#(on another note I can’t watch the new episode until Friday but I’ve been seeing the gifs and I am EXCITED | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ramp-it-up · 4 years

Text

Sundancer

Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Minors DNI, Some pictures, Angst, Pining, drinking, explicit language, oral sex (female/male receiving), love fluff. All errors my own.

A/N: This an ask from @honeysucklechocolatedrippin from the 100 smut prompts ask list. I got caught up with this one because I went back to the Show Runner AU. I kinda love these two. Hope you enjoy. Read Show Runner.

-------

This press tour was going to be all work. No play.

Those were the strict rules that you were given.

This was the premiere film and television festival and January in Park City could be a fun, wild place and time, but you were on the clock.

There would be no open flirting, touching, or even covert fucking while the cast was there.

You listened to the lecture and smiled and nodded when appropriate.

Truth be told, you really weren’t paying attention, just waiting on your knees, naked and wet, to suck the shit out of his dick.

When he gave you permission to of course.

You were determined to suck all those stupid ideas out of his brain along with all his cum when he gave you the chance.

And Rafael was, indeed, without much coherent thought when you were done.

_____

Wednesday

That conversation was of no consequence to you four days later when you landed in Park City.

Daveed and Rafa had been there for two days and the rest of the cast was trickling in.

You gathered your bag while answering a few questions from the paps and headed to your hotel alone, following the driver who held your name up outside baggage claim to a luxury suv.

You texted Rafael that you had landed, to which he just replied, “Good.”

No, ‘how was your flight,’ nothing.

You sighed, assuming he was busy.

He had been texting you nonstop for the past three days and now he wanted to play you.

That was cool.

You relaxed as you took in the snowy scenery of snowy Park City.

You were taken to a stunning tiny little chalet at the edge of the city and halfway up the mountain.

The views were spectacular, the cute cozy kitchen fully stocked, and the fireplace was bomb.

As you took in all the antler decor, you texted Rafa again, hyped at the accommodations.

This is dope!

You made sure your cleavage was right in your v-neck sweater and took a selfie of you from above in the bedroom.

I can’t wait to be on my knees for you later.

You saw the thought bubbles, but no response.

Cool cool cool.

If that’s what he wanted. That’s what he would get. Ice.

You shook your head and looked in the refrigerator for water. You also found your favorite snacks.

Production thought of everything. You’d thank Gwen later.

You relaxed on the couch until it was time to get ready for the mixer.

The car was ready to go at 6:45, in time to get you fashionably late to the Television mixer at the Waldorf Astoria at 7.

Because of all the traffic, you didn’t arrive until 7:30, but you were chilling. You spotted your crew immediately, partly because they were the loudest.

You loved this new family you made.

“Ayyyy! What’s cracking! We thought you’d never make it. Late flight? You want a drink?”

You laughed at Daveed, seeing that he was on his way to getting lit.

“I’ll have what you’re having.”

He raised his cute ass eyebrow at you. “This grown folks shit. You sure?”

“Yes. I’m grown. I need to catch up to you! I misjudged the time to leave my chalet. What time did you all leave yours?”

“Ummmm. I walked downstairs like 20 minutes ago. The whole cast is staying here. You’re the only one staying on the other side of town.”

“Oh.”

You didn’t know what to say as Daveed turned to go get your drink.

You looked around and saw a lot of actors you’d love to work with, some you already had, and some you knew to stay away from.

You spotted Rafa’s golden hair on the other side of the room.

You weren’t going to go after him, and you didn’t need to, because some of your cast mates enveloped you and Daveed brought you a drink.

You were having too good a time to worry about Mr. Artistic Integrity.

You two circled the room, never really ending up in the same place. You finally saw him with Gwen and got a chance to talk. Rafa saw you approach. He nodded.

“Hey, Long time no see. You make it in ok ?”

You looked at Rafael for an extra beat. He’d seen you up close and personal three days ago when you’d ridden his face.

But you were an actor. You could play this game.

“Hey Casal. Yeah, I got a few hours ago.”

You turned to the logistics producer.

“Gwen! My chalet is so dope!”

She raised her eyebrow at you.

“That’s great! So, you wanted peace and quiet and away from the rest of us, ay?” Gwen laughed as you and Rafa smiled politely. You were seething.

“Trying to avoid all the parties. I get it now, although I thought it was weird that you declined accommodations.”

“You know our girl, always a loner.”

Rafael took a sip of his drink, looking at you over it. Your blood boiled but you turned and smiled at Gwen.

“Yeah. On my INFJ shit. What’s the lineup for tomorrow?”

You made small talk to avoid cussing Rafael the fuck out. He stood there for a minute, listening and being an adorable muthafukin asshole.

Other people came up and you didn’t even notice Rafa step away. But you spotted him, in a corner with that little twat Ava with the tight little body. Just his type.

He saw you stalking out of the mixer as he chatted her up.

—-

Two hours later, you were cozy in the hot tub, smoking some kush to relax, scrolling your phone.

A TMZ post from your explore page caught your eye.

There was a picture of Daveed, next to Rafa and Ava, who looked pretty close and fucking beautiful together.

The gossip site gushed over the picture of the Bay Boys, noting the ‘adorable couple’ and their mingling at the mixer and somehow sneaking in a not so subtle hint that they were staying at the same hotel.

That was the final straw. You saw it all. Rafa wanted you far away from him while he fucked this little miniature Bratz doll. Bet.

It was only midnight. You were going to get your own plastic action figure for the night.

——

Thursday

The next morning, you met up with the crew at the suite which was set up for the series press day.

You went straight to Chelsea who was set up in the bedroom of the suite.

You gave her a hug and took off your sunglasses. Your eyes were puffy.

“Damn girl. You did have fun last night. I got just the thing for those circles.”

You breathed a sigh of relief and let her work her magic.

You emerged ten minutes later and went and got something to eat and a bottle of water from the catering station set up in the kitchen. You watched D and Rafa charm the interviewer.

You took a deep breath. You could do this.

Ten minutes after that, you find yourself sitting in a chair with the cast lined up, somehow seated next to Rafael.

As the first interviewer was setting up, you got comfortable in your chair. Being a professional.

“I see you had fun last night.”

You looked over at Rafael as if surprised to see him there.

“I’m sorry?”

He smirked at you.

“I said it looks like you had fun with Michael last night.”

He held up his phone and you squinted at a post of you and your new friend, a highly sought after actor who had been in one of Rafa’s favorite movies.

The pic was from after you went back out to the club last night. You were hugged up close.

You looked in his eyes and saw that he felt some kinda way. He had some fucking nerve.

You smirked.

“Yeah. He’s really truly a dope person. Not just beauty, but brains too. I love an intelligent man. We… talked all night.”

Rafa’s smile slipped. You sat back and put on a megawatt smile for the reporter.

The entire day was filled with your secret shots and animosity toward Rafa.

You couldn’t wait to talk to him in private and tell him not to call your cell phone ever again.

Reporter: “This show has many complex relationships, and you are at the center of two of them that are just developing as the series begins. What do you do to ease into a new relationship?”

You leaned back and crossed your legs.

“That is a great question. Let’s just take an example of, say, meeting someone at... a club?”

Daveed leaned in front of Rafa and said, “This is not a true story from last night by the way.”

“Of course not,” you quickly replied and winked. Everyone laughed, everyone but Rafa.

“What I’ve found recently that works wonders is: ‘Oh my god you’re so much better than the last person I was with.’”

Everyone was dying laughing.

Rafa choked on his water. You leaned over and patted him on the back. “You good?”

He just glared at you. You shrugged and kept it moving.

“No, but really. You should start off in a relationship where you can be open and honest. There’s really no relationship if you can’t have that.”

Rafael cleared his throat, but you refused to look at him.

The press day continued.

After eight hours of interviews, you were ready to get out of there, so while Rafa and D were playing host, you managed to get out and to the car.

You were exhausted of the tension.

On your way to the chalet, Rafa texted you.

‘We need to talk.’

You huffed. Now he wanted to talk.

Well, tough shit.

You blocked his number.

You couldn’t function like this right now. You and him could break it off next week in LA. He was right, you were on the clock.

That night at the Midnight showing, you sat with Michael.

Might as well try to have some fun. The paparazzi were snapping lots of pictures with you two.

While Mike took a quick interview, you made your way to the bar alone.

“You’ve not answered any of my texts. Or my calls.”

You rolled your eyes at Rafael.

“You’ve texted and called?”

You shrugged and took a drink.

“Look. We can do all that back in Cali next week. Gotta keep it professional here, isn’t that the deal?”

You downed your drink and walked back over to Michael, Rafael boring a hole in your back.

He left you alone after that.

——

Friday

The next day and night were much the same, a cast interview and screening of two episodes during the day and another industry party at night.

Rafa being so busy made it easy to stay away from each other.

You got back to your place with a bottle of tequila about midnight.

You were flying out the next day and you should have some fun, even if it was not what you’d envisioned before you arrived in Park City.

You hated Rafael Casal.

But you refused to cry. Again.

An hour later, you looked up from your drunken haze to see Rafa standing over you.

He looked so damn good in this dream.

“You shouldn’t drink a whole bottle of tequila in a hot tub, especially alone.”

“What the fuck do you care? You’re probably fucking Ava ten ways from Sunday right now.”

Dream Rafa raised his eyebrow at you and shook his head.

“Why would I want to fuck Ava?”

“Right? Especially when you could have all this.”

You stood up, almost falling and showing off your wet, naked body. You giggled as he appreciated you, his eyes sweeping down your body.

Dream Rafa moved closer to you and grabbed your hand as you wobbled.

“Let’s get out and get you some water.”

He helped you out and wrapped you in one of the huge white fluffy robes that you’d found in the closet.

He led you to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

You drank, your head clearing, but just a bit.

You kept staring at Dream Rafa, who was regarding you steadily, a weird look on his face.

When you finished, he walked you to the bedroom and watched as you lay down. You looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was 1:30 am.

You opened your robe and turned to see Dream Rafa in bed with you.

“How convenient. I’m so so horny Dream Boy. Haven’t had any dick since last week.”

You untied the robe and grabbed your breasts, squeezing them and rolling your nipples, arching your back.

Rafael watched you hungrily.

“Help me to get off. Fuck me, Dream lover. The real Rafa doesn’t want me anymore…”

You moved your hand down to your core and started playing in it, moaning and watching Rafa watch you.

As he licked his lips, you brought your hand up and let him taste the wetness on your fingers. He hummed, then took your hand in his.

“Not like this. I want you. Fully present and clear headed. But I want you. And we need to talk.”

