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geminimoonbeamx · 2 years

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Washing Machine Heart

A/N: Welp, here you go. This has been sitting in my drafts for over a year.

Warnings: Unprotected sex. Extramarital affair. Age difference(reader is in her mid twenties). Talks of death. Mild Daddy Kink

Pairing: Andy Barber x Plus Sized! Reader

Summary: You have always had horrible coping skills, but having an affair with a married man might just take the cake

“Toss your dirty shoes in my washer machine heart,

Baby bang it up inside.

I’m not wearing my usual lipstick,

I thought maybe we could kiss tonight”- Mitski

You're always late for shit like this.

It's not your fault the universe works against you. You’d got stuck on a call at work, the line at Starbucks had been wrap around long, the usual. Murphy’s law, you know? If something could go wrong, then it would.

Newton Massachusetts; gorgeous, in that old East Coast kind of way. Expensive in it too, the neighborhoods lined with historic and modern build alike, nearly all of them million dollar homes. Doctors, Lawyers, Fortune 500 owners the population was littered with socialites-

And all of their children went to Archer. The Middle School was harder to get into then most state colleges- which in your opinion had always been ridiculous but potato, potatoh, as you pull into the parking lot littered with shiny Benz’s and Range Rovers in every shade and model your stomach flutters, uncomfortably nervous.

You’d gone to Asher, and even then. You could feel the classism, the tiers so clearly established- It was one thing to be a student there. And a completely different thing to be a parent.

Asher Middle School is a shark tank. A very nicely decorated one, but a shark tank none the less. Full of PTA moms, dorsal fins standing on high alert as they sniff out the waters for any trace of blood.

Parking is a pain, as always. And as you run across the campus greenery, as quick as your tall chunky boots will allow, you fight the intrusive thoughts about setting the pretty fish tank on fire.

------------

It's not that you hate the school, no. You just hate what it stands for. Hate that it represents the massive responsibility that you’d taken on. When you used to walk these halls, life was boundless. No end in sight, no care in the world. Nostalgia settles heavy in your chest, as it usually does. Longing-

You check your phone and curse,

You’re so fucking late.

As you round the corner to Conference Room B,

You have to wonder. Was it the universe keeping away from the school? Or your conscience? It wasn't Jiminy Cricket small and whispering. It was something heavier, and it screamed at the top of its lungs.

Especially as he comes into view.

Gripping the venti green tea latte, tight, you hold your head up high. Practiced nonchalance blanketing your features.

“Look who’s late. Again” he remarks, small smirk tugging on his too pink lips. He’s put together, impeccably, as he always is. Pressed dress pants, long dark trench. His beard lined up razor sharp and his hair coiffed. “At this point, its habitual”

“Andy, If I wanted your opinion, I'd pay for it” you strike back, your heart dancing an uneven two step, hidden away in your chest.

“I don't think you could afford my rates” He chuckles low as as you pass him, go for the door. You know better then to say anything more, then to exchange more then a friendly handful of words, even if the hallway is empty, it’s not.

There’s too many eyes, cameras, whispering mouths.

You just quirk your manicured brow, give him a small private smile “And what about a discount, hmm? For a friend” the word is exaggerated, pinpricked and bratty.

You don't wait for a reply,

If you can't even be seen talking to one another, you sure as shit can't walk in together.

You let the heavy wooden door close behind you, slamming in his face.

------------

The meeting for the Fall Fest Formal goes painlessly enough, there's a jab here and there about your timing. A few stares at your exposed legs, even if they are encased in sheer black tights.

Just because you’d been forced into the role of motherhood, didn't mean you were going to dress the part. You’d play their game for them, if only for the sake of Lottie. Take on the decorating committee. “Yeah, sure- I could come a couple hours and help set up. No probs”

What about the bake sale? The fundraiser? The blood drive.

They circle you, in open water. You’re a decade, maybe two, younger then most of them. No established career or big earning husband. Fresh meat, raw and bloody.

You don't sway as they verbally push and pull. Their smiles are fanged, but you avoid them. If only narrowly.

“I bake a mean Red Velvet cupcake. Gluten free, of course” translates to get fucked, you hope Joan Rifkin understands the subliminal message loud and clear.

You're eager to leave, busy, always on the run. The last period bell rings shrilly and it floods you with relief. You kiss cheeks and exchange numbers, and not once do you look at Andy Barber.

You pat yourself on the back about it as you grab Lottie, pack her into your compact SUV and take off-

Your days not over, not by a long shot.

Why your niece is such an extroverted creature, you’ll never know. Her social calendar drains your battery, yet she stays bubbly. Smile. Very much thirteen years old.

“And then Trish said that Miles doesn’t like Everly, even though he obviously does. Jealousy’s ugly-”

“Just like her new haircut” you interject, because Trish’s mom was a cunt, and she was raising her daughter to be one too.

“That’s mean!” Lottie whines, before she giggles “She does kinda look like Lord Farquaad, though”

She jabbers on as the speakers play the new Billie Eilish, you always let her connect her Spotify after school. Decompressing and expressing and all that, the therapist had said.

Lottie’s so well adjusted, the last half a year had rolled off her back and right onto the floor. She’s not weighed down, not that you can tell. And that’s what matters. Taking the brunt of the pressure really isn't that big of a deal, not when Lottie beams as she talks about the upcoming Science Fair.

You’d commute across town and back for Soccer, and Gymnastics. For Ballet on Sundays and Student Council on Wednesdays-

The dash of your car beep and flashes with an incoming text and you quickly swipe it away when you see who from, before Lottie can read it.

She shrugs it off, continues to gossip about her fellow eighth graders and you listen, half-heartedly.

It’s not until you drop her off, her brunette ponytail bobbing as she enters the mouth of the Recreation Center that you pull the unread message backup.

From Andy, it reads in bold.

I want to see you. Tomorrow night?

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You promised yourself that you were going to end this toxic shit. That your plate was too full for Andy and his family sized baggage. Vented to your best girlfriends about it, drank about it, cried under your thick duvet about it

Can’t. I’m busy, it’s a friend’s birthday dinner. Already RSVP’d

You respond, feeling strong. Saying no-

Your weak bitch, dickmatized brain ruins it all a moment later, your fingers moving without your permission.

Thursday? Wanna take a long lunch? I can meet you after Yoga?

It’s not until later that night, cooking dinner in your dead sister's kitchen, that your phone dings with a reply. You stir at the stir-fry with the large wooden spoon as you open it.

Can’t wait. Send me the location and I’ll be there.

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You’d fallen in love with Yoga your junior year of college, and it had never really faded. You like pushing your body to limits that you never knew you could pass. Short and stout, your plus sized body wasn't a limitation, except to society's eyes. And even then, as you leave Orangetheory, see how the Gym Rats look at your ass in your neon pink athslethure. Fatphopic by day, Chubby Chasing in the shadows. It’s how it's always been.

In white suburbia, it only seems to be worse.

No matter, you ignore them. Drop dead, eat your heart out.

Still down for lunch? Your nails clack against your phone screen as you text. Your heart rate still hasn't gone down from your workout and this sure didn't help its cause.

You know I am. Hungry? Wanna do Yard House or that Bistro you liked?

Both are well out of the suburbs, closer to the city. Boston and its overpopulation an easy cover.

You don't want to sit across from him in some restaurant, you don't want to politely order a club salad and make small talk while the two of you burn and simmer and ache.

I’m horny, we’ll do lunch after. Meet me at Olmstead park- i’ll drop a pin

You boldly reply, chewing on your bottom lip, fiddling with your keys. Your already shaky, endorphins pumping, excited.

See you soon, daddy.

You're behind the wheel when your phone chimes over and over, Andys texts coming in quick, eager succession.

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Olmstead Park is acres big, littered with tons of different running paths. A grand lake, heavily wooded.

Secluded, especially this early in the day.

“Fuck” you squeal, tears rolling down your face as Andy gives a particularly rough thrust- you feel it in your throat, have to grit your teeth and work through the pleasure pain of him hitting your cervix.

It’s good, so good. Too good, the added layer of voyeurism doing something unexplainable to the both of you.

You’d both parked in an empty lot, Andy’s Audi more than half hidden by an old overgrown willow, It doesn't matter that you're all but in the clear, he assures you. That no one will find you here, he’d attested.

There’s something about the fact that they could.

Someone could stumble down a path, catch a glimpse from across the lake.

See you bent over in Andys back seat, your tight leggings pulled off and thrown to the ground, your plump ass arched high up into the air as he takes you from behind. Andy’s still mostly dressed, his navy button up askew and undone, his charcoal dress slacks pooled around his knees.

It’s hot. The hottest thing you’ve ever done. Every time you think sex with Andy cant get any better, it just does. Like he’s not even trying.

You’ve been at it for a while, the space is steamy and reeks of sex. Your groin burns, your thighs ache, you’re gasping for breath like a fish out of water.

He’s already made you come, twice. Once around his fingers, his tongue laving at your swollen fat clit and the other just moments after he’d slid into you. It’s wet and messy. Your thick thighs, his drenched beard. It rubs irritation against your shoulder as he presses his face into your shoulder.

“Andy” you blubber, overheating. You feel like your dying.

“Take it, baby. Be good for me” He gruffs, demanding. Begging. “You’re so good for me. You need it, huh?”

Your vision swims, at the praise. At the sound of his sandpaper voice. All you can do is nod, too overwhelmed to answer. He knows fully well how bad you need him.

You can't give this up.

His pace picks up and your pussy burns, overstimulated. Raw. Stretched to its max, you’d never been with anyone so big. You weren't blowing smoke up his as the first time you’d told him that, four months ago. It hurt then and it hurts now. Your blood sings for it, for the grounding pain that came with Andy fucking your brains out.

He never goes easy on you. He knows, always had, that that’s not what either of you need. He has his waif like wife to fuck softly, to lay out and make love to. A sick part of you revels in the nation, in the fucking fact, that you know she can’t take him like this. Can’t take this ramming pace. Can’t take his dick the way he truly likes to give it-

“Feels so good huh? Why’d you make me wait” He’s speech is broken grunts, his thrust pauses in between his words “Why’d you try to take this pussy away from me?”

You’re going to pass out, there’s no air in this humid car. Your lungs are going to burst. Your chest is going to concave in. “C-can’t”

“Can’t what? Can’t believe you we’re able to hold out for two weeks? Can’t believe you could handle it?”

It had been a hard two weeks, empty. Longing.

You don't think you could ever do that again. Ever.

The thought is terrifying and final and you reach backwards for his hand, needing him closer. Needing him to hold you.

“Shh- it’s okay” Andy coo’s, his entire weight pressing down on your back. Smothering you. Perfect. It changes the angle and you have to bite the leather interior, your screams still echoing.

You wonder how he'd explain the teeth imprints near the left side window control.

Andy spews more filth, most of it muddled nonsense as his hips begin to shift restlessly, as his grin on you turns vice tight and painful. When he comes it's quiet, intense. He holds you as he floods you and you whine at him, about how much you love it.

You almost tell him how much you love him.

You don't feel guilty after, and you know that's horrible. You feel lighter, happier. Floaty, you giggle as he kisses your cheeks, temples. His beard reeks of you, and if you had the time you'd lick it clean and push his dark head back between your thighs.

Cleaning up is awkward, especially in the back of his car that seen so much smaller now that you’re regaining your bearings. You’d shower later, and as hot as it is it's also pretty gross that he’d be dripping out of you until you got home. Dash stashed napkins really couldn't do the trick.

“Are you going to freeze me out again?” He inquires as he tucks himself back into his slacks. He’s all too casual about it.

“Probably” you answer honestly.

It’s quiet- and you hate that you can't give voice to all of the thoughts in your head.

“I’ll be here if you need me”

It’s sure, confidently spoken. A promise.

You don't acknowledge it, but you tuck it away somewhere deep. Cling to it.

Ignore the fact that he’s already spoken those same vows to someone else.

Welp when I said I was back I meant it. Double posting? In this economy? Pls enjoy it while it lasts.

Also- my taglist is open and being re-built! let me know if you would like to be added to it for any future story posts!

#andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber smut #andy barber x plus size reader #andy barber x plus sized reader #defending jacob #chris evans #chris evans smut #non marvel #daddy andy barber

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markleespitsbars · 2 years

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heart and soul ~ jjh

ch.4 ~ an offer you can't resist

an in a world of magic and mystery story

summary: Something within her had always known that there was something fishy about that reclusive Yoonoh. And it's tonight that her will is going to be tested more than ever, with a promise of anything she could ever want dangling in front of her, just out of reach. She can't give in. She won't give in. But that voice in her head is getting harder and harder to fight.

pairing: demon!jaehyun x fem!reader

word count: 5.4k

tw: manipulation tactics, mentions of implied stalking

prev. chapter | back to masterlist

“Thanks for driving us again, Eric,” Y/n said, smiling at the man from the back seat of his slick Locomobile.

“No problem,” he replied, matching her expression as he met her gaze in the cop-spotter that had been affixed to the glass in front of him. “Yoonoh seemed to really like you two the last time you were here, so I figured I’d get the chance to make the drive again someday anyways.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Feifei chimed in, sending a knowing look to Y/n before shifting her gaze back out of the window. “He’s a bit… mysterious.”

“Understatement of the decade, darling,” Eric replied, taking a swig of his cigarette. “Andy practically lives with him, and we know next to nothing about his personal life.”

“Why?” Feifei asked curiously. “Just doesn’t talk about it much?”

“Doesn’t talk much, more like,” Eric said with a laugh. “Yoonoh prefers to stay cooped up unless something… I don’t know, compels him to leave his room? He’s a good guy, though, from what I can tell.”

“Just a bit of a recluse?”

Eric’s jaw clenched, and he shrugged as he turned down a little street closer to the neighborhood. “You know, ironically, we have a couple of gangs in the area that call him the Spider. Maybe that’s why.”

Feifei laughed, her jaw dropping in disbelief. “You have gangs over here?”

“What borough doesn’t?”

“I mean, I only figured. This is such a nice area, and the people seem so friendly.”

Eric shrugged. “It isn’t without its troubles, though. Money, and the greed for it, will do crazy things to people’s minds. Shit’s dangerous. You’ve got guys living on mountains of cash they don’t know what to do with. And even the rich ones out there would do anything to get their hands on more of it. Yoonoh pisses a lot of those guys off.”

Y/n felt a twinge of fear in her chest, something akin to panic. “Seems like his parties are a bit… public, if that’s the case.”

“Yeah, that’s why they can’t stand him. He’s flashy. Never wastes an opportunity to gloat about how rich he is, and yet not a soul knows where the money came from. They can’t hurt him because he’s basically a no-name. No famous relative, no connection to a big company, nothing. The money is his, always has been, and that gives him more power than any of those goons can handle.”

“Must’ve come through investments, then,” Y/n said. “If he has so much dough without lifting a finger, he’s got to be pretty well-made on Wall Street.”

“Maybe,” Eric replied. “I wouldn’t doubt that’s where it came from, but it’s impressive he was able to work his way up just through private stocks, if that’s the case.”

Feifei’s brow furrowed. “There’s no record of him?”

“Not a single one.”

“How’s he not been caught for tax fraud? The money has to come from somewhere, doesn’t it?”

“Hey, don’t ask me how the man files his taxes. I’m in the know, but that’s his deal.” The car fell quiet for a moment, the whirring motor finally louder than the chatter for the first time in a while. Y/n felt the air thicken; it’d been growing more eerie as the conversation went on, but now things were just strange.

Yoonoh had always seemed pretty sketchy. Even after performing at his place once, she’d never come to know how he’d even found out about their little performance duo, nor how he found Feifei’s contact to reach out in the first place. It was like he was a walking mystery, every piece of him just shrouded in the unknown.

And then there was everything that had happened last month. Y/n had no idea what his end goal was of lying to both of them about one another’s whereabouts, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out. Had he truly wanted to get her alone? If so… why? He seemed so fervently against what the other two men at the party had been up to, and until he’d begun pestering her about the bruises lining her arms, he seemed like someone who truly wanted her to stay out of trouble in her slightly drunken state. And she appreciated that, but he needed to learn a thing or two about boundaries.

“Anyways,” Eric said, breaking the silence as he turned into the little gated area just outside the mansion, “we’re almost here. I’ll stay right outside and make sure you’re together before I head back tonight, alright? Not sure what that act was he pulled a while ago, but it won’t happen again.”

“Better not,” Feifei scoffed under her breath, leaning her head against the window of the Locomobile and watching the lines of tall trees fly by as Eric drove them down the driveway. “We agreed we wouldn’t let it happen again.” And Y/n nodded with a little hum of affirmation, taking a deep breath and hoping she was right.

A few minutes later, Y/n and Feifei were back inside the stunning foyer of the mansion, and Y/n was feeling particularly nervous about the night’s concert. She wanted desperately to believe that there was nothing fishy going on, but as she stumbled through what felt like hordes of wealthy, extravagant couples mingling amongst themselves, she couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong, that she didn’t really belong in this sort of environment. And she’d felt that the first time, too, to a certain extent, but now that the temperature outside was dropping and everyone in the crowd seemed to be dressed in the most lavish, expensive coats doused in fur collars and cuffs while theirs had been cheaply store-bought… it felt more obvious.

But they bundled in closer, tugging the wool closer to their bodies and preparing to head back into the sprawling yard where they’d last performed, an oddly familiar sight that brought back at least a bit of the confidence that they’d lost, and confidence that was instantly drained of all life once again when a smooth voice called out for them from across the small patio-like room. “Pardon me.”

A fierce chill set in before Y/n had even opened the door. She spun around to face him, just out of politeness, but her stomach dropped at the sight of him, nudging through a few other party-goers before approaching them.

“I wanted to apologize for the confusion last month,” he said, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his burgundy slacks and bowing his head a little. “I know I talk big, but—

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Feifei replied, putting on her best façade of a smile that Y/n found incapable of replicating. “I know it’s hard to keep up with everybody here when you have so many guests. We were all a little drunk at the time, and no one got hurt. No harm done.” Yoonoh chuckled quietly, flashing his teeth and shaking his head.

“I think you’re misunderstanding,” he said, straightening out his back. “I wasn’t calling it an accident.” Y/n’s face hardened. She’d been right; he’d meant to do it the whole time, had lied right to their faces, and now he was trying to apologize? “Well, don’t give me that look,” he said, frowning at Y/n. “I only mean to say that my intentions in doing what I did might have gotten a little twisted, so I wanted to clarify that I never meant harm to either of you, and I’m glad to have you both back to perform.”

“How could we refuse, with the pay bump?” Y/n asked, and Feifei snorted.

Yoonoh’s mouth opened and closed, as if he was trying to search for words. “I… actually, could I speak to you in private for a minute?”

“What? No.”

“Sorry, that came out wrong,” he said, licking at his lips and bringing a hand to adjust the navy skinny scarf he had loosely tied around his neck. “We can talk here, if you’d prefer that, but it’s concerning some things I feel like you’d rather keep private. I know you don’t trust me after last time, so… think about it, alright? I’ll be at the bar.” He turned on his heel, sending the two women a polite smile, and then he disappeared behind the wall leading to the lounge where the drinks would be.

Y/n felt her blood pressure drop back down to a healthy level at his departure, letting out a long breath. “He’s seriously creepy.”

“I don’t know, Y/n,” Feifei mused, tossing an arm over her shoulder and spinning her back around to head outside. “He almost seemed… flirty?”

“Well, obviously,” she replied. “Look at him. He was crafted by some holy being to charm people, I’ll bet.”

She cringed at the idea. “Okay, sure, he’s too pretty to not be suspicious. I’ll give you that. But… we swore we wouldn’t drink tonight. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Y/n scoffed, shivering under the sudden wind of the November air when Feifei slung the door open and crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t know, he could kill me. And we also swore we’d stay together.”

Feifei frowned. “Listen, I’m with you that the guy gives off weird signals, but I don’t think a huge party with hundreds of people is quite the place to murder someone. Plus, he sounded nervous to talk to you at all.”

“Why are you encouraging this, Fei?” Y/n finally asked with a huff, stopping in her tracks and turning to her roommate. “I thought you were the one that wanted me to be cautious here.”

Feifei blinked a few times, seemingly unable to come up with an answer. “I…”

“Was it the drive here? Did Eric convince you that he could be trusted?”

“Y/n, calm down,” she pleaded. “Just… talk to him. If things turn sour, you know where to find me—”

“No, I don’t!” Y/n exclaimed. “People disappear in this crowd, Fei. I’d lose you, just like last time.”

“Then I’ll stay by the stage,” she suggested. “I’ll set everything up with the band. You go talk to him now, make it quick, and I’ll still be out here when you get back.”

Y/n’s hands clenched into fists against her chest, partly staving off the cold and partly because she knew Feifei would keep her promise. A nasty worm of curiosity had dug deep into her mind, a little itch at the back of her mind that made her far too interested in finding out why Yoonoh wanted to talk to her.

It was like an invisible pull, one that drew her back inside and made her want to leave Feifei stranded. She knew the bar opened up to the yard, and for a second she wondered if Yoonoh had been watching her through the window, waiting for her to make a decision. Her head started to stir again, pounding to an almost unbearable extent as she glanced back to the mansion, looking for him. But she couldn’t find him through the bodies that swarmed the room, especially considering she was so far away now that her vision had to be failing her.

She finally relented, hoping that giving herself some other issue to worry about would take her mind off of the sudden migraine. “Fine,” she sighed, reaching a hand out for Feifei’s bag, “but I need some Antifebrin first.”

“That bad?”

“Just started,” she muttered, clicking the purse open and digging around for the bottle. “I’ll head inside and take it with some water. If I’m not back in twenty minutes, assume I’m dead.”

“You got it.” And with a deep huff of a breath, Y/n turned on her heel with a single pill in her hand, scurrying back inside before the cold could nip at her ears even more.

She found the bar just as easily as she had the last time. It was only a couple of turns through the halls away, the little patio and the lounge connected to the same hall that stuck off of the foyer. But as her eyes darted around for the man she was looking for, she came up short, seeing nothing but a crowd of strangers who were paying no attention to her. She snuck up to the side of the bar, scanning the stools that lined it but only finding people sitting in all of them, and she quietly stared at the bartender until he noticed her standing there.

He grinned when he did, scrubbing down a glass before walking over to her. “Bee’s Knees for the singer, right?”

She shook her head. “Just water tonight, actually. Have a bit of a headache.” He nodded, quickly filling a glass and sliding it a short distance on the wood before shooting her another smile and turning back to attend to the other guests. Y/n quickly downed the pill in her hand, grimacing at the tightness in her throat as she shoved it down. But she barely got another sip of her water down before she nearly choked on it. “I hope that’s not vodka.”

Y/n held herself together, her heart racing at Yoonoh’s sudden intrusion, and turned her head to her right to see him leaning on the bar, resting his weight on his elbow and staring at the glass in her hand. She gave him a deadpan look, taking another swig of it. “It is. I’m getting drunk before the performance.”

Yoonoh definitely didn’t believe her, judging by the grin that tugged at the side of his mouth, but he played along. “Yeah? Do you usually get drunk before you have to sing?”

“Calms the nerves,” she replied smoothly, staring down into her glass as his eyes dug needles into the side of her face, almost wishing there had been alcohol in it, if only to avoid the nerves she was feeling right now.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect you to show up so quickly,” Yoonoh said, squeezing into the bar stool at the end of the bar just as one of his guests stood up and left. “I had a little business meeting to finish up. Thought you’d take more than a few minutes.” He waited for a response, but nothing came. “Do you want to sit down?”

Y/n shrugged. “It’s full. Don’t mind me.”

