eyes, his voice scratchy and his brain groggy due to the early hour. “You look like you’re going on a run.”

“I’m doing a bunch of errands for Anna today, so I decided to dress casual.” I shrugged, shifting around in my private lounge seat at the airport. “I’m waiting for a friend of hers to get off their flight before I take them into the office.”

“Thought you were hopping on your flight a little early to surprise me.” He pouted, his eyes shining under the dim lighting. “Made my heart race a little.”

“I wish I could, darling.” I said softly. “I miss you so much already and it’s barely been two weeks.”

“I know, it sucks.” He inhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Only one more sleep and then we’ll be together for the weekend.”

“I can’t wait, squid.” I said softly. “I’ll talk to you later today, okay? Don’t be upset if I can’t answer a text or anything, I’ll be so busy with Anna’s errands-”

“S’alright, honey.” He gave me a reassuring smile. “I’ll be on set so I might not be able to text as often either.”

“Alright.” I said. “I love you.”

“I love you.” He blew a kiss to the camera and I caught it, pressing my fingers to my cheek with a soft giggle. “Have a great day, honey.”

“You too, squid.”

After I hung up with Harry, I jumped into planning mode.

I already had the address to the rental house and a copy of the key. Harry had sent it to me the moment he got one himself just in case I ever wanted to come visit. We both knew that flight times and his filming schedule might not line up perfectly, so it didn’t hurt to have a key just in case I had to drive from LAX to Palm Springs on my own. I planned on stopping at the Malibu house to steal Roxanne from the garage. It would take me two hours and a half hours to get from Malibu to Palm Springs once I finally started my solo road trip.

As I switched over to a calming playlist that Harry made for me on my birthday, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths.

I knew that it would be a fun trip, but I could only hope that Harry really liked his surprise.

****************************

The sun was beating down on my bare legs as I leaned against Roxanne.

I anxiously twirled the set of keys around my perfectly painted fingernails. I picked one of the most infamous shades from the 1950’s to match my hair, makeup, and outfit. I rubbed my painted lips together nervously, taking a shuddery breath as I watched the gate of the production set carefully. I thought that it was going to open four times before, but no one had stumbled off set yet.

They were all set to do a two hour lunch break today and that gave me plenty of time to do what I wanted with Harry back in his rental home. I spent most of my time getting ready there, following several tutorials on vintage hair and makeup before I dressed in my adorable outfit. It was something I saw on a show about a female comedian in the fifties. I adored her style throughout the whole show, but I really loved this outfit on me.

It was a pair of black and white check shorts with a matching, three quarter sleeve blazer. I went through Harry’s closet, in search of his ivory silk shirt that I’d seen him wear in a pap photo years ago, to add a little special touch to the outfit. It had his last name stitched on the pocket to compliment the fake wedding ring I’d slipped on my finger.

That was the part I was nervous about.

I didn’t want him to think that I was insane for finding a piece of costume jewelry to match his own fake wedding ring. I got the idea on the flight over from New York, my mind racing with ideas and scenarios to play out. I ultimately decided that if he could torture me with a wedding ring, then I could torture him with one.

The gate finally opened as I started to contemplate picking my nails, a loud screeching sound pulling me from my thoughts as I gripped the keys to the benz in my hand tightly.

Florence was the first out, and while I was delighted to meet the girl who was spending so much time with my boyfriend, I didn’t care to meet her just yet. I watched her turn back, letting out a charming giggle as my boyfriend followed suite behind her. Olivia Wilde was next, a bag on her shoulder and a wide smile on her face. A few other familiar faces trailed out after Harry, and suddenly, my nerves had skyrocketed. A lot of famous people were about to see me in a classic fifties get up with a car scarf around my curls and my legs exposed.

My nerves were soothed for just a moment as I looked at Harry’s freshly cut hair, slicked back in a style that I thought I would hate on him. As per usual, he looked like a daydream. My breath caught in my throat when he looked over at me, his eyes growing wide and a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. Florence caught on to his line of sight, following his gaze until her eyes landed on me. I gave him a quick wave as everyone else turned to look at me and I felt my face grow hot. He pressed a quick kiss to Olivia’s cheek and then Florence’s before jogging my way.

“What the hell is all this?” He gripped my elbow gently, leaning down to press his lips to mine with a wide smile. “Beatrice, you look so good.”

“I know.” I hummed against his lips, brushing my fingers over his cheek. “Hi.”

“Hiya, honey.” He cooed, wrapping his arms around me. “Fuck me, you’re gorgeous.”

“I thought I’d do a little something to surprise you.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, tossing my head back when he pulled the scarf from my head. “Harry!”

“You did your hair and makeup, too?” He kissed my cheek. “Come on, I want you to meet Olivia and Florence. They’re going to love this.”

“I don’t want her to think I’m mocking her movie.” I glanced down at Harry, causing him to frown slightly. “I did it because I knew you would love it and I had a lot of fun dressing up, but I don’t want to offend her.”

“You won’t.” He reassured me. “She’ll probably make you an extra.”

“Shut up.” I rolled my eyes as he pouted. “Fine, I’ll go over there.”

“Thank you.” He set me down, grabbing my hand before tugging me along.

“Olivia, Florence,” Harry glanced back at me with a giddy grin. “This is my girlfriend, Beatrice.”

“Hello,” I stuck my hand out between us and they both went for a shake. “It’s really nice to meet y’all.”

“You too.” Florence beamed back at me with a smile that was almost as bright as the sun. “I just want to thank you for letting me borrow your boyfriend. He’s such a lovely person and a dream to work with.”

“Try baking with him, you’ll change your mind.” I squeezed Harry’s hand, letting out a soft chuckle. “He’s like a toddler when he gets in the kitchen.”

“I can’t imagine him in an apron.” Olivia laughed. “We have to see that.”

“I have pictures, I’ll make sure to give him a framed one for his trailer.” I pressed my lips together as Harry squeaked out.

“Alright, I didn’t think you’d all gang up on me.” He said playfully. “I wanted to show you off and here you are, teasing me for baking.”