He kissed the palm of your hand and covered you with the robe again.

You groaned and turned away from him.

“Even the Rafael of my dreams reject me? I can’t believe I’m in love with such a jackass.”

You didn’t feel Rafa pull you close as you started shoring.

—

Saturday

You woke up alone, mad at the sunlight. Your head was pounding.

Your mouth was parched, but you found a bottle of water on the bedside table.

You grabbed it, grateful that you got it on the way to the bedroom last night.

As you sat up and drank, you groaned as you thought back to your dream.

You had to get him out of your system.

You got up and went to the kitchen, halfway expecting to see him there.

You sighed with something that must have been relief when he wasn’t there.

You took your water and some grapes to the little kitchen bar and sat there, eating and drinking slowly with your head in your hand.

You jumped when you heard a key in the front door and stared when Rafa let himself in.

“Look who’s up. Bet you’ve got a doozy of a headache.”

You just continued to gape as he put his bags down on the counter. He handed you a bottle of aspirin.

“You’ll need these.” He put some pedialyte in front of you. “And this.”

“Wait. Did you just let yourself in? With a key?”

“Yeah. This is my chalet. I own it.”

Your mouth dropped open.

“I thought you had a hotel room.”

“I do. This is business so production put the cast up there. D and I decided to join.”

Your heart clenched at the fact he did not want you there too. What was this reality? Then you thought about the dream.

“Wait. Were you really here last night?”

You were confusion.

Rafa smiled at you.

“You want something to eat? Gotta get something in your stomach besides tequila and grapes.”

You groaned and held your head at the realization that last night was not a dream.

“Fuck. Did I say all that? Did I do all that? Out loud?”

You peeked at him through your fingers.

That smile. “Yeah.”

You were mad. He looked to fucking happy.

“Well, don’t take it personal. I was zooted. When I’m sober, I hate you Rafael.”

He frowned. “Are you sober now?”

You opened the bottle of aspirin and drank some pedialyte.

“Unfortunately, yes. Very sober.”

Rafa moved next to you.

“I’m going to come closer so I don’t have to yell.”

He tipped your chin up with two fingers.

“I can’t believe I’m in love with a fucking brat.”

You were ready to fight.

“I’m a brat? I’m a BRAT?”

You leaned back, your hands on the counter behind you to get some space from the electricity bouncing between you.

“You ignore me as soon as I land in the same city as you, and then you put me out here in this secret hideaway so you can fuck with that Ava chick.”

You closed your eyes because you’d be damned if you cried right now.

“I thought we agreed that we’d talk to each other before we tired of each other and got with other people?”

Rafa leaned close to you, caging you in with his arms on the counter beside yours.

You could barely breathe, the emotions were getting the better of you. You just wanted to kiss him.

“Who told you that I fucked Ava?”

This time you raised your chin on your own.

“No one had to tell me. I saw the pictures of you two together. I can read, Rafa.”

“Not very well in this situation, I’m afraid.”

Rafa shook his head and looked down. Then looked back up at you with those damn eyes.

“You also don’t listen. Did you even hear what I said? I just said I love you.”

You just stared at him.

“Wait… what?”

Rafa brought his hips closer to yours, standing up tall. You wanted them on you.

“I love you, you fucking brat. Why would I want Ava when the woman I love has all this.”

And he reached for you, opening the tie on your robe. He sighed as he moved his hands on your brown skin. He was home.

“I want you to listen. Listen before you jump ahead and try to argue.”

You were about to say something and clamped your mouth shut at his warning glance.

“I told you, this was work. And we agreed not to go public with our relationship yet.”

He saw you wanting to protest.

“We agreed.”

His hands spread against your stomach, thumbs on your warm nipples.

“I wasn’t ignoring you, I was controlling myself. I wanted to meet you at the airport, but the paps are swarming.”

Rafael's blue eyes were now dark.

“And I didn’t stash you away because I wanted to fuck Ava, but because this is my home and I wanted you in it.”

Rafa finally kissed you, and you took his tongue in your mouth, wanting to own a part of him. Your moan while you kissed was getting him even harder.

“And when you sent me that picture of you in the bedroom, I wanted to run over here and take you in every room, but I couldn’t. Still working. Just had to jack off when I could. To that picture.”

You moaned as his words made you drip down your thigh.

He pressed his pelvis to you and you could feel how hard he was. You took a ragged breath and forced your hands to remain on the counter.

But you looked up into those burning blue eyes. You were wet and ready.

“It was killing me knowing that you were so close, sleeping in my bed without me, naked in my hot tub without me, and that I couldn’t touch you, hold you. Fuck the shit out of you. Hear you scream my name.”

“Tire of you? God, I wish I could get tired of you. I want you all the time, I can hardly function when you’re not around.”

He kissed across your collarbone to the other side of your neck. You were definitely weak.

“I was coming over that first night, but I saw you going out. To the club. Where it seems you hooked up with Mike.”

Rafa bit down on your pulse point.

“Rafa, I…”

Rafa licked the spot he just bit.

“Shhh. I know you didn’t get with him, but you were a bit of a bitch at the Q and A day. And then you took him to the midnight screening.”

Rafa was appraising your body possessively now.

“You tried to make me think that you were with him; that he was touching you like this.”

Rafa grabbed your breasts and squeezed your nipples between your fingers. You arched into his hands.

“It was like you were teasing me.”

His hands moved down your torso and around to your ass, squeezing and pulling your cheeks apart and ghosting your intimate parts with his fingers.

“You know I don’t like to be teased.”

He released you and took two steps back, leaving you feeling bereft.

You were panting in the middle of his kitchen. You felt what it was like to be teased.

“Rafa, I’m sorry. Please…”

Rafa was two steps ahead of you. He was pulling his Oaklandish hoodie over his head. Then he shook his head at you.

He bent his head to your breast as he lifted it roughly to meet his lips. He drew your hard bud between his lips and grazed it with his teeth.

Rafa nipped and sucked your flesh roughly as he licked the fingers in his other hand and reached between your legs.

“Did you want Mike to touch your cunt like this?”

“No...only you Cash…”

He traced his fingers between your wet lips, causing you to shudder and moan. Then he started to tease your clit.

“Tell me what I want to hear. Tell me you love me.”

“I..I…” You didn’t know when it happened, but it did. “Fuck it. I love you Rafael.”

You sigh in relief and with desire as he pushed his fingers deeper into you.

He moaned softly in your ear as he pressed you back against the island.

“Good girl. Now tell me more. Tell me you love what I’m doing to you right now. Tell me you love this shit.”

“I love it so fucking much,” you squeaked, holding on to his shoulders for dear life, your nails digging in.

As he pumped his fingers, you wriggled and started to grind against his hand. As you wriggled more, he cursed under his breath.

“Fuck! Stay still.”

His tongue licked up and down your neck as his hand went faster and faster, playing you like an instrument.

You were getting so close, and Rafa could feel it. So he stopped and stepped back again, panting while he tasted his fingers and leaving you quivering and emotional.

You refused to beg, but he knew what you needed.

“I want to punish you for not listening to me and your heart, but I can't because I’d be punishing myself.”

He walked toward you again, put his hands on you and slid down your body as he knelt before you.

Rafa looking up at you like that made you fall in love all over again.

He leaned forward and kissed your lower lips oh so tenderly. Then, he licked them, and you had to hold on to the counter again. Then he started talking.

“I’ve been hard for you ever since you texted me that you touched down.”

He kissed each of your thighs and lifted one up and rested it on his shoulder. You were not ready.

“I was so pissed off all day. Until I saw you that night.”

Rafa lightly licked a long stripe between your legs.

He pulled back and looked at your pussy, as if entranced.

“But, I stayed away from you at the mixer because I knew I would drag you to a bathroom and bend you over the sink…”

Rafa slowly rolled his tongue over your slit. You held your hand over your mouth as you watched him.

He looked up at you and chuckled.

“No close neighbors. Let me hear you.”

He sighed as he looked at you again.

“I wanted to take you in the bedroom at the suite during the press day and put your ankles around your ears to dig out that attitude.”

Rafa licked you again, making you tremble and moan loudly.

“I decided to come and give you an ultimatum last night, but I get here and you were so cute and drunk and said that you loved me.”

He graced you with a smile. You smile back and brush his hair out of his eyes.

“I know you said that I don’t own you. But you own me. Body and soul. I’m starving for you.”

And then he dove in, making you gasp as he eagerly parted your lips with his tongue and started to flick it back and forth over your clit, grasping your ass and your leg to support you and keep you in place.

This time he didn’t stop. He licked and sucked and swiped, his head moving back and forth as he ate. He did it until your eyes rolled back into your head and you were screaming his name. He increased his pace and intensity until you were a quivering, moaning mess.

You come on Rafa’s face in the middle of a ski chalet in Park City, Utah.

You were still quivering as you watched him stand up, take off his shirt and wipe his face with it.

“So, you can take your flight back to LA in a couple of hours, or you can stay until Monday and we can be seen together tonight. In public.”

Your face lit up as he led you to the bathroom. You were catching on.

“And we will be ‘good friends’ for a few weeks until we let on.”

“Now, you’re listening.” Rafa was smiling wide now.

“Wait, does Diggs know about us?” Rafa started taking off his pants. You needed what was inside.

“Nevermind. I know the answer, Jackass.”

You ignored Rafa’s laugh as you began to make up for lost time.

-------

Read the next part, Scene Stealer Tagging:

@theatrenerd86 @lonelydance @sillyteecup @ohsoverykeri @theselilwonders @theatrenerd86 @sebastianabucknettastan @imatyoursurrvicesurr @riiyy @ivycomet @lonelydance @jbrizzywrites @curtainremote @biafbunny @summerofsnowflakes @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @peaches-and-mangoes @delaber @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @einfachniemand

#Rafael Casal #rafael casal imagine #Rafa smut #rafa imagine #rafael casal fluff #rafael casal x reader #rafael casal x black reader #rafael x mc #rafael casal angst #rafael casal x oc reader #rafael casal smut #rafael casal x Actress! reader #show runner au #bay boy #100 Smut prompts

115 notes · View notes

tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 4 years

Text

Trouble, Trouble (Part 2) | Javier Peña x Murphy!reader

Summary: You’re Steve’s little sister and show up to Columbia for a visit. You catch a certain DEA agent’s eye.