But he only smirked, glancing at the seat beside him until the man sitting there had also gotten up to head elsewhere. “Not full anymore. Sit.” She stared at him pointedly for a moment, almost as if to see if he’d been bluffing, but after a few moments of persistence, she stepped around the back of him and slid into the stool to his right. “I’m sorry,” he said again, sucking in air between his teeth as if the words hurt to get out.

She stared down into her glass of water, jaw clenched. “Why did you do that? What did you want from me?”

“The same thing I want from you tonight,” he said smoothly, “but I figured at least being truthful about it might work out better this time.”

Y/n scoffed, rolling her eyes. “If you were trying to drag me into a room alone to—”

“Who said that was my intention?” he asked. “I could sleep with any woman at this party if I wanted. I wouldn’t waste my time chasing anyone in particular.” And her jaw dropped, her head snapping to gawk at Yoonoh, who was staring forward with a little smirk on his face. He turned his head to her, raising an eyebrow in amusement. “I didn’t take you as someone to be offended over a comment like that.”

“No, just—” She gulped, scoffing again. “The gall you must have to just say that so brazenly…”

He shrugged. “I told you I’d prefer to be truthful tonight.”

“That isn’t what I wanted the truth about,” she replied with an overdramatic gag as she sipped on her water a little more.

Yoonoh chuckled. “Well, if you wouldn’t make assumptions, I wouldn’t have to disprove them.”

“I wasn’t—”

“You did,” he interjected, running a hand through his messy hair before setting his chin on the heel of his palm. “I assume you would like to know the real reason, though. Am I correct?”

“Of course I would.”

Yoonoh was quiet for a moment, his gaze lingering on the bartender for a second before he sent a short nod over his way. And then he folded his hands in front of him, twiddling his thumbs together. “I’ve heard you sing before, you know,” he said slowly, not meeting her eyes. “This past summer. In the Back Room—”

“Hey!” Y/n exclaimed, fighting the urge to reach out and slap a hand over his mouth. “You can’t talk about that in public!”

“Didn’t I say earlier that I’d rather have had this conversation in private?” he sighed, leaning back on his stool and sending her an expectant look. “That offer’s still open if you’d rather not bring up the blind tigers here.”

There it was again: that menacing chill of curiosity that crept up the back of her spine and made her already pounding head cloud with desire. It really didn’t matter how badly she didn’t want to be alone with him; Yoonoh was right. Even mentioning the Back Room by name in the presence of someone who knew about it could land anyone in serious trouble, and she couldn’t risk that, not when she was already barely scraping by as it was.

So she agreed. “Fine,” she said, chugging the rest of her water and standing up. “But if you try to pull anything…”

“I won’t,” he assured, giving her what was, for all intents and purposes, a convincing smile. And he grabbed his own glass, gesturing for her to follow him through the house yet again. It was almost a laughable parallel, especially after she’d convinced herself that she wouldn’t let it happen again. But Yoonoh was persistent, talked pretty and polite, and there was no way to say no to him without feeling like you were coming off as the one in the wrong. It was so backwards, so irritating, and she hated that she’d gone along with it a second time without even understanding why or how she’d given in so quickly.

But she twisted through the winding halls of his mansion all the same, heading up flights and flights of stairs until he’d led her to another hall not dissimilar to the one they’d found themselves in a month ago—but this hall had a single door at the end of it, one that seemed larger and grander than the rest that lined the walls. Yoonoh led her right to it, tugging a small key from his coat pocket and twisting it in the lock of the ornate golden handle.

Y/n tried to hold in her gasp when he opened the door, instantly revealing a small, black statue of an angel in a sunken-in archway, painted to look like a lilac-filled flower garden. He held the door open for her, ushering her to the right, where a little staircase led down to another little alcove with a single armchair beneath a metal-plated skylight next to another hallway. “Watch your step,” he murmured as she stepped in front of him, shutting the door as she passed and following carefully behind her as she explored. She glanced back at him. “I promise it’s not a dead end,” he assured her with a chuckle, ushering her forward and taking a little sip of his gin.

And he was right; only a few steps down the hall and Y/n found another archway that opened up to reveal a sprawling living quarters, complete with a fireplace burning on the side wall, bookshelves stacked to the ceiling, plush sofas and velvet-lined chairs, and a grand nook in the corner with its own glass dining table that opened up to a balcony overlooking part of the mansion’s atrium.

“This is my bedroom,” Yoonoh announced from behind her, leaning on the frame of the archway as she looked back at him with a gaped jaw.

“Bedroom?” she repeated, the sight before her completely unbelievable. “Where do you sleep?”

Yoonoh lifted his glass and gestured to a door on the other side of the room. “Down the hall.”

“There’s another hall.”

“Two more, technically.”

“This… this one room is the size of my apartment,” she breathed, stepping just a bit further inside.

“That surprises you?”

Y/n sighed, feeling small under his gaze. “Guess not.”

Yoonoh walked to the dining table in the corner, setting his glass on it and shrugging his coat off of his shoulders, draping it over the back of one of the chairs. “You can take yours off, too, if you want. With the fire going, it’ll get hot as hell in here pretty soon.”

She hesitated, remembering what she’d told Feifei before leaving to find him. “Actually, I promised my roommate I’d make it quick. I don’t want to get too comfortable here.”

Yoonoh inhaled sharply, adjusting the cuffs of his thick gray sweater and stepping over to the back of one of the sofas, leaning on it. “You might want to pencil in a bit more time.”

Feifei sighed, looking over worriedly to the mansion. It’d certainly been longer than twenty minutes now, enough time that she was setting up for a solo performance at this point. She adjusted her microphone, stepping back from it and scurrying off the stage as quickly as she could. “Hey!” one of the trumpet players called after her, and she spun on her heel to face him. “Where are you headed? We start in five minutes!”

“Gotta powder my nose!” she called back, spinning back around and nearly running to the back door, her legs taking her as fast as they could manage without making her look insane.

She basked in the sudden warmth of the indoors for only a moment, nudging through swarms of people mingling and drinking and dancing until she found the spot she was looking for: the bar.

And she looked all over the place, made sure to check every last head in the room, but Y/n was nowhere to be found, nor was Yoonoh. They were gone. He had mentioned the bar, hadn’t he? Surely she wasn’t forgetting.

And that meant that they’d both left… probably together.

Feifei felt a twinge of panic and a weight of shame. She’d been the one to suggest to Y/n that they talk, and now she was eating her words, all of her roommate’s reservations becoming real to her. There was no telling where Yoonoh had taken her, what he could be doing to her right now.

She had half a mind to go searching, but the mansion was far too big to check every room. There was no way she’d be able to find them, at least not in time.

And as the band called her back outside to start her set for the night—alone—she let the guilt of signing her roommate’s life away eat away at her.

“You… you’ve seen them?”

“They weren’t hard to notice that night,” Yoonoh explained, leaning back against the cushion behind him. “You weren’t trying to hide them then.”

“I didn’t think I needed to. The Back Room is filled with… you know.”

Yoonoh chortled. “People who would’ve hurt you if you weren’t already,” he answered for her, and Y/n found herself nodding along.

“Why were you even there?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Sorry, but you… don’t seem like the type to frequent the tigers.”

“I find myself in the East Side from time to time,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “For business, usually. I probably wouldn’t stop by when I’m in town, but the owner makes good cocktails.”

“They are good cocktails,” she agreed, grinning just a little bit. “Anyways…”

“Anyways,” Yoonoh repeated, getting back on track, “I might’ve… overheard some talk about you in the audience. I knew the guys. They’re not… the sort of people you want to be getting into any sort of mess with.” Y/n was quiet, the news stunning her into silence. So Yoonoh continued. “I usually wouldn’t mind the buzz. Everyone talks, but I think they knew you. Like… knew you.”

“What do you mean, they knew me?”

“They were going on about how they’ve seen you going to and from work a couple times, how they’d seen you in pictures with their buddies, how you were an easy target.”

She shook her head, scoffing. “Don’t screw with me.”

“I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“I’m fine,” she stressed. “Besides, that was months ago. If they had anything seriously against me, I’d be in way worse shape right now.”

Yoonoh bit his tongue at her stubbornness, choosing his words carefully. “I guess so.”

“Who even were they?” she asked after a moment, trying to draw more information out of him. “You said you knew them.”

“I recognized them,” he said, “but I don’t know them by name. They’re part of an underground ring of gangsters that we see every once in a while. There are rumors they’re associated with the mafia, but I don’t get myself involved in matters like that.”

“The mafia?” Y/n repeated, her eyes wide. It seemed he’d finally gotten her attention with that word, its presence in the room like some sort of land mine that he’d stepped on. “You’re saying the mafia is after me?”

“They’re only rumors,” Yoonoh said, leaning forward and grabbing his gin from the coffee table between them. “I just didn’t want to take any chances.” She looked at him suspiciously, picking at her nails and glancing between him and the glass.

“But why go out of your way for me?”

He grinned. “I like your voice,” he answered casually behind the rim of his glass before setting it back down. “Wouldn’t want it to be silenced. That’s why I invited you here in the first place.”

“I told you, I’m fine,” she said again, shoving down the swell of pride in her chest at his attempt to flatter her.

“Maybe you are now,” he began, “but I’m worried that those mob grunts might have more connections to you than you realize. And if I know anything about their line of work, it’s that they can choose to act on those connections in a split second. A few degrees of separation later, and you’re going to be fighting for your life.”

Y/n’s jaw clenched. “And how does that concern you?”

“It doesn’t,” he replied with a shrug. “I just said I like your voice. Consider it payment for what I’m about to offer you.” He watched her lips part, watched her brow furrow, watched as she tried to come up with all of the possibilities in her head before he could say anything more. And it was amusing, the way she fought to understand what she was getting herself into. It was even more amusing to know that she’d already gone in way too deep with little hope of digging herself back out, and she didn’t even realize it.

But he waited until she popped the question anyways. “…What are you offering me?”

His answer came instantaneously. “I want you to live here.”

She was quiet for a moment, taking a few seconds to process his words before she began to laugh. “You’re playing some kind of joke, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m serious,” he said, chuckling along with her. He supposed the sudden offer was a bit unbelievable. “You stay here for as long as you need, and I’ll offer you as much protection as I can in exchange for your voice at my parties.”

Y/n was already shaking her head. “You have an ulterior motive.”

“Maybe I do, but I’ll let my actions speak for themselves when I tell you they’re not anything bad.”

“But I’m fine on my own,” she countered. “It’s not the most comfortable life, but Fei and I are managing.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Yoonoh said, sighing heavily. “You sing at the Back Room covered in bruises. You come to my house trying to cover them up. And it’s only been a month and I still see fresh spots popping up on you. Your wrist has a ring of purple that wasn’t there the last time I saw you. I’m saying that whatever, whoever is causing that… you need to get away from that environment. It’s not safe. It’s damaging you.”

“Yoonoh, I cannot just quit my job. It’s been my bread and butter for years now. I don’t have the resume to get in anywhere else.”

He took a minute to respond, quirking an eyebrow in curiosity. “It’s in your workplace, then?”

“It’s nothing that concerns you,” she said, repeating her words from earlier. “Good intentions or not, it’s awfully strange that you recognized some men thought to be mobsters. If they’re as dangerous as you say, I can’t be too cautious, and you could be one of them. Working for them.”

“I could be,” Yoonoh said. “I’m not, but you’re not wrong to be cautious. It’s your choice either way.”

Y/n was quiet, watching him intently and trying to find any sort of insincerity on his face. But she found none, his gaze as unwavering as ever, certain of himself and certain of his intentions, whatever they may have been. So she narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s in it for me, then?”

Yoonoh smirked. “What, besides the hundred-something-room manor that’s yours to roam, or the swanky cars or bottomless bottles of alcohol? Getting some sort of peace and quiet at night instead of whatever madness happens on the streets of Brooklyn these days chiming in through the window?”

“I don’t need your lifestyle,” she deadpanned. “It’s… lavish, sure, but I’m not gaining anything by leaving my apartment behind.”

“Then tell me what you need,” Yoonoh told her, an odd, prideful air of nonchalance to his tone that had Y/n’s skin suddenly littered with goosebumps. “Anything you want. I’ll make it happen.”

She shook her head. “You… you couldn’t offer me what I want,” she said. “No one could.”

His voice was low, challenging, a venom coursing through it that almost sounded inhuman. “Try me.”

“It’s complicated,” she said, trying to reason with him. “Sometimes I don’t even know how to put it into words.”

Yoonoh didn’t reply, his hard stare softening for a moment in a way that could’ve picked apart her brain and found the answer without her needing to say anything at all. And then he threw back the rest of his gin, standing from the sofa and walking back over to grab his coat. “Sit on it, yeah? I don’t need an answer now.”

“But…”

He hummed, glancing over to her as he shrugged the coat back on. “Just let me know when you think of something. Money’s no issue. I’ll get your roommate a ride home. Do you want to break the news, or should I?”

“Yoonoh, I—”

“Temptation is the damnedest thing, isn’t it?” he mused, pacing back over to the exit hallway of his bedroom. “Come on. Hundred-something rooms in the house to sit and think. Don’t make this the one.”

She scurried to grab her own coat, following after him hastily. “But I’m not…”

“Aren’t you?”

“I never said yes.”

Yoonoh’s hand paused on the handle of the door, and he turned back to offer her a sickeningly sweet smile. “You never said no, either.”

“You didn’t give me the chance to!”

He chuckled. “My apologies for assuming you wouldn’t be so blind as to turn down the offer of a lifetime.”

Her jaw dropped. “I’m not blind!”

But Yoonoh only shrugged, opening the door and waiting for her to step out. “Well,” he said when the door was shut, tucking his key back in his coat pocket and giving her a polite nod. “You do seem to be missing the opportunity sitting right under your nose.”

“You talk big.”

But Yoonoh only smirked, nodding slowly as he turned on his heel and sent his final words over his shoulder before stuffing his hands back into his pockets and heading away. “I left my humility behind years ago.”

taglist: @supernovapluto @commentgirl @jaehyunsjasmine @kyungsooislifeu @breens-nick @nctlover94 @painted-hills @thejungjaehyun @kodasity @ahtisa02 @cupid-yuno @jenopups

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doubleleoenergy · 3 years

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iv. Lolita, Lolita Series

Hey Lolita, hey! Hey Lolita, hey! I know what the boys want, I'm not gonna play.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: bestfriendsdad!Andy Barber x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of alcohol, mentions of relationship violence, oral (female receiving), pet names, dirty talk

Words: 2240

Summary: Andy’s falling at y/n’s feet, just like all the other boys before.

Six days. It had been six agonizing days since their encounter at the club, and Andy Barber was losing his cool. The nightly, and sometimes midday, jerkoff sessions weren’t quite enough to satisfy his hunger.

Things with y/n had been the same, as if their little blowjob fest hadn’t happened. They continued to carpool to the office, continued to be friendly back at home, and y/n continued to tease him as always. She’d wear her tight and barely there clothing around the house and the office and had even started walking around in her towel after her showers. Andy didn’t mind the view, and neither did the boys, stuttering and stammering at the sight of her. But again, it wasn’t enough.

That morning y/n greeted him with another breakfast and coffee before work, donning a black long sleeve crop top with a slit across to give him the view of just a bit of cleavage. Her light denim jeans were practically painted on her body, her perky ass bouncing with each step in her black strappy heels.

“You look good, y/n. As always.” Andy commented, taking a sip of his coffee. He thought a bit of flirting might help his case of getting closer to his little Lolita, though she didn’t seem phased by the compliment.

“Thanks Andy, we should get going. I’m shadowing you with your clients today, remember?” Her internship had been stellar, learning valuable information about the field and her future career. The only problem occasionally was Neal, who tended to linger too long at her desk and always stared down her shirt as he talked. Normally she would put the man in her place, but it offered a good source of jealousy from Andy, which she couldn’t pass up.

Their ride to the office was filled with conversation as Andy briefed her on their clients for the day, y/n taking notes in her notebook of all the critical details. Though she probably wouldn’t need the notes, she had read over the client’s files for the past two days in anticipation.

Y/N sashayed down the hall in front of Andy to his office, and he watched her ass the entire time she moved, trying not to pop a boner before the workday even started. After arriving at the office door and unlocking it, the two got comfortable for their first client of the day.

“Are you nervous?” Andy questioned, eyes focusing intently on her.

“Of course not. I’m just eager to please.” Her tone was heavy with seduction, lips curving into a huge smile when Andy shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

By the time they had finished up with their clients for the day it was nine o’clock, a much later day at the office for them since y/n had started her internship. The two were both starving since lunch, stomachs growling as they headed home for the evening.

“Jacob said he and the boys are going to see a midnight movie showing after the bar, won’t be back till late.” Y/N announced, fingers typing out a quick reply to Jacob.

“Alright, are you interested in going out for some food? I think it’s way too late to start cooking something. We can go to that Mexican restaurant up the street from the house if you want.” Andy suggested, glancing over at y/n as he parked the car in the driveway.

“That’s fine, let me go change really quick and then we can go.” Y/N walked straight through the garage doors and up into her room, getting herself refreshed for dinner. Andy decided to change as well, pulling on a pair of dark denim jeans and a grey Henley long-sleeved shirt that accentuated his muscles. He was honestly hoping that y/n might consider this a date but given how she seemed to avoid any movement in their relationship, it seemed unlikely.

Andy scrolled through his email on his cell phone, leaning against the kitchen counter as she walked down the stairs. His eyes met hers before traveling down to the tight burgundy floral mini dress, the thin spaghetti straps barely holding in her braless breasts as they poked out slightly above the fabric. Andy’s eyes continued lower to the slit in the dress, staring at where the slit hit mid-thigh and ended right at her hip bone. Was she not wearing any underwear?

“Okay, I’m ready.” Y/N’s black stilettos clicked against the hardwood as she made her way towards the door, headed towards his car once again. Andy trailed behind, his eyes roaming over her backside while his cock stirred in his jeans.

The restaurant was less than a mile from the house, a quick drive for them both, which was a relief considering how hungry they both were. The waitress came up shortly after they sat, a young perky blonde who seemed to be a little extra attentive to Andy, though he didn’t pay any attention to her. He was too busy watching y/n scanning the menu, chewing her bottom lip as she figured out what to eat.

“I’ll have a Coors Light and a southwest salad, please.” Y/N’s voice was soft as she spoke to the waitress.

“I’ll have a Coors as well with the street taco trio. Thank you.” Andy handed over their menus before returning his attention back to y/n. “Did you like sitting in on the meetings today?” He asked, leaning back in his seat.

“Definitely, it’s nice to fully see the process at work. Usually I’m filing the paperwork after a meeting, but today gave me the chance to start from the initial meeting to the filing.” The waitress arrived with their drinks as she finished her sentence, taking a long swig from her beer.

“I’m glad. We make a good team, don’t you think?” Andy had to admit, she was the most impressive intern they’d had since he started there. But the question isn’t just about work, hinting at the possibility of them together.

“We’re alright.” She responded, shrugging her shoulders. Andy sighed, six days of waiting to figure out anything between them was torture, just like the mind games she was playing with him now. His thoughts are briefly interrupted by the arrival of their meal, using the break in their conversation to consider his next words carefully. It was like he was building a case as he had done hundreds of times at work, though this case was a bit higher stake for him.

“Look, in the club I know I said we couldn’t do this...do us.” Good start, Andy-boy. “But we’re both adults as you said. It’s not weird, unless we make it weird, and if we keep things private for a while so as not to hurt Jacob...why don’t we give it a try? Us, I mean.”

Y/N chewed thoughtfully on her meal, listening to his case and reflecting on his words. “I’m not a relationship girl, you know that.” The thought of being in a committed relationship with anyone terrified her, a trigger from her family trauma. What happens if Andy is kind at first, but later turns into a monster like her father? Would she really want to end up like her mom? No thank you.

“I do know that, but I also know that there’s something between us, y/n. You can’t deny that. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have done what you had.” Andy retorted, taking a bite of his tacos.

“Everything I do is because I want to do it.” She declared, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest. “A relationship is different, Andy. Why tie yourself down to someone? It’s not like it ever lasts, you should know that firsthand.” She’s referring to his divorce, the thought that Andy even wanted to be committed to someone else after that was confusing.

“Maybe that’s true, or maybe we’re just waiting for the right person to change our minds.” He’s leaning on the table now, his eyes locked on hers to gauge her reactions.

Y/N’s eyebrow raises at his response, her head tilting to the side. “And you’re trying to say that I’m that right person?” Her eyes roll back into her head, straightening her body and digging back into her meal. “You’re thinking a little too highly after one hookup.”

Andy knows they’re going in circles with the conversation and so he drops it, finishing up their meals in silence and not protesting when y/n asks to split the bill. Definitely not a date.

The ride back to the house is uncomfortably silent, y/n playing Candy Crush on her phone to distract herself from any further talk about a relationship. Y/N is about to go up the stairs to her room when they arrive, but Andy stops her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back over to him.

“What are you doing?” She asks, brows furrowed as her eyes meet his blue hues. Andy tugs her closer by her waist in response to her question, lips hovering inches away.

“Think about it, we’d be good together, you can’t deny that.” And with that Andy is leaning in, pressing his lips passionately against y/n’s own. Without any hesitation y/n reciprocates the kiss, hands instinctively wrapping around his neck to pull him in closer, if that was even possible.

Their lips dance together in the perfect rhythm for a moment before Andy breaks the kiss to pepper wet kisses to the flesh on y/n’s neck. She rolls her head to one side to give him better access, tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck when he nibbles on a sensitive spot. She lets him continue for a moment before pushing him gently off her, confusing laced across his face.

Y/N’s heels click against the hardwood as she starts walking down the hallway towards his bedroom door, stopping right in front of it and looking back at Andy, a cocky grin spreading across her swollen lips.

“I think it’s time you return the favor from the other night.” And with that she slips into his bedroom, Andy following quickly on her heels and shutting the door behind them. He watches, eyes blown wide, as she saunters over to the bed, sitting right on the edge of it. She leans her body back, her weight against her elbows, opening her legs to reveal her bare core, her heels firmly placed on the floor in front of the bed for balance.

“Don’t just stand there and stare, Andy. Get to work.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, practically crawling across the room, his knees hitting the soft carpet a foot away from her outstretched legs. His strong hands move from her knees up her thighs, pushing her dress up to her stomach to reveal her wet heat to him.

It was glistening like diamonds, just as beautiful as the rest of her body. He rests his hands on each of her inner thighs, pushing her legs slightly wider and locking his eyes with hers as he leans forward and licks a strip up her slit. His first taste of her is incredible, better than he could’ve imagined, and he wastes no time on diving in further, lapping at her core.

Andy’s beard tickles her pussy as he works his tongue into her, sending shivers down her spine. Her fingers instinctively grab at his hair, her grip tightening whenever he lapped at a spot that made her moan. She kept her eyes on him the entire time, loving the way he looked between her legs. She could get used to this.

Andy moved his head back, his pointer and middle finger rubbing against her wet folds before they dive in, curling deep and releasing a satisfied moan from her lips. “Your pussy is so pretty, so wet and delicious. My little Lolita.” There goes the pet name from the other night, though it was quite fitting for her.

His fingers find a good rhythm inside her, eliciting the prettiest moans from her lips. His cock is painfully hard in his jeans, though he knows right now it is all about her pleasure. He can tell her orgasm is building, moving his face back to suck at her clit while his fingers keep their pace in and out of her dripping core.

Her walls start to tighten, y/n seeing stars as she feels that familiar buildup in her stomach, tightening her grip on his hair. Andy’s eyes lock back on hers, a seductive smirk spreading across his lips.

“Let go, Lolita. Cum for me.” And just like that her orgasm rips through her, her walls tightening around his fingers as she pushes his face flush against her folds, allowing him to lap up her release.