“I’m teasing you because you steal the batter on a spoon, not because you’re baking. I love baking with you.” I bumped my hip into his, smiling up at him. “But I’ve got to keep you grounded, don’t I? Your head will inflate and I’ll have to tie a cinder block to your foot to keep you from floating off.”

“Haha, you’re so funny.” He scrunched his nose up and I tossed my head back, letting out a loud laugh. “Anyways, what do you think of her outfit?”

“Oh, Harry, don’t-”

“It looks great, actually.” Olivia said. “Did I see that on the set of the Marvelous Mrs. Masiel?”

“Yeah, you did.” I nodded. “I love that show and all of her outfits so much.”

“It looks adorable on you.” Florence said. “You work for Vogue, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I did a piece with one of your Little Women co-stars not too long ago, actually.”

“I thought you seemed familiar.” She exclaimed. “You came on set one day, didn’t you?”

“I did.” I nodded. “It was an honest to god, out of body experience for me. I loved Little Women so much as a girl. I seriously wanted to change my name to Josephine after reading it.”

“And then the film was so bloody amazing!” Florence exclaimed. “Harry, why have you kept her away from us for so long?”

“S’not my fault she has a job.” He rolled his eyes, chortling playfully. “I tried to convince her that being a housewife was much more fun, but I think she read the script and decided against it.”

“Yeah, I sure did.” I laughed softly alongside Olivia and Florence. “We should do dinner or something this weekend. I don’t know if you all have plans, but Harry’s rental house has a table that seats like, eight people.”

“That sounds wonderful.” Olivia said. “Just let us know the details and I’ll pass it along to the other main actors.”

“Sounds great.” Harry said. “Well, I’m going to steal my girl away if you don’t mind. I’ll see you in two hours?”

“See you then, Harry.” Florence waved before she took off in the direction of her car. “Bye, Beatrice!”

“Bye, Florence.” I waved back at her with a giggle before turning to Olivia. “It was really lovely to meet you. I’ll make sure to get him back in time.”

“Thank you.” She laughed. “Have a great lunch, you two.”

“Thanks.” Harry and I said at the same time.

When Olivia was gone, Harry looked down at me with a smirk.

“Do I get to fuck you now?” He asked, his dimple popping out.

“It depends.” I said slowly. “Would you, by chance, like to partake in a little role play?”

“It depends.” He said back. “What do you have in mind?”

I walked forward, smoothing my hands over his t-shirt covered chest. I pressed up on my toes, bringing my lips as close to his ears as I could get them.

“Do you still have your wedding ring from set?”

********************************************

“Honey!” I heard Harry’s voice from where I was lounging on the sofa, a magazine draped over my thighs. “I’m home.”

I smiled, flipping through my magazine without actually paying attention to it.

I heard Harry’s footsteps moments later, his dress shoes tapping along the concrete floor of the house. I tilted my head up when he moved in front of me, his eyes trailing over my body.

“You look comfortable.” He said, reaching for my magazine with two fingers. “You didn’t answer when I called out for you.”

“Sorry, darling,” I hummed out when he pressed his lips to mine. “I was invested in an article.”

“You and your articles.” He breathed against my lips. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen you. Are you just going to sit there?”

“I was planning on it, sweet pea.” I brushed my thumb over his bottom lip. “I’m relaxing my feet.”

“Now, I’ve been gone on business for six days, honey. I would like the chance to properly greet my beautiful wife.” He smirked, setting his briefcase to the coffee table behind him.

“Mr. Styles,” I twisted my legs off the couch, standing up between the furniture and Harry. “I don’t know what you’re insinuating, but I’ve got far too much to get done today. I’ve still got grocery shopping to do and well, I have to call your Mother.”

“I have a better plan, doll.” He roughly gripped my hips, his fingers digging into my sides harshly as he yanked me against his chest. “How about we sneak off for a little afternoon delight?”

“Harry Styles, I don’t think so.” I mocked offense, swatting his shoulder. “I’m far too busy.”

“Make time for your husband, honey.” He cooed, brushing his knuckles against my cheek gently before he gripped my chin. “Make love with your husband.”

“Mr. Styles, you do drive a hard bargain.” I whispered, my breath catching in my throat as our eyes connected in a lustful gaze. “I do have something I’ve been wanting to show you.”

“Mrs. Styles, what have you been up to while daddy’s been away?” He hummed out as his lips brushed against my red painted lips. “Have you been naughty?”

“No,” I smirked. “I’ve been an angel.”

“Prove it.” He whispered moments before our lips collided.

He kissed me just like they did in the old movies, his body wrapping around mine. I moaned against him when I felt his tongue slip over my own, giving me a taste of what I had been craving for two weeks now. I let out a giggle and then a squeak of surprise when I felt his hands under my bum, lifting me up into his arms. I wrapped my legs around him, holding on tight as he walked us from the living room towards the bedroom. He dropped me on the bed before grabbing my right ankle, holding my leg up as my ankle rested on his shoulder.

“These heels…” He started to fiddle with the clasp, finally pulling the strap loose before he slipped it off. “They’re new.”

“Just bought them.” I gripped the duvet under my fingers. “Do you like them?”

“Yes.” He kissed my ankle before gently resting my right leg on the bed. “Did you buy them with daddy’s money?”

“I did.” I bit my lower lip as my core clenched, my walls fluttering at his tone. “I bought them for you.”

“You didn’t even ask daddy before you bought them.” He tutted, reaching for my left ankle. “You’re getting bold.”

“I just wanted to surprise you.” I said.

“I’m very surprised.” He gave me a soft wink, one that let me know my Harry was still in this version of him that we’d quickly created in the car.

A business man with a daddy kink in the 1950’s that wanted to knock his wife up after a long business trip. It was a simple plot, but it combined quite a few kinks into one scenario, so we didn’t really mind. I giggled when he reminded me that daddy was a common nickname in that time period, something girls called their husbands in a provocative setting.

When both of my heels were off, Harry brushed his hands up my bare thighs until they landed on my hips. He gently guided me towards the center of the bed before kneeling over me. I lifted both hands up, cupping his cheeks as he leaned down to kiss my lips.