A/N: I’m so sorry for the delay. I haven’t felt like writing and there’s been a lot going on at home. I finally got to writing this and I hope you all like it. It’s been a while since I’ve watched an episode of Narcos, so if i’m a little off character, apologies. Also, please ignore any grammatical errors. I read over it like three times but sometimes errors get through. Hope y’all like it! xx

!! It’s got some flashbacks in the beginning that might be triggering, so proceed with caution. !!

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

** Rules for Requesting **

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS (@ithinkwehitametaphor - owner is listed below the bottom of the gif)

You’d met Tony at one of the nightclubs in Miami. You were working as one of the entertainers for some extra cash when he’d took a liking to you. He started coming in every couple of days, making sure to leave a good tip for you. You hadn’t thought much of the cash. Cash was cash at this point and it was more than enough to cover your debts. However, Tony had come back a month later with a new group of guys, this time cocaine under their belts, which at the time you had no idea about.

Tony cornered you one night and asked about you wanting to make extra cash. Again, cash was cash and you were naïve. Your instincts should have been better considering who your brother was. You were to take the boxes which were to be delivered every Friday to other night clubs surrounding the Miami area. Rule was, no looking in the boxes. Just deliver them to the night clubs and leave it with the bouncer. You figured it was easy enough.

However, two months in, 8 deliveries total, you became brave and curious. What was this guy getting you to deliver? Why was it so secretive? Where was he getting the cash to pay you every week, especially the large sum that was delivered to you the next night after a delivery was completed. These are questions you probably should have asked yourself before getting into this situation, but again, you were naïve. You peeked into one of the boxes one night and there wrapped inside was cocaine. You knew right away, you were dealing with a drug cartel and there was no escaping now. The next night when you saw Tony, you told him you didn’t want to do deliveries anymore.

“You don’t want to do deliveries no more?” He’d asked you with a cigarette between his lips. It was you, Tony and two other guys in a private room. He never came without backup. Yeah, Steve had taught you self defense, but to take on three guys, who were all carrying guns? That was a death wish.

You shook your head, “N-no.. I.. I want to work here on Friday nights again.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, flicking the cigarette against the ash tray and bringing the cigarette to his lips again, “You stop making deliveries when I tell you to.” He stood and took a step closer.

However, when you stepped back, your back hit the chests of the two men. You gulped as you stared up into his dark and soulless eyes, “I just.. I miss my girls on Friday’s you know?”

He stared at you for a few moments before he gave a signal to his boys. The two men grabbed you by the arms and held you against them as Tony lifted part of your skirt and pressed the cigarette but into your skin and burning a small hole into your thigh. You’d cried and screamed against one of the man’s hands.

Tony gripped you by the chin and made you look at him, “You’re in this now, chica. There’s no escaping. You do deliveries until I tell you stop. You understand me?”

You whimpered against the man’s hands and as he dropped it so you could answer, Tony’s fingers gripped your chin even harder, “I said, do you understand me?”

“Yes.” You whimpered. The men’s grip on you loosened and you fell to your knees in a sobbing mess.

He had not been stupid. He knew you’d looked into those boxes. He also knew you were too scared to say anything. Especially when he personally delivered a note to your door that threatened to kill your family and that he knew you’d seen the deliveries. However, you were smart. You worked under a different name and he had no idea who you truly were. It was an empty threat.

You spoke to Steve a few days later during one of your routine checkup calls and you’d mentioned coming to visit. That’s when he told you no; Columbia wasn’t a safe place for you. However, you figured it safer than having to face Tony again. At least you would be with your brother. He could protect you right? Or would you be making a mistake and bringing danger to him?

“Please tell me there’s coffee.” You mumble out as you walk into the kitchen.

“Geez, you look rough.” Steve snickers into his mug.

You flip him the finger and make a face at him, “asshole.”

“Here is a cup and creamer is in the fridge.”

You gratefully take the coffee mug from Connie, “You’re a saint.”

A knock sounded on the door. “Probably Peña.” Steve comments before calling out toward the door, “Come in!”

“I smell coffee.” Javier says as he walks into the kitchen, slipping passed you he takes in your messy hair. You hadn’t slept well at all last night. “Damn, you look rough.”

Your mouth is agape as you stare at him. The balls on this guy, “Yeah well, so does that mustache you’re trying to grow.” You bump shoulders with him as you stalk passed him.

He holds a hand to his heart, “Ouch.” Connie and Steve can’t help but chuckle at the jab. He proceeds to make his coffee, “You want a ride to the office?” He directs his question to Steve, but you pipe up.

“Oh, can I tag along?”

“it’s not bring your little sister to work day.” Steve answers, “You’re gonna hang out here with Connie. Don’t want you roaming the streets and get lost or something.”

“Uh.. I have work today, remember?” Connie says, pointing at the calendar on the fridge, “it’s been written on the calendar for a week!”

“Damnit.” Steve mutters, “Fuck.”

“I’m not a little kid. I can handle being home alone.”

Javier leans against the counter and sips his coffee, “Why couldn’t she come? We haven’t had a lead in weeks and we’re probably going to be doing paperwork all day anyways.”

You raise your hand into the air, “Um hello, not a child. I can take care of myself. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Just let him baby you. Makes him feel better.” Connie teases Steve and gives him a kiss, then rounds the counter to give you a hug, “See you guys tonight.”

“I don’t get a hug or kiss?” Javier holds his arms out.

Connie rolls her eyes at his antics and blows him a kiss, “That’s as close as you’re getting to me. There’s no telling what diseases you have.”

The three of you finish your cups of coffee and you stand, “Let me get ready then we can go.”

“Hurry up or we’re gonna be late.” Steve takes the mugs and washes them out as you head to the bathroom to shower.

Javier can’t help himself as he watches you saunter to the bathroom. You can feel his eyes watching you and decide to tease him a little. A little teasing never hurt anyone. Leaving the door cracked, he can see your reflection in the mirror. He leans forward to get a better look around the wall, just in time to see you pull off your shirt and shut the door.

When you arrive at the Embassy, you three walk directly back to Javier and Steve’s desk. “Not too bad.” You comment looking around. You spot their board filled with photos of what you assumed were cartel members. Some had red X’s over their photos, indicating they were dead. There was a column for Columbia and another column for Miami. Your eyes scanned over the different photos.

“We shut down this group last week.” Javier boasts, pointing to the group of men on the left.

You nod, “Connie said Pablo was always one step ahead.”

Javier sighs and leans back against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest, “Yeah. The fucker is quick. I think we’re getting close though.” He points to the right side of the board, where Miami column was located, “Found out a few members are working in Miami.”

Your breath catches when you see his photo pinned to the board.

“His name is Tony. From what we know, he’s the one who delivers the cocaine to various clubs around Miami.” He could tell by the look on your face something was wrong.

Your face had gone pale, like you’d seen a ghost. You knew he was in the drug cartel, selling cocaine, but what you didn’t know was he was working alongside Pablo Escobar.

“Hey, are you okay?” Javier takes a step toward you and gently grabs your elbow.

You gulp and nod, trying to shake it off, “yeah yeah.. I’m fine.” You definitely were not fine. You were in trouble.

Narcos tag list: @neymarlionelmessi7 , @weirdowithnobeardo , @1950schick , @xremember-me-notx

*if your name is crossed out, tumblr is being stupid and won’t let me tag you.

136 notes · View notes

florrickandassociates · 3 years

Text

TGF Thoughts: 5x02-- Once there was a court...

Season five is off to a great start. I’m feeling more energized about TGF than I have in ages, maybe since the beginning of season three. After the mostly standalone premiere, I wasn’t sure what to expect from the rest of the season. Episode two introduced a lot of new elements that I’m intrigued by and excited about, so here’s hoping the rest of the season can sustain that energy. (Many) more thoughts under the cut.

And, again, since the most consistent thing about Tumblr is its inability to roll out new features that are actually helpful, here is a link to view the post so you don’t have to read it all on your dash. (Omg, Tumblr, not only do you force people to keep reading on their dashes but you also jump down to the middle of the post when the full version opens? Do you have ANYONE beta test these features?)

Reddick/Lockhart is bustling when the episode opens. The fact they’re calling it Reddick/Lockhart seems like an indication that Liz chose to partner with Diane—it's not. The firm just needs a name, and it can’t have Boseman in it. (The signage still says RBL... for now.)

Everyone in reception is talking animatedly, except for Carmen Moyo, who’s just taking it all in. You might be tempted to read her as nervous. You would be very, very wrong. But we don’t know that now. Right now, it wouldn’t be wrong to assume she’s Maia 2.0. This scene strongly parallels Maia’s first day at the firm (opening with the reception saying “Good morning” and the firm name, then showing new associates waiting for an orientation by David Lee). And in that scene, Maia is absolutely nervous, like you’d expect a new hire might be.

Carmen focuses on another associate’s hand. I assume this is meant to be a parallel to how Maia fidgets with her rosary ring in that initial scene. Carmen then peels a price tag off her portfolio—possibly another Maia parallel, since the portfolio Diane gives Maia is such an important symbol in Maia’s arc.

I also see shades of Alicia and her first scene here—Alicia's silent and focuses on small details (the thread on Peter’s jacket) too.

I don’t say any of this in hopes of comparing Carmen directly to either of those characters. Carmen is not like any other character this show has had before. But these parallels are quite good at establishing character, building intrigue, and showing contrast (even if you don’t see them as parallels, we’re still getting a lot about Carmen just from watching her reactions, even if we don’t yet have the context to understand how to read Carmen). Since I’m now thinking about Maia and Alicia, I’m also now thinking about how Carmen is different from them and triangulating her spot in this universe—that's a good thing. She’s not a copy of either character, but I understand a little more about what the writers are telling me about her from the parallels.

The RBL sign in the background is being taken off the wall. It falls and adds even more chaos to reception.

David Lee walks in and screams, “Stand up! Those seats are for clients.” This is the exact same language he uses in the 1x01 scene; this is definitely an intentional parallel.

Btw Carmen already has more personality than Maia and she’s been in one episode so far! I didn’t hate 1x01 Maia, but I will say that nearly everything that intrigued me about early Maia was that I could project more about Alicia (whom I, obviously, care a lot about) onto her. I can and will compare Carmen to Alicia, but when I do, it won’t be because Carmen is an interesting lens through which to analyze Alicia... it will be because Alicia is interesting precedent to use to understand Carmen.

I still hate Maia, yep.

David Lee accidentally instructs a client to stand and then has to save face, heh.

In David’s tour of the office, we see the partners squabbling. Sounds about right. And STR Laurie is still a thing, which explains why David is there (though not why he is giving a tour).