She’s shaking by the time he pulls away, his beard covered in her slick, the sight alone giving her a sense of pride and ownership over him.

“That was incredible.” Y/N announces, adjusting her dress and standing back up, stepping towards the door of the bedroom. Andy’s jaw drops, his cock twitching as she walks away. “Where are you going? I’m hard as a rock right now.”

Y/N stops to look at him, her eyes trailing to the bulge in his jeans, shrugging her shoulders. “Guess you’ll have to jerk off to your fantasies of me as always.” And with that she opens the door and exits the bedroom, leaving Andy kneeling with frustration against the carpet.

Tagging those who may be interested. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list: @midnightf @my-divine-death @saamwilsonn @fierylibraa @fuckandfluff @rattlemyb0nes @rootcrop @goldenboysteve @turtoix @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @ccmarvelxx

#doubleleoenergyseries: lolita #DLE Series: Lolita #andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber smut #andy barber x reader smut #andy barber x female reader

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petals42 · 4 years

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The Count (the old guard, joe/nicky)

okay, I have only two headcanons so far for The Old Guard and I was going to try to work them both into fic BUT just in case I don’t, here's one of them:

Joe and Nicky try to keep their death count even.

After hearing that they eventually can die, joe and nicky have an almost superstitious practice of trying to make sure that they die the same amount of times. Sometimes this means one literally throwing himself in front of the other so that they take the bullet and do the death. Sometimes it means purposefully lowering your weapon at a certain time. It always means keeping count of how many times you die. And how many times the other person dies. And comparing afterwards.

Sometimes they check in mid-battle, mid-situation; more often they wait until after. After the blood and the extraction and it’s usually when they are home and they aren’t embarrassed of it, not really, this obsessive counting and matching, but usually, usually, they wait until it is just the two of them again. Until they are somewhere soft and quiet and--

“Six,” Nicky says as he reaches under the hem of Joe’s shirt to help him pull it off. The action isn’t a prelude to anything, they are too tired for that, it’s just that Joe had been stabbed in the shoulder and though the wound isn’t there, even after a thousand years, Nicky still assumes that sometimes Joe must be sore from the injury.

It’s not a prelude, but he drops a kiss close to where he thinks the wound was anyway.

“Seven,” Joe replies, more a grunt than anything as he reaches for Nicky’s belt. Their clothes are clean, it’s been days since the raid, but it will be nice to get out of them anyway.

Nicky sighs to himself, more in annoyance than anything else. The sheets are clean and the floor is carpet; they’ll have to do this in the bathroom. And the bathroom is one of those modern all-white things and he’s not sure they have bleach on hand. If only pills and poison didn’t take so long and hurt so much.

“We could--” And there’s a hesitation that means Joe is going to argue against it; as he does sometimes. Only when it’s Nicky’s turn, of course; but Nicky shoots him a glare. They’ve had this argument before. He’s not having it again. Joe’s throat clicks as he swallows one word and spits out another “--go outside. Less clean up.”

“Then we’d have to put clothes on again,” Nicky replies. “And someone might see.” He steps out of his pants on the way, grabbing Joe’s gun from the bedside table. He moves quickly. He wants to get to bed.

He settles in the tub and blinks when Joe follows him. Then smiles. It’s something he loves about Joe; that he can still never quite tell when Joe is going to let Nicky handle it himself and when he is going to come watch him. It seems to be a 50-50 shot. Sometimes Joe can’t do it, can’t make himself hurt Nicky again, will only burst in after he hears the gunshot, while other times--

“I love you,” Joe says softly, taking the gun, and it’s in a language Nicky doesn’t need to identify because he knows those words in all of them. And then he’s lowering his head for a kiss and Nicky raises his chin and--

The shot hits him in the heart but he doesn’t feel the pain. Or if he does, he doesn’t remember.

What he remembers is Joe already wiping the blood from his chest with a warm towel as he wakes.

Usually they do it when they’re alone. It’s not peaceful, but it’s calm and they clean up and run hands over blessedly unbroken skin and hold each other and it’s superstitious and illogical and maybe it’s not even safe but it’s… it’s better than the alternative.

Of course, now with Nile around and Andy… Andy again, they are a team like they haven’t been for decades. There’s less and less splitting up after missions, more and more time spent sharing rooms or apartments and it’s not a secret, this thing they do, but it is private.

Until it isn’t.

It had been a hard mission. Hard because innocent people died and hard because even the people they were fighting against didn’t seem evil, because the desperation in their eyes was obvious and it was the right thing to do, maybe, but it felt hard. And it was hard because it was long. The intel they had wasn’t perfect and all four of them had died twice before even breaching the compound and Nicky had gotten cut off somehow and pinned down for almost twenty minutes before managing to fight his way out and even Andy had looked tired of it all before the end. It was a firefight that felt more like a battle, seventy two hours getting in, almost as many getting out and--

It was just hard. Nile let the others set up camp, opting to dig the latrine and daydreamed about getting back to some form of civilization where there was running water and a shower. Andy said she could have someone out to pick them up by tomorrow or the next day at the latest but Nile knows that just means more bumpy travel for a few hours. Or longer depending on who Andy gets to come out here.

She steps back towards the fire and sees that everyone must be feeling the same as her. Andy is half-heartedly chewing a granola bar, looking as if each bite has to be forced down, and Nicky is already asleep, passed out facing away from the fire so that Joe’s back will be warmed when he inevitably curls around him. Only Joe is still moving, adding to the pile of wood near the fire so it will be easy to keep going in the night and then opening a duffel to grab a blanket to drape over Nicky and then digging through another duffel to grab something else that he stuffs into the waistband of his pants and Nile has just enough time to assume to herself that it must be some sort of food before she is flopping into her own sleeping bag, eyes already sliding closed.

She sits up only to move a rock out from under her back and opens her mouth only to say goodnight.

That’s when she sees Joe lean down to press a kiss to Nicky’s temple, but instead of laying down next to him, he is rising and moving away from camp, away from the latrine, and she opens her mouth to tell him he’s going the wrong way.

“Let him go,” Andy says quietly. “He’ll be fine.”

Nile frowns at her, but her brain is a bit too fuzzy for questions. She mentally shrugs and curls up.

And shoots up as she hears the unmistakable sound of a gunshot nearby. Muffled by a silencer, obviously, faint enough that Nicky doesn’t stir, but it sounds like it came from the direction that Joe just went and she flings her arm out next to her to find her gun. Andy will be silently kicking Nicky awake and they’ll regret it, whichever idiot who managed to survive the compound and follow them here.

“Hey.” Andy’s whisper cuts through her panic nicely. Nile turns, ready to follow Andy’s lead. “Hey, it’s okay.” She is still sitting. She has not reached for a weapon. She is not waking up Nicky.

“What?” Nile says, keeping her voice low only so they don’t give away their position. “Andy that was a--”

“A gun, I know,” Andy says with a wry twist of her mouth. “It’s okay. No one’s coming to hurt us.”

“Joe’s out there!” Nile says, fighting to keep her voice low. Out there and if he’s shooting at something, that must mean-- “We have to go help him!”

“He’s not in danger,” Andy says. Nile tries not to sputter at her. Obviously he’s not in danger, he’s freaking immortal, they all are, but that doesn’t mean they should just let him fight this battle alone. That’s not how--

Another shot has her kicking her feet out from her sleeping bag. This one is even fainter as if Joe is moving away from them. Enough is enough. She doesn’t know what Andy is playing at but this is ridiculous.

“Don’t,” Andy says sharply and then sighs. “He’s-- they-- him and Nicky, they-- They have this thing.”

Nile stops moving. If only because Andy sounds the particular brand of annoyed and exhausted and regretful that means she is about to actually give up a secret.

“What?” Nile says when Andy’s silence lengthens.

“They try to stay even,” Andy finally replies. She looks at Nile as if Nile is supposed to know what that means. Nile’s face must ask the question for her. “With their… deaths. They try to make sure they have the same number so that if…”

She fades out. Nile’s brain finally catches on. So that if their final death is no more than a numbers game, they will be together.

“That’s…” Nile doesn’t realize she starts the sentence aloud and then doesn’t know how to finish it. Insane? Stupid? Romantic? Not how that works? How does she know how any of it works anyway, maybe that is how it works, maybe it is just some number that you hit and-- but, fuck, what if it’s not a number and it’s just random and Joe kills himself out there.

“It’s what they do,” Andy says. Only the tightness around her eyes reveals her true feelings. “They won’t stop.”

Nile blinks. It… she… Nicky had been pinned down today for almost twenty minutes. Who knows…

Another shot rings through the clearing.

Nile flinches.

“Go to sleep,” Andy tells her. “I’ll stay up.”

It’s an order and Nile lays back down for lack of anything better to do.

But she doesn’t fall asleep. She lies awake and she waits and counts as eight gunshots crack through the night.

Nicky is furious the next day. More angry than Nile’s ever seen him and Andy says nothing, but she gives the two men a wide berth, sending first herself ahead as a scout and than Nile head as a second scout and--

“That’s not how we do things,” Nicky hisses as both women fade into the trees. He comes to a stop and turns to face Joe fully for the first time since this morning. Since he had woken to see the silencer still attached to Joe’s gun and felt the tacky blood still plastered to the back of his head and realized what Joe had done last night. “How could you--”

He looks away from Joe then. Looks away and unbidden, his mind plays it out. If Joe had permanently died and Nicky wasn’t there. He would’ve woken up alone, back cold despite the fire, and no one would have known where to look at first, but they would have followed his tracks easily enough and he would have run only to see Joe’s body, already cold and damaged and--

He shudders. And then flinches as Joe’s hand reaches for his face.

For the first time in many years, Nicky slaps it away.

“I can’t believe you would do that to me,” he says and his eyes are filled with tears that he tries to stop from falling. It would be one thing for it to happen in battle, another if this theory of theirs was wrong, if it resulted in something horrific, but to not be there.

To not be there would be worse than death itself.

And Joe knows that. And the fact that he still-- he still-- Nicky doesn’t know what his face does. Doesn’t know how to continue.

“That is not how we do this.”

“I know,” Joe says. “I know, Nicky, I’m so-- I’m sorry. I just--”

He takes a breath then and it’s his turn to glance away. “You were gone so long where I couldn’t see you. And I couldn’t get to you. And I--”

His throat closes and Nicky opens his mouth to tell Joe that that is exactly what Joe had done to him, worse because he was not in battle, he was sleeping and unaware, but Joe looks back at him in that moment and his eyes are red and his voice is raw and desperate.

“I had to know the count was right, Nicolo.” It’s their old blench of Italian and Arabic; the language they created together at the beginning. “I had to make them match before I could sleep in case we were attacked in the night or something in you was still healing. Or not healing. You fell asleep so fast, and so easily, and you had been gone so long that I- I-”

He stops that and his hand makes an aborted motion towards Nicky’s face again before dropping to his side. “I’m sorry, my love. Truely.”

His eyes flick to the ground and then to Nicky’s face and Nicky is angry enough still to make him wait for one heartbeat, two, and then--

He grabs Joe’s face with both his hands, a touch too firmly to be called gentle.

“Never again, Yusuf.” Joe’s hands lift to curl around Nicky’s wrists and press them more firmly together. “You will not do that to me again.”

“I-” Joe starts and maybe he was going to say “I won’t” or maybe “I promise” or maybe the sound wasn’t I- at all but Nicky doesn’t give him the chance. He presses their mouths together and pours his anger into that, and his hurt too and desperation and fear and love and he knows Joe won’t do it again. Knows because Joe is kissing him the same way.

His left hand drops to Joe’s shoulders to pull him closer, ever closer, and his right trails to where he can feel the blood on the back of Joe’s head and it’s blood, but it’s dried, dried and the skull is whole and they are both wonderfully, wonderfully alive and for now, that is enough.

They will handle the rest of it together.

#the old guard #joe x nicky #nicky/joe #the old guard fanfiction #well its half headcanon half fic #a petals classic #also its 2k #i thought it was going to be approximately 15 sentences when i started #ALSO A PETALS CLASSIC #my fic #tog

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fraidy-farfelle · 3 years

Text

This is my attempt at the Fluff ABCs for Frankie the Undead. Please be gentle with criticism because I cry easily. I’ve taken some ideas from @lovestruck-lasagna.

Taglist: @writingfromthetomb @beebubb

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

Your dry sense of humor. It perfectly matches his insults and he doesn’t have to go out of his way to make you laugh. He just says what he’s thinking and you laugh and agree.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Frankie appreciates a good smile, and for many reasons. He learned to read smiles (fake vs real) early on and uses it to gauge people, so he pays particular attention by default. He’s a sucker for cute dimples, and loves the way your nose scrunches and your eyes close.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

He loves late at night when you share the couch and he can read a good book, sip on some whiskey, or puff on a cigar. He really doesn’t care what you’re doing, he can tune out the TV or you prattling on about your day and make comments to show he’s listening. Put your feet in his lap, lay on top of him, make yourselves mummies in blankets, so long as he can reach his glass he doesn’t care. He just wants to be with you.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

Stay in date nights are his favorite. He doesn’t really like to “share” your attention. He likes to either cook a meal together or order takeout and watch a movie. Particularly black and white gangster ones, or older horror films. Likes to tease you if you get scared and grab onto him. He’ll pat your head and say something like “oh there there, don’t be scared! I won’t let the big, bad monster getcha!” (Like your neighbor isn’t a 7 ft tall children murdering clown demon) If you go out, he prefers less crowded places outdoors.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

He’s a spitfire and he knows it. He tends to explode and then after a few minutes apologizes gruffly and explains himself. “WHY WERE YA OUT UNTIL MIDNIGHT, THATS SUCH A STUPID THING TO DO!” “Sorry, Frankie.” “…… ugh just, please get home earlier from now on. It’s dangerous and I worry about you.” Definitely doesn’t hug you close so you don’t see the relief and worry on his face. Nope!

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

He misses Amy desperately. He wants a little girl in his life again, although he’ll never ever admit it. He’s hesitant to make relationships because he doesn’t want to be hurt again. But, if you go out with him to the living world, you’ll catch him staring longingly at parents and daughters when he thinks you’re not looking. If you ask him what he’s looking at, he’ll shake his head and spit out a line about children being obnoxious but you can tell he’s blowing smoke.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

If the underworld wasn’t so dangerous, he’d love to drape you in the finest silks with diamonds and rubies dripping off of you. However he doesn’t want you to draw any unnecessary attention to yourself. So, he settles for things you don’t really see in public. He also doesn’t like to be found out about it. Your gas tank is filled, the bill you were worried about has mysteriously been paid, your favorite ice cream is in your freezer when you know you ate the last of it yesterday, and hey, didn’t you spend this $20? Why is it in your wallet? If you ever bring it up he’ll just shrug and say “How strange!”

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

He’s torn about PDA because he doesn’t want you to become a target because you’re associated with him, and people stare at him enough because of his appearance. But on the other hand, he wants to show the world that someone as worthless as him (don’t say that we love you Frankie) has such an amazing person that loves him. Will absolutely grab you and passionately make out with you with one hand on your ass and the other flipping the bird to the cheeky bastard that told the broad beside him to watch out for the zombie.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Panic. Sheer panic. He’s so afraid to lose you, any injury is serious and cause for alarm.

Frankie:*bursting into a hospital lobby, screaming to be taken to f/n l/n immediately**running in the opposite direction the nurse pointed in panic**bursts into exam room 30 seconds later* “Y/N!!!!! I came as soon as I got the message, WHATS WRONG!!!”

You: *sitting on the table, reading phone* “Oh, I have a sprained ankle and they don’t want me to drive so can you give me a ride?”

Frankie:*slowly blinking* “Uh, yeah no problem…”

You: “lemme guess, you heard my name and hospital in the same sentence and ignored everything else.”

Frankie:*hanging his head* “go wait in the car, I’ll go apologize….”

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

Not actual jokes, but he loves to sit with you and insult people. He’s an incredibly sweet person to you, but no one else. (Except service people, like nurses and waitresses. Just the general public) he doesn’t think pranks are funny or practical, which is one of the many reasons he and LJ butt heads. If LJ or Will prank you or him, he’s raising hell.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

Love kissing your lips. He’s actually really self conscious about his mouth stitches and constantly frets they feel weird to you. Neck kisses are another favorite and are extremely private to him. He also likes to hold the back of your hand against his lips and tell you what he’s thinking, no matter how mundane. Kiss his stitches. Please. Just do it.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

He has trouble saying it to your face. He’ll whisper it to you when he thinks you’re sleeping, and he’s been known to leave little notes around for you to find. He thinks protecting you is the best way to show he cares.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

The day you finally broke down and told him you loved him. He knew as soon as he looked into your eyes and saw your smile his goose was cooked. He was very abrasive and hoping against hope that you’d leave him be. He knew you deserved better. He was so afraid to build a relationship and love again, he wanted to distance himself and if he was an asshole to you, it would be justified and you’d do it on your own. What he didn’t expect is for you to be so kind to him. Upon your initial meeting, he had been a little harsh, but helped you (if there’s enough interest I’ll do a fic about it) and so when he subsequently was a jerk to you, you were curious and determined to find out what he was hiding. He finally had been mean enough to make you cry. He had never regretted something he did before. He immediately wanted to cradle you to him and beg your forgiveness. Normally when he insulted you, you’d have a snarky retort in reply. But not this time. You fell to your knees and clung to his legs and demanded to know why he treated you so poorly and proclaimed your love for him. It was probably by accident and you were so distraught you didn’t even know it flew from your mouth, but hearing it, he couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t care about the consequences, he just wanted you. Hearing that you loved someone like him made him so happy, he knew he’d treasure the memory forever

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

Losing you. Period.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

What ISNT odd about this man?! A cute one is he always winks with his green eye.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

I HC that he was born in the 30’s, so he calls you “doll” a lot but only in private. He uses your name otherwise so it’s not as obvious to people watching you’re together. He will absolutely refer to you as “the dame” to others. The equivalent of “the boss” or “old lady.” “William! The Dame is trying to take a nap, so shut up or I’ll shoot you!” You call him stitches to tease him in private and are the only person allowed to do so.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?) Either taking naps or couch potato time. Also, low key likes to cook with you. He can’t cook for shit, but likes to “help” by handing you things or chopping things for you. Is a super good taste tester, self appointed.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

Stitches by Shawn Mendez (PLEASE DONT HURT ME!!)

We don’t have to Dance by Andy Black (referring to how he can’t really show you affection in public but he loves you)

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

He’s open about himself and what he’s thinking, and will always take what you say into consideration. He doesn’t like to keep things from you, but he does omit some detail about his jobs if you ask about them. He just feels like you don’t need to be stressed about it.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

LJ picked up on Frankie’s fondness of you almost instantly. He and Will decided to do what they could to get you together in the interest of making Frankie less of a grouch. If it hadn’t been for them insisting that he was good guy to you, you probably WOULD have let Frankie’s prickly nature drive you away. It took a year or so for you to break down.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?) A powder keg of insults, foul language, and bullets. Has actually never called you a name outright, and would absolutely never physically hurt you. When he was deliberately being rude to you, he’d insult your actions rather than you. “Stop acting like a dumb broad!” Vs calling you a bitch to your face. He usually calms down quickly, and is hardly ever angry at you, only when you put yourself in danger.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

He likes that he’s scary and tough looking so that when you’re with him, other men scatter pretty fast. Has had many occasions where he stepped away and someone came to flirt with you and he came back and had the pleasure of scaring them.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

You are not allowed to do anything dangerous, ever! Will teach you how to use a gun and how to counter things like chokeholds, so you’re less vulnerable. Will absolutely lose his mind if he learns you’ve put yourself at risk. He will shoot someone so fast for you. Takes every person as a threat to you and will pick fights with somebody that accidentally bumped into you. Do NOT test this man.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

You are an open book to him. He’s learned to read people well, and he takes his time studying you. Can tell if you’re getting sick before you can. More than once he’s handed you a bottle of Tylenol, leaving you bewildered, and shrugged and said to take them because you’ll have a headache in a few minutes. He can pick up on your emotions easily and has learned what to do to handle them.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

Honestly, marriage isn’t that important to him. He’s not opposed to the idea at all, but like you’ve been together for this long, you love each other, is it really necessary? You’d have to tell him you want to be officially married. He’ll buy you a ring, to show that you’re taken, if nothing else, but he’ll wear his around his neck under his tie so it’s not obvious he’s attached to anyone to discourage his rivals using you to get to him.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

The smell of your perfume. Holding you in his arms and taking deep breaths makes all of his troubles go away.

#frankie the undead #frankie creeps #creepypasta

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babyjakes · 1 month

Note

Hi, um… can I leave a message for Mr. Barber? I’ve been having trouble regressing and I think somethings wrong with me - do you think you could help?

Can I have the🐠? Don’t think I saw that one.

Hi there little one, thank you for sending in your message. Difficulties with regression can oftentimes be completely normal and nothing to worry about, though I know they can be unpleasant and worrying to experience. Why don't you schedule a session or two with me- I'm sure we can work together and get to the bottom of whatever's making it hard for you to regress. After our first meeting, I may decide that you need further assessment by one of the clinic leads, but we can take things one step at a time 😊

I look forward to seeing you soon!

— Andy Barber, RS

#private practice #private practice's voicemail box #private practice!andy replies #🐠 anon

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slygirl666 · 3 years

Text

Minor details

this was a request with the prompt of slytherin!reader x Fred with the whole robe switching situation where Slytherin reader shows up acedently shows up wearing gryffidor robes after a night with Fred and her friends question her. I accidentally replied privately to her I apologize.

So I mention In warning it does have a touch of slut shaming I do want to make it clear I personally don’t agree with putting another girl down due to thier sexual history and I hope you don’t either

warnings: language, mentions of sex, bulling specifically gets a bit slut shamish, unedited

words:1,236

* * *

“Y/N?”

Fred Weasley, of course, the two of you went through this pattern of winding each other up just to end up between the sheets hours later. Usually on weekends though, you had a strict no school day policy. Between his quidditch practice and your constant need to please your teachers, it just made sense. You weren’t dating but neither of you were seeing other people.

“Yes Weasley?” you put on the face you gave him when your friends are around. the other Slytherin girl with you glared at him with a scoff. “Andy, it’s fine.”

“Well i was taking a stroll by the black lake and wanted to know if you’d fancy a swim?”

“And why would I wan-” you screamed as you were thrown over his shoulders. You hit his back hard. As he ran from where you were walking with your friends to the Lakeshore. When you hit the cold water you weren’t surprised but fairly angry.

You heard Andy yelling curses as you surfaced from the water, Fred was joined by George and both were laughing.

It was cold and the white button down, now soaked did nothing to hide the black bra you were sorting today. You watch Fred stop almost instantly when you surfaced, his face morphed into something else, something darker. It was lust you’ve seen him make the exact same face almost every weekend.

Andy came to you bringing you your discarded robes and your bag as she glared at the twins, you turned to Fred mouthing ‘Library,’ earning you a signature Fred Weasley smirk.

An hour later, you were being pulled through a secret passageway through the library. Clumsily making out with Fred, walking towards the halfway that the two of you knew hosted the room of requirement.

* * *

Waking up with no clothes on wrapped around Fred Weasley was nothing new, what’s new is that you realized it was wednesday morning, reaching for your watch it was eight thirty am. Breakfast was just about to finish up.

“Shit,” you attempted to wiggle out of Fred’s strong grasp. But he just groaned and held on tighter. “Weasley! Wake up!”

Classes were about to begin, you wiggled until his grasp let up, jumping around to find your clothes. You felt kind of disgusting wearing the same clothes, your skin smelling like sweat and the cinnamon cologne Fred favored. You found your stockings ripped.