“Mrs. Styles,” He hummed out. “I’ve been thinking?”

“About what, Mr. Styles?” I pressed my lips over his cheek, sliding my fingers towards the back of his neck.

“I think it’s been quite lonely around here.” He said. “I can’t imagine you’re enjoying all of this time alone when I’m away on business.”

“I get by just fine.” I said softly, dropping my head back to the mattress. “Do you want to get a dog, Harry? Is that what this is about?”

“I don’t want to get a dog, darling.” He chuckled, brushing his nose over mine. “I want a baby.”

“A baby?” My eyes grew wide. “Isn’t it a bit soon, darling? We’ve only been married for five months.”

“That’s more than enough time, doll.” He whined. “I want us to have a beautiful little baby to love and to dote on. I want to show her off in front of my friends and my family-”

“Oh, Mr. Styles.” I sighed, shaking my head. “Don’t you know I’d do anything for you, darling.”

“Is that a yes?” He smirked, his eyes lighting up.

“Yes.” I gasped out when he rutted his hips forward. “Please.”

He wasted no time, stripping me from my blazer and then my tiny shorts. He tossed them aside carelessly, his hands falling to the buttons on the silk shirt that I had stolen from our closet.

“S’this mine?” He glanced up at me with a confused smirk. “Haven’t seen this in ages.”

“S’yours.” I nodded, holding the lapel to the side to show off his name. “S’got your name on it and everything.”

“Cheeky girl.” He cooed out, dropping his head to press a kiss to my stomach. “It’s our name.”

I let out a low whine in the back of my throat, shifting my hips as Harry made it to the last button towards the top of the dress shirt. I watched his face carefully as he pushed it to the side, his eyes scanning the black, vintage set that I had purchased for today.

“You’re trying to kill me.” He gasped out as his fingers brushed over the skin of my stomach to my breasts. “Fucking….I can’t take this anymore. I need to be inside of you.”

“Then get inside of me, Mr. Styles.” I lifted my legs, spreading them apart slightly so he could see the cut out area on the crotch of the panties. “You don’t even have to take everything off.”

Harry’s eyes were on mine, burning a dark shade of emerald as he licked over his bottom lip. I giggled when he started to unbuckle his trousers, tanking the zipper down before he tucked his hand in. He pulled his cock out, giving it a few firm strokes before he hovered his body over mine. Seconds later, I felt the stretch of my walls around his cock, causing my body to tense.

“There’s my girl.” He grunted out, pushing himself in as far as he could possibly go before pressing a few, sloppy kisses to my face. “So snug around me, aren’t you?”

“Harry.” I dropped my hands to his back, digging my nails into the cotton of his shirt as he pulled out slowly. Seconds later, he was pushing back in and I was gasping for air. “Fuck, that’s nice.”

“Mrs. Styles, you have such a filthy mouth.” He smeared his lips over mine before both of his hands found their home by my ears. “Who taught you to talk like that?”

“You.” I let out a breathless chuckle that quickly faded as the tip of his cock massaged my g-spot.

“Yeah?” His eyelids fluttered shut as he continued to work his hips in a steady rhythm. “No other blokes have been hangin’ round here?”

“None.” I shook my head as my nails drug down to his lower back and eventually to his bum. I pushed my fingers down his pants, digging my nails into the flesh there. “Just you.”

“You’re my girl.” He gritted out as a single curl fell to his forehead. “Only mine.”

“Only yours.” I whimpered, biting at my lower lip. “You feel so good, Harry.”

“Can’t wait to see you pregnant, honey.” He let out a whine of his own, clenching his eyes. “It’s gonna be so beautiful, seeing you round and full while you carry my baby..”

“I want it so bad, Harry.”

“And after this baby,” He let out a strangled moan, delivering another sharp thrust that had me gasping. “I’m gonna put another one in you, and then another.”

“Please, I want it.” I nodded, sliding my fingers back up his back. “Want you closer.”

He pressed his body into mine, his hips moving in desperate thrusts and his pelvis applying pressure to my clit with each move. I tossed my head back, silently asking for his lips to press against my throat. I felt him latch on as his thrust started to get sloppier. I knew that he was close by the little whines pulling from his throat and the puffs of air hitting my skin.

Harry’s hand slipped between our bodies in no time, rubbing my clit with an urgency that I’d never experienced before with him. I felt my body flush warm and my walls tighten around him as he delivered three final thrusts. We both cried out when he spilled into me, filling my walls with his cum until it dripped out onto the black panties still settled onto my hips.

“You bought yourself a ring?” our chests were both heaving, his body still pressed into mine.

I tried to let out a giggle, but he was heavy against my body and it came out wheezy.

“It’s costume jewelry.” I brushed my hand over his back. “Just thought it would be fun after I saw you wearing that ring on set. I saw the pictures online and they nearly killed me.”

“Mhm, you’re just trying to seduce me into proposing earlier than I planned.” He lifted his head, pressing his lips against mine in a sweet kiss. “Hello, honey.”

“Hiya, darling.” I lifted my hand, tugging gently on the curl that fell over forehead with a fond smile. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.” He whispered. “I love you and everything you do for me. I don’t tell you enough how much I appreciate you for being the best girlfriend out there.”

“Harry-”

“Don’t deflect or play it down,” He said sternly. “I mean every word from the bottom of my heart, Beatrice. I...no one else on set has had a spouse or partner come visit them on the weekends. No one else had flowers sent to their trailer or daily facetime calls and inspirational messages. You make me feel so loved and so special on a daily basis and that means the world to me. So thank you for being you, honey. I love you with all of my heart.”

“I love you, too.” I sniffled, blinking rapidly as a few tears fell down my temples, into my hair. “I hope you liked your surprise. I didn’t want to freak you out, but I thought it would be fun.”

“It was.” He brushed his nose over mine. “It was a lot of fun, actually. I think we should mess around like that more often.”

“Not too often, though.” I chuckled. “One of these days, I’ll actually end up pregnant.”