Throughout the tour, we get a lot of shots of Carmen. Again, she’s silent and looks like she could be nervous. (Spoiler: this is a fakeout and when you rewatch this scene, you can see what new cast member Charmaine Bingwa is doing here—expertly putting on a face that looks like anxiety in one context, but is actually just Carmen calmly sizing things up.)

Marissa eagerly joins the tour. “That’s right. They’re letting you play lawyer, Marissa. How nice,” David says. Carmen takes this in, too. “Fucking prick,” Marissa mutters. Carmen hears.

David Lee introduces “someone from HR” which is a great sign that HR is very effective at this firm.

In the conference room, the partners are still arguing about who should replace Adrian. Diane tries the “all options are open to us and we plan to decide in the next 48 hours” strategy, but this audience is too smart for that. Madeline asks about the new leadership structure. (I am kind of hoping that one nice side effect of having to kind of shoot the season in a COVID bubble will be that we’ll get more small recurring characters. Madeline’s been around for a little while but we’re already seeing her get to do more this year.)

“Diane and I are going to run the firm together. For now,” Liz says. Oh, no, Liz, do not open the door to change. Letting the partners know you’re not sure is probably the worst strategy. You’ve gotta decide or they’ll sense weakness.

“Just the two of you? A black firm being run by a white woman?” a partner asks. “Well, I’m not running it alone. I’m here to assist Liz,” Diane says, trying to deflect. “Really? Because she needs assistance?” he counters. Diane doesn’t know what to say, but she and Liz both know these questions aren’t going to go away.

HR is running an orientation for the new hires and it involves having them all take pieces of toilet paper. Man, I hate ice breakers. Carmen takes a moderate amount and then passes it to Marissa, who takes only one square. Carmen notes this and makes eye contact with Marissa. And this is where it starts to become obvious that Carmen is not nervous—just observant and not chatty. Carmen knows Marissa is one to watch from how David reacted to her presence. She gives Marissa a look that’s meant to be noticed and start a conversation. It works, and Marissa explains that for each square you take, you have to share a fact about yourself. Carmen hates this and hides the rest of the toilet paper so she only has one square.

Liz tries to say there will be a discussion about the partnership, and Daniel (that’s what the captions call him, though they do reference him as “Barry” at one point but I'm like 99% sure I know which actor is Barry and it’s not him) says it feels like they’re just being told what the new state of things is. Liz says she hears him but right now they need a senior associate to backfill Lucca.

Daniel doesn’t think they need one. I don’t get why, unless it has to do with the budget cuts.

“We need someone with real experience to take on her caseload,” Liz notes. Hell yeah you do!

Liz asks if any of the partners want to take over family law. None do.

After the meeting, Liz asks Diane if she can call a head hunter. Diane approves. David Lee pops up to ask which one of them is taking Boseman’s office and they haven’t discussed it yet. I love that they managed to order a sign with their names on it before they’ve talked about how being partners will actually work.

(Also, Adrian’s office is quite obviously going to end up with Liz. And it would be weird if it were Diane, anyway, because it’s Diane’s old office from Lockhart/Gardner and it would look it if she sat there again lol)

David notes that an empty corner office looks like failure. He is correct. He gives them until Friday to decide.

Marissa does not like the ice breaker at all and pointedly notes she only has one secret, and it is that she used to be married to a mime. She makes a whole bit out of it and then whispers to Carmen, “I usually just make things up.”

Carmen’s next and she finally gets to speak her first words of the series. You know who else didn’t speak at all in her first scene? Alicia Florrick. Very different scenes, but I can’t help but think this is intentional. From what I’ve seen of Carmen, both she and Alicia use silence strategically and are comfortable with quiet. Alicia’s first scene is silent because she doesn’t need to use words to be expressive, but it does establish that she’s going to be a character with a lot of internal thoughts she won’t vocalize and that she’s observant and tries to maintain composure. Sure, you can watch the first scene of Pilot and just see a woman who’s stunned into silence, but when you watch it knowing Alicia and realize how much of the essential parts of her character are in her totally silent intro sequence that kicks off the show... it’s kind of amazing.

So comparing Carmen’s introduction to that? I mean this as a huge compliment. Carmen deploys silence for reasons both similar and different to Alicia. While Alicia uses silence to maintain some kind of boundary between her inner thoughts and the outside world, Carmen uses it to get a chance to observe and take things in without showing her cards. (We do see Alicia do that as well, especially at work, but I would call this a side-effect of Alicia being a quiet person rather than her intention; Carmen seems to be more conscious of how she uses her silence.)

Carmen is from Victorville, California. That means nothing to me but I’m sure there’s some significance. Carmen mimics Marissa’s response when asked for her secrets—she also responds with, “secret,” emphasizing she only has one. But what she says next also shows her in contrast to Marissa. She says her secret is she hates games. We already know so much about her and she’s said like ten words!

I think it’s smart to set Carmen up as a contrast to other characters. I know who Carmen is not because of how she differs from more familiar presences like Alicia, Maia, and Marissa. Marissa hates ice breakers, but her reaction to them is to use them as an opportunity to say something funny and over the top. Many others (including probably both Alicia and Maia) would likely resent the activity but play along and say something unremarkable (I could see Alicia overthinking it and sharing something surprisingly quirky though!). Carmen just does not give a fuck, and in a different way than Marissa doesn’t give a fuck. Marissa insinuates that she thinks the whole activity is stupid... Carmen just flat out says it. I would not pull this move on my first day of a new job! And that is the point—who is this person who is so self-assured she’s willing to insult HR on her very first day of her very first job as a lawyer?

ALL OF THIS FROM A FEW WORDS AND SOME WELL-ACTED GLANCES! As I said, I’m very intrigued by Carmen. I have some questions about the logistics of this plot, her endgame, and how she’ll function when brought into the firm drama/debate plots, but for now, I only have good things to say.

Liz interrupts the ice breaker to announce that everyone will be assigned a mentor. She then pauses to greet Marissa, which Carmen, again, notices. Liz is really there to say that they’ll be working on client maintenance that day, and each new hire will get to help with one of their clients. When she reads off their top clients, all the hands shoot up—except Carmen’s.

Madeline’s last name is Gilford. Noted. John’s last name is Wilson.

No one raises their hand to assist with Oscar Rivi, who is in a maximum-security prison. Carmen confidently raises her hand.

Barry’s last name is Poe. Noted.

Marissa and Carmen exchange glances. Super curious to see how this evolves. There are too many Marissa/Carmen exchanges in this episode for the writers to not plan to have them interact more in the future.

I’m kind of loving that it seems like the show’s leads are now Diane, Liz, Marissa, and Carmen. Diane’s obviously great, Liz is someone who’s been deserving of leading material for ages, Carmen seems interesting, and I’m so impressed they have managed to make Marissa, usually good in small doses, into a character who can handle larger plots without wearing on my patience (like that awful Elsbeth centric episode of Wife).

Diane has a client who received a summons directly, which Diane finds strange. But, since she is already working with this client on the same case (teaching kids during COVID) in another court, Diane is optimistic about this second suit. She thinks it could set a good precedent.

Diane introduces Phoebe, an associate who will help out on the case. Diane says she’s not personally going because it’s a formality and Diane needs to work on the brief. I’m like 99% sure Diane isn’t personally going because Diane’s role here is to convince the client she’s getting senior-level attention while having junior people do the work, but nice story!

Diane asks Marissa to go along with Phoebe. Marissa thinks she’s going to get to argue in court... Diane says no, Marissa gets to hand hold a client.

Oscar Rivi is basically Lemond Bishop, which is the only explanation I have for why RL would represent him. And, you’ll recall, I didn’t understand why RL would represent Bishop either. But we’ll just have to go with it.

(I think representing multiple drug lords is probably a bigger PR issue for RL than having a white partner! How come no one ever talks about this! Actually, new complaint: wasn’t Liz, who now has more power than before, the one who was most against representing Bishop?)

(I guess it may make sense that she’d be more okay with this Rivi dude than Bishop. Whatever Rivi’s done, I don’t think he’s threatened Liz’s kid like Bishop did!)

(Also, I’m fine with them switching it up and suddenly having this new drug kingpin. Mike Colter is obviously unavailable since he’s a lead on Evil, and I was tired of Bishop anyway. If the writers stop using Bishop and Sweeney as shorthands for corruption I will be very happy; I don’t think there’s much more mileage left there. Speaking of, Dylan Baker popped up in 2x02 of Evil!)

“I don’t want you to be intimidated,” Barry tells Carmen as they arrive at Rivi’s prison. Carmen reads articles about Rivi on her phone, saying she’s taking notes. Barry tells Carmen to “sit, listen, leave.” But then he discovers his ID is expired (he didn’t get it renewed during the pandemic) and he can’t go visit Rivi as a result. Carmen says she’s fine alone—she'll sit, listen, leave. She’s calm and not at all cocky as she says it, and it really takes until she’s actually talking with Rivi to realize that she’s not (just?) a hypercompetent law school grad trying to impress. She doesn’t seem to care at all what people, no matter how powerful, think of her, as long as she’s able to find security of any sort. (Tbh, it is kind of amazing she doesn’t get fired in this episode.)

(I’m getting ahead of myself but in Alicia’s first ep, she also changes up strategies on the partners. Alicia does it almost without realizing she’s gone against their wishes—she's just sure of the right strategy—and Carmen does it much more intentionally.)

Marissa and Phoebe can’t locate Judge Wackner’s court. Marissa asks a security guard she’s friendly with (of course she is) for help. He says there’s no Judge Wackner there, and the security guard notices that it’s a summon for a “9 ¾ Circuit.” The guard laughs at the Harry Potter reference; Marissa is not amused. They leave the courthouse when Marissa spots a sign for “9 ¾". She follows the sighs down an alley. Phoebe wants nothing to do with this; Marissa and the client are intrigued. They end up in a store called Copy Coop and are directed to a warehouse.

In the warehouse, an argument is resolved through Rock, Paper, Scissors. Then it’s Marissa’s turn. She asks for a continuance just like she was supposed to, but she uses the wrong phrasing. Judge Wackner notices. That’s when Marissa notes she’s not a lawyer, and Wackner responds that he’s not a licensed judge. So it’s fine that Marissa isn’t a lawyer.

Marissa tries to protest again that she’s not a lawyer, and Wackner basically tells her to proceed anyway. The client wants to stay, weird as this fake court seems.

Carmen reads with Rivi. She stares at him, getting him to speak first. His translator asks if there’s another lawyer with her; she just introduces herself. The translator does a terrible job of translating Rivi’s complaints, sharing very little of what Rivi said with Carmen.