“Well that's great.” you sighed picking up the first robe you found closest to your stuff before running out.

You ran into potions.

“Miss L/N, is there a reason you are late?” Snape glared at you, three minutes but you were usually so punctual.

“Yes sir, but unless you want the entire sixth year to know about my menstrual cycle i’d like to hont the details.” his eyes went wide as he continued to teach.

“Where the fuck were you last night?” Andy hissed, “don't you dare say the infirmary, I checked.”

“I’ll tell you later you moved to take notes,” feeling a sudden chill in the air you reached for your robe and moved to put it on, not taking your eyes off Snape.

There was a gasp next to you, you gave Andy a weird look, but when you moved to take notes you noticed the sleeves were over your hand.

Of course, just how lucky you are. You slid a note to Andy saying you’ll explain. When snape dismissed you Andy waited for you, impatient moving her braids.

“Okay so what the hell? I knew you were screwing someone but a Gryffondoor? Really Y/N?”

“Yes okay, sorry I didn't tell you but I knew how you would react and-”

“Who is it?”

“I'm not going to tell you,” you stated firmly.

So that was how Andy began her guessing game.

Herbology.

“Lee Jordan?”

“No.”

Outside of DADA.

“Did you go younger? Is it potter?”

“Absolutely not!”

You noticed Fred, who just ditched potions in his own robes looking rather smug as he overheard you two.

Muggle studies.

“Mclaggen?”

“No.”

And at lunch she rapidly fired a few names you didn't even recognize.

“Was it a weasley?”

“N-no!”

“That was way too defensive, witch one?” by this time a few other girls in your year had heard what happened and we’re completely invested.

“Was it Ron?”

“Ew stop suggesting fifteen year olds! I’m not telling you who I'm shagging!” you yelled at your friends. You now got the attention of everyone in the great hall. You ran out.

And then rumors began, some people were saying you had a thresome with the twins, others say you shagged everyone from Gryffindor that was above the age of fifteen.

You had asked to be excused from your classes after lunch staying in the hospital wing.

Fred had heard everything people were saying about you, his blood was boiling. Untrue rumors of people claiming they slept with you during weekends, and comments about your body that just made him sick.

He tried to find you, unsuccessfully. He even snuck into the slytherin dorms leaving a note under your pillow. Apologizing.

You were exhausted by the time you made it to your own room, not noticing the slip of parchment falling from under your pillow to your floor.

* * *

You avoided Andy at breakfast sitting towards the end of the table where the younger students usually sat. you heard the whispers and saw the disgusted looks. You had no appetite. You resisted the urge to cry, they couldn’t know you were bothered.

You went through potions and Herbology as peacefully as you could not getting involved in what people would say, Andy tried to talk to you but you couldn’t handle it.

You weaved through a busy hall weaving through students when you heard “Y/N! Y/N stop!”

Fred you stopped turning around. You cursed your inability to ignore the boy.

People were now watching carefully. “Well you forgot something yesterday.”

“Fred not-” he pulled out your neatly folded robes and handed them to you.

“You left in a bit of a hurry, love,” he smiled. “Didn't give me a kiss goodbye.”

Before you could question or yell at him he leaned down to your height for what you assumed would be a short kiss.

But instead he gave your audience a show, placing a hand in your hair before one when under your robe, no one could see but he did grab your bum. He took your response to deepen the kiss. You couldn't tell if it had been three seconds or minutes before the two of you split apart.

Students that weren’t in shock whistled and howled.

“Oi, you losers that's my girlfriend,” Fred puffed his chest pulling you into his side.

“Girlfriend? I don’t remember agreeing to that.” you smiled at him. “I mean if you insist I could think it over…”

“I just thought, i mean we’ve talked about it.” Fred fumbled with his words as you giggled, sure the boy had an ego but shy Fred made your heart flutter. “If you don’t want to I understand, bu I do like you more than a-”

“Fred, I'm joking,” you giggled, reaching your arms around his neck.

“You brat, you’ll pay for that later.” he whispered before letting go of you walking hand in hand to DADA.

What the two of you didn’t see was Andy reluctantly handing George four Gallions,

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #harry potter fan fiction #Harry Potter #hp fanfic #hp #weasley twins #weasley twins fanfic #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n

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angstyaches · 3 years

Text

I’ve Been Away Pt. 2

Part One

CW: anxiety, nausea, indigestion, hospital/nursing home setting, past death mention, degenerative illness, memory loss (dementia), loss of sight, family drama/issues very vaguely implied.

AN: I’ve been sitting on this for so long that everything is now obvious to me, and I’m sorry if it’s a lot more vague/confusing than I think it is. Hopefully Part Three will clear things up if so.

___

“Are you gonna go in?” Shayne asked quietly.

Felix swallowed thickly as the silence broke. He hadn’t even realised Shayne had woken up; he’d been sleeping since about thirty minutes after they’d left, and now it was four hours later.

“I am,” Felix said, trying to sound firm despite the queasy tremble in his voice. He stared out the windscreen at the pale orange building that ran in a semi-circle around the car park. The paint job looked fresh and clean, and the whole scene – even the car park – radiated a silence that reminded Felix of a graveyard. Even the pale blossoms that sprung from the bushes lining the pavement made him think of funeral flowers. He’d seen pictures of the place online, but actually being here felt… strange.

It was like he was stepping into a life that wasn’t his anymore.

He cringed at the sudden wrenching sensation in his gut. His stomach gave a low grumble as it shifted. He swallowed yet again, gently bringing the back of his hand to his mouth and stifling a weak burp that had crept up. He’d picked up indigestion tablets when he’d stopped to get petrol, but the chalky chunks hadn’t worked too effectively against the rising tide of stress in his belly.

“Did we drive here in silence just to sit here in more silence?”

Felix frowned at that. “We only drove in silence because you fell asleep.”

“Yeah, for about an hour.”

“You were awake for two hours and you didn’t say anything? You didn’t even ask where we were going.”

Shayne gave a lazy shrug. “Didn’t seem like you wanted to talk about it.”

Another uneasy belch rumbled in Felix’s belly. His shoulders moved forward slightly as it slipped up his throat. “Ugh. I really don’t feel well.”

Shayne gestured towards the main building. “I’m sure they’ve got a shit tonne of doctors inside. Wait, are we here to ask about checking Elliott in? He told me the other day that he’s almost seventy in human years, so it’s good that you’re thinking about where to stick him next.”

Felix sighed deeply, wishing he had the energy to deal with the joke, but the thought of Elliott only made his stomach and chest burn even more. He wanted this to be over. He wanted to go home and see his partner.

“Okay,” he said, tightening his grip on the steering wheel and inhaling deeply. “Wish me luck, buddy. I’m going in.”

“Okay, bye, then.”

By the time the long breath was released from Felix’s lungs, his hands hadn’t left the steering wheel of the parked car.

“You’re still sitting there,” Shayne mumbled in a sing-song voice.

“Yes, I’m aware,” Felix replied, sticking a thumb nail between his teeth and biting down on it. He wondered with a shiver of fresh anxiety if he was actually thirsty; should he have packed one of his lollipops to tide him over? Was it even safe for him to go, unescorted, into a building where there were likely needles and blood bags and other such contraptions? Had he really done such a bad job of thinking this through?

Had coming here been a complete mistake?

“Felix…”

“Yes, I know, I’m going,” Felix insisted quietly, an uncertain hand rubbing at his belly.

“Jesus, are you okay, or what’s going on?”

“I’m fine, I’ve just got… a tad of stupid indigestion.” A slight flush of heat rose to Felix’s cheeks as he felt his stomach gurgle under his hand. “Happens when I’m nervous.”

Shayne clicked his tongue and reached across to undo his seatbelt. “God, if you’re this fucking worked up, what if I go inside with you?”

Felix raised his eyebrows. “Would you really?” he gushed softly.

“Please don’t make this weird and emotional.”

“I always knew you loved me, cuz.”

“Aw. It’s like you think I won’t punch you in the throat.”

___

At least Felix couldn’t have said that the place smelled like death; there was quite a pleasant, disinfectant smell from the moment they stepped through the doors. Well, maybe not pleasant, but it was at least reassuring. The floors were old – beige linoleum from the 90s, it seemed – but they glistened, all the way from the reception desk to the open-plan recreational space at the far side of the lobby. Felix could see at least six figures seated in armchairs, one of them being attended by a nurse while another was shaking a walking stick in the direction of a flat-screen TV.

He swallowed, blinking in surprise when he turned his head and someone had spotted them. Another nurse, a bit older than the one across the room.

“Hi!” the young nurse chirped, glancing at Shayne first, and then at Felix. “Are you here visiting someone?”

Felix’s grip on his documents and newspaper clippings tightened. He wished he’d put them in a folder instead of carrying it all around so conspicuously. His jaw was heavy and his throat was clenched. Yes, he thought, willing his lips to move. How had he forgotten how to form the word yes?!

“Yeah, we are,” Shayne piped up, his voice slightly higher to mimic the tone of the nurse’s.

“Great, what’s the name?”

This time, Felix knew he couldn’t cop out of giving an answer. Shayne could have been the most helpful person in the world, but he wasn’t a mind reader. Felix cleared his throat, swallowing a burning belch before it could burst out of his mouth. “Patri- Patricia Bramley.”

The nurse pursed their lips as they referred to a clipboard on the desk in front of them.

Felix swallowed, fidgeting with the zipper on his jacket. “Trish,” he mumbled.

“Ah, Trish,” the nurse repeated with an air of recognition.

There was a beat of silence that Felix’s mind filled in with disturbing readiness; he braced himself for a look of discomfort or despair to cross the nurse’s face, and for them to gently explain that Trish had been dead for years; that she had wept every night out of loneliness until the loneliness ate so deeply into her heart that it gave out, and that whoever was responsible should –

“She’s actually in her room right now,” the nurse said, an easy smile crossing their face. “She might be sleeping, but if she’s awake, she’ll be very happy to see some visitors. Is one of you Avery, by any chance?”

The nurse’s gaze was more focused on Shayne as the question was asked, and Shayne quickly responded, “Uh, no.”

A panicked laugh burst past Felix’s lips, causing the nurse to throw him a confused look.

“Nephews, we’re – we’re Trish’s nephews,” he said, hoping his voice wasn’t as shaky as he sounded. “I’m Felix, and this is Shayne.”

“Alright, well, come this way,” the nurse instructed, guiding them towards a hallway to the west of the communal area.

Felix glanced towards the gathering of recliner armchairs and end tables, momentarily drinking in the sound of daytime TV and murmured conversation, before his chest tightened all over again. There was a shakiness in his bones and an empty longing in the pit of his stomach, and he realised he was missing Elliott. All of this could have been so much easier if he’d had Elliott’s hand to hold onto, Elliott’s calming voice to reassure him, Elliott’s easy smile to turn to.

“I can’t remember the last time Trish had a visitor, so this is exciting! She’s going to be delighted. Do you live far away, or..?”

“Mmm, something like that,” Shayne was telling the nurse, meeting Felix’s gaze as he looked forward again. His eyebrows were pulled together, question marks basically jumping out the top of his head. Felix gave a nervous smile that he was sure looked more like a queasy grimace, because he sure was feeling queasy, and the smell of disinfectant was suddenly not helping.

The nurse slowed by a private bedroom, peering around the door. “Here we go – ah, looks like she’s awake after all! Afternoon, Trish!”

Felix’s stomach pretty much hit the floor as he stepped into the room after Shayne and the nurse. The disinfectant smell vanished, talcum powder and the smell of roses swamping the air instead. She had always loved roses and had filled the house with them and doused herself with rose perfumes. Felix could practically hear her singing something in a soft, low voice as he inhaled, though his memory hadn’t held onto any words of the song.

Sunlight trailed gently through a netted curtain, warming the magnolia walls. A knitted purple blanket was thrown across her lower body as she cradled something to her chest with both hands, something that Felix couldn’t quite see. All he could tell was that they had cut her hair. She had always said she wanted to keep her hair long, even into her old age. She’d always been braiding it and twirling it between her fingers. He almost let himself get angry about it, before he realised that no one had been there to tell them to do otherwise – not even him.

“Trish? Your nephews are here to see you,” the nurse exclaimed happily. “Why don’t we sit you up, so you can have a chat?”

“Who – who is that?” the woman whimpered, reaching out a hand, which the nurse promptly took.

“It’s Andy, Mrs. Bramley,” the nurse replied, speaking a little more firmly this time. “I’m here with two of your nephews, isn’t that nice?”

The numbness began to spread out from Felix’s chest as the nurse adjusted the hospital bed so that the silver-haired woman was almost upright without the danger of slumping forward. Soft eyes that had once held such warmth and recognition were unfocused and foggy, never landing anywhere for longer than a few seconds.

She can’t see.

Just how long had he been away?

Shayne backed up a couple of steps, briefly meeting Felix’s panicked gaze, and then swept a hand through the air to beckon him further into the room.

“I-I –” Felix’s stomach flipped as he shook his head, pushing another bubble of acidic air towards his throat. “Shayne, I can’t – I-I don’t think I can do this.”

“Nephews?” the woman mumbled.

“Yeah, your nephews…” Nurse Andy looked at Shayne, beckoning him to the other side of the bed. “Felix and – Shayne, was it?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s me,” Shayne said, awkwardly letting himself be guided into a stiff plastic chair.

Felix lingered by the opposite wall, smiling weakly at the nurse as they glanced over at him.

“Shayne and Felix are here,” Andy repeated for the sake of Patricia’s hearing. “They’re gonna talk to you for a little while, okay? And I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes with your lunch.”

“Ah…” Patricia nodded slowly, a nervous twitch of a smile crossing her face. “Oliver will want steak for his lunch. But don’t let him near the whisky cabinet until the sun goes down.”

Andy shot Shayne and Felix a smile that said good luck, and left.

There was dead silence for what felt like the longest time, in which the woman turned her head to look in the direction the window. Felix could barely see her face now.

Shayne sat forward in the armchair, elbows resting on his knees. Felix felt his gaze land on him briefly before he stared at the floor. “Are you okay?”

Felix opened his mouth to answer, but Patricia answered first. Shayne’s head shot up at the sound of her voice, his eyes wide.

“Oh, I’m quite fine, sweetheart,” she replied, tilting her head in Shayne’s direction. “You can tell your father I’m quite alright.”

Shayne made brief eye contact with Felix again, before a wandering hand caught his attention. He seemed to automatically reach up to let it rest against his own palm, and the woman tightened her grip around it.

“I’m…” Shayne shifted in the chair and cleared his throat. “Patricia, I’m not – I’m not your son.”

“Oh, my son…” Patricia gave a low chuckle. “Are you friends with Avery?”

Felix felt his hair stand on end, bristling with a cold that just wasn’t there. He expected another look from Shayne, but he didn’t get one.

“Avery?” Shayne’s voice was surprisingly soft. He continued letting her hold his hand, which Felix found surprising.

A pinch of anxiety made Felix’s skin bristle. He shook his head in denial, thinking maybe he could shake the name out of his head; he hadn’t heard it in so long, and it felt like it would have dragged a gasp out of him, if he could bring himself to breathe at all. He looked down and rearranged his feet on the spotless linoleum floor. The nerves were a permanent tingling knot in the pit of his belly, a sour taste in the back of his throat that he couldn’t get rid of. Tears burned his eyes and throat, the kind that he knew would overwhelm him for hours if he let them fall.

“That’s a… nice name,” Shayne was saying.

“No,” Patricia mumbled, shaking her head with curious ambition. “My baby was never Avery, not for a single… Oh, I have to – have to pick him up at two o’clock. Have to – have to wash Avery’s hands, Avery’s little hands… Oliver hates mess. Hates it in the house.”

“Shayne,” Felix whispered, taking a step backwards, towards the door.

Shayne looked up. “What?” he hissed.

“I think we – we should – we should go,” Felix whimpered. He was starting to feel very, very ill, now that he was able to put a face, a voice, a set of memories, to the sketch outline he’d kept in his head. These were names and things he hadn’t let himself even think about for thirteen years. He’d put all of this in a box – in a coffin, more or less – and had never intended on opening it.

He lifted the back of his hand and turned his head to let out a couple of deep, anxious belches, trying his best to keep his eyes from watering.

“Hey, Trish?” Shayne said, starting to get up from the chair. “I have to go to the bathroom, but my friend’s going to keep talking to you. Right?”

“Wh-what?” Felix stammered. His heart leapt as Shayne nodded to the chair, beckoning for Felix to come around the bed and take his seat. Bitter acid licked the back of his throat.

“Yeah, come on, sit down,” Shayne said loudly, using that same breezy voice he’d put on when he’d spoken to Nurse Andy. It seemed to prick up Patricia’s ears and hold her attention, because she turned her head slightly, as though searching for

Felix’s hands shook as he laid his documents down on the bedside locker and then shuffled around the end of the bed. He let his weight sit at the very edge of the seat, legs too twitchy with nervous energy to sit all the way back. He glanced up as he sensed Shayne moving away.

He gently grabbed onto the dark-haired boy’s arm.

“Shayne,” Felix whispered, feeling the break in his own voice as it trembled.

“Relax, I’m right fucking here,” Shayne whispered. He cleared his throat and broke out the peppy voice from before. “Hey, Trish, this is my friend. His name’s –”

“Felix,” Felix murmured, gently laying his hand over the back of hers. The contact was surreal, like he was holding a hand made of wax, and he might have dropped it again out of abject fear, if she hadn’t closed her fingers around his. “I’m… I’m Felix.”

“Hello, sweetheart.”

“H-hi, how – how are you doing?”

“Oh, I was just weeding the flower beds.”

Felix’s heart sank. He wasn’t sure what exactly he’d been expecting; it wasn’t as though touching her own flesh and blood would suddenly bring back the coherency that had been eaten away by the dementia over the years.

“Sorry,” he whispered, clearing his throat and staring at the back of her hand. The words felt and sounded insufficient for what he needed them for, and yet he couldn’t think of any better ones. “I’ve been away for a, um, a long time, and I’m – I’m really sorry.”

Nothing changed on her face, nothing to indicate that she was taking any of what he was saying in. He felt a flutter of relief in his chest.

He realised Shayne wasn’t listening, either; in fact, he’d gone around to the other side of the bed and picked up something from Felix’s pile of papers. Felix didn’t have the heart to say anything to stop him.

“Oliver Bramley,” Shayne mumbled, frowning at a cutting from a newspaper. “Her husband’s a tech guy, apparently he’s worth millions.”

Felix squeezed Patricia’s hand and watched as Shayne flipped to the next clipping.

“Oh,” Shayne said, almost immediately after seeing the next headline. “He was worth millions. He’s been dead a few years…” His voice drifted off as he read to the end of the article. He looked up at Felix. “It says Avery’s dead too.”

“Yeah,” Felix said softly, turning his gaze towards her again. Her expression was peaceful, and her hands were gentle as they both cupped Felix’s. Her fingers, he realised, were drifting softly across his skin, a little more pointedly than Felix felt comfortable with. It looked like she was feeling for a watch or a bracelet, until she pressed the pads of her fingers into his wrist, as though she was checking his pulse.

Felix’s stomach flipped as he realised what was happening.

She was checking whether or not he had a pulse.

Felix sat up straight and tried to pull his hand free, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. Patricia jumped slightly, and lifted her head as though to meet his gaze, even though she couldn’t. He blinked, and tears dropped onto his lap.

All of the things he’d thought, at some time or another, that he’d like to say to her, seemed to evaporate straight off his tongue. His throat was probably too dry to form any words, in any case.

“Felix,” Patricia whispered, that smile breezing across her face again. As he looked up at her and blinked away tears, he envisioned the years melting out of her skin, her face quickly becoming the one that he remembered.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding briskly and trying to ignore the tears that were gathering in his eyes. He had never believed he’d hear that name being spoken by that voice.

“That suits you much better, darling.”

#Swallow the World #Thicker than Blood #Stw Felix #Felix's story #nausea #indigestion #anxiety #angst fic #sickfic #my OCs #memory loss mention #dementia mention #family drama

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motherfingtitan · 3 years

Text

Ignorance is Bliss

"When a routine holodeck security inspection goes wrong, new chief of security Jodie Sherret finds out what happened to her predecessor in the worst way possible.

"Are you coming to management training?" Billups’s voice broke her concentration as

Jodie Sherret looked up from her PADD.

"You mean senior crew karaoke?" She replied to Andy.

He shrugged, and they both continued down the hallway. Sherrets first weeks as the Cerritos new chief of security had been an emotional jumble of excitement, fear, joy, and sadness.

Quite a bit of sadness

As a Betazoid human hybrid, Jodie didn't have the telepathic abilities that full Betazoids had, but she was an empath. For the first week, every crew member she talked to radiated with sadness. Even during her first senior crew meeting, she was pounded with a mangled mess of depression that left her exhausted. She knew something tragic happened to her predecessor, but she felt it was inappropriate to ask so soon, especially when the ship had only left dry dock four weeks ago.

She knew a few things. Her predecessor was a Bajoran that went by Shax. He called his security crew the "Bear Pack," and after reviewing tactical programming, he loved to eject warp cores.

"Ransoms going to sing that song he heard while vacationing in Spain. I'm sure every glass in the bar is going to shatter," Billups continued, waving his hands around to emphasize just how bad Jack sang.

"I'll have to catch up with you later. I have to do an inspection on the holodeck. Some ensign, Bumford, I think" she twirled her right hand in the air. "Used all the crew's private logs to create a perfect holodeck simulation. I have to make sure there's no sensitive information in it before I delete it."

"Oh, Boimler! I remember him. He and his friends really saved us that day…." He trailed off.

And there it was again, that uncertain sadness that filled the space around them. She so badly wanted to understand what happened.

"It should only take me an hour, then I'll meet you guys" she tried to break the silence.

"Sounds good! The party will just be getting started. I'll save you a seat next to me" they reached a fork in the corridors, and Andy went left.

He waved as he turned another corner, out of sight. Jodie walked over to the closest turbo lift.

"Deck 8"

The turbo lift began moving, and the ambient sounds filled the air. She loved being alone, as it gave her time to take a break from many negative emotions. The lift slowed to a standstill, and the door slid open. Out she walked down the hallway, passing through ensigns work assignments. Arriving at the door to the holodeck, she rechecked her assignment.

"Computer, access holodeck program Boimler 7."

'This program requires authorization.'

"Authorization Sherret Beta-Four-Delta-Delta"

'Authorization granted, please specify which subprogram.'

"The hell?" She mouthed as the computer began listing out dates on the display. She scrolled up and down the different programs. The last date on the list caught her eye, stardate 57894.8, precisely a day before the Cerritos went into dry dock.

Maybe it was curiosity or just a random place to start, but Sherret chose that subprogram.

'You may enter when ready."

The door slid open to reveal the bridge. Freeman sat in the captain's chair with her legs crossed. Ransom was just walking in, flashing a smile to Freeman and handing her his PADD. Sherret stepped into the program as the doors slid shut behind her.

"These are the officers that are in the running for the Sacramento promotion," Ransom started.

Freeman waved him off. "I'll check it after we sort out this distress call from the Solvang. I can't believe Dayton's had that ship for a week, and she's already had an Ensign accidentally sit on the distress beacon button."

The Solvang? Jodie heard that that ship had been destroyed in an attack and lost all crew. Despite it being a holodeck program, her gut sank as she knew the inevitable was coming. They wouldn't get there in time.

Jodie began to walk over to the conn behind the captain's chair. The equipment and displays were slightly different, likely upgraded after the ship went into the dry dock. Behind the conn, two officers stood. The first she recognized as Billups, but the larger one next to him she had never seen. A glance at the two gold pips in his collar, and she realized that he was Shax. He was quite a bit taller than her and a great deal more intimidating. She started to look at the touchscreen on the wall, making herself look busy.