“Wheat’s wrong with that?” He hummed out.

“One step at a time, darling.” I patted his shoulder. “Oh, just so you know, we won’t be having a girl first.”

“Excuse me?” Harry hissed when I pushed at his shoulders, causing him to slip out of my walls. I guided him to his back before I climbed on top of him, pressing my palms to his tummy. “I don’t...what?”

“You said ‘her’ earlier, but we’re having a boy first.” I said casually. “I know it.”

“How do you know it?” He chuckled as his brows creased. “Did you make a deal with Stevie at one of her witch things?”

“I didn’t need to make a deal, I just know it.” I patted his cheek. “Gonna name him Ellis.”

“Why Ellis?” He tilted his head to the side. “Where did you hear that?”

“Ellis Island.” I smiled. “We took our first vacation together in New York and the ferry to Ellis Island was one of my favorite parts of that trip. It’s a piece of our history.”

“I love that.” He said softly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” I giggled, leaning forward to press my lips against his. “Round two?”

“Why, Mrs. Styles, I like the way you think.”

#harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles X ofc #honeybee #extra

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dameronology · 4 years

Text

the one with the intergalactic babysitter (mando x reader)

summary: you’re a little lost in life - you moved to coruscant to become a writer, but working two jobs to make ends meet has made you dismayed. one babysitting gig with a mandalorian and his weird green kid might change everything.

this is my first mando piece!! it might be the first part of a series or it might be a stand alone - if you want to see more, i’m definitely down to see what else my brain spews up

enjoy,

- val xx

Coruscant was a very fucking expensive place to live.

It was understandable, seeing as it was the political and cultural hub of the galaxy - the kind of place that Frank Sinatra might write songs about titled Coruscant, Coruscant - but maker, it felt like they were charging you simply to exist in the city. Perhaps if you’d had a career, or a solid job that didn’t require chasing around after rude patrons and yelling at middle-aged women for severely under tipping. Being a waitress simply wasn’t enough to make ends meet. You’d originally moved to the capital to make it as a writer - a statement you would come to learn would age like milk on a hot July day.

So, you turned to babysitting too; you already spent your day dealing with sticky-handed children and tuning out their incessant screaming. The extra credits wouldn’t hurt and it was something to do that didn’t involve sitting within the four walls of your tiny, concrete apartment.

The first few weeks were a bit sow, usually tending to the spoilt of children of rich, inner city politicians. They were easy jobs; the kids were easily entertained by a holomovie and their parents usually left enough money to order take away food for them. You simply had to sit and watch them; making sure they didn’t choke and that they were in bed on time. Simple.

One slow Monday - the kind were the hours dragged and there was a sort of grey cloud of gloom hanging over the skyscrapers - you got a call. Initially, it was supposed to be your night off to work on your debut novel. The first thing on your to-do list was to come up with an idea for said novel but as it usually went with writers, you found it easier to find excuses than to get on with the thing you claimed was your livelihood.

‘Hello?’ You were halfway through the door of your apartment, your commslink in one hand as you tossed your apron onto the kitchen counter.

‘Is this...Y/N?’

‘Maybe.’ You thinned your eyes. ‘Who’s asking?’

‘A potential client.’ It sounded as though the caller was covering their mouth. ‘Are your services exclusive to human children?’

‘Not at all. I had a Twi’lek kid last week.’ You replied. ‘What kinda kid are we talking?’

‘I’m not entirely sure.’

‘You don’t know what species your own kid is?’

‘He’s adopted?’ The voice came back, a little unsure. ‘Look, it’s a long story but I’ve had an emergency at work and I need someone to keep an eye on him for a few hours. I’ll pay double.’

That was how you ended up rushing out again, plans for the night completely disregarded in lieu of money . Admittedly, you were a little unsure because a) the address he had given you was in an air hangar and b) you were half-expecting to turn up and find that the child was a demon. But the guy was paying double and you needed to make rent - and you were like eighty percent sure he probably wasn’t going to kill you.

When you got to Air Hangar 64 - a jet parking spot right in the middle of downtown Coruscant - you almost turned around, thinking you’d got the wrong address. A man in Mandalorian armour (one hell of a man, it should be added) was standing outside of a jet, a bundle of robes in his arms. He was tapping his foot on the ground, the bright lights of the city around you illuminating against the beskar of his suit.

‘Y/N?’ You hadn’t even noticed that he’d spotted you, given the whole face apparatus situation. The voice, however, matched the one from the phone.

‘Right. Hi.’ You cautiously approached him. ‘I didn’t catch your name on the phone.’

‘Mando.’ He replied.

‘Mando the Mandalorian?’ You quirked a brow at him. ‘Or is it short for Mandalorian?’

‘Up to you.’ His words were blunt.

It was then that you noticed the bundle in his arms was actually moving, a tiny and clawed green hand reaching up. It wriggled slightly and you tried - you really tried - to hide the look of horror on your face.

‘That's the thing I’m babysitting?’

‘He’s the thing you're babysitting.’ Mando replied. ‘His face is much better than his hands.’

He handed you the bundle - and you noted that the shiny guy had been right. The little face staring back at you, with its wide eyes, brown eyes and hilariously oversized ears, was certainly much cuter than a human baby. He wrapped his tiny hand around your finger, letting out a tiny giggle.

‘Is that why you wear the helmet?’ You asked. ‘Cos you’re green and wrinkly too?’

You couldn’t see the Mandalorian’s face, but you could tell from the way that he tilted his head to the side that he wasn’t amused by your statement. Tough crowd.

‘I’ll only be gone a few hours.’ He said. ‘I appreciate you doing this.’

‘And I appreciate you paying double.’ You shot back.

‘There’s food for him on the ship - some freeze dried frogs and some bantha milk.’

‘I’m sorry, did you just say freeze dried frogs and-’

‘- I’d appreciate it if you stayed out the hull of the ship.’ Mando continued, ignoring your question. ‘Just stick to the cockpit.’

‘Right.’ You forced a smile, inwardly reminding yourself of the double payment. ‘And do you have a rough ETA?’