Unsurprisingly (to me at least, because scenes like this ALWAYS have the twist where a character doesn’t let on that they speak the language until the exact right moment), Carmen speaks Spanish.

She lets Rivi know she speaks Spanish AND insults the translator in one go. Pretty big move. That gets Rivi’s attention and he kicks out the translator. He asks who she is and she repeats her name again (characters reacting like this will never not remind me of “Who are you?” “Kalinda.”).

Carmen notes that she’s just out of law school, explaining that’s why she’s eager to help. She doesn’t reveal that by mistake—she's using it to her advantage.

Credits! As I predicted, things are blowing up again this week like normal. No more kittens and puppies. There’s a new couch that blows up in the credits. Wackner’s desk also makes it in. I can’t remember if the purses were in this position before; they might be new. All the exploding TVs show footage of January 6th (which I hear is going to be a major theme of the season, though it’s not heavily featured in this episode). And the zoomed in shot of the closet (that I’ve never really liked) is gone, as is the falling curtain!

I still hate the font of the logo for this show. I also don’t understand why the show seems to have three logos—the one that’s the TGW logo but with “fight”, the one in the credits, and whatever the one they’ve come up with for this season’s marketing materials is. I like that they’re trying with the marketing of this season but I don’t get why the show has three logos.

While I’m talking about the marketing, can we just talk about the “Goodbye Lucca” graphic the official social media account posted? It had a fucking crown drawn over her head like this is a 2013 Tumblr shitpost!!! Who are they targeting with this?! WHO ARE THEY MARKETING TO? DOES THIS WORK ON ANYONE??? It literally says, “Chi-Town” on it. I cringed so hard. Sometimes I feel like the marketing of this show is meant to cater to the people who would, like, watch the credits of last week’s episode and be like, “Yes! It IS all now puppies and kittens! Everything bad in the world has been resolved!”

But hey, at least it’s better than the absolute trash they used to post for TGW. Remember when there’d be episodes about Alicia making career moves and they’d be like, “#TeamPeter or #TeamWill????”

OR, OR OR OR, the fucking time they tried to crosspromote TGW and the Victoria’s Secret Fashion show (yes) with a tweet that read, “All ‘Saint Alicia’ needs is a pair of wings&she practically turns into an Angel.” I... have no words.

Hey, Caleb is back! I was not expecting them to actually wrap up his arc with Liz. I think I’m actually pretty thankful it’s ending like this—he comes back for what I assume is one last episode and I don’t actually have to deal with the Liz/Caleb plot. Apparently the writers were setting that up so they could do some plots about power dynamics and interracial couples and who is seen as having power. Caleb and Liz were going to have an encounter with the police, who were going to listen to Caleb instead of Liz even though this encounter would’ve taken place in Liz’s house and Liz is the name partner and Caleb the employee. Interesting enough, but anything boss/employee just squicks me out and I don’t need it around and Liz deserves better.

But I did like Caleb as a character, so I’m glad he gets an exit, unlike past characters who have just disappeared. (Remember Robyn Burdine? Or that time Taye Diggs was a major character for two seconds?)

Liz was NOT expecting to see Caleb as a candidate for Lucca’s old role. Things are instantly awkward. I guess Caleb left STR Laurie?

Diane immediately senses that things are awkward with Liz and Caleb. Caleb is very professional throughout all this. Diane gets an important call and leaves the room, so Caleb and Liz can chat privately.

Caleb says he thought Liz was reaching out; Liz says she should’ve reached out but things ended abruptly. Love that Caleb checks that no one else is in the room with Liz before getting even more personal. He says they should just act like nothing ever happened between them and Liz asks if he can do that. “I’m the employee. Of course I can,” he says. This is why you don’t sleep with employees.

He says he really does want the job and he liked the firm. Liz says she’ll talk to Diane. Caleb says if it doesn’t work out he’ll be fine.

Phoebe tells Diane about 9 ¾ and Diane does not understand... at all. “If it has no power, and it doesn’t have jurisdiction, what does it have?” Diane wonders.

A little more on the case: RL is representing a woman who taught a small group of students during the pandemic, and some parents are suing her for preaching socialism at the children.

The woman suing did NOT like being called a Karen by her daughter or being compared to the family from Parasite. She wants a refund.

Marissa objects and makes up her own grounds, realizing that since it’s not a real court, she can object for any reasons she wants—as long as they follow common sense.

These scenes could so easily feel ridiculous, like a gag that goes on for too long. They do not. There’s just enough zany humor and theatrics to make the 9 ¾ court feel surreal. And, most helpfully, Wackner is a GREAT judge. He is engaged with the work and only concerned with the facts and arguments rather than politics. He’s tough but fair. He’s direct and he maintains control over his court. He’d be one of the best judges in a normal court. His sincerity is enough to make you wonder why courts DON’T operate like this. It’s easy to see why the characters are sold on this BS-free, rational, and effective system, even if it makes no sense that it would exist and it has no power. It’s simultaneously idealistic (if only things were resolved fairly) and threatening (how can something like this exist?! What does it mean that the real courts are so ineffective that there’s a need for something like this?! What happens if this goes beyond what are basically mediations for simple issues?).

This type of thought experiment is where TGF excels. I think they were going for something like this with Memo 618 (which hasn’t gone away!), but that arc always felt like it was on the verge of going off the rails. Mandy Patinkin’s performance and the writing for the 9 ¾ court already have me more invested in this than I was in Memo 618.

Marissa tries yet again to wait for help to arrive, but Wackner insists that they keep things moving. She tries to stall and ends up referencing George Clooney. Wackner cuts through that, too—he hates speeches “unless I'm giving them, and even then I’m just trying to stall.” Then he holds up a sign that reads, “CUT THE SHIT” and the audience laughs. He says this isn’t the kind of court where you can just run out the clock. Kind of ridiculous that real court IS that kind of court, no? (And that’s why this is an effective device so far.) (I say so far because I have watched content from these writers for long enough to know that things that work in small doses or initially can go wildly off the rails.)

Marissa changes strategies and does what she does best: she goes on instinct and adjusts her strategy as she goes. She eventually catches the woman accusing her client of teaching socialism in a lie about Parasite. It’s very Legally Blonde and very smart of Marissa. And I’m rather proud of myself for seeing what Marissa was doing (getting the woman to commit to a time frame and then baiting her to talk about a moment that proved the time frame fake) before she revealed what she was doing.

Sarah Steele is so good in this scene. I love her smile when she realizes the woman took the bait, and that she reacts with “AHA!” instead of something more proper. This is pretty much the perfect court for Marissa.

Diane and Jay arrive; are confused.

Carmen leaves Rivi after quite a bit of time has passed, making Barry nervous. Carmen tells him very little and repeats that she sat, listened, and left. She told the translator to go fuck himself (almost in those words) so she’s gotta know that Barry will hear what happened from someone. She does not care. She lies to Barry like it’s nothing.

Diane does not understand the 9 ¾ court, nor does she understand why a non-lawyer like Marissa is arguing. She does not understand why losing in this venue would matter or why a lawyer she knows (ha, I looked him up to see if he’d been on Wife or Fight before, and he has... as a totally different character!) is there.

“Okay, I’m losing my mind. Look, this is not legal. We have got to get out of here,” Diane says. Toni, the client, wants to stay.

I don’t actually know the answer to this—would there be repercussions to someone who is a member of the bar participating in something like this? Everyone knows it’s not real or binding, so nothing is being misrepresented, but this FEELS illegal?

Toni notes that a lot of people suing her are there watching, so walking out or losing would look bad. She also likes Judge Wackner because he is “better than the judges in real court.”

“Diane, what is real?” the client asks when Diane points out again that this court is fake. The client’s spent 8 months on this case in limbo, so this feels like reality to her. Fair point.

Diane chats with the other lawyer and asks what he’s doing here. He says he’s getting paid—with business down and court dockets backlogged (how much would that affect a large firm that settles most cases out of court? I’m actually curious about this), it’s a good source of money.

Diane realizes it’s basically arbitration. Then says she doesn’t understand anything anymore. The other lawyer replies, “Sure you do. That’s why this is throwing you. Welcome to 2021.” Yup.

Diane goes with it. A former teacher is on the stand. He’s got a grudge and wants money, so he’s helping out. He tries to say something that is the most obvious hearsay ever... and Wackner has no problem with it. Marissa likes that.

Wackner basically says he’s fine with hearsay because he can use his brain to figure out what’s real and what’s fake, just like we all do every day. Crosstalk is also allowed.

Wackner also doesn’t allow for bullshit breaks where lawyers tell clients what to say, because he “likes the truths found in sudden utterances.” All his rules make a lot of sense. They are all also counter to every single sneaky legal strategy these characters tend to use.

Toni made a comment that she “couldn’t fall in love with anyone who voted for Trump.” That gives a point to the plaintiff. Diane notes that this belief is shared with most of the country, and Wackner asks her if she shares it. “I’m not the question,” Diane replies, because she definitely doesn’t want to talk about her husband who worked in the Trump administration.

Wackner flat out tells Diane that Marissa should argue instead of her. “Marissa is not a lawyer,” Diane tries to say. “Well, I’m not a judge!” Wackner responds. And that’s it for the day.

Diane asks Jay for intel, and then we get one of the most effective Jay scenes in a while—he bonds with the Copy Coop security guard, who only has good things to say about Wackner. I like how the writers use COVID in this episode—they treat it like it’s recent past (fingers crossed) and reference it when it makes sense, like how the courts are backlogged, or this guard was laid off.

The security guard notes that he thinks Wackner is building something good in his spare time. He also notes that Wackner is a big Grateful Dead fan.

Carmen takes it upon herself to visit someone else in prison to help Rivi. She points out they’re under surveillance and convinces this other dude to take the fall for Rivi so he can go free. It’s very smart. I assume this is all her own strategy, as we see her look up this other dude before she’s even met with Rivi, though it’s possible Rivi came up with some of it.

There is something about Carmen’s demeanor when she deals with clients that is very Alicia-like in interesting ways. She’s very direct and unflappable in a way that people seem to take to (remember how all the creeps loved Alicia?), and she only shows emotion when she decides to. The similarities stop there. Carmen doesn’t seem remorseful or conflicted (Alicia always did). Sociopathic definitely isn’t the right word for her, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say it didn’t cross my mind. Carmen knows that her clients are bad guys. That doesn’t trouble her. And she doesn’t try to take the easy way out—she does more than she needs to. I don’t know what she’s really trying to do here, but I suspect she does.

Carmen is 28, just fyi.