A lieutenant spoke, "Captain; we’re just about at the coordinates of the distress call."

"Drop to impulse."

After dropping to impulse, the view screens show a sight of rubble against a red, menacing backdrop.

"Shields up, red alert!" Ransom called out as debris hit the ship, causing all the officers on the bridge to stumble.

Shaxs spoke, "Collision alert. Impacts on decks Three, fifteen, and twenty!"

She stared in terrifying awe at her predecessor. His intense demeanor was a contrast to her more nuanced approach. It was surreal knowing that all of this had happened just a few weeks before Sherret first boarded the ship.

Looking over at the viewscreen, a large piece of debris that looked as if it had just gone through an explosion came into view. The words USS Solvang were plaster across it.

"My God! Is that the Solvang?" Freeman spoke.

"Not reading any life signs. The whole crew, they've been wiped out."

Suddenly, a mechanical arm grabbed the remaining piece of the destroyed ship. It pulled the rubble back and attached it to a much larger ship. Looking around, every officer on the bridge had looks of shock and fear in their eyes.

"They're harvesting the wreckage!"

The large ship began to shoot at the Cerritos, causing the decks to tremble.

"Evasive maneuvers!"

The next minute was a blur as the Cerritos tried and failed to escape the enemy or even send out a distress signal.

Shaxs was carefully monitoring damage reports, which at this point, we're coming in from all over the ship. Something alarmed him.

"Captain, they latched on to the port nacelle with some sort of mining arm!"

"Warp! Get us out of here!" Her commander's survival instincts kicked in.

"No! Shut down engines!"

"But we'll be sitting ducks!" Ransom tried to reason with the captain.

"Dayton would have thought the same thing, and look what happened to them. Shut it down!"

Both operations officers behind the conn tapped in the codes to shut down power. Just as the lights were growing dim, the ship jerked violently, Sending Sherret, along with the rest of the crew, flying across the bridge. The lieutenant managed to grab the chair’s arm to the left of the captains when she slammed into the ground. Sparks flew, and fires broke out, creating a disorienting haze. Hearing a scraping noise, Sherret looked up to see a metal ceiling plate about to rip away from the wires and fall.

"Captain, watch out!" Holo Freeman followed Jodie's eyes to the metal plate as it fell. The scream was sickening as the metal landed on the captain, cutting into her side.

"Computer, pause program!"

Everything paused. Sherret reoriented herself and sat in a more comfortable position.

"Do I really want to see this?" She spoke to herself. Everything in her screamed to stop the program and inspect something else. Just a boring old day that would put her to sleep. One look at Shaxs, who was bracing himself on the conn, made her change her mind.

"Computer, resume program."

One last jolt sent her flying back into the side of the chair before the ship eerily stood still. Two ensigns ran over to the captain as Billups turned auxiliary power back on. Jodie was just helping herself up when a menacing figure showed up on the viewscreen.

"We thought the Enterprise was strong. We are strong!"

Freeman’s voice wavered as she spoke, "This isn't the Enterprise; this is the Cerritos."

The figure took off its helmet "We thought you were the Enterprise."

Pakleds? The technology pillagers that took Geordi LaForge hostage in 2364? Sherret thought that they were a joke. Something to laugh about. The captain tried to reason with the Pakled, to no avail.

"We will cut your ship apart!" The transmission cut out as the Cerritos was pulled towards the other ship.

One of the Ensign, Boimler, who created this program, stated that the Pakleds had technology from over 30 different species.

They weren't a joke anymore.

The ship was brought into a repair bay of some sorts as a jolt was felt throughout the ship.

"They're phasering the hull!" Shaxs shouted.

Sherret ran to the conn that Billups was sitting at and looked at the force field integrity.

"Emergency force fields are holding, but I have no idea how long they're going to last on auxiliary power!" She spoke.

'None of this is happening right now,' she thought to calm herself down.. 'It happened before, but right now, Ransom is singing terribly, Freeman is uninjured, and the ship is safe.'

Mariner then stepped up and suggested a plan. A crazy dangerous plan, but a plan that worked considering that the Cerritos is still in one piece. Installing a program to disable the enemy ship was brilliant, and Sherret made a mental note to talk to Mariner about transferring to security.

Bright swirls of light appeared all over the bridge. "Intruders beaming in! Very slowly beaming in!"

'Safety protocols are offline. Extreme risk of injury or death.'

Jodie's blood drained from her face. "Computer, end program!"

'Unable to comply.'

"Computer, pause program!"

'Unable to comply.'

Boimler spoke, "Trust me, I really wish this was a program too!"

'No, no, no no no' she tapped on her combadge, desperately trying to get in contact with anybody, but nothing was getting through.

"We gotta go!" Mariner rushed everyone into the turbo lift.

"Deck 7," Shaxs practically roared.

The armory was located on that deck but all the way on the other side of the ship. How were they going to make it in time with Intruders beaming in all over the ship? The captain was already growing weak as she leaned on Shaxs for support.

'Come on! Somebody come in!' The tapping on her combadge grew more frantic as the turbo lift slowed to a stop. The doors slid open, and Mariner led the way down the corridor. Wires stuck out everywhere, sparks coming from them.

'Freeman, Ransom, Billups. Anyone come in!'

"We have to get to the armory!" Shaxs spoke just before all of them were cut off by Pakleds beaming in from all four directions. They were trapped.

"Looks like we'll have to repel them the old-fashioned way. Setting my fists to stun in my kick to kill." Mariner rolled her eyes back as she pulled off several different sheets of metal plating from the walls and ceiling. Numerous pieces of contraband, mainly consisting of weapons, fell from the compartments.

"Hey, we got all this" she kicked some weapons towards the group. The rest of the officers quickly started to arm themselves. "All the way in the back too!"

Sherret spotted a Glavin rolling towards her. She picked it up and placed it on her right hand, trying to get used to the weight.

"How much contraband have you hidden on my ship?" Holo Freeman asked.

"I don't know, a lot!" Was her only reply before the Pakleds started to materialize.

Sherret got in her fighting stance, fists and weapons up. The Intruders materialized and started running towards the group. In a split second, she dashed towards the Pakleds, swinging her weapon and hoping someone got her com call.

...

If there's one thing Commander Ransom thought he was good at but wasn't, it was singing.

Yo te amo y ahora perdóname

Solo recuérdame

Te amo, te amo, te amo

Te amo, te amo

The man was absolutely tone-deaf. The vast majority of crew members in 10 forward were internally cringing but trying to put on a pleasant facade because Jack was the first officer. All the way in the back corner, swirling his glass around but not taking a sip, was Commander Billups.

He glanced to his right, where Sherret would have been If she were here.

"What is taking her so long?" He spoke to himself, tapping his glass and watching the ripples that it made in his drink.

She was supposed to only take an hour, but it had already been nearly two. Staring at the seat for a moment longer, his combadge came to life.

"Help! Someone help!"

He nearly jumped before tapping his badge. "Commander Billups here. Report!"

The voice that came back was filled with fear and breathing heavily. "Oh, thank God! It's Lieutenant Sherret. The holodeck program I was running is corrupted. Safety protocols are offline, I can't get out of the program, and Holo Pakleds are attacking me. I need he-" a scream cut off the call.

Billups jumped from his booth and ran out of the bar, bumping into a few officers along the way. He sprinted to the nearest touch screen panel.

"Computer, what program is running in holodeck two?!"

'The program running is Boimler 7. Safety protocols are currently offline.'

"Turn safety protocols back on!"

'Unable to comply.'

"Initiate Chief Engineer override. Billups Alpha-Delta-Four-Four-Seven. Shut down holodeck two."

'Unable to comply.'

"What the heck is wrong with this thing?" He was nearly pulling his hair out looking. "Billups to Rutherford" he commed

"Rutherford here"

"Meet me outside of holodeck two. We have a serious problem with a corrupt program."

"On my way."

He ran back into the lounge, trying to act as normal as possible. He spotted T'ana, a deadpan expression plastered on her face with the occasional side glare to Nurse Westlake, who just shrugged in return. Coming up from behind, T'ana suddenly felt herself being pulled away mid-drink.

"Dammit! What the hell?" She snarled.

"Sorry, need to borrow her for a second," Billups said to nurse Westlake, who just raised an eyebrow in return.

"Ok, what the hell was that!" The doctor snapped when they finally stepped out of the lounge.

"Sherret is stuck in a dangerous holodeck program. She commed me midway through the program, and the last thing I heard was a scream. She might be injured."

T'ana stood looking at him for a moment, observing the worry in his eyes. "Alright. I'm sure it's nothing major, but I'll get a team on standby.

...

The scene was insane. The sound of weapons hitting surfaces and the grunts from the Pakleds and the crew muddled together for disturbing background noise. Sherret was currently swinging her weapon at two Pakleds, landing several decent hits.

There were just so damn many of them!

Shoveling her glavin into one of the pakleds stomachs, she was able to kick it in the knee, causing him to collapse. Behind her, Shaxs was throwing bodies at one another and, at one point, literally head-butted one of the enemies. While looking over at Shaxs, a Pakled came up from behind and swiped her. The force throwing her across the hallway, and blood seeped out of her newly formed wound.

"Little fucker" she mumbled, gripping her wound.

Another was charging after her. Sliding out of the way at the last second, the Pakled slammed itself into the wall, where she was able to shove the weapon directly into its lower back.

"Mom!" Sherret glanced up, seeing Mariner across the hallway running to the collapsed captain.

There was so much blood, with the sticky liquid pooling on the floor. Mariner tried to pull her up before the entire ship shook, and a bright phaser beam tore through the hallway. Shaxs ran over to the captain and picked up her weak frame. Both him and Boimler ran towards sickbay.

"Ransom! Get our backs!" Mariner yelled out before following her mother.

"Way ahead of you," he side kicked another Pakleds, causing it to fall and mumble, "my leg!"

"Hey! Any particular reason you two aren't using weapons?" Sherret swung at the Pakled, being pinned against the wall by Billups.

"I only need my hands as wepo-" Jack was cut off by a punch to the face. Falling to the ground, he managed to use both of his legs to kick the Pakled off. "Double leg kick!"

More yellow energy beams appeared in the hallways.

"Guys, we have more beaming in!" Billups yelled

"How many of these guys are there?" Sherret stood in a fighting stance.

"I don't know, but whatever happens, do not let them get past sickbay!" Ransom threw his signature kicks and punches.

Though they were able to get a majority of the Pakleds off their backs, a few pinned the three right against sickbay doors. Just as she had crushed another holo Intruder's kneecap, the sick bay doors slid open, revealing Shaxs with Rutherford over his shoulder. They began to run down the hallway.

'This is my chance,' Sherret thought. She could finally learn what happened to her predecessor.

She took off running, desperate to keep up with them. She had only ran about 10 ft before getting cut off by a large yellow phaser beam. It was so bright that the lieutenant had to cover her eyes temporarily. Without seeing it, someone snuck up on her. Something forcefully tugged at her hair, throwing her off balance and onto the ground. Her eyes shot open, but it was too late.

From there, she was picked up and shoved into the wall. Suddenly, the Pakled put immense pressure on her neck. Looking down, a metal bar pressed against her throat, most likely a handle from an old weapon. The Pakled lifted her from the ground, her only support being the metal bar choking her and her hands trying to tear it away. The pressure was insane, and every breath felt like it was only getting a drop of oxygen. She flailed their arms back and forth, desperately clawing at the metal, trying to get the bar off of her before she blacked out from lack of oxygen.

...

"Well, what did he say?" Mariner ran down the hallway, trailing behind Rutherford.

"He just said it was a serious problem with a corrupt holodeck program," Rutherford replied, making a sharp right turn. He saw Billups frantically waving at him from the other side of the hallway.

"I hope whoever is in there is going to be okay," Tendi added.

"I'm sure everything is going to work out," Mariner replied as the three ensigns skidded to a stop at the end of the hallway.

Rutherford rushed over to the holodeck control panel, where his boss was already trying to type in different commands to end the program. "What program is running, sir, and who's in there?"

"Boimler 7, Lieutenant Sherret was doing a routine inspection of it before safety protocols failed."

Rutherford knew that program, as ever since he got his new implant, bits of memories were coming back. He started working on the code in the system. But something was wrong, and it looks like it had been messed with in ways that Boimler wouldn't do.

"Sir, I think someone went in and edited the program, and that's why the safeties failed. The entire coding of it is off" he glanced over at Mariner.

It wasn't too far of a fetch, as Mariner had gone into that program and edited it to make her movie. But why would safeties go off? It's not like any of them got injured there.

Except for the side of Rutherford's head and her lips.

Oh shit.

Billups and T'ana eyes followed Rutherford to Mariners. "what in the hell did you do?" T'ana asked

"I reprogrammed Boimlers holodeck program so that I could do some much-needed therapy in a movie. I don't know what disabled safety protocols."

"Is that why both you and Rutherford showed up to my office bleeding that day?"

"Yeah"

Billups pinched the bridge of his nose. "You messed with a holodeck program, came out bleeding, and you didn't tell anyone!"

"I get thirsty after holodeck therapy sessions! And then I forgot…."

"Well, you're forgetfulness could get another security officer killed!" He shouted.

T'ana stepped in between them "Both of you need to calm the fuck down before I deem you medically unfit to continue duty," Billups opened his mouth just to be cut off by T'ana, "and don't give me any 'I'm the CHENG' bullshit. Let’s just figure something out"

Mariner used this as an opportunity to dust off her contraband. Pulling a panel on the wall, many bits and pieces from different places fell out, including a crowbar. "Sometimes you got to do with the old-fashioned way" she swung the heavy metal crowbar around.

"And just where the hell did you get a crowbar?" T'ana irritated voice cut through the tension.

Beckett shoved one end of the crowbar into the space where the closed doors met and began to push against the metal bar. "Stole it on shore leave a couple of weeks back. Are any of you gonna help me pry this door open before knock-off Troi gets impaled?"

Tendi ran over and began to pull on the other side of the crowbar. Grinding filled the air as the door slid open a fraction of an inch.

"Someone check what's going on. I can't hold it for long" Tendi and Mariner put their entire weight into the bar.

Billups was able to see through the tiny slit. Scanning the scene, he finally spotted Jodie in a battered and slightly bloody state. A holo Pakled held her against the wall with a metal pipe. Gasping for air, she desperately clawed at the bar, arms and legs swinging. Then with a grinding noise, the door slammed shut, throwing D'vana and Beckett to the floor.

T'ana irritated expression softened when she saw all the blood drain from Andy's face.

"That bad?"

He took a deep breath. "Yeah, it's recreating the Pakled fight. Rutherford, go down to engineering and see if you can cut the power off there. I'll stay up here and keep trying."

Rutherford ran off, and Billups took his spot, quickly resuming the work that his ensign had already started.

...

Jodie's vision began to darken around the edges as the pressure on her neck increased with every second. Her holo enemy had nothing but malice in his eyes. Just as she began to feel limp, the pressure released.

"Side kick! Double punch!" The holographic version of her first officer had disarmed the enemy and knocked them out. Sherret dropped to her hands and knees, gasping sweet oxygen in as fast as she could.

"Lieutenant!" He helped her up.

"I'll live," she croaked out, hoping that statement was true. "How many more?"

"I think we got most of them," Holo Billups leaned against the wall, catching his breath.

The turbo lift doors on the far end of the corridor opened, revealing a few straggler Pakleds, likely coming from the bridge.

"Are you okay to fight?" Ransom asked

Sherret nodded, barely having a voice to speak anymore. She picked up the metal pole that was held against her neck moments ago off the ground and held it at an angle against her body.

"Billups, catch!" Ransom threw a battle-ax at him as the Pakleds closed in.

In much of a Ransom style, he simply put his fists in a fighting position. "You guys ready to get the last of these assholes out of here?"

"Ready when you are!" Billups replied, and Sherret nodded as they all took their first swings.

Sherret slowly realized that neck injury might have been worse than she initially thought, and she noticed her fighting was way weaker than average. Every swing of the pipe brought uncomfortable pressure to the front of her neck, and even though she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to ignore the pain, it still made her fighting speed much slower. Billups and Ransom, however, were fighting at full strength, making up for her slowness.

"How much more do we have!" her voice sounded terrible.

“Just these idiots,” ransom yelled with two enemies surrounding him.

"We will tear you apart, just like we tore this ship apart," the Pakled yelled.

"I don't think so" Moving slightly between them; he was able to kick one of them in the crotch, causing the intruder to collapse and let go of his weapon. Ransom grabbed the weapon just as the first intruder was falling to the ground and managed to hit the second one on the head. Both fell into the same pile.

Ransom hitched his leg up slightly and let his footrest on one of the bodies. "That'll teach you all not to mess with Commander Jack Ransom!"

"Jack, you may want to look at this," Billups called out. Towards the outside light coming from the end of the hallway. Sherret followed, and Ransom trailed behind.

"The shuttle" Ransom ran over to the window at the end of the corridor.

There, the shuttle floated aimlessly around the ship. Peaceful even.

Boom

The explosion of the pakleds ship shook the already weak Cerritos to its core. The light engulfed the entire hallway and sent all three officers stumbling to the ground.

It was breathtaking in a terrifying way, and as Sherret looked at that giant explosion, she knew what happened. Shaxs never made it back to the shuttle. He died in the blast.

She just watched her predecessor die.

"I sure hope both of them got out," Billups spoke up as the noise finally quieted down.

"They both did. Shaxs isn't going to be taken down that easily" Ransom slowly stood up. He was still trying to find his balance.

"Commander Ransom," his combadge sparked to life, "We just pulled the shuttlecraft back into the ship. She's in pretty bad shape, sir. You better take a look."

"Acknowledged, I'll be right there" he turned to Billups. "The lieutenant and I will go down to the shuttle bay. You get to engineering and make sure we aren't leaking radiation."

The run to the shuttle bay was excruciating, not just because of her neck injury but because she knew what would happen. Shaxs wouldn't be in the shuttlecraft. She'd be forced to see everyone's reaction and to see why she was even assigned to the Cerritos in the first place.

Shuttle bay didn't look much better than the rest of the ship, with much of the equipment on the walls busted and ripped out. There, being pulled into the ship was the Sequoia in all its glory. As soon as the shuttle stopped moving, Ransom ran to the side and pulled the door open. Each movement filled Sherret with more dread.

Stepping into the shuttle, both officers saw Rutherford collapsed on the ground with his implant ripped out.

Ransom yelled, "Get him to sickbay!" Medical personnel came in and picked Rutherford up.

Ransom paced around, trying to see if Shaxs was there. Ransom knew he wasn't, as he would have seen him when he first entered the shuttle, but the denial was getting to him. The realization hit him like a truck. He pulled back his fists and slammed them into the console out of anger while screaming.

Tears began to fill Sherret's eyes. Not like this! She didn't want to see the crew like this. She didn't want to know what happened like this! She leaned against the shuttle wall, dizzy and still in shock.

'Safety protocols restored.'

The scene changed, and instead of leaning against a shuttle wall, she leaned against the back wall of the holodeck. It was over, but it didn't feel over.

...

"Rutherford, I need options now!" Billups was starting to panic now, as every program he had tried had failed to shut the holodeck down.

"Sir, the fastest thing I could do is shut down power to that section of the ship and then turn it back on. That should be enough to shut the holodeck program down," he said through the comm.

"How long would power be shut down to this section?"

"Approximately 1 minute"

"Then do it. Use override if you have to."

The hallway went dark, the only lights being emergency lighting. Time stood still for what seemed like ages as Billups kept his eyes glued to the control panel.

"Restarting power, sir, I'll be right up there" Rutherford ended the call from engineering.

The power slowly came on, illuminating the hallway. The control panel came back online and cleared any existing programs running on the holodeck, including Boimler 7.

"Finally!"

The doors finally slid open just as Rutherford ran down the hallway. The bright light made Sherret turn around to face the door. Her eyes widened in shock as tears rolled down her face. T'ana, Tendi, and Billups ran in, leaving Mariner and Rutherford standing just outside the door.

The lieutenant began to sway from weakness and dropped to her knees. The other officers surrounded her.

"T'ana, is she ok?" Billups voice filled with worry

"Does she fucking look ok? Don't ask stupid questions!"

Sherret held her neck, thinking that somehow, just maybe, the contact would help the pain go away. Billups looked at her oddly when she kept holding her neck.

"Her neck!" Billups realized "she was choked"

"Pull her hair up. I want to check it."

Billups gently gathered her undone hair and held it at the top of her head, careful to avoid pulling on the cut on her hairline. T'ana made quick work unbuttoning the torn jacket as Jodie's bruised neck came into view. A blotchy mess of bruises and bloody abrasions replaced what was ordinarily pale skin. It was a sight that made both senior officers' eyes widen.

"Holy shit. We need to get her to sickbay! Tendi, load a hypospray." T'ana commed nurse Westlake to get a stretcher to the holodeck ASAP.

It was so painful for Jodie. With the adrenaline wearing off, each gasp felt like needles running down her neck.

"Is, is that how it happened?" Sherret spoke between gasps. Her voice hoarse from being strangled. "Is that what happened to the ship? To sha-"

"Don't talk. I don't want you to permanently damage your neck" T'ana worked with Tendi loading a hypospray.

Andy let go of her hair and placed both hands on her shoulders. "Come on, Jodie, stay with us. Stay with me."

Tears still ran down her face, hitting the holodeck floor.

T'ana walked over with a hypo. "I can't have her jerking her neck around," she pressed a hypo against Sherrets neck. "Sorry, kid"

The world faded into darkness as sherret slumped forward right into Billups’s arms.

...

"She's waking up."

"Get me a hypospray. She’s going to want painkillers."

Jodies face scrunched at the cold hypo being administered.

"Hey, sleepyhead. Welcome back!" Tendis smile was the first thing Jodie saw.

"What the?" Her eyes started between the four people standing over her. "This isn't my quarters?"

“Nope, You’re in sickbay,” Westlake spoke.

"You were on the holodeck being attacked by Pakleds. Rutherford and Billups managed to get you out, though." Tendi continued.

“So that's what happened." Jodie attempted to sit up before being pushed back down by T'ana. "Take it easy. You got the crap beaten out of you in there. I don't know why you can disable the safety protocols on the holodeck. Damn death traps."

"That's not the worst thing I saw in there."

An uncomfortable silence filled the room.

"Tendi, finish that paperwork from the blood samples earlier. Westlake, cover for me while I finish this"

The two nurses exited one of the few private medical rooms in sickbay. Tendi wished the officer a fast recovery before closing the door. Beeping came from the medical tricorder as the doctor scanned her patient.

"You're looking better. When you first came here, you had strangulation injuries along with some lacerations and a couple of bruised ribs. Your vocal cords were damaged, though, and the only thing that will heal that is time. And yes, you're going to sound like a dying Tribble for the next couple of weeks."

She crooked "How long was I asleep for"

"12 hours. I tried to get your friend to go back to his quarters, but he wouldn't budge."

"Oh," she mouthed, looking over at the exhausted yet relieved state of the chief engineer.

"I still want you to stay here for another day. After that, you're on light duty for the next two weeks."

Jodie took a deep breath. "Is that what happened?"

Unnerving silence

"Is that what happened to your former-" she was cut off by T'ana

"I heard you the first time. And yes, that is what happened." She pursed her lips. Trying to think of what to say next. "I wish you could have found out differently."

She pressed a button on the biobed, allowing it to incline to a 45° angle. "Ok, kid, I gotta check up on some other stuff. I'll give you another hypospray soon." She turned to Billups, "and you have fifteen minutes. You look like hell, and your jacket looks like it's been through a murder scene." She left the room.

"Is that my blood?" Jodie looked at the smear of red extending from Billups’s shoulder to his chest.