‘Sometime between now and tomorrow morning.’

‘No need to be precise, I suppose.’ You muttered under your breath. ‘Well, have fun doing whatever is that you do...Mando.’

He didn’t mean to come across as icy and rude. It was just that he rarely ever interacted with anybody else - the Child was hardly chatty and he usually knocked his cargo out before they could get a word in. Still, the Mandalorian smiled slightly to himself at the use of his name. He wouldn’t usually trust a single soul in the galaxy to be alone with his kid on his ship, but he didn’t have much choice. You didn’t seem like the sort of person who would steal it - in fact, he got the impression you probably couldn’t fly it at all.

Just like that, you were alone with the weird, Kermit-looking child. The first hour was slow; painfully so, in fact. All you could do was sit in the pilot’s chair, spinning around aimlessly in circles as the kid napped. The pile of dead, freeze-dried frogs stacked atop the dashboard was a little unnerving, but not any less unnerving than the six-foot-tall, armour-clad man to whom they belonged.

By the third hour, you were beginning to wish the kid was still asleep. You quickly learnt that he enjoyed waddling about and pressing random buttons; he was particularly drawn to the bright red one next to your seat. You were no expert, but you’d seen enough holocartoons growing up to know what an ejector seat was.

‘Oh no, let’s leave the blaster alone.’ You jumped out your chair, quickly picking up the Child. You held him up in the air, eyes meeting for a moment - then he burst into tears. ‘Hey, it’s okay! It’s better to play with safe things, like this mildly disturbing freeze dried-’

- The kid ripped his food from your hand before you could finish the sentence, shoving the creature into his slobbery mouth with an ostentatiousness that was impressive and disturbing in equal measures.

Watching him guzzle down the bantha milk was a similar experience; half of it ended up down his robes, the other half splattering to the floor. It could have been worse. He could have spilled it all over the controls or down the seat. Heck, he could have poured it over your head.

By the time the Mandalorian came back, both you and the Child were passed out. So much so, in fact, that you didn’t hear him enter the ship. You were snoring quietly in the pilot’s seat, leg stretched out to the other chair. The little green rat was snoozing on your chest, one of your hands resting over his back. There was blue milk all down your shirt and a frog’s leg stuck to the windscreen.

He gently leant forward to pick his kid up, placing him back in his floating crib. You began to stir when you felt the warmth move from your chest, your brain mentally registering the sudden absence of the creature.

‘Hey, Mando the Mandalorian.’ You sat up, rubbing your eyes. As you did, the frog that had been plastered to the windscreen fell, bouncing off of his helmet. Your hand flew to your mouth, trying to stifle the laugh that was about to come out. ‘I am so sorry about the mess-’

‘- don’t be.’ He cut you off, sticking out his gloved hand to help you up. ‘He’s a messy kid.’

You weren’t sure how you could tell, but something about him seemed much more docile than your previous, brief encounter. His tone was a little warmer - or was it more tired? It was hard to tell with the helmet.

Your best guess was that whatever work-related task he’d run out to had really taken it out of him. His shoulders were a little slumped, words tinged with exasperation. Coming home to find his ship covered in frogs and blue milk was probably only salt in the wound.

‘I’ll clean it up.’ You offered.

‘No, it’s fine.’ Mando shook his head, releasing his grip on your hand.

‘You’re tired.’ You said. ‘I mean...I think you’re tired. It’s hard to tell with that metal thing covering your face but I’m getting some exhausted dad vibes from you and I did make the mess after all.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Certain.’ You rubbed your eyes. ‘We spent most of the time you were out napping so I’m well-rested anyways.’

After pointing you in the direction of a tiny closet towards the back of the cock-pit, you gathered what appeared to be an ages-old mop and a bottle of unidentified cleaning liquid. Cleaning up spilled and splattered food was simply part of your day job and it didn’t take you long to reassemble the place. You mopped the floor, prying the occasional frog leg or arm from the ship’s windscreen and controls.

Mando watched as you did, eyes following you as you darted around. You couldn’t see him staring at you but you could certainly feel it. Glancing up from the floor, you paused your cleaning to hold his gaze, letting the mop fall against the wall.

‘So, what do you do?’ You asked.

Helmet tilt.

‘I mean, for like a job.’ You continued. ‘You live on a ship and you have a weird kid - he’s lovely, don’t get me wrong - but he’s fucking weird. Doesn’t he have a mum or something? Or another dad?’

‘I’m a bounty hunter.’ Mando replied. ‘And no.’

Did you always talk this much? Or was it just his wordless responses that made it feel like you were having a conversation with yourself? You could have sworn that most conversations didn’t take this much effort.

‘Bounty hunter, huh?’ You raised your eyebrow. ‘I don’t suppose that finding an individual in these Coruscanti crowds is very easy - sorry. I also don’t suppose that you want my running commentary-’

‘- no, I like it.’ His words took you by surprise. ‘I don’t come across many chatty people.’

There was something about you that he liked - you were bright, sparky. The complete opposite of every antisocial criminal and cantina-dweller that he’d ever come across. He was tired beyond words but your voice was soothing.

‘Yeah, the kid isn’t much of a conversationalist.’ You replied. ‘Where did you find him?’

‘He had a bounty on his head.’ Mando replied. ‘The people that wanted him were bad.’

‘So you ran away with him?’ You dropped the mop, taking a seat in the chair beside him. ‘And just called him your own?’

‘Not at first, but there are a lot of people after him.’

‘Oh yeah. I’m sure that tiny green thing is the galaxy’s most wanted criminal.’ You scoffed.

‘What do you do?’ His helmet tilted again, this time out of curiosity. He got the vibe that you probably weren’t a full-time babysitter. You’d looked after his kid well enough but you didn’t seem like the sort of person who would voluntarily spend all their time with children. You swore too much for that.

‘I’m trying to be a writer.’ You explained.

That made sense, Mando thought, you certainly had plenty to say.

‘Trying?’

‘Let’s just say that there isn’t a whole lot of writing happening.’ You replied. ‘You know, life gets in the way. I babysit and waitress to make ends meet but that leaves little time for getting shit done. I’m hopeful, though.’