Liz gets a call from Charles Lester. Obviously, Lester now works for Rivi, because Rivi is New Bishop. (Usually I’m a bit against saying any character is the new version of an old one, like how Lucca was not the new Kalinda (even if she was brought in to bring new energy to the space Kalidna occupied) or how Carmen is not the new Lucca (same), but I’m pretty comfortable saying Rivi is New Bishop. He’s not the same personality, but he... is New Bishop.)

Lester notes that Rivi only wants to meet with Carmen from now on. Liz does not understand this and she’s not thrilled with it. She notes that Carmen is a first year who has been there for two days, but she doesn’t want to lose Rivi’s business so she goes along with it. Was that Carmen’s endgame? Job security? Does she not care about the RL job and see a good opportunity to... just represent Rivi without a firm behind her? I can’t tell.

(This is where I could see this arc faltering. I get why Liz keeps Carmen on—she doesn’t want to lose the client—but I don’t really understand why Liz wants Rivi as a client. Losing Carmen who’s been there for two days and Rivi who she probably doesn’t want to represent seems like a fine outcome to me. And, beyond that, if Carmen doesn’t care about the firm and also doesn’t need them, what’s in it for her to stay? I don’t think she really cares that the firm would have more resources to use in defending Rivi. Like, why isn’t the outcome here just that Carmen teams up with Lester and leaves RL behind?)

Diane listens to the Grateful Dead and writes down lyrics she can use in court. Kurt gets home from work. Diane asks him if he thinks she should give up her name partnership since it’s a black firm. Kurt asks if she’s the best lawyer there. She says no, but she’s one of the best, and besides, it’s a bad look and she wants to do what’s right for the firm. “You and I disagree on so much. You obviously ask my opinion because you know that I will argue something you know you won’t,” Kurt says. This is a very good, and very accurate, response.

Diane keeps going, though. Kurt plays along and starts talking about identity politics. Diane starts debating back, ignoring that Kurt is not really wanting to play devil’s advocate. Kurt doesn’t give Diane an easy out and tells her she’s right—she should step aside. That’s not what she wanted to hear. Kurt laughs and then goes to take a shower.

Liz is eyeing Adrian’s office when Carmen walks up. She’s invited Carmen to talk to her. She asks her how things are going. Carmen just wants to know if she did something wrong. Carmen says she likes the firm and it’s great to be out of the legal clinics.

Liz shares the news that Rivi only wants Carmen going forward. Carmen is pleased and says that’s surprising... though she looks more pleased than surprised.

Liz suggests maintaining a professional distance, to which Carmen replies “I’m very professional.” “Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Liz tries to backtrack. “Is the firm dissatisfied with my work?” Carmen asks bluntly. Liz says no. “It’s my intention to treat all my clients like humans. Even the ones who might be murderers, or definitely are murderers. And I think Mr. Rivi might be responding to that because it’s something that he hasn’t received at this firm previously,” Carmen notes. This is QUITE the tone to take with your boss.

One question I have—and this is mostly inspired by the recap at I think Vulture?-- is to what extent Carmen knows what she’s doing. It seems like a lot. I can’t tell how much Carmen knows vs how much Carmen THINKS she knows. She’s definitely smart, and I don’t think she is an idealist (when she says her intention is to treat her clients like humans, she means that’s her strategy), but she is young and new to the law and only out for herself, which makes her vulnerable.

Liz does not take well to Carmen’s talk and notes she’s talking about her personal safety. Carmen thanks her and says she’d understand if Liz doesn’t want her on the case.

There is something a little unnerving about Carmen. She keeps saying things that are boldly inappropriate but masked by how professional and correct her arguments sound (like the line about treating clients like humans). And she has a way of gaining power over a conversation. Liz squirms way too much in that conversation and loses some of her control as a result.

I just need to know more about her!!! The fact that I can’t understand her makes her immediately interesting.

Diane and Liz interview Julius for Lucca’s position. They all know it would be a demotion for him, but they’re seriously considering it. I feel like this would look awful for the firm and they are going to handwave it anyway after a few lines about how bad it would look.

Diane quotes the Grateful Dead in court and it works. The other lawyer tries to quote songs too... it does not work.

Carmen gets Rivi a bunch of candy bars from the court vending machine so he can have a snack he enjoys. The security guard doesn’t want to let Rivi eat them, but Carmen is right that this is permissible. The guard smashes the bars in defeat. Carmen opens one for Rivi.

It is a little distracting to see the main characters pretend that COVID is in the past when the extras have masks, but honestly, that’s kind of what life is like right now?

Carmen zones out a little in court—not sure if she just does that or if she is trying to look unfamiliar with the rules so people will go easy on her/have low expectations. I think it’s a combination of both, considering that we’ve seen her laser-focus on things elsewhere in the episode AND she tells the judge it is her first day in court.

Court stuff happens; Carmen’s strategy works.

The judge tries to give Carmen advice and a warning. Liz is also there, watching, which is good because I was shocked anyone would let Carmen do this unsupervised.

Carmen is also kind of like if you removed all of Maia’s worst traits (her selfishness, her spoiled brat attitude, her sense of entitlement) and skipped right to her willingness to partner with Blum.

Liz and Carmen talk again, this time about the reputation of the firm. Liz notes that Carmen is clearly capable and reminds her sternly that she needs to conduct herself in a manner that does not put the firm at risk and that’s the only reminder she’s going to get. Carmen twirls a pen and stares at it instead of listening to Liz. She says she’s just listening like she’s perfectly innocent. It’s the right thing to say and, again, it’s SUPER UNNERVING.

“Wow. You really don’t give a shit what people think about you, do you?” Liz says in frustration. “I’m here to do a good job for my clients,” Carmen notes. Is she??? Does she just not care who she’s representing and want to do a good job, and that’s her whole motivation?? I would find that interesting but I need more to believe it. She’s so perplexing.

(Again, I don’t really get why Liz hasn’t fired her, because if she and Carmen keep having these interactions, Liz IS going to end up ceding all of her power and looking weak. But maybe Liz is as intrigued as I am.)

Liz also tells Carmen she’s going to be her mentor. Carmen says thanks and that she respected Liz’s father. Liz does NOT take that well. Audra’s reaction—a mix of shock, irritation, and confusion—is perfect here. I think Carmen is trying to say that she respected Carl Reddick—but she has no such respect for Liz. (It could also be about the sexual harassment, but I don’t think that’s public knowledge.)

I noticed earlier that the courtroom was #305 and was wondering why they chose that number (it’s similar to Courtroom 302, the book that inspired the bond court arc, which is why 305 stuck in my mind). I see now that the Copy Coop’s address is 305. Heh.

Turns out that the woman suing Toni is someone who would break COVID protocol and be generally terrible. I’m shocked.

Wackner decides to skip closing arguments and rule. He sides with Toni.

See, this is where this kind of thing is dangerous. Wackner is great and fair. But you can’t really replicate a system like this (though I also think this system would fail if replicated on too large of a scale; the reason it works is that everyone involved is buying into it and if it were to be corrupted no one would buy into it unless forced to—and if people are forced to buy into an extrajudicial system then that’s its own problem). What if some other judge were to just decide to skip closing arguments or decide suddenly a trial was over? That could be unfair in so many different ways.

After the resolution of the case there’s clapping and even Diane is surprised at how reasonable the verdict was.

Wackner then insists that everyone shake hands because “the thing we all crave most is respect and acknowledgement.” They also have to say, “I respect and I love you.” And they do! And no one even seems that unhappy with it Marissa and Toni are super into it.

And, someone in the gallery wants to get Marissa’s number because she did such a good job. Yep, sounds about right.

Diane fills Liz in, and Liz can’t believe it. Liz wants to hire Wackner (jokingly). Then she says she wants Julius since they know and trust him. Diane’s good with that, but she also chooses this moment to playfully let on that she knows Liz slept with Caleb. We’ve seen Diane observe Liz’s reaction to Caleb/mentions of Caleb all episode, and I don’t think it’s coincidental that Diane brings this up now, and in a friendly way. Diane doesn’t need to bring it up. I don’t think Diane needs the answer. I think she just wants to throw Liz off without making it obvious that’s what she’s doing.

I really, really hate to say it, because my whole thing about this season is wanting to see Liz be a great manager, but I don’t... actually think... Liz is a great manager? She’s second-guessing herself far too much. She’s more thrown in this scene than Carmen, who has like two days of experience, is by anything she encounters. And worse, she doesn’t hide it when she’s thrown. I think Liz is very smart and capable, but this episode is a pretty good case for why she might not be able to manage alone.

I know I’ve said that I want to see Liz manage and think she’d be good at it. I still think she could be. But I’ve also tended to think that Liz is a good manager and Adrian talks down at her, and I’ve dismissed some of her less strategic ideas as the fault of the Adrian/Liz dynamic. But nothing in this episode seems out of character, so now I’m less sure. (And to be clear, Liz not being a great manager isn’t a problem with the show, it’s actually pretty interesting to me.)

(Here are some of the things Liz has done in this episode alone that she needs to stop doing to be more effective: 1) Everything about her reaction to Caleb (and the fact she slept with him-- and yes I would, and did, say this about Will too so this is not a double standard!) 2) Not having a clear plan when meeting with the partners, even though she—and not Diane—is the one who is seen as having power. 3) Not being able to hold her own nearly as well as she should be able to with Carmen. I’m curious to see how the other partners hold up, and in fairness to Liz, I may be able to make this criticism of any character who doesn’t just immediately fire Carmen.)

And, I say all of this now because Diane in this scene is SO smart and SO strategic. She mentions Caleb to disarm Liz, then casually notes that she thinks Liz should take the corner office since it’s a black firm.

Liz isn’t sure if she should thank Diane for that (it is a little patronizing) but she does anyway.

Diane has another “last thing” to say, and it’s that she wants to bring on another partner, a black one. She wants to be in the discussion and to retain a name partner position. Liz says yes, as long as she has any power over the decision. This is a very smart move for Diane. It’s a compromise that’s to her benefit, and she makes the request of Liz at exactly the right time. I think Diane likes Liz as a person and wants to work with her, but she’s definitely buttering her up. This is kind of like an audition to show Liz that she should stick with Diane—Diane will be friendly with her! Diane won’t judge (but definitely knows about!) her indiscretions. Diane is reasonable and not power-hungry! Diane is understanding!

(And again, to be clear, I don’t think Liz is falling for Diane’s trap or anything. If Diane is smart enough to plan all this out, Diane is absolutely someone you’d want to keep on as a name partner. It’s just that Diane showing how smart she is, is a pretty stark contrast to Liz getting disrespected by a first-year associate.)