"Uh, yeah. You had a cut on your forehead when you passed out and fell into me. It's ok, though. I have tons of jackets. Engineering gets messy."

"Does the entire ship know?" She avoided eye contact.

"No one but us. Captain just knows you were in a holodeck accident."

"Thank goodness"

'Deep breath Jodie, ' she thought before continuing, "I knew something bad happened. I could feel it every time I talked to anybody on the ship for the first two weeks. But seeing it. Seeing it happen just makes everything worse."

At this point, Andy had pulled a chair over to her bed.

"And you guys went through it; you were there when Shaxs died. I just went through a holographic version of it."

"Everyone on the ship is still upset about what happened. I know I am. Shaxs was like a big brother to me, and I miss him. You shouldn't feel bad, though. No one views you as just a replacement. You're doing an amazing job as a bridge officer." He ran a hand through his untamed hair before reaching out and grabbing hers, "and for what it's worth, I'm glad you're here."

Sherret chuckled weakly. "Thanks. For everything, you really saved my ass back there."

"Don't mention it. I was also wondering, and I was going to ask this before the whole holodeck thing" he fiddled with the blanket in the bed with his free hand, "after you're all healed up, and your voice heals a little bit, did you wanna do dinner in my quarters?"

Her eyes widened. "Commander?"

"If no one's around, you can just call me Andy."

"Oh," she mouthed, "I would say the same thing, but I think you already called me Jodie in the holodeck."

"Yeah, I guess I did."

“I had a feeling you were going to ask. Ya know, the whole empath thing.”

He chuckled in return, and they sat in silence for a few moments, feeling the warmth in each other's hands. They knew Billups would have to leave soon, as T'ana was notoriously strict about timing and visiting hours. Silently, Jodies raised her arms. Confusion spread across Andy's face before realizing she wanted a hug.

Gently, as not to disturb her neck, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled in for a hug. Unknown to both of them, T'ana had walked in the room to kick Billups out. However, seeing this made her change her mind just a little bit. A slight smirk spread across her face.

She stepped outside and closed the door behind her. "I'll give him another 5 minutes."

...

This was originally thought up in early spring, long before we even got the first teaser for season two. Needless to say, its only season one canon compliant.

Special thanks to @antzonian for all the help, especially dialogue

#star trek #star trek lower decks #Lower Decks

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witchcraft-in-wonderland · 3 years

Text

Strangers (Pt.10)

-------------------------

"Roman I can walk down the stairs by myself!"

"But you could get hurt! I mean what if you fell or tripped or- look at you!"

"What about me?."

"Well you're h-"

"I'd chose your next words carefully Princey unless you want to learn how to swallow with teeth in your throat."

"Yessir-"

The past seven months had been bliss for Virgil, everything finally felt normal and safe. Virgil could finally go outside and chat without stressing about being overheard. He could finally breath and laugh and smile at his husband.

And most importantly, this really was Roman. Not some copy or fallacy meant to keep him isolated and dependent.

The only thing he wasnt much enjoying was the process leading up to the family he'd soon be starting. He sometimes wished he could just stay in bed for decades on end instead.

"Are you coming to eat breakfast or not then? I'll still carry you if I have to," Roman said, standing at the bottom of the stairs, waiting patiently for his husband.

"I'm coming I'm coming- last time I checked I'm supposed to be the emotionally distressed one arent I?" Virgil said with a laugh, followed by a sharp intake of breath as his arm crossed over his stomach.

"Told you she wouldnt like those jokes either didnt I?" Roman said with a laugh.

"You're insufferable sometimes Roman I hope you know that," Virgil said, finally accepting Roman's help the rest of the way down.

"Wow, six plates just for me?" Virgil said as he sat down, scanning the table in front of him.

"And that's not all, I finally finished that tonic for morning sickness I was working on," Roman said.

"Oh really? And how much help did you need with that?" Virgil said, eyes glancing over the wolf necklace around his husband's neck for a few fleeting moments.

"Hey! It only took like- three questions-" Roman said, clearly biting the inside of his cheek. Virgil raised an eyebrow.

"Thirty. It took thirty." Roman states, rolling his eyes. Virgil snickered slightly.

"Well hopefully it works, I'd like to sit down for sewing without having to get up every ten seconds," Virgil said, smiling as he raised a glass.

"To the Order of Terra, without whom none of the bullcrap we've put up with would have been possible," Virgil said sarcastically.

"Now baby you of all people should know not to mock the dead," Roman said sternly.

"They died once and if they wanna fight I can kill em again," Virgil continued.

"Do you know when Logan plans on getting rid of that gods forsaken book?" Roman asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Probably gonna pass it on with his necklace, he's practically fanatical about it, I ask him what day it is and he somehow ties it in to something someone in the order said that was important for- reasons," Virgil said with a laugh.

"I mean I guess it's good information to know?" Roman said pensively, Virgil shrugged.

"So how do you feel?" Roman said, glancing up at Virgil.

"Bloated and nauseous." Virgil said sardonically.

"Aaawww, poor baby. . ." Roman said, running a hand through Virgil's hair.

"How many months are left again?" Virgil said.

"Just one, maybe a little less," Roman replied, Virgil groaned.

"You wanna visit the others?" Roman asked.

"Cant they just come here?" Virgil asked.

"Alright, I'll call," Roman answered.

And soon enough there were six more people in the living room. Andy, who had insisted on sleeping in Virgil's room until breakfast had ended, seemed very delighted at the prospect of so many people in one room at once.

"Andy! Down!" Virgil called as the shaggy black mass attempted to crawl into Patton's lap.

"Oh hes not doing anything wrong! Hes just a big ol' sweetheart- arent you? Who's a good boy? Who's a good booooyyyy?" And with that Patton had dissolved solely into baby talk with the dog.

"Logie are you gonna interact with the rest of us or is that book really so interesting?" Remus said, very obviously sarcastic.

"I'm almost done!" Logan said, waving a hand in Remus' direction.

"You've read it a dozen times Logie," Remus said with a laugh.

And then Virgil froze.

Something felt wrong.

Very, very wrong.

"R-Roman-" he managed to sputter out, before a sharp inhale.

"Oh gods- is it-" Virgil nodded before Roman could even finish.

"Janus could you get the emergency pack? Remus you can drive us right?" Both nodded, Roman rushed over to Virgil to sweep him off the couch.

Virgil had heard stories of this kind of thing, but he hadnt thought it would be this hectic in real life.

Though, he supposed he was lucky Remus understood when proper driving was necessary.

He spent the whole ride to the hospital clinging to Roman's arm with one hand while holding his stomach with the other, Remus and Logan in the front seats, and Janus and Patton in the back as well. Remy and Emile had agreed to go separately to secure a decent spot at the hospital.

And it was lucky they did, Virgil wasnt sure he wanted to stay two days in an uncomfortable room.

But after much blood, sweat, and tears, finally, it was over.

"We just need to clean her up a bit so you can rest, then you can hold her for as long as you want," and with that the nurse left the room with the crying baby.

Virgil let out a heavy sigh, a smile clearly visible on his face.

"We did it baby, we're dads now. . ." Roman said, smiling.

"Wait holy shiitake mushrooms I'm an uncle-" Remus said, suddenly wide-eyed.

"Very astute Remus," Janus replied sarcastically.

"Oh shut up grandpa," Remus said with a smirk.

Janus paused for a few moments before shooting a glare in his direction.

A few minutes later the baby was back safe in Virgil's arms. Virgil let Roman sign her certificates, Helena Elizabeth Prince-Duke, a daughter of their very own.

Virgil wasnt sure he'd ever be able to take his eyes off her. He watched as she blinked a few times, arms waving as if caught in a breeze. And then opened two very distinct, charcoal reddish-black eyes.

----------------------------------------------

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crimsonrae · 4 years

Text

A Matter of Degrees

Chapter One

Summary: Dr. Emil Hamilton had been fascinated by Superman, but not afraid. Five years after his death Clark finds out why.

Clark Kent x OC

Rated: Mature

A/N: I’m not a big Superman fan, but after watching Snyder’s films and Henry, I wanted to explore a more broken/healing Clark. Slowish build on this. Let me know if you want to be tagged. :)

Somewhere in the California Desert

He wanted to laugh.

It was an inappropriate reaction to the situation at hand, Emil knew this intrinsically, but he still wanted to laugh... mostly in disbelief. He had just watched as an alien and a human were taken hostage - as a Kryptonian spacecraft disappeared back into the sky. More than that, he had watched it happen with an entire platoon of U.S. military personnel. To say that the last few days had been surreal would really just be an understatement of biblical proportions.

He wasn't unaccustomed to weird situations, by any means, but his threshold had definitely just found a new level.

He snorted quietly to himself and focused on the hilarity bubbling in his gut, knowing that if he didn't the panic that lurked beneath would take over. Some part of him was terrified that this whole thing wasn't going to work, that handing over Kal-El – Superman- whatever-his damn-name-was and Ms. Lane was a giant mistake and he felt sick that he had just stood there and let it happen.

"Dr. Hamilton?"

What if General Zon annihilated the Earth anyway? Did he really have what he wanted?

"Dr. Hamilton, sir?"

Emil blinked as a hand grasped his shoulder and began to push him toward a waiting caravan. All around him the soldiers had begun to disperse, following new orders he assumed. General Swanwick ducked his head down and continued to prod the shorter man forward as he spoke hurriedly, "There's nothing for us to do here. We'll get you back to base to monitor the situation...with any luck, this General Zod will head back to whatever Godforsaken planet he came from."

"You really think that's what's gonna happen?" Emil questioned cynically. He wasn't really expecting a response as he clambered into a Humvee and pulled his phone from his pocket.

"I can only hope." The general murmured quietly before disappearing from the scientist's side.

Emil shook his head and dialed a number he knew by heart. He barely noticed when the car lurched forward as he listened to a familiar ring, he had the sinking feeling he would get her voicemail, but that was okay. Another moment past before he heard her voice.

Hi, you've reached Rebecca Hamilton. Leave a message and I'll get back to you when I have a free moment.

Beep.

Abrupt. To the point...yeah, that was his little girl. He smiled faintly, "Hey kiddo, it's been a few days since I've talked to you. I know it's probably nighttime where you're at right now, but I just... I just wanted to talk to you. You wouldn't believe the things I've seen lately or maybe you would. I met a young man that reminded me of you. Well, a young man and a reporter actually...it's a long story. I just want you to know, honey, that I love you and I'm proud of you. Give your old man a call when you get a chance, huh?"

He ended the call and tried not to frown sullenly as he turned his gaze to the passing scenery. The sergeant driving the Humvee shot him a side glance as he curiously asked, "Daughter?"

Emil jerked slightly, not expecting to be pulled from his thoughts as he glanced briefly at his phone, "Yeah...yeah, she um she's working somewhere in Southern Asia right now. Couldn't pronounce the name of the village even if I wanted to."

The sergeant nodded politely, "She a scientist like you?"

Emil huffed a small laugh, "No... no, she's a freelancer. One day she'll be a tour guide for some cruise-line, the next she's trekking through a jungle as a research assistant. She has this blog about her travels, it seems to keep her fed."

The sergeant raised a brow, "That's exciting...and worrying, I bet, for a father."

"Like you wouldn't believe." The doctor muttered ruefully, "She's always had my curiosity, but sometimes I wish she had gotten her mother's instead. Andrea was more inclined to sate her curiosity with books in a library. I was always the one that needed to be on-site somewhere. Becky got that from me and I'm sure somewhere Andi's laughing at the many heart attacks that our daughter has given me as a result."

The sergeant chuckled quietly as he navigated them through the base's gates, "I think that's just a child's prerogative, Dr. Hamilton."

"You're probably right." Emil agreed warmly as he thought of his daughter, he could practically see her mischievous smirk, "You have kids?"

"Two. A boy and a girl." The sergeant answered with a proud grin, "My girl just turned six and she bullies her big brother something awful.

He pulled up before a plain stucco building and slid a photo from his inside pocket to hand to Emil.

"Old school. I like it." The sides were crinkled, but it was a photo that probably went everywhere with the man. Two cherubic faces peered back at him and Emil smiled, "They're beautiful."

He clicked the side button of his phone to show the sergeant the photo acting as his wallpaper. It was him and Rebecca before she had disappeared off for lands unknown again. She had wrapped an arm around his neck as she made him take a selfie with her. It had been a good day.

"I break my phone on a regular basis. Photo's easier to keep around." The sergeant explained as he took Emil's phone and raised a brow, "You guys must be close."

Emil shrugged as they swapped back, "It's just been the two of us for a long time. She's my world, even when she's on the other side of it."

He slid his phone back into his pocket as he pushed the car door open and stepped outside. He leaned back in and offered his hand, "Thanks for the ride Sergeant...Haskell. It's been nice chatting with you."

"Aaron Haskell, sir. And you as well." Haskell replied taking the offered hand.

Their conversation was mundane at best, but Emil recognized it for what it was- a brief distraction from the horror the world had become in the past forty-eight hours. That there is still a possibility of there being no tomorrow. The two parted ways from there and Emil drifted through the next few hours as he watched the screen in the situation room. General Zod was still hovering outside Earth with no word from either Ms. Lane or Superman.

It was just as a faint buzzing vibrated through his pocket that movement was detected on the screen. Emil bit his lip as his daughter's face flashed across the screen of his phone and he glanced once more at the group of tensely strung soldiers and scientists. They could do without him for a few minutes. If this was the world ending, he was damn well going to talk to his daughter.

"Hey, kiddo. Give me one second." Emil said hurriedly as he moved for the hall. No one paid him much attention, their eyes still glued to the screen.

"Hey, Dad." Rebecca said tiredly once he was settled somewhere somewhat privately, "I didn't like that message you left...it sounded too final... too goodbye-ish. You're okay, right?"

A fond smile crossed his lips, "Yeah, sweetheart, I'm fine. I'm just missing you. I wish you were here. What are you doing up? It must be late there."

"Super early actually. Are you sure, you're okay? I've seen the news, Dad." He heard her sigh quietly, "Aliens exist – the world may be ending. And I'm guessing that you're probably in the middle of it."

"You get news in the jungle?"

"Dad."

"Becky -" He started calmly, to anyone else they would have heard a weary, but confident young woman, but he heard the fear, the worry in his little girl.

"Don't tell me, you don't know what's going on, Dad." A dryly amused lilt entered her tone, "You seem to forget I know who you work for and that you have a tendency of leaving classified files on the kitchen table. I know what a big mucky-muck you are over there... Just tell me you're safe, okay?"

"I'm safe. I promise." He shook his head in exasperation, "I'm surrounded by guys with guns, can't get any safer."

"Yeah, right." She murmured quietly and he could almost picture her tugging at the necklace she always wore, "I've changed my flight. I'll be home the day after tomorrow."

"Oh, sweetheart, no. You were supposed to be in Nakhomi Ticakwok for another month. Don't cut your trip short, this is nothing." He cringed both relieved that she was coming home, but hating what was bringing her back enough to protest.

"Oh God, Dad, you weren't even a little bit close. Just say Malaysia, it'll keep you out of trouble." She muttered as she stifled a laugh, "And if it's nothing, then Malaysia isn't going anywhere. I can always come back."

"Becky..." He sighed.

She huffed on the other end, sounding for a moment just like her mother, "You know I hate it when you call me that."

Emil rolled his eyes, "You know, there was a time you hated being called Rebecca."

"That's because it usually meant I was in trouble, but I'm not a little girl anymore, Dad. Becky is a name for a little girl with pigtails and the tendency of being covered in dirt."

"Yeah well, you're my little girl, no matter how old you get and I bet you all the money in my wallet that you have your hair in braided pigtails right now and are covered in dirt."

Emil grinned at the stymied silence from the other end of the line. She was probably checking herself over, but he knew his daughter.

"...It's not dirt, it's clay." She stated defiantly and he snorted.

"Twenty-seven years old and still a walking tornado." He murmured affectionally, "Don't you ever change, kiddo."

"Yeah, yeah." She muttered quietly, "Tell me about this guy you mentioned in your message. You said he reminded you of me."

Emil swallowed a sigh as he looked up and down the hallway to make sure no one was listening to him. Even still, he cordoned himself into a small side office, "He's... special, honey. Kinda like you. He can do things that quite frankly are astounding."

"Ah, you mean he's a freak like me."

"You're not a freak." Emil rebuked tiredly, "Being different, doesn't make you a freak."

"Hmm."

He knew the apathetic grunt was her placation for him, but it set his teeth on edge, "You're not a freak."

"Dad, just move on." Rebecca murmured quietly, it was an argument and an old one.

This time he let the sigh come, "He's strong and he was putting on this determined front for me and the General, but I could see he was worried, scared. All I wanted to do was tell him it was going to be okay, but I couldn't. Made me think of you. How brave you are, how strong..."

There was a moment of silence and then she asked, "Was this the alien? Did you guys find him?"

"Becky -"

"You did." She breathed, "Holy shit... Dad, do you think my abilities are-"

"You're human, Rebecca Josephina. I watched your mother give birth to you and there is no doubt that I'm your father, so don't even go there."

"Oh, the full name. Haven't gotten that in a while."

Emil rolled his eyes, "Oh kid, you're gonna be the death of me."

She snickered lightly before asking quite solemnly, "How'd you know he was scared?"

"Father's instinct." He murmured just as the door to the office swung open.

A bright-eyed tech peered at him worriedly, "Dr. Hamilton. You're needed in the sit -room."

Emil nodded and watched the tech run off as he sighed again, "Listen, honey, I have to go, but I'm glad I got to talk to you today."

"Me too."

"I love you so much, kid."

"I love you too. Dad, be safe please." Her voice sounded so small, despite the steadiness of it and he frowned.

"That goes both ways. I'll talk at ya later." Emil stated softly as he listened to her parting and quickly end the call.

It wasn't until hours later when Emil was aboard the C-17 and his fingers were reaching to push down the key that he thought back to his daughter. To the last words of their call. He prayed that this hairbrained scheme worked and it would save the world and his little girl, because it sure as hell wasn't going to save him.

Goodbye, kiddo.

Next Chapter

#man of steel #man of steel fanfiction #superman #superman fanfic #superman fanfiction #henry cavill #dr. emil hamilton #fanfic #fanfiction #clark kent

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ammunitionist · 4 years

Text

a small gift brings a little life to king company.

or, ack ack finds a guitar- and hillbilly remembers how to play.

ao3 here | full first chapter under the cut

Ack Ack honestly has no idea what it is for a good minute.

He doesn’t bother to get up to check- never stand when you can sit- so the wooden thing leans, an odd little enigma, just in the peripheral of his sight for the better part of ten minutes. It’s definitely wood, he can tell from the hint of grain at a distance. The angle is just so that the neck looks uniform, that he can’t see the strings at all. It almost looks like a broom handle.

It isn’t that Andy’s never seen a guitar. He’d had a friend in high school who played (just not very well) and guitars were common enough in small town New England. It wasn’t unusual to walk down the street at dusk and hear some old timer picking away at the instrument.

It’s funny to think back on himself, sixteen or so, thinking of anyone as elderly. With the new recruits popping up around him on the daily, he’s starting to feel like an old timer himself.

Ack Ack tries to ignore the odd chunk of wood, get in another nap before sundown, but they’ve been eating good lately. Sleeping good, too. He simply has too much energy to let go of the curiosity.

Without moving- never sit when you can lie down- he calls out to the man sitting closest to him, scribbling in a small book held in his left hand.

“Hey, Sledge,” he asks genially, his hands resting behind his head. “What’s that wooden thing over in PX? I can’t see it all too well.”

Eugene looks up from his book almost too fast, glancing first at Andy and then leaning over to scrutinize the object of interest. Ack Ack stifles a small smile at how eager the mortarman is to please.

“Hell, Skipper,” he says, blinking. “It’s a guitar.”

“Really?” Ack Ack says, almost embarrassed at his lack of observational skills. “Shit, I am getting old. I thought it was a broom.” Sledge laughs, because of course he does, but Andy’s already sitting up, looking directly at the handle of the thing. The neck, he recalls its specific name being. Slender and slightly curved, it looks out of place with the crudely made shipping crates stacked around the PX.

“Is that all, sir?” Sledge asks. Andy barely acknowledges it, too occupied with the discovery. He nods, waving the younger man off with a hand and a vague ‘yes, Private’.

Hillbilly plays guitar. Ack Ack knows because he mentioned it once, and just once, but that’s the kind of information you store away for people you care about. Somewhere in the long list of things Andy knows about Eddie- a list riddled with question marks, smudges, and the not infrequent total censor- is the fact that he plays.

He learned from his daddy, apparently. That was the kind of skill they handed down in the Jones family. Workin’, fightin’, n’ the guitar, Eddie had put it, the end of his cigarette a glowing ember in the darkness. He only really taught me th’ middle one.

Andy hadn’t interrogated, but between that one night and the other things on his list about Eddie Jones, he’d figured out what that meant.

Knowing Hillbilly played the guitar just- always did something to him, something strange. Not like giving him a hard-on, it was never the subject of a sexual fantasy, but some aspect of the idea of Hillbilly’s large, callused hands cradling the neck of an instrument was an image that stuck in his mind. Knowing a man like that could make music- enjoyed it, even- just pushed Eddie deeper into Ack Ack’s heart.

Despite himself, Ack Ack slowly hauls himself to his feet, brushing sand from his palms on the nearly-compromised fabric of his dungarees. No one pays him much mind, just another man wandering towards PX. The Seabees had touched down about a week ago, so the postal exchange is more or less looted, but Ack Ack has no burning desire for candy bars or magazines.

Still, when he gets there, he feigns interest in the dregs of merchandise. Back issues of Superman, a few melted Hershey’s chocolates, a copy of Sports Illustrated. If he beelines for the guitar, the corporal sitting in the corner will definitely upcharge him. Pocketing an extra few dollars was never above the Merchant Marines, and this young man- chubby, blonde, picking something out of his teeth with a Jap bayonet- looks like no exception.

Finally making the wide, lazy half circle to the guitar, Andy feigns mild interest in it, tilting the head of the instrument towards his belt. Upon closer inspection, it’s practically beaten to pieces- the body has a fair few dents in it, and a concerning looking crack runs nearly the entire length of the neck. One of the tuning pegs had been replaced with a roofing nail at some point, poking out like an odd splinter at a not-quite right angle from the headstock.

“You play?” The corporal asks lazily, examining a caught piece of food on the end of the bayonet with catlike self-satisfaction.

“Me? No.” Andy shakes his head, letting the guitar back to rest against the crates. “One of my boys does, though.”

He almost smiles to himself when he refers to Hillbilly as one of his ‘boys’. It’s not unlike calling the White House a ‘big ol’ mansion at 1600 Pennsylvania’.

“He any good?” the blond asks. Andy shrugs, pocketing his hands discreetly. He really has no idea if Hillbilly is any good, but it doesn’t matter much if he is or not. Ack Ack would pay out in spades to see him play even if he couldn’t sustain a single note.

Upon receiving no verbal answer, the corporal takes Andy’s silence as permission to keep chatting. He sighs and sets the bayonet down, kicking his feet up on the shoddy crates nearby. The containers creak ominously.

“That there belonged to Johnson. Buddy of a buddy, or somethin’.”

Ack Ack glances at the corporal in mild interest, mostly playing along in favor of a discount.

“Went lookin’ for some dead Japs to loot a couple nights ago.”

Andy figures what happened before the man finishes his thought, but that doesn’t stop him from clarifying. It’s with a sick glee that Ack Ack only sees in men that have never once seen a friend die in their lives.

“Got blown to hell on a landmine. Skipper said to put the thing in the PX or use it as firewood.”