Mando was almost bewildered by you at that point: you were the opposite of him in every way. You spoke about anything & everything, you’d anchored yourself to this city and you were trying to achieve a dream - an uncertain dream. He was the one that travelled the galaxy but somehow, you seemed to be more free. You had the sort of energy and optimism that felt like a stranger to him. Your presence alone against the cold, metal walls of his ship felt like a warm hug.

‘Is it lack of inspiration?’ He asked.

‘Maybe.’ You replied. ‘I thought Coruscant would help with that but it’s actually pretty fucking sad here. I can’t travel though, not when I’m working two jobs just so I can afford to live, let alone go on kriffing vacation.’

‘Right.’ He nodded. ‘I’m heading out tomorrow morning.’

You furrowed your brow. ‘Yeah. Where to?’

‘I have no idea.’ He replied. ‘But I need someone to watch the kid and you need to travel.’

‘Sure.’ You snorted. ‘I’ll just...I’ll just up and leave my whole life here behind to drop everything and travel the galaxy with a random man and his weird frog baby whilst I search for inspiration and - oh.’

‘What?’

‘That sounds like one hell of a story.’

#mandalorian x reader #mandalorian imagines #mando x reader #mando imagine #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars fanfic

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adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy · 4 years

Note

PORNSTAR!HARRY WITH THE NEW BEARD (me? wet)

“What d’you think, then?”

Harry scratches absentmindedly at the thick stubble covering the lower half of his face, the coarse, light brown hairs heavily dusting his upper lip and haloing around his mouth and chin.

His eyebrows perk up at Y/N expectantly, awaiting her response as he sits across from her in the break room, laid out on the sofa with his head mounted against the elbowrest. His arms tighten around the maroon velvet cushion he’s hugging to his chest, a certain anxiousness jittering in his veins. He doesn’t know why her opinion matters to him or why the suspense is tearing his stomach to shreds, but it does and he can’t stop it and it’s fucking annoying, to say the least.

In his line of work, Harry had learned not to make severe emotional attachments to his partners. A platonic relationship is fine— he tended to naturally attract people without much effort and he thrives in social settings; friendships were bound to form— and a casual “friends with benefits” type of arrangement isn’t off the table, either. However, the industry had hardened him into being the kind of person who doesn’t care what others think of him. He never put much thought into people’s mundane concerns towards him (like whether his new beard was attractive or not) unless he had started to develop deeper connections, which then leads to him harvesting feelings, which in turn causes him to act like a complete lovesick moron and usually topples him into an actual solid dating situation. And if there’s anything Harry has painstakingly learned through multiple trials and errors is that being an adult entertainer while simultaneously engaging in a serious relationship never mixes well.

Yet here he is, waiting for their assigned filming room to be ready so they can go in and shoot a scene for a new video. Here he is, playing with a loose seam thread on the couch pillow, tugging at it nervously to give himself something to focus on other than the silence suffocating the room— a silence he himself had instilled by asking such a random, pointed question. Here he is, with sparks firing off in the pit of his tummy as the leg hanging off the side of the sofa bounces restlessly on his heel, toes curling in his pastel yellow Vans. He hasn’t felt this like this in so long he thinks he might vomit right onto the coffee table.

Y/N is extended across the loveseat opposite his, her legs draped over the armrest, knees bent and feet swaying back and forth distractedly. Her hands are cradled against her stomach, fingers sifted together as she taps at her knuckles, head snuggled into a throw pillow identical to his.

She had snapped her head to the side at his sudden question, surprised by the low thrum of his voice reaching across the still air since she thought he had fallen into a nap.

She’d run into him earlier as he had hurried inside the building, Nike gym bag slung over his shoulder and thudding against his hip as he made a beeline for his dressing room, itching for a shower. She figured that after exerting himself with a heavy workout and washing away the tension in his muscles with warm water, he’d probably want to get some sleep in before their shoot in order he to be at the top of his game. But evidently, Harry is wide awake, staring at her over the glass table between their makeshift beds, eyebrows raised in curiosity at her thoughts on the facial hair he’s sporting.

Y/N stares at him thoughtfully for a few seconds, eyes narrowing slightly as she takes in this never before seen appearance.

She’d been working for this company for just over two months now and she had never seen Harry with more than just a light bit of stubble. One can imagine her shock when he had waltzed in with a decently thick bushel covering half his face. She almost didn’t recognize him, being so used to his clean, boyish face rather than a hairy, full-fledged man. She hadn’t quite processed the change since their fleeting interaction prior to his bath, but apparently her take on it interested him and for some unknown reason, that notion makes her cheeks sizzle.

The response she blurts out makes her wish she could implode on command.

“You kinda look like Paul Bunyan.”

Harry blinks at her blankly exactly three times, shifting upwards higher against the armrest and cocking his head to the side in awed confusion. “Pardon?”

Y/N parts her lips to speak but her brain can’t seem to find a way to justify the idiotic, nerve-induced comment she’d just made. After a moment of charged silence, she splutters out a semi-acceptable explanation.

“Y’know, Paul Bunyan. The lumberjack guy? With the blue ox?”

Harry continues to stare at her, emerald irises twinkling with a mystified haze and eyebrows scrunched down in bewilderment.

She swallows quickly, feeling heat crawl up the sides of her neck. “He’s this folklore legend that they use to tell us about back in grade school. Disney even made a cute little short film about him.”

He blinks at her again, not sure how to react to her response since he has no fucking clue what she’s going on about. All he knows is that he wants to calm the ragging in his belly and possibly ebb some type of compliment out of her to tide over the craving for her approval.

He takes a wild stab and hopes for the best.

“So he’s a lumberjack, yeah? That must mean he was ripped. Was he hot?”

Y/N bursts into a round of easy laughter, feeling all the tension wash out of her in a huge wave of relief. Leave it to Harry to be a total dolt at the perfect time.

“Yeah, he was, actually. I used to have a crush on him, despite the fact that he was a literal cartoon.”