(And, because I feel like I'm being quite harsh on Liz, I don’t think Liz has handled the Carmen situation badly... yet. I just see signs that Carmen is able to shift the balance of power in her favor without really trying, and that Liz is getting flustered. I think Liz mentioning the mentorship is a way of Liz asserting power, and I think/hope that now that Liz knows the situation, she will try to regain control. And, I could very easily see this same plot happening but with Diane—it's just that there are a few other plots where Liz seems flustered in this episode alone, so it feels like a pattern. I’ll be looking out for more of this.)

Marissa and Carmen, both with large folders of casework, get in an elevator together. “So. I guess it begins,” Marissa says as the episode ends. I very much want to see more of Marissa and Carmen interacting. Mostly, I just want to see what Carmen does when she’s in situations that aren’t about representing a client or defending her work. I know what type of lawyer and employee she is, but who is she as a person?

Wow, this might be the most I’ve written about characters on TGF—as opposed to plots—in quite a while. I think that’s what has me so excited about this season. Carmen is interesting as a character because she’s so unique (or, perhaps, because she feels so much like a part of this universe yet so little like any other character—that's why I keep trying to compare her to others and find out where to place her). The 9 ¾ court is interesting because Wackner is so grounded, because it challenges Diane’s sense of reality in a way that’s new and interesting (this whole series is about making reality seem like it’s shifting under your feet; this is a new take on a familiar theme), and because it is a great match for Marissa’s personality and will give her a lot of opportunities for growth. It seems like we’re heading for some interesting material with Diane and Kurt, and there’s been a little bit of a tense undercurrent in their interactions in these first two episodes—I truly can’t tell if it’s supposed to be part of their banter or if there are mounting frustrations; I think the former but could see it being the latter. And, as I’d hoped, Liz is getting a lot more material.

#tgf thoughts #the good fight

19 notes · View notes

teenwolffanclub-me · 4 years

Text

Season 1, Episode 11: Formality

Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader (FINALLY!)

Warnings: angsty angst angst

Notes: Does anyone still like this series? The last part kinda flopped 🤨

Anyway, I’m back and super excited bc my babies are FINALLY official and they only had to almost die like three times to do it!

P.S. Lydia has terrible taste in men, Y/N still sucks at being a psychic, and the high school desperately needs more security

————————

Have you ever had a day go so unbelievably sideways that you honestly can’t even comprehend how fucked up it is?

Yeah, welcome to my Friday.

“This is the worst! My life is literally over.”

I huffed in annoyance, my jaw dropping at the pure absurdity of that statement. “Scott, Peter tried kidnapping you this morning and you’re worried about a dance?”

He frowned from beside me, his shoulders sagging. Last night, Deaton tried making Stiles and I leave the clinic once he was all patched up, but we both refused. I still wasn’t completely convinced that he was alive until he woke up with a start this morning.

It didn’t take long for Peter to show up, demanding that we hand him over. Actually, I can’t really say we because the three of us hid in the back while Deaton somehow took care of it.

Derek was still hanging out in the Argent’s basement, probably being tortured by Kate but most likely dead by now. I tried talking to Allison when I got to school this morning, but she practically ran away from me when I brought it up. I had no idea how much she knew at this point, and it was freaking me out.

And, to top it all off, Scott was flunking so many classes that coach banned him from the dance tonight.

Clearly, that was the most pressing issue.

He was so desperate afterward that he asked Jackson to watch over Allison, since he is her date. He apparently refused because it’s Jackson, so Scott had been losing his mind with worry all day. He was convinced that Peter would be after her next, but I wasn’t so sure.

She wasn’t an obvious choice. I mean, her family is literally just a bunch of professional werewolf hunters. Adding her to his pack wouldn’t make much sense.

“I just—I can’t sit by and watch him try to kill everyone I love.” Scott forced a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh.

My steps faltered and I peered over at him, my eyebrows raised in surprise. “You love her?”

“Oh,” His eyes widened as he realized what he said. “Yeah. I do. Holy shit. I love her.”

I watched as his lips slowly pulled into a grin, relieved that he wasn’t freaking out for a moment. It’d been pretty obvious for awhile that they loved each other, and I was honestly shocked it had taken him this long to acknowledge it, but happy for him nonetheless.

“That’s it. I’m going tonight.” His face hardened with determination before he turned on his heel and walked away briskly.

“Okay. Bye to you too!” I chuckled, curious to see how he’d manage to sneak in.

I only made it a few steps before someone rammed into my side forcefully. A pair of hands gripped my arms to steady me as I nearly toppled over. My eyes narrowed as they landed on Stiles’ sheepish expression.

“Hey. Sorry.” He let me go quickly and scratched at the back of his head. “Where have you been?”

“Class..?” I drawled slowly, my eyes trailing over his twitchy frame slowly. He seemed more wired than normal, which was saying a lot.

His chest was heaving as if he’d just run a mile—which I’d recently learned he was surprisingly incapable of—and his eyes were shining with barely contained anxiety.

“I just...uh—I have a, I’ve been trying to...will you go to formal with me?” He rushed the words out so quickly, it took me a second to process them.

I just stared at him, waiting a moment to see if he was going to follow that up with anything else. “You mean the one that’s tonight? Are you serious?”

His honey eyes widened, as if he wasn’t expecting that response. I mean, what else was I supposed to say? I’d been waiting for him to ask me for almost two weeks now, and he waits until the day of? Who does that?

“Uh,” He glanced away from me quickly, his cheeks turning pink under the fluorescent lights. “Not if you’re going to say no.”

I just rolled my eyes, ignoring the way my heart began fluttering at the thought of going with him. I took a step forward so that there were only a few inches separating us and leaned up to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“It’s a date.” I patted his chest before walking away, an amused smirk pulling at my lips at his stunned expression.

————————

I let my fingers trail over the frilly materials hanging in front of me as I took in my options. I was failing miserably at finding something decent to wear tonight. I wasn’t used to dressing up or being overly girly, so I had no idea where to start. I’d really just been standing here for the last several minutes, overwhelmed by all the colors and textures.

Allison was standing to my left, inspecting a few dresses in a full length mirror. Lydia was long gone somewhere behind me with a mountain of cloth in her arms. I picked up a knee-length blue dress and decided it wouldn’t hurt to try it on.

I saw someone approaching Allison out of my corner of my eye and glanced her way fleetingly, but froze as my gaze locked with Peter’s. I looked around, not fully believing that he was here, before jerking my attention back to him. He gave me a slow, amused smirk before shifting his eyes toward her. My head whipped back to the dresses in front of me, my entire body going rigid as I tried not to alarm her.

Maybe Scott had been right this afternoon. But would he really try to turn her now? In the middle of the mall?

“That’s not your color.” I heard him murmur, and stole another look their way. I didn’t want Allison to catch on that I knew him, or that anything was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Allison shifted her weight, looking uncomfortable as he stared at her intensely. “Sorry if that was intrusive but, considering your skin tone, I’d go lighter.”

“Because I’m pale?” She asked quietly, somehow not questioning the fashion advice from a strange man.

“Fair.” He corrected, his head tilting as he tried to look well-meaning. “I mean, you can’t call skin like yours pale. Not skin that perfect...”

“Okay.” She laughed awkwardly and put the dress she was considering back on the rack beside her.

“Trust me, I have a...unique perspective on the subject.” She nodded and turned to walk away with a tight smile, obviously weirded out, but he stepped to the side so she couldn’t get away. My skin crawled at the predatory gleam in his eyes as he practically sized her up.

She watched nervously as he grabbed a new dress from the rack behind him and took her hand in his. She reeled back instantly at the unwelcome touch, but that didn’t stop him from bringing her skin up beside the material for comparison. “See? Much better.”

I’d heard enough. I took the few steps needed to close the distance between us, my heart racing in my chest. I wasn’t convinced that he was stupid enough to try anything wolfy in public, but I wasn’t about to take any chances, either. I stopped at her side and grabbed her wrist gently. Her wide eyes jerked toward me, swimming with relief.

“Hey, Lydia needs help in the dressing room.” I rushed the lie out quickly, barely registering that she nodded in understanding before pulling her away.

I didn’t even spare another glance at Peter as I weaved through the narrow isles briskly, not stopping until I found Lydia clear on the other end of the store. She actually was by the dressing rooms, posing to herself in a full length mirror. I staggered to a halt at the sight of the champagne dress she had on. It was somehow...familiar?

“That was so creepy.” Allison muttered quietly as she shook my hand off and plopped down onto one of the plush chairs beside the mirrors.

I walked right up to Lydia, unable to stop myself as I continued inspecting her dress. She watched me for a moment and raised her eyebrows expectantly when my gaze rose to meet hers. My face pinched in confusion. There was a persistent nagging at the back of my mind as I looked at her, like there was something I should be picking up on. But I just couldn’t place it.

“I think that’s the one.” I jumped as Allison suddenly spoke up from behind us. I cleared my throat and took a step away from Lydia, realizing how weird I was being.

She turned away from me with one last questioning glance before giving herself a satisfied smile in the mirror, her hands smoothing down the silky material before resting on her hips.

“Me too.” She spun around excitedly and disappeared behind one of the dressing room curtains.

I couldn’t explain it, but I suddenly felt my stomach twist as a dark cloud of dread washed over me.

————————

I looked over Stiles’ shoulder, the hardwood floors beneath my feet vibrating as loud music rang throughout the space. We were slow dancing for the second time tonight, my arms locked around his neck and my head resting against his chest. It was really nice, being this close to him. It helped lower the base level of anxiety I’d been fighting all day.

It’d been nearly an hour since I last saw any of our friends. We all met up with our respective dates at the start of the dance, Lydia having brought a random lacrosse player since Jackson was with Allison. Just then, my eyes found them dancing stiffly a few couples away, but the sight did little to calm my nerves.

He was completely wasted at this point, since he thought it was a good idea to bring a flask of vodka with him, and she was just trying to make the best of it until we all went home. It was clear that neither of them wanted to be here together, but Scott had pretty much threatened him into watching over her, and she didn’t want to be without a date.

Scott successfully snuck in through the roof—don’t ask me how—and was managing to keep an eye on them while dodging coach all night. My eyes swept over the room, seeing nothing but familiar faces, just not the one I was looking for.

Stiles suddenly pulled back and my arms loosened from around his neck. His eyes rounded as they flickered around my face with concern. “You okay?”

I glanced over his shoulder again, feeling uncomfortable under his intense gaze. I didn’t want to lie to him, but I also didn’t know how to explain the uneasy feeling I’d had since we got here. My dancing faltered as I noticed that Jackson and Allison were gone.