“Ah.” Ack Ack says, less keen on the conversation than he would be to sitting on a land crab in his skivvies. The corporal grunts in acquiescence.

He almost up and leaves the exchange there and then. What kind of earthly gift would a dead man’s guitar be? Hillbilly’d show no outward insult, likely feel none inward either. Ack Ack can’t begin to express in words the amount of gratitude he feels for Eddie’s tolerance. Still, he deserves better than this.

But where else could he find a guitar in the whole of the Pacific?

“How much?” he asks succinctly, looking up from his boots. He hopes the curtness in his tone reminds the corporal of their ranks, of his decidedly upper hand.

“Seven dollars.” The blond replies, eyes narrowing slightly. Andy has to stifle a scoff.

“It’s not worth more than three, Corporal,” he sighs, nudging the body of the instrument with his boot. “Look at it. Beat to hell.”

“Six.”

“Four.”

“Deal.”

He leaves the postal exchange with the thing in hand, simultaneously lighter than it looks and much, much heavier. Sledge glances up at him with interest as he walks by, glancing between Ack Ack and the instrument.

“You play, Skipper?” he calls out as Andy passes, heading deeper into K Company’s cluster of men.

“No!” Ack Ack replies, a wry smile countering Eugene’s expression of confusion.

Hillbilly never went far from King Company, but he also avoided its center. Ack Ack liked to think he prowled its perimeter like some kind of guard dog, keeping an eye on even the rowdiest of the unit. It’s a reliable kind of safekeeping, one that Andy has come to value more as they’ve moved further towards the mainland. Both for himself and his men, that protection is beyond invaluable.

He’s smoking a cigarette up against some concrete rubble, the slowly setting sun dying his pale brown hair a burnt orange. Between the small ember at the end of his cigarette and the dying light, Hillbilly’s almost golden.

Ack Ack sits down quietly in front of him, the slight sound of shifting rubble enough to garner a glance from his Lieutenant. His eyes catch on the guitar and linger, though, and Andy holds it out- an offering.

“Where th’hell did y’ get that?” Eddie asks, sitting up to take the proffered instrument. Andy shrugs, pulling a crushed carton of cigarettes from his breast pocket.

“PX.” he replies simply, biting one out of the package and lighting it with a quick turn of his wrist.

Eddie turns the guitar over in his lap once, twice, three times, examining it. Andy watches mildly, his eyes catching on the neck of the guitar resting in the crook of Hillbilly’s palm. His stomach warms, just slightly, the sight of the slender thing in his lover’s hand like a hot cup of coffee on a cold morning.

“How did y’ know I play?” Hillbilly asks again, tone slightly sotto with confusion.

“You told me.” Ack Ack answers, mildly surprised that Hillbilly forgot. “A few months ago. Remember?”

Eddie shakes his head vaguely, but his attention has already re-allocated to the instrument. He settles it in his lap, the curve in the hollow body fitting over his thigh. It’s a small guitar- that, or Hillbilly’s just bigger than the last person Andy saw holding one- but he still supports it comfortably.

He runs his fingernails across the strings experimentally, and both of the men wince in tandem.

“Is it broken?” Ack Ack asks, momentarily worried that his gift is damaged beyond utility. Hillbilly snorts.

“Nah,” he sighs, a wolfish smile cracking his face in half. Ack Ack has never quite seen him smile like that before.

Unbothered, Eddie turns one of the pegs in the head, thumbing the top string in rapid succession. The tone wobbles slowly higher.

“Jus’ outta tune. I think I can handle it.”

Andy smokes as Eddie coaxes the instrument into tune, slow going considering the state of it. It’s a pleasant experience, to hear the strings slowly come up to par, and the surprising gentleness with which Hillbilly tunes it brings up the warmth in Ack Ack’s belly to a low simmer. To watch his broad hands dance across the head, fiddling with the pegs, is certainly an odd sight for the middle of the Pacific Theater, but it’s one Andy more than welcomes.

Finally, Hillbilly strums the guitar’s strings again, and even though the sound is unremarkable Eddie seems to find it satisfactory.

“Does it play?” Andy asks, tapping his cigarette on a nearby block to ash it into the sand.

“Well, why don’ we find out?” Eddie grins. He adjusts his hand against the neck of the guitar and strums carefully, a gentle note ringing out from its body. Tension leaches from Andy’s shoulders immediately. Between artillery, rifle fire, and bodies hitting the dirt, it feels like the first soft sound Ack Ack’s heard in months.

“Oh,” he breathes, and Eddie glances up to meet his eyes. They both pause for a moment, holding the gaze, before another smile breaks Eddie’s face and they start laughing. The absurdity of it is captivating. A fucking guitar, here, in a warzone. A flimsy, breakable little thing that somehow made its way to them unbroken. It feels like watching a daisy bloom on the rim of a shell crater.

“Shit, sir,” Eddie chuckles, broad shoulders shaking in amusement. “I didn’t think I’d be seein’ one of these for a long time yet.”

Ack Ack has to grin. The sun had all but fully set in the time it had taken Eddie to tune the guitar, and the long shadows on his companion make the moment all the more absurd, a strangely stark figure against the rubble.

Small fires have started up again throughout the camp. They dot the landscape like little flowers, flames blooming upward into the black sky. Ack Ack and Hillbilly have a favorite, one nearest the Captain’s tent, and relatively sequestered. Them, Haney, and a few select NCOs. It’s a good crowd, and none of them say anything if Hillbilly’s hand drifts a bit close to Ack Ack’s knee, or if Ack Ack’s head dips momentarily onto Hillbilly’s shoulder. They’re still careful, of course, but it’s good to know that a toe over the line goes unnoticed, for virtue of respect or some other unnamed force.

They get up in tandem and wander deeper into King Company, towards their fire ring of choice. Haney is sparking at some dry tinder just as they arrive, coaxing a small flame to life under the larger logs. He glances up as they settle in, eyes falling on the guitar in Hillbilly’s fist.

“The Marine Corp,” he starts, sitting back with a grin. “Must practice leisure with the same fervency as the act of war.”

Hillbilly smiles at him, the exact same accommodating smile Ack Ack gives to the Gunny when he starts his tangents. Ack Ack settles back, shifting in his seat.

“And in that leisure,” Haney continues, a wolfish grin splitting his weathered features, “Each Marine must be invested in his brother’s recreation as well as his own.”

Eddie nods, equal parts amused and obliging. Haney gestures at the instrument.

“Play us a goddamn tune, Jones.”

Eddie adjusts the guitar in his lap, fingers hovering over the fretboard in hesitation.

“I, uh, I ain’t played in a long while,” he starts, but Ack Ack nudges his side at the same time Haney gives him a genial wave of the hand. No one minds. Even bad music will be the first melody any of them have heard in months, other than the terrible raucous ballads that swell up among the men sometimes. Ack Ack tolerates those songs for the morale boost they are, but he never feels an impulse to sing along.

Hillbilly arranges his fingers against the fretboard and strums quietly, picking up a lazy pattern. Ack Ack watches his nails hit against the strings, his strong fingers even further golden in the firelight than the dying sun. He has the same sheen as a bronze statue, like the ones Andrew had seen in the greens at Bowdoin.

Eddie swaps the chord, pausing for a moment in between. He swears under his breath, obviously frustrated with his apparent rustiness.

In the protection of the shadow between their bodies, Andy presses a supportive knuckle into Eddie’s side, up underneath his jacket.

His skin is warm to the touch.

After a few minutes of fumbling around the frets (and growing gradually bolder), Hillbilly pauses, letting his arm fall from the guitar’s neck. He swipes the back of his hand across his nose discreetly, glancing around the circle to gauge his company’s apparent tolerance. Ack Ack follows his gaze, just to realize they’d accumulated somewhat of an audience. Five, maybe ten of the enlisted men from a nearby group had heard the quiet strumming and crept up on the edges of the firelight to listen. From where he sits, Andy can recognize Burgin and Shelton, meaning Sledge probably isn’t far.

“Why don’t you fellas come and join us?” he calls genially, gesturing for the men to have a seat, instead of crouching in the semidarkness like a bunch of house cats. They start, with the guilty countenance of children caught in the cookie jar, but move into the light anyway.

“Instead of standing out there like a bunch of Peeping Toms, at least.” Andy murmurs, settling in subtly closer to Eddie. From what he knows of the men, they’re either dumb as a bag of rocks or queer themselves, so there should be no issue with their standard dance on the edge of obviousness. He knows Hillbilly probably isn’t happy with the added volume, but Ack Ack figures it won’t do any of them much harm for a little

entertainment.

“Just play them one song and I’ll make ‘em leave,” he murmurs into Eddie’s neck, making it look like a subtle stretch on his part. “Promise.”

Eddie sighs, shifting uncomfortably, but Andy knows that he’ll do it. He knows that Eddie will do anything when he asks like that.

It makes his heart stutter a bit in his chest.

The strings squeal faintly as Hillbilly leans back, tongue running over his teeth while he considers his options. “Any of you, uh, heard’a Midnight Special?” he asks tentatively.

“I have,” Snafu interjects, drawing most eyes in the circle to him. His accent is deeper than Hillbilly’s, and his drawl makes his Is into long, lazy ‘ah’ sounds.

“Can’t sing, though.” he adds, picking something from his teeth.

Someone snorts. Ack Ack’s pretty sure it’s Sledge.

“Well,” Eddie sighs under his breath, nearly contemptuous, but he doesn’t finish the thought. Instead, the guitar starts up again, and everyone settles in a bit closer. The fact it’s music would probably interest most of them alone, but Andy has no doubt most of these men would pay real money to hear their very own Lieutenant Jones sing a ditty.

The introduction to the song lasts for a while, a simple and slightly jaunty chord progression, but right as Ack Ack is starting to think Eddie’s stalling he opens his mouth and he sings.

His voice is nothing special. A gentle, sweet tenor, making up for lack of range with modesty. It’s about the voice expected of a man who played music as a child and fell off, being as his instrument of choice is not included in the provisions of a Marine.

It may be nothing special to everyone else in the world, but to Andrew, it’s fucking magical.

“Yonder comes Miss Rosie,” Eddie intones, over the soft notes of the guitar. “How in the world you know.”

All at once, some otherworldly tiredness sinks into Ack Ack’s bones.

It’s strange, though, to call it that. He had felt exhaustion before- Hell, almost every single day since their landing on Peleliu- but this is different. Hillbilly’s voice makes him want to rest, to tuck his head into the crook of Eddie’s shoulder and let his voice carry him away to gentle oblivion.

“Well, I know her by the apron,” Hillbilly carries on, a loud pop from the fire interjecting in the middle of the lyric. No one so much as jumps. They’ve all been through worse. “And that dress she wore.”

“What kind’a dress?” Someone calls, to quiet chuckles. Ack Ack smiles faintly. If there’s nothing else to be said for King Company’s crude banter, it’s at least endearing.

“Umbrella on her shoulder, Piece’a paper in her hand.” Hillbilly sings. A couple men have joined their circle since the song began, ones apparently more familiar with the music the Lieutenant grew up on. Their voices join in slowly, crooning the ballad towards the smoke rising into the black sky. Andy doesn’t mind- with his proximity to his lover, Eddie’s voice easily overpowers the rest.

A few more lines pass like that, slurring together in a pleasant melody in the Captain’s head. He has to fight to keep his eyes open, but he doesn’t struggle after fixing them on Eddie.

His curls burn amber in the firelight, same as the angular plane of his cheek and just the barest corner of his jaw. With his eyes closed and lips parted, Hillbilly looks like a fucking fever dream of a man.

“Let the Midnight Special,” They all sing at once, loud enough that Andy’s pulled from his momentary reverence. Even Snafu joins in, apparent vocal ineptitude nothing but another one of his little quips.

“Shine her light on me.”

Ack Ack watches the smoke from the fire carry sparks up towards the stars.

“Let the Midnight Special,” he joins in quietly, a second after realizing the lyric repeats.

“Shine her ever-lovin’ light on me.”

#WOOH this one is long for my usual ballpark #over 3k words in just the 1st chapter #it's a lot for me #the next chapter will b up in a few days! pinky swear #andyeddie #andrew ack ack haldane #edward hillbilly jones #Snafu Shelton #eugene sledge #the pacific

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george-mackay-macfine · 4 years

Text

First Kiss

"She here yet?" I turned to Andy, my best mate. We were throwing a small party at our flat tonight. I was lurking across from the door waiting for the girl I'd fallen head over heels for to show up.

"Not yet." I turned back, bringing my corona up to my lips eyes not leaving the front door, as another group entered. Still no Y/N.

"What are you going to do when she shows up?”

"I dunno.”

"Talking to her would probably be a good step. She's still writing that script, why don't you talk to her about that…"

"Do you think she'll want to talk about that?”

"Sure, don't see why not." Andy leaned on the wall. "What if she doesn't come.”

"Then I'll probably end up getting hammered and walking to her flat.”

"Again." Andy chuckled. "At least last time you weren't that drunk that you couldn't think on your feet.”

"It still wasn't the best excuse," I mumbled, already knowing where Andy was going with this. "But she brought it, for the most part.”

"And what was the excuse again?" Andy shrugged his shoulders. "I seem to be drawing a blank…"

“Andy."

"I'm serious, just want to make sure that you don't use the same one again.”

"Why are we mates." I groaned and threw my head back against the wall. "I believe it was something like, 'I'm sorry I thought this was my house.'... God, I'm an idiot.”

"Nah, just a lovesick fool. Look who just walked in." My eyes snapped open, walking through the door was Y/N and Elissa her best-friend. They were laughing already. Y/N had a bottle of whisky in her hand, carrying it down by her side as she greeted one of our many mutual friends. God, she looked perfect, hair curled down her back, and her outfit, the thing I liked about Y/N amongst others is that she always looked amazing. She never overdressed, but she never looked too casual. "She looks fit tonight.”

"Andy..." Andy held his hands up in defence against my warning.

"I'm just saying." He chuckled. "ELISSA, Y/N." He hollered across the room. "Welcome ladies." The girls started to make their way over to us, pushing through the crowd.

"What the fuck are you doing," I whispered harshly.

"Shut up. I'm getting you closer to what you want." Andy held his hands out waiting for both girls to tuck themselves under his arms. "Look at you two, looking lovely as always.”

"Thanks, Andy, George" Elissa smiled wrapping an arm around me in a quick hug. "Good to see you back in the motherland.”

"Yeah, good to be back." I released her and looked at Y/N. "Hey Y/N." She smiled and unwrapped from Andy and launched at me. Arms wrapping around my waist.

“Ned Kelly, is that you?" She joked before pulling back to look at me. "It's so good to see you again." I chuckled as she kissed my cheek. "How are you, Georgie?" I nodded my head, not trusting my voice.

"How about a drink? I've got four shot glasses in the kitchen with our names on them." Andy grabbed onto Elissa. "Follow me.”

—-

"Just go up and talk to her George." Elissa, Andy and I were sitting on the lounge, looking right at Y/N being chatted up by none other than Troy, a half friend of mine and Andy's. The guy you invite him to parties, but not the guy you really want the girl you're interested in chatting to. "What have you got to lose?"

"My dignity," I mumbled picking up another corona. I took a swig as I watched Troy help Y/N up so she was sitting on the kitchen counter, legs dangling off the edge.

"You lost that the night you showed up to our flat, off tits," Elissa muttered. Andy chuckled under his breath. "I'm sorry I thought this was my house..." Elissa mimicked me, falling into a round of laughter with Andy.

"Why am I friends with the two of you." Andy wrapped an arm around my neck and pulled me into him.

"Because Elissa and I are the types of people who'll go distract Troy over there so you can snake some time with Y/N." Without another word the pair got up and walked over to Troy. Elissa started their conversation, jumping right in. She ran a hand up and down his arm, laughing at all the things he said while Andy placed himself between them. I watched as Andy made a drink motion to Troy and Elissa, practically dragging him away from Y/N.

"Fuck it," I muttered standing up, corona left forgotten on the floor by the lounge. "Carpe Diem," I mumbled remembering something Charlie once told me on the set of The True History of the Kelly Gang. I walked up to Y/N smiling as I stood in front of her. “Shot?"

"A shot with the George MacKay, who am I to say no." She giggled, winking as she picked up two nearby shot glasses. I reached around her and grabbed a bottle of Whisky and a bottle of Vodka, holding them out for her to pick.

"Whisky, definitely the whisky." I unscrewed the cap and made quick work of pouring the two small glasses to the top

"Salute." We chanted before throwing the shots back. "Another." She demanded, legs swinging on the bench. We repeated the process three more times before we switched to a slightly less potent mix. "I'm glad your back Georgie, London hasn't quite been the same..." She held onto my hand. Eyes wide with excitement. "But you don't seem happy. What's wrong?”

"What was Troy talking to you about?" I moved in closer to her, so she could talk without needing to yell. Her mouth rested by my ear, breath tickling the skin every time she exhaled.

"He wanted to ask me something." She replied, her legs wrapped around my waist and pulled me into her. Her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly. "I'm sorry, I need a George hug, it's been far too long. Being deprived of the best hugs in the world..." She whispered into my ear.

"What did he want to ask you." I pried further hoping she was drunk enough to tell me without asking questions trying to ignore the sensation of her skin lighting mine on fire with every touch.

"He wanted to ask me out." That piece of utter shit. "I told him I couldn't because I would be too busy." She continued.

"You're busy these days then?" I mumbled, holding onto her. She smiled and nodded her head.

"Too busy being infatuated with you.”

“What."

"I like you George, as stupid and as blind as you are, I really like you." I pulled away, watching her.

"You like me?" She nodded her head, biting down on her lip.

"A lot." She looked down at her outfit, the tight jeans and the deep plunging shirt. "Why do you think I'm wearing this obscene thing for? It's not just cause' I've got great tits." I looked down at them, smirking as she spoke. She did indeed have a great rack. "Its because I was hoping that somewhere in that beautiful head of yours you'd realise that you like me as I like you.”

"I do like you." I held onto her face, running my thumb over her perfectly plump lips. "I've had this nagging bloody crush on you for the last year." She giggled. "Do you know how annoying it was when you were dating Trevor." I pushed some hair behind her ear. "I mean what kind of fucking name is Trevor.”

"Let me tell you, moaning George is a lot more fun." I took a step back, shocked by her admission.

"And how would you know that?" She shrugged innocently. Bottom lip slipping between her teeth for only a second.

"I have to keep myself busy while you're away somehow." She giggled again. "No point flirting if I didn't get to flirt with you."

"Are you saying." I spared a quick look around, making sure no one could overhear the words I was about to say to the woman in front of me. "That late at night, when I've been away you've touched yourself thinking of me.”

"If you don't kiss me, I think I'm going to have to go off by myself and take care of myself again." She didn't even flinch when my arms encircled her waist, pulling her closer to me than I thought I'd ever get her. She didn't offer up any protest when my mouth attached to hers, god it feels so right that everything around us melted away. The loud thumping of the music, the laughter. Nothing else existed. Just her and me.

I could write novels on the way her tongue drags against mine; gently, but with an urgency and neediness that sends shivers through me. And when she moans against my lips it's like a symphony she's performing just for me.

I was the first to pull back and glance around us. Most people are too busy mingling to notice and the thrill is enticing, but she pushes me back, dropping to the floor before tugging me over to my bedroom door. I push it open and push her through the door, hands finding her hips as she pushes me back against my own door.

"This private enough for you?" I ask she musters up a quick nod before she's moving back in, running her fingers through my hair as I deepen the kiss.

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A/N: If you have a prompt you want to be filled let me know.

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #George MacKay fanfic #George MacKay Imagine #Reader Fandic #George MacKay Smut

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let-me-write-shit · 4 years

Text

Somebody To You: 2

A/N: Another long one!!

Warning: tiny itty bit of smut (mostly implied)

Word Count: 6,051

Click Here For Previous Chapter & Other Completed Stories

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CHAPTER TWO

The first week in LA was a weird adjustment for Zoey. She wasn’t expecting to be missing home so quickly and she often found herself feeling guilty for being here without her best friend - not that she didn’t want to be with Nancy and Aurora. Honestly, she hit the jackpot when it came to her roommates. Nancy was the funniest person she had ever met which came in handy whenever Zoey found herself feeling down. All she had to do was be in the presence of Nancy and a weight was lifted by the distraction Nancy gave.

Aurora, on the other hand, was the yin to Nancy’s yang. She was the calm to the chaos. Still, Aurora found herself fairly busy with photoshoots and meetings. But she’d always make time at the end of the day to have a little girl’s chat before Zoey left for work.

Zoey found she didn’t really have many conversations with her roommates about her home life. It just never came up. And it never felt like the right time to bring up Jess. She didn’t want to scare them away by crying or unloading all this burden on them. Their friendship was still so new. However, she did find out the situation between Harry and Aurora after some prying.

“It’s just flirting,” Rory blushed.

To which Nancy scoffed, “You text practically every day and eye fuck each other whenever you’re in the same room.”

The girls laughed and Aurora shifted in her seat, eyes sparkling, “He’s so hot.”

“Why aren’t you dating, then?” Zoey asked.

Aurora took a sip from her wine glass, “I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about it. I don’t know if he even wants it, and to be honest, I don’t know when we’d even find the time. I mean it’s Harry Styles. He’s gorgeous. You’d be stupid not to want to date him. But...we’ve been talking for weeks and I feel like there hasn’t been any progress.”

“So just tell him you want to fuck and get it over with,” Nancy shrugged, mouth full of mac and cheese, causing Aurora to throw a pillow at her.

Zoey’s new job at the bar has been going really well. She had been training with a guy named Andy. Andy was Zoey’s saving grace. He had a beautiful espresso complexion, short dark hair, and stood a lean six feet tall. You couldn’t deny his attractiveness or his likeability. And he was so easy to open up to. Andy was the one thing she needed to help her come out of her shell. And he wasn’t afraid to call her on it, either. He is the only person in LA, so far, that knows about Jess and the only person to see her get emotional. Zoey had confided in him one night on break about how the two had gotten into an accident in which her best friend had died and how she was trying to use this fresh start to try adapting Jess’ positive outlook and adventure in her life. Thankfully Andy didn’t make her feel uncomfortable by bringing Jess up again. Instead, as a gentle reminder, whenever he noticed Zoey starting to shy away from something, he’d always shout over at her ‘Girl, you better give me that J-energy!’, which instantly put her back in the zone.

She had also met Brett at work, a tanned and muscular Australian man who wore baseball caps over his short, tweed brown hair. He was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. Brett was definitely a flirt, but respectful of individual boundaries and was overall a pretty nice guy who took a liking to Zoey.

“Girl, we both know he’s hot,” Andy whispered to her one night, eyeing Brett at the other end of the bar who was helping out a couple of attractive girls with their drink orders. They batted their eyelashes at him as he laid on the charm, “If he was gay I’d snatch him right up. You should see what he has to offer. We’re going to your little welcoming party tonight. Invite him to come after his shift….and then invite him to cum,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

Zoey gasped, smacking him with a towel before helping the two guys who just sat down at the bar. She poured their beers and placed it on napkins while having a bit of small talk before looking back and forth between Andy and Brett.

Andy grinned, crossing his arms, “I see that J-energy sparking in your eyes. Go on, girl.”

He was right. Zoey hasn’t been with anyone since Michael. She came out here to live and let go. That’s what Jess would want for her: to have fun. Zoey tightened her ponytail and headed over towards Brett who had just finished wiping down a section. He smirked when he saw Zoey.

“I was wondering when you were going to give me the time of day today,” he joked in his thick Australian accent. That accent alone was the reason women gave him such big tips.

Zoey wrinkled her nose, forcing herself not to back down, “When does your shift end tonight?”

“Midnight,” his eyebrows furrowed in amusement, a tilted grin forming on his perfectly tanned face, “Why?”