Harry’s lips break into a cheeky, satisfied grin, his dimples pinching into place. He sits forward, dropping the couch cushion into his lap and leaning back onto the palms of his hands, head lulling on his shoulder as one of his knees bends upwards to rest his heel at the edge of the sofa. He gives his brows a cocky shrug, well aware of how her gaze momentarily flickers to ogle at his widely parted thighs. He’d made the right call to wear his Adidas joggers, the thin polyester material obviously strained by what resides between his legs.

“Guess that means you have a crush on me now, too. By association.”

Y/N’s glazed eyes dart back up to his face and she tries to cover up her little escapade by snorting humorously, shaking her head lightly in amusement. “He was a bit taller than you, though. Makes him sexier.”

His voice comes out slathered with fake pained insult. “That’s no fair, I can’t even control that! How tall was he? Bet I could take him.”

She bites into her lower lip, a small playful grin peeking around her teeth at the ensuing banter. “Well, according to the myth, he’s seven feet tall.”

Harry scoffs dismissively, swinging an arm forward and settling his wrist over his bent knee, hand turning palm upwards for emphasis. “I can take him, no problem. A foot is nothing.”

Y/N props her chin onto her shoulder, maintaining her comfortable position stretched out across the couch, her back supported by the armrest. She sucks at her teeth in disagreement, pursing her lips with exaggerated contemplation. “I dunno, H. A foot is more than you think. What are you gonna do, jump on his back?”

He points at her warningly with his index finger, tone adamant. “I just fucking might!”

She releases another fit of bubbly giggles, cupping her tummy instinctively and for some reason that simple, unintentionally adorable action makes Harry’s pulse flutter in his temples.

He remains quiet for a bundle of heartbeats, just admiring the way her entire face glows when she smiles. He loves how bright she is— how lively and tender and easy-going. Her personality always shines through, no matter the instance. Whether it’s at a restaurant with their friend group, or at a get together at someone’s house, or when they’re sitting in the break room having a random, silly chat, or when he's balls-deep inside her with cameras trained on their every movement and there’s people watching every brush of their swollen lips, every caress of their heated skin, and every desperate plead whimpered onto eager tongues — no matter the tone and texture of the situation, she’s always the most blinding factor in the room. She’s just so golden.

“So you really think I can’t take this Bunyan bloke?” Harry inquires with a joking edge, his two front teeth chewing at the corner of his mouth to keep himself from grinning like an enamored fool.

“He’s a pretty big guy.” Y/N quips matter-of-factly, giving her shoulders a gentle shrug.

The edges of his lips twitch into a sly smirk. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty big, too...and you can attest to that.”

Even from across the room, he can see the way her whole body tightens at his lascivious dig. Her fingers halt the tapping on her knuckles and her eyes can’t seem to break free from his coy gaze, air struggling to expand her lungs.

Harry somehow always manages to make her speechless and she wishes he didn’t have that hold over her. They’re friends and coworkers; this influence on her could end in a real mess if she isn’t careful and the gig she has here at the company is too good to risk it. The porn industry is littered with producers that exploit their workers and women are more susceptible to this abuse than men, but somehow amidst the pile of shitty businesses, she had managed to book a permanent spot at a facility that treats their workers with the respect and dignity they deserve. Harry had been working here way longer than she had— he’d been here before she even knew the company existed. If things went downhill, she would have to be the one to leave.

Technicalities aside, Y/N’s worst fear is ruining her relationship with Harry. He had been the person that had comfortably eased her into the whole world of sexual entertainment and she would forever be thankful to him for making her experience smooth and seamless. They’d developed a decent friendship along the way, their personalities clicking together perfectly from the second they had been introduced, their chemistry practically palpable. Harry had been her partner in almost all of her videos— save a handful she had done with other stars as a way of testing the waters and branching out— and had introduced her to all of the friends she had made here. He’d shot with her for her first ever video in this profession and helped welcome her into something she had been extremely terrified to try. She cherishes him beyond words, which is why the idea of allowing some harmless flirting to grow into something with the potential to end in disaster outright ices her blood.

What she hates the most is that such a simple cocky comment had sent her into a midlife crisis.

She anchors herself back into reality, clearing her throat softly as her lashes flutter. “You’re a moron.”

Harry cracks a self-assured simper, messing with the chunky rings of the hand hanging off his knee. “You’re not denying it, though.”

Y/N huffs offhandedly, finally breaking the intense eye contact he’d pinned onto her, glossy eyes zoning in on tracing the checkered pattern of her worn sneakers. “Your dick is obviously big or else you wouldn’t have a job here.”

The deadpan bluntness behind her tone sends Harry into a round of boyish snickering. “I know, but I just love hearing you say it. Strokes my ego like nothing else.”

Y/N picks at one of the tears of her cosmetically tattered jeans, a strangely contented smile threatening to string across her lips at the idea of him enjoying the way she specifically praises him. “And we both know how much you love having things stroked, now don’t we?”

Harry bites into the inside of his cheek, humming in agreement deep in the back of his throat. He absolutely adores the way she can go toe to toe with his vulgarity. “Touché. Although, if I recall correctly, you never seem to have any complaints about being the one doing it.”

“S’part of the job.”

“I’m pretty sure your kitchen isn’t one of the designated filming rooms.”

“Practice makes perfect.”

Y/N’s jaw clenches as she feels Harry’s delighted condescending stare boring into the side of her face. He swings his arms out from behind him, slumping into the backrest of the couch, flexing forearms settling across the light blue fabric of the vintage Mickey Mouse t-shirt stretching over his broad chest. The foot resting on the ground braces itself onto the edge of the coffee table, the one on the couch shifting some, his thighs parting open even wider. She has to resist the urge to look, having to make due with the blurry image registering from her peripheral vision. Even out of focus, he looks incredible.

“D’you know what we’re shooting today?”

The change in topic gifts her the chance to recuperate and regroup; work talk is a sanctuary she is more than happy to inhabit.

Y/N cranes her neck to look over at Harry, refusing the impulse to check him out in his new, much more revealing position, meeting his eyes with an indifferent attitude that hides how buzzed he truly has her. “It’s something for a series you’re doing on your channel, right?”

Harry bobs his head in an easy nod, thumbing over the inside of his right elbow— a mindless mannerism. His lips twitch into a goofy grin. “Wanna know what I named it?”

“Something dumb, probably.”

“How Many Licks Does It Take To Make a Cherry Pop?”

Y/N sighs heavily through her nose. “Expected no less. It’s a bit long, though, don’t you think?”

“Maybe a little but the Wow Factor outsells.”

“Whatever you say.” Y/N checks the time on her phone, slipping it back into her rear jean pocket. They’d been sitting here waiting for their call for almost fifteen minutes now. “So from the looks of it, it’s mainly based around eating girls out?”

Harry scratches at the back of his neck casually, playing with the ringlets that curl along the nape of his neck. “Mmhm. Just thirty minutes of me making you cum as many times as I can with my tongue.”

The shells of Y/N’s ears burn. “Sounds like a dream. I’m getting paid just to lay there and I won’t even have to take off all my clothes.”

“Good karma, I suppose.” Harry glances impatiently towards the door of the break room, eager to get started. He doesn’t really know why, but he’s just gained an abrupt hunger to be nose deep between her thighs right this second. “Although, do you think you can pull your shirt up? Y’know how much I love a good view and you just look so fucking good in lace.”

She kinks an eyebrow up in mild shock at his accurate statement, pushing down the way his admiration makes her pulse skip a beat. “How did you know I was wearing lace?”

His tongue sweeps over the front of his teeth teasingly, Cupid’s Bow curving with a hint of perceptive glee. “Because you know it makes my balls ache.”

Y/N’s thighs unintentionally clasp together at his crudeness and she decides to put his insight to the test. “What color am I wearing, then?”

Harry sits forward, interest elating his limbs, forearms flushing against his thighs as he twiddles his thumbs between his separated knees. He takes a second to think it through, tilting his chin up slightly with a confident air. “Pastel peach.”

Her hands slap down against her tummy, the action tainted with disbelieving outrage. “How’d you know?!”

He chews on his bottom lip pensively as if carefully sewing his words together. “Because I complimented you the last time you wore it.”

A rush of white hot energy surges through Y/N’s entire nervous system. “Didn’t think you’d remember since you always compliment everyone.”

Harry shakes his head gently, twisting a metal rose ring around his middle finger. “Always remember you.”

An electrified silence falls between them, zizzing every molecule in the chilled air.

Y/N is well aware of the large number of people Harry’s been with and she had always assumed she would melt into the masses without much of a second thought. But here he was, telling her that she stood out to him enough that he could vividly recall the little odds and ends of flattery he gave her. It probably wasn’t much of anything and he was just being his polite, courteous self, but it made her stomach somersault nonetheless.

Her lips part open as if to speak, but her vocal chords can’t seem to find the pitch of her voice. She just lays there with her mouth agape for a second or so, fishing for a response that her brain has yet to conjure. Harry waits in anticipation, wanting to know her thoughts on small but meaningful confession.

Y/N is saved by a collection of swift hard knocks to the door of the room.

The knob turns and the door cracks open, a familiar face peeking in, bare chest covered in a sheen of short, disheveled hair and a complimentary company robe. Niall— a mutual friend and fellow entertainer— throws up a relaxed wave, icy blue eyes lighting up with the effortless jolliness he’s so well known for.

His voice filters through the heavy atmosphere, his thick Irish accent cutting the tension like a knife. “Oi, Jeff told me to come get you. Room’s set up.”

Harry licks over his lips absently, keeping his muted olive irises glued to Y/N for an extra heartbeat before breaking away, forcing an easy smile for Niall’s sake and matching it with banter. “Couldn’t come get us himself? Lazy prick.”

The sky-eyed young man shrugs his shoulders sloppily, his exorbitant laughter bouncing off the walls. “Was headed for my dressing room to clean up and you guys happened to be a pit stop on the way so it wasn’t much trouble.”

Harry pushes himself onto his feet, stretching out his back and twisting his torso from side to side. “S’about time, too. Been sitting here so long I thought my bones were gonna cement.”

Niall whistles sympathetically. “That’d be real shit for business.”

The British boy sputters into his next sentence with a flurry of giggles. “Fuck off.”

Y/N speaks up for the first time since before Niall burst in. “Jeff would basically lose all his income. Can you imagine the headlines? ‘World renowned adult entertainer Harry Styles hospitalized, leaving mother company in shambles!’”

“A right Shakespearean tragedy, that is.” Their blonde friend cackles, the suspicious bite marks on his lower lip tinting darker as his skin stretches.

“Lucky for me, I already have experience with Shakespearean tragedies.” Harry quips proudly, walking towards the exit and standing beside Niall with his arms crossed over his stomach nonchalantly.

The fellow pornstar scowls jestingly, reaching forward and tugging at the corner of Harry’s mustache. “Romeo and Juliets: The Four-Crossed Lovers doesn’t count, Obi-Wan.”

“Whatever.” Harry snaps in return, slapping Niall’s fingers out of his facial hair and smothering him with the palm of his hand, shoving the boy out the door. “Go clean the jizz off yourself.”

“Go clean the jizz off yourself.” The shorter man mimics mockingly, backing away from the door with both of his middle fingers prevalent.

Once Niall’s gone, Harry glimpses back at Y/N over his shoulder, coughing awkwardly. “So I guess I’ll see you in there, yeah?”

“Yeah.” She gives him a timid, watery smile, barely nodding her head.

“Alright. Show time, Peach Lace.”

The joking nickname eases the pressure of the situation to a bearable level. She repeats his phrase in agreement, shrugging her brows as cool and collected as her churning tummy will allow. “Show time.”

Harry’s messy quiff of curls disappears down the corridor that leads to their designated room and Y/N can properly gulp down air for the first time since he asked her what she thought about his beard.

It’s then that she realizes she never really answered his question directly, but she gets the feeling that he knows where her opinion lies.

#pornstar!harry #drabble

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