We should still be going strong by then, she thought, and said, “Some friends are throwing me a welcoming party at Secrets tonight if you wanted to stop by. They rented out a private room for karaoke. Andy will be there.” The two looked over at Andy who wiggled his fingers in a wave and blew them a kiss.

Andy chuckled and nodded, “Well, if Andy will be there, so will I,” he joked, turning back to face Zoey with a smirk, “Are you going to save me a dance?”

“Buy me a drink and we’ll see,” she winked, walking back over to Andy who’s jaw dropped, impressed.

“Fuck it up, sis,” he snapped, giving her a proud hug.

Normally Andy and Zoey would work late shifts, overlapping with the second half of Brett’s shift, but because it was her first week there, they wanted her training from noon to 9 PM. When their shift ended, Zoey drove Andy to his house for a quick change of clothes before heading to her place to get ready. Nancy and Aurora were still there, waiting for her. They were introduced to Andy and pretty quickly got along with him as Andy took charge helping them figure out what to wear.

Aurora needed the least amount of help -go figure- wearing a black corset-like lacy bodysuit with flared black ankle length pants and black strappy heels, her brown hair pin straight. Nancy dressed in an oversized fashion nova ‘tired of the bullshit’ t-shirt and thigh-high black heels. Andy advised her to pair it with a leather jacket and to keep her tight curls down. As for Zoey, she got rid of most of her clothes before she moved, not wanting to pack too much clothes in her car and take up room. And she didn’t have time to go shopping yet.

“Girl, what the hell do you expect me to do with this?” Andy scoffed, dangling an old ratty t-shirt he found hanging in her closet. It used to be her ex-boyfriend’s until she took it over because it was comfortable to sleep in. He tossed it to the side and disappeared back into the closet.

“Oh, okay. Okay. I can work with this,” she heard him mumbling to himself before reappearing in front of her, laying articles of clothing on her bed. “There. Get dressed,” he urged, leaving the room.

Zoey slipped into the clothes Andy had picked out for her and stared at herself in the mirror. Although she had never put these particular items together, it reminded her of something she would have worn on nights out with Jess. A white, drawstring ruched crop top with a pair of black elastic waist and ankle cargo pants that had a silver zipper on the thigh paired with black strappy heels. She had been so busy over the past year from shutting people out and working three jobs. The last time she went to a bar for fun and not work was the night of the accident. It felt unnatural to be doing this again.

“Hurry up, Zoey! We’re gonna pre-game!” Nancy called.

Zoey quickly powdered her face to get the shine away and re-slicked back her ponytail before joining the girls and Andy in the kitchen, earning whistles from the three. Aurora slid her a shot glass and a chaser and they all clinked their glasses together, cheering and downing them. The alcohol burned, running down her throat and the bitter taste brought her back to the night of the accident.

“Brett is gonna drool when he sees you,” Andy smirked, eyeing Zoey up and down, earning inquisitive looks from the girls.

“Brett?” Nancy’s eyebrow raised, “Who’s Brett?”

Zoey bit her lip, slightly embarrassed, “A guy we work with. He’s coming tonight.”

The four of them carried on the conversation in the uber on the way to Secrets. There was a line out front, but after a word with the doorman, they were let through and made their way to the back towards the private room that was separated by walls of thick darkly tinted windows, the outline of at least a dozen people already there, including Harry who immediately made his way over, greeting everyone while a few people sang karaoke loudly.

“Thanks so much for doing this!” Zoey said, shyly, after introducing him to Andy.

“No problem,” Harry grinned, “Hope you have fun tonight.”

“Oh, she will,” Andy smirked, pulling Zoey into a side squeeze.

Harry watched as Nancy whisked Zoey and Andy away to introduce them to everyone, leaving him with Aurora.

“Drink?” he offered, still slightly nervous around her.

“Yes, I’d love one,” Aurora replied sweetly in French making Harry’s chest flutter.

More people showed up as the night continued on and with each passing drink became increasingly sloppy. Harry had gotten used to people-watching over the years and quite liked to imagine what was going on in other’s lives. He noticed a few things as he sang along to the couple singing karaoke while he was also in a conversation with a friend. Most people were dancing along with the music. Nancy seemed to be flirting with Cade, a guy covered in tattoos that she had some kind of ‘friends with benefits’ thing with. Aurora had finished a drink and excused herself from a group of girls before slipping out of the room, most likely to wait in line for the bathroom. He turned his attention to Zoey and Andy who now had the mics for karaoke and were singing ‘I Love Rock and Roll’ by Joan Jett and The Blackhearts.

He grinned in amusement as the two of them sang with drunk passion, dancing and grinding with each other. It was nice to see the difference in Zoey in the matter of two hours. She seemed to have loosened up and he assumed Andy was the reasoning for it. They seemed like great friends.

People drunkenly sang along with them and he even noticed a group of three guys staring at Zoey and Andy, smiling, clearly amused by them. Harry would bet money that at least one of them would try and talk to her when the song was over. But to Harry’s surprise, they weren’t even given the chance. He saw her facial expression change to something more serious as she handed the microphone to the person next up and whispered in Andy’s ear before walking out of the private room. At first he thought she’d probably be joining Aurora in the long line to the bathroom, but as he looked through the wall of windows he noticed her veer right at the alley way exit and disappear through the doors. Harry hesitated, looking around to see if anyone else had noticed her leave. He turned to Andy to see if his body language would give a clue as to what that was about, but Andy was now in a conversation with another guy, smiling and seemingly flirting.

At first he decided to let it go. Maybe she smokes, though she doesn’t seem the type. Maybe she just needed to get some air. But after fifteen minutes passed and Aurora returned before her, he started to worry.

“Hey. I saw Zoey step outside a while ago and she’s not back yet, so I just wanted to check on her real quick, okay?” he said in Rory’s ear while Nancy loudly sang ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ with a group of friends.

Aurora’s eyebrows crinkled in concern over the news of her roommate, nodding understandingly, “Let me know if you need me.”

Harry agreed and stood up, heading out of the private room and deciding at the last minute to grab a couple of waters just in case before slipping through the crowd and out of the alley door,

It was significantly darker in the alleyway as opposed to out front. And at first the only people Harry saw were a couple making out by the dumpster and a few guys smoking by the door. His heart raced, starting to feel worried when he finally noticed the back of Zoey’s ponytail as she leaned up against the brick wall, a bit past the guys smoking.

“Zoey?” he quietly spoke as he neared her, causing her to jump.

When she turned to face him Harry noticed a fresh tear trail down her cheek that she quickly wiped away, her eyes glassy and bloodshot, and the tip of her nose red, “Jesus! You scared me!” she breathed, clutching onto her chest.

“Sorry,” he sputtered, “Are you okay?”

Zoey sniffled, taking a deep breath to compose herself, “Yeah, I’m fine,” she shoved her phone in her pocket.

“I brought you some water,” he held up one of the glasses for her, looking at her suspiciously.

“Oh, thanks,” she said, surprised, taking the glass and having two big gups.

Harry watched her, contemplating his next words. Her demeanor was so clearly forced and he didn’t feel right just leaving it be and ignoring his intuition that something was wrong. He bit his lip before cautiously speaking, “I don’t mean to be forward or intrusive, but are you sure everything is okay? Because I noticed last week you seemed a bit upset. And then here…” he trailed off before saying, “You can talk to me. I’m a good listener.”

Her bloodshot eyes searched his face making his expression soften even more. She took a deep breath, feeling caught and embarrassed, “I’m sorry. I’m not normally an emotional person. It’s just been a really hard year,” she admitted, taking another sip of water.

“How so?” he inquired, relaxing into the brick wall beside her.

Zoey paused for a moment before speaking, “Last June my best friend and I went to celebrate on her birthday,” she took another breath and continued, “And on the way home a drunk driver hit us. She didn’t make it.” Her gaze stayed down, afraid to look at him, and Harry felt a pang in her chest as she continued, “Moving to LA was always a dream of ours. Her moreso. She wanted to be an actress. And she could have made it, too. She was beautiful and so talented.”

Harry could hear the sincerity in her voice, and although his heart broke for her, he admired the way she spoke of her friend. “I’m so sorry, Zoey. What was her name?”

“Jess,” she looked up at him, feeling a sense of comfort in Harry’s eyes.

“Jess,” Harry repeated, “Well I’m sure you were lucky to have each other. I can understand how you must be feeling right now. When my stepdad died we were a wreck. Emotions circled through angry to sad to okay and back to angry again.”

Zoey nodded, relating to his words, “She should have been here doing karaoke with me. ‘I Wanna Dance With Somebody’ was our go-to,” Zoey let out an upset laugh in remembrance, “We always took karaoke too far. She was the fun one between us.”

Her giggle made Harry soften a bit more and he said, “I’m sure she’d be proud of all that you’ve done. You seem like you’ve really got it together. And I don’t know, you seem pretty fun to me. I saw you in there. You were having a blast.”

Zoey smiled, “Yeah, I was.”

Her smile was infectious and he stood up straight, nudging her a little, “Well, if you’re up to it, maybe we can sing that song together. I can’t promise I’ll sing as well as Jess, but…”

She laughed, “It’s alright. I’ll try not to outshine you,” she joked, “Thanks for the talk.”

“Of course,” he nodded, feeling a sense of protectiveness building up in him. “I feel like I should hug you. Can I?”

She laughed, straightening up and holding out her arms to which he scooped her into a warm, friendly hug, rubbing her back. He felt her ease into the hug and knew in that moment that he had helped her and his chest felt warm, proud.

They pulled apart and began making their way back towards the door when she stopped in her tracks, turning to face him, “One more thing,” she said, seeming concerned, “Do you mind not mentioning this to anyone? I haven’t told Nancy or Rory about Jess yet and I don’t really want to start this conversation over again. I know it sounds stupid, but I’m just struggling internally about having girl friends again because I don’t want it to seem like I’m trying to replace Jess.”

Harry agreed, “Of course. Promise. I understand. Take your time opening up. I don’t know who you have in your life that you talk to about it, but maybe we can exchange numbers in case you want to talk about her again? Or need some reassurance from someone who’s been there?”

“I don’t really have anyone I talk to about it. That’d be nice.”

They exchanged phone numbers and chugged the rest of their waters before making their way back inside, Zoey following him. He didn’t know what to expect from their conversation, but it wasn’t that. He thought back to all of the people he lost over the years, realizing that he always had a support system that he could turn to that was within driving distance if he needed. Zoey doesn’t have that. She moved across the country by herself and for whatever reason doesn’t feel comfortable talking to Nancy or Aurora about it. He understood. They lived together in a confined space and they were comfortable. She just didn’t want to disturb that discomfort. And as crazy and hectic as his life was with his tour at the moment, he didn’t mind sparing some time to lend an ear if and when she needed it.

He caught eyes with Aurora, who was in the middle of a conversation with Nancy and a few friends, and nodded, trying to subliminally tell her everything was fine. He reached the karaoke machine and politely asked the people who were next in line if they wouldn’t mind if he and Zoey went next, which they allowed.

After choosing their song, Harry jumped up on the small platform and offered Zoey a hand, pulling her up with him and handing her a mic. She grinned at him causing him to smile back. Lucky for her, she didn’t wear too much makeup to cause mascara streaks down her cheek. You could hardly tell she cried if it weren’t for the slightly red eyes. But that could easily be chalked up to tiredness.

The music to ‘I Wanna Dance With Somebody’ started up and the two started bobbing to the beat, Zoey not looking away from him. He didn’t break eye contact, wanting to make sure she was comfortable. But with each lyric they sang he noticed her relax and let loose even more. By the middle of the first chorus she seemed totally in her own world, spinning and jumping to the song as everyone in the room sang and danced along. Harry mirrored her, smiling widely as they got more into it, singing the lyrics to each other dramatically. He spun her around and he laughed as she did the same to him. Seeing her excitement radiate throughout the room made him feel even more comfortable. He was having a blast. This party was an excellent idea on his part. She clearly needed it, and so did he. He could tell that Zoey and him would get along quite well.

Just as they began approaching the last chorus, Zoey’s attention seemed to divert past him and she smiled, recognition stretching across her face. She let go of his hand and waved someone over. Harry turned to see a toned, tan man wearing a fitted plain white tee with the sleeved cuffed, blue jeans, and a black baseball cap hop up onto the platform. Zoey reached her hand out to the man and he took hold as she smiled even wider, still singing along to the song as the man sang and danced with her.

The way they danced and interacted made it obvious that they knew each other and that there might be something going on between the two. Luckily, before Harry felt like a third wheel, Aurora jumped up on the platform with them, a bit tipsy still, but laughing along to the lyrics as Harry danced with her, Aurora’s long brown hair swaying behind her. The girls went between dancing with the boys to dancing with each other until the song ended.

Before he even noticed, Zoey had set the mic down and was whisked away by the Theo James look alike . Aurora tugged at his arm, snapping his attention back to her, and he smiled, setting the mic down and following her off to the side while the next couple began singing ‘Sweet Caroline’. The room went crazy singing along, but Harry got distracted stealing glances at the mystery guy with Zoey. His protectiveness grew. It was odd because they still barely knew each other. It’s not like he had feelings for her in the same way that he liked Aurora. She wasn’t exactly his type. Not that he gathered, anyway. Still, he felt the need to keep an occasional eye on her and make sure she was okay while simultaneously giving his attention to Aurora. They hadn’t spent too much time together tonight which was the whole point of him wanting to throw the party to begin with.

A few more rinks in him and he was feeling the buzz, singing along to whatever was playing and dancing with Rory who seemed to be sobering up. The two of them were more touchy feely this evening than they had ever been and he had a sneaking suspicion of where the night was headed as his drunken thoughts fantasized about what she looked like under those clothes.

By this point, the room had thinned out by almost half. Andy had left with a guy he met earlier, Zoey was still dancing, or borderline grinding, with the mystery guy, and Nancy was making out with Cade, who seemed to be more interested in her than she was of him. Poor guy. A half dozen others gathered around the karaoke machine.

Nancy would occasionally come up for air and take glances towards Zoey and the guy, commenting to Harry and Rory on his attractiveness and wanting to meet him. Nancy wondered aloud if he was the “coworker Andy and Zoey mentioned to them earlier”, though they couldn’t remember his name. They even began to inquire amongst each other if they were flirting or if their body language read ‘just friends’, which was quickly shot down when they shared a kiss. Harry had to admit, the man was annoyingly attractive-almost to the point of intimidation.

It’s almost like she knew they were talking about them, because an instant later Zoey turned her head and caught eyes with Harry. Quickly, he forced his gaze towards Aurora, but she had already caught him staring and the humility set in.

“Hey guys!” He heard Zoey’s soft voice sounded behind him.

Nancy managed to pry herself from Cade and they all turned to see Zoey standing awkwardly beside the guy. Harry didn’t have to look to know that Nancy was smirking at them through her eyelashes.

“Oh, hello,” Nancy sang, eyeing the guy, “Who do we have here?”

Zoey let out an amused laugh and introduced, “This is Brett. We work together at the bar.”

“Nice to meet you,” Brett’s deep voice rang, thick with an Australian accent that Harry had not expected and he saw both Aurora fight and fail to avoid swooning.

“I’m Nancy,” she stood to shake his outstretched hand, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Rory,” Aurora smiled when he turned to face her and shook his hand as he smiled politely at her, his perfect teeth shining before he turned to Harry.

“Hey, mate. I’m Harry. Nice to meet you,” he grabbed Brett’s hand firmly, but was met with a tighter grip from Brett, the tips of Harry’s fingers going white before he broke free. Harry tensed his face, trying not to roll his eyes. Why did men always find the need to assert their dominance by giving hulk-strength handshakes? What did it really accomplish?

Nancy rounded on him with a million questions like ‘Where exactly are you from?’ and ‘What made you move here?’ You’d think he was in an interrogation or on a job interview if it weren’t for all of the giggles from Nancy and Aurora. Zoey must have been used to his charm by now as she just watched the interaction in amusement. They were really laying it on thick and Brett was eating it up. It’s like they completely forgot they were standing right next to a celebrity. Of course that wasn’t true, it was just the alcohol talking, and Harry felt guilty for even feeling an ounce of jealousy about the attention Brett got. He’s just fresh meat; a new face.

Zoey shuffled where she stood and looked like she was having an internal argument when she finally spoke up, looking at both Nancy and Aurora, “Hey, uhm, Brett and I were thinking about heading...back to our place...if that’s alright?”

The girls stared at her, processing the words before their mouths formed an ‘o’. Harry’s eyes widened, unsure if he should have been listening to this conversation. The spark of protectiveness he felt earlier began to crackle up his spine again and he found himself staring intently at Zoey’s face to make sure there wasn’t any hint of intoxication that would put her in a position to be taken advantage of. He must not have hid his expression well because Zoey noticed his glare and she blushed, avoiding his eyes. Understandably, too, because she seemed entirely sober.

“Girl, please. You don’t need our permission to get laid,” Nancy joked, making Zoey and Brett laugh.

“Were you coming back, too?” Zoey asked the group.

“Was that...an invite?” Nancy coughed.

“It could be,” Brett winked.

He was joking, but it also sounded like he could have been serious. Zoey slapped his chest with a little chuckle and said, “No, just wondering if we should all uber back together.”

“Yeah, I could go,” Nancy said, before turning back to Cade who had been silently waiting for her to make out with him again, “You coming over, too?”

His eyes lit up and he shook his head yes. They all began walking towards the front. He felt Aurora’s expectant eyes on him, waiting for him to say something. Her buzz had worn off by now, but unfortunately his was still lingering, causing delayed reaction time. The thought of going to her place, knowing there were two other couples having sex only feet away, wasn’t the kind of situation he wanted to be in the first time he potentially got intimate with Aurora. Thank god he had his own place in LA.

“Do you want to come back to mine?” he whispered in her ear as they stepped outside, the warm summer night air hitting their faces.

She smiled, almost relieved, “Yeah.”

The group chatted on the sidewalk while they waited for their ubers. Nancy had a way of making banter seem normal and comfortable, even if she had just met you. And that’s exactly what was happening between her and Brett. They took friendly shots at each other like they had been friends forever, while Brett had an arm slung over Zoey’s shoulders, holding her tightly into his side, along with Cade who had an arm around Nancy’s waist. Harry glanced down at Aurora who held onto her purse strap tightly, feeling bad that he couldn’t embrace her like their friends were. He just couldn’t risk being photographed like that. Not this early into their ‘relationship’, at least. I mean, he didn’t even entirely know where they were headed yet.

Funnily enough, both ubers arrived at the same time. Nancy, Cade, Brett, and Zoey began climbing into their iber and Harry had opened the door to his for Aurora. He was rounding to the other side when he heard heels clicking rapidly on the pavement behind him.

“Harry!”

He turned to see Zoey jogging up to him, a calm urgency in her eyes. He stared at her, unsure of what to say and she hesitated, a flicker of embarrassment flashed across her face before she shook her head and stood up taller, “Thank you. For tonight.” She bit her bottom lip in uncertainty, waiting for some kind of response and he couldn’t help but smile. That was all the response she needed for her to give him a quick, tight squeeze, her ponytail swaying as she ran back to her uber before he could say anything. He watched as the door closed behind her and the car drove off before he finally got in beside Aurora.

“What was that about?” she asked.

If there was any jealousy or suspicion on her part, she hid it quite well. Though he was pretty sure she didn’t have those kinds of thoughts, especially about him and Zoey. And rightfully so. “Nothing. She was just thanking me for singing with her earlier because she was afraid to do it alone,” he lied, remembering the promise he made Zoey not to speak to anyone about their conversation.

Aurora nodded and nuzzled a little closer to him, causing his heart to flutter nervously. This was the first time they’d been alone together, in person, since meeting. Initial intimacy never got any easier for him, no matter who it was with or what situation he was in. He always got nervous and jittery.

Nancy and Cade decided to go on a late night stroll around their block instead of heading right upstairs with Zoey and Brett. She made it seem casual, but Zoey knew that it was her way of giving them space to avoid any awkwardness when they split ways to go have sex. And Zoey had to admit, she appreciated the gesture.

The elevator ride hummed in an uncomfortable silence as Zoey wrestled with her thoughts, though Brett didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy watching the floor levels light up during their ascent and mindlessly played with Zoey’s fingertips. She could feel her nerves physically weighing her feet down and was sure that if she attempted to move she would topple over. This would be the first time she will have sex since her and Michael broke up nearly four months ago. And she didn’t exactly have a long list of sexual partners. There was nothing wrong with that, but Zoey had secretly always wished that she could have had more experience like Jess had. ‘It’s fun not having strings attached. If the sex isn’t good, you don’t have to see them again’ her best friend always said. But the problem here is that Zoey does have to see Brett again. They work together.

She wasn’t trying to make excuses. It’s not like she didn’t want to have sex with Brett. Who wouldn’t? He’s by far the hottest guy that’s shown any kind of interest in her..and that accent?! She just worried that she would be a little rusty.

Brett must have noticed her hestiance, because as Zoey punched in the code to unlock their condo door and slowly pushed it open, Brett lightly grabbed her forearm, causing her to spin and face him.

“Zoey, we don’t have to do this, you know,” he accent made Zoey’s heart race and his sincerity even more, “I can head out if you’d like.”

She stared into his face, darting from one eye to the other in brief contemplation. She could hear Jess now. ‘Have fun, but be safe’. She made up her mind and grabbed Jake’s shirt, pulling him inside and allowing the darkness of their condo to swallow them as the door closed behind them. The city lights through the wall of windows barely illuminated their figures from where they stood at the entrance.

This move excited Brett and he backed her up against the hallway wall, smashing his lips onto hers. It was forceful and messy as they struggled to find each other’s rhythm, but exciting nonetheless. She felt Brett’s hands wander from her sides and down to her hips before he bent down and picked her up effortlessly so that her legs were on either of his heps, pressing her back up against the wall for a little more support. Zoey let out a gasp of surprise and squeezed onto his rock hard biceps. No one had ever done that to her before. And she had never been more aroused.

“Bedroom?” His voice was deep and full of hunger as he attacked her neck.

“Last door on the left through the living room,” she managed before he continued on through the apartment, carrying her.

Everything about what he was doing excited her more and she could feel herself pulsating, eager for more. She nibbled on his ear and suckled the base of his jaw as he carried her through the doors of her bedroom. Thank god she had tidied up a bit before leaving because as soon as he reached the end of her bed, he tossed her onto it like a ragdoll and swiftly pulled his shirt up and over his head to reveal every acth and bend of his tanned abs before climbing in and hovering over her smashing his lips onto hers again.

Their tongues danced and they wrestled with each other as they continued trying to find their movement, hands roaming all over each other. Brett pulled Zoey into an upright position, only breaking their terribly chaotic kiss to slip her shirt off, exposing her bare chest before she fell back down, her breasts bouncing from the force as he roughly yanked at her pants, struggling to pull them off to reveal her cheeky baby blue underwear.

“Condom?” she panted before he could reach for them next. “Do you have a condom?”

Brett froze before frantically searching his jean pockets. Relief washed over his face as he pulled out a square metallic pouch and shook it in the air for her to see. She nodded and while he struggled to pull his own jeans off and slip the condom on, Zoey’s mind wandered, wondering how her other friend’s nights were going. Would the guy Andy met be a new fling or just a one night stand? Had Nancy gotten back with Cade yet? Was Aurora finally having her first time with Harry? Surely they were, why else would he invite her over this late? Was it just as awkward for them as it was for Zoey? Were they enjoying it? Did it come naturally to them? Or were they still getting in the swing of things like her and Brett? She’ll have to talk to the girls about it tomorrow.

Zoey grinned, grateful to have friends again.

KEEP READING

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