“Have you seen Lydia recently?” I asked absently, my eyes still sweeping around the gym quickly.

I took a step away from Stiles and turned all the way around, my chest tightening with anxiety. For some reason, I felt like I needed to find her. Right now. Or something terrible was going to happen. My anxiety was quickly rising to panic when I didn’t see her anywhere.

“Y/N?” Stiles put a hand on my shoulder and I glanced back to see him watching me closely, his brows pinched in confusion.

“I have to...” My skin was crawling with the intense need to get out of here. Something was wrong. I could just feel it. I leaned forward to place a quick kiss on his cheek, already feeling guilty for what I was about to do. “I’m sorry. I’ll be right back.”

I started jogging away before he could try and stop me. My legs had a mind of their own as I stumbled through the dense crowd toward the exit. I braced my hands against the gym doors and pushed my way through, stopping for a moment as they fluttered closed behind me to consider where she could be. I huffed, feeling an urgency deep inside me that was only growing with each passing moment.

I turned on my heel to keep moving, and slammed right into a hard chest. I reeled back, ready to brush past whoever it was, but stopped when I saw that it was Jackson. His chest was heaving, as if he’d been running, and his eyes were wide with fear.

“Jackson?” I asked tentatively, the look he was giving me only increasing my unease.

He stammered silently for a few seconds, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly. His eyes fluttered as they glanced away from me apprehensively. He was acting like he’d just seen a ghost, or maybe something worse.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” I pressed, taking a step toward him.

He gulped and let out a shuddering sigh. “I-I was out behind the school and...and I was...”

“What? What did you do?” My voice hardened with frustration as I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously. He had definitely been up to something, if his guilt-ridden expression was any indication. I momentarily forgot what I was supposed to be doing as my curiosity peaked.

“I-I told...Allison’s dad, he was...”

My heart skipped a beat with panic at his words. Mr. Argent was behind the school? Why would he...

Oh shit.

Oh my God.

Without even sparing him another glance, I rushed past him and straight down the hall. Within seconds I was outside, the freezing night air causing my skin to rise with goosebumps instantly. My head whipped from side to side as I tried to figure out which way to go. On instinct, I starting running toward the lacrosse field.

My heart was hammering painfully in my chest as I sprinted as fast as humanly possible. I was suddenly very glad that I’d chosen to wear ballet flats tonight, instead of the heels Lydia had tried forcing me to buy. I let my intuition guide me as I kept going until I reached the edge of the field.

I staggered to a stop, my eyes widening at the sight of Lydia standing at the other end. Her back was to me as she walked around slowly, looking lost. I opened my mouth to call her name, feeling my chest loosen just slightly at the fact that she was okay.

I froze, my whole body growing rigid with fear as Peter suddenly emerged from the tree line just outside the field. His figure was mostly cloaked by the bright stadium lights as he approached her, and it didn’t seem like she’d seen him yet.

“Lydia!” I screamed, finally finding my voice through the panic coursing through me. I started running in her direction again, having no plan but just needing to be there with her.

She whipped around at the sound of her name, but made no move to get away. There was nothing I could do but watch in horror as Peter stalked toward her and opened his mouth wide, his eyes flashing bright red. She didn’t react nearly fast enough.

By the time I reached them, she was laying in a crumpled heap on the turf, blood splattered across her dress. All the air rushed from my lungs as a heavy sense of déjà vu washed over me.

Of course, how could I be so stupid? It was the vision I’d seen when Derek helped me, finally playing out in real life.

I let out a trembling breath, my chest feeling like it would collapse any second from the intense pressure. My mind went blank as Peter kneeled over her body, blood dripping down his face. His eyes, still red, slowly swept up to meet mine.

“Well, they don’t usually run toward me, but I’ll take it.” He muttered lowly, an amused smirk twitching at his lips.

My eyes were still locked onto Lydia’s unconscious frame beneath him. Her new dress was ripped, the red stain at her hip growing alarmingly fast. My heart clenched painfully and tumbled down into my stomach at the sight.

I was too late.

Peter took his time standing to his full height. I could feel his intense gaze on me, watching me closely, but I couldn’t look away from Lydia. She was so...broken. A wave of nausea washed over me and I forced my eyes to meet his.

My vision blurred as I tried desperately to catch my breath. “Is she dead?”

My voice was barely above a hoarse whisper, my entire body trembling. It was from the overwhelming terror being this close to Peter initiated, but I wasn’t just scared. I was angry. I knew something was going to happen all day, and I ignored my instincts. I saw this very thing happen weeks ago, but did nothing. And now, Lydia might be dead. Because of me.

Peter hummed low in his throat, his eyes scanning me from head to toe before glancing down at her fleetingly. “Not at the moment.”

A few tears escaped down my cheeks as I tore my gaze away from him to look at her again. I wasn’t even sure if she was breathing. If she was still alive, it was just barely.

My panic only rose as I thought about how unlikely it was that I’d get out of this situation in time to bring her to a hospital. Her chances of survival were dropping by the second. And mine too, probably.

“Tell me, Y/N, what do you see in my future?” Peter look a slow step toward me, and I stumbled back to keep some distance between us.

My eyes jerked up to his as I stiffened, a shiver wracking my body as I became more aware of the freezing temperature. “How do you know about that?”

The earth crunched beneath his shoes as he stalked toward me. I stood impossibly still, knowing I wouldn’t be able to escape him. He didn’t stop until he loomed only inches away.

“How does anyone know anything?” He murmured hoarsely into my ear, and I recoiled back, my stomach clenching painfully in disgust. My eyes pinched shut as one of his hands came up to brush a stray lock of hair away from my face. “You, my dear, would make a fantastic beta.”

My eyes jerked open again and I took a miniscule step away from him, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. “Trust me, I wouldn’t. I’ve been told I can be really annoying. I wouldn’t make a good beta. Or a good anything, really. I’m hardly a psychic. You should just keep searching because, you know, whatever it is you’re looking for...isn’t me.”

“Oh, I think I’m willing to take my chances.” Time seemed to slow as his eyes flashed bright red, his mouth opening wide to show his razor sharp canines.

I whipped around, ready to at least attempt running for my life, but instantly froze at the sight of Stiles barreling toward us.

“No!” I shouted frantically, my heart leaping into my throat with panic.

A strong arm wrapped around my stomach and wrenched me backward. I slammed against Peter’s chest, hard. The air was knocked out of my lungs from the force, just as a clawed hand snaked around my throat.

Stiles lurched to a stop in front of us, his dress shoes slipping on the damp turf. He flailed to the ground before popping back up instantly, his eyes wide with horror as they glanced down at Lydia before landing on me.

“Don’t kill her. Please.” His voice was trembling with desperation as he held a hand out toward us hesitantly.

The tips of Peter’s claws dug into my skin and I winced, tears now running freely down my face. I was terrified. For myself, Lydia, and now Stiles. Peter had killed many times before, and there was literally nothing stopping him now. Stiles’ eyes flickered to my neck, his jaw clenching tightly.

“Of course not. Just tell me how to find Derek.” Peter drawled, as if he wasn’t currently poised to do the opposite.

“W-what?” Stiles stammered, seemingly surprised by that request. His gaze was still firmly planted on Peter’s hand.

I felt a sharp stabbing at the base of my throat and my lips parted as a shuddering gasp escaped me. He was surely drawing blood at this point. Stiles’ eyes widened with alarm at the sight and his hand jerked toward us as if he were itching to intervene.

“Tell me how to find Derek Hale.” Peter leaned down, his warm breath fanning my shoulder. I tried jerking my head away, my heart lurching in my chest at his close proximity, but didn’t get far with his tight hold around me.

“I don’t know that! How would I know that?” Stiles’ voice rose to a frantic shout, his chest heaving as his glistening eyes finally moved up to Peter.

“You’re the clever one, aren’t you? And because deception has a very particularly accurate scent, Stiles. Tell me the truth. Or I will rip her apart.”

As if to prove the validity behind his words, his hand tightened around my throat. I instantly started pulling at his fingers as I felt my airway closing. My lips parted in a silent gasp, my lungs spasming painfully as I tried to force a breath in.

“Look. I don’t know! Okay?” Stiles rushed the words out in a complete panic, his eyes darting between Peter and my neck. Tiny black spots dotted my vision as I felt myself growing faint. “I swear—I swear to God I have no idea!”

Peter hummed low in his throat, his chest vibrating against my back. “Wrong again.”

Everything that happened next must’ve taken place in only a few seconds, but they seemed to drag on and on. Peter’s head jerked down to my left shoulder, his teeth digging into my skin easily. A scream tore through my throat as he finally released it, my vision blurring as unbearable pain rippled along my upper body.

Stiles face crumbled in utter horror and he lunged toward me just as Peter’s arms disappeared. I tried gasping for breath as I sagged to the ground, but my body just wasn’t cooperating. It felt like Stiles caught me, but I couldn’t be sure as I lost all feeling in my limbs.

Then, everything went black.

————————

I stirred, already wincing in pain as I slowly regained consciousness. A high pitched droning was the only sound��in my otherwise quiet surroundings. My eyes fluttered open and instantly squinted against the harsh fluorescent lights above me.

Everything felt heavy. I sluggishly started turning my head away from the lights, but jerked to a stop as searing pain radiated from my shoulder. My face fell into a grimace as a pitiful groan escaped my lips.

Something shuffled at the foot of my bed and I froze. My heart jumped in my chest with panic. Memories of Peter came flooding back all at once, and I started trembling with fear at the unknown presence.

Stiles jerked upright, appearing at my side a split second later. I let out a small sigh of relief, wincing as my lungs angrily protested each breath I took. My body began relaxing as I realized I was safe.

“Oh my God! Y/N!” He practically yelled in my face as he leaned down over me. “Are you okay? Wait, that’s a stupid question. How are you feeling? Does it hurt?”

One of his hands disappeared beneath the thin mesh blanket covering my body and he pulled out a hallow cord with a small switch in the middle. “If it hurts you can push this button as much as you want and I won’t tell. You’ll be higher than a kite, but—”

“Stiles.” My voice was barely above a hoarse whisper as I interrupted his frantic rambling. “I feel okay. Just tired.”

Truthfully, I hadn’t been awake long enough to know how I felt. I’d gathered that I was in the hospital, but obviously didn’t know much else. My entire left side hurt like hell.

My eyes trailed over Stiles quickly, noting that he was still wearing his clothes from the dance. His white button up was stained with blood and dirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His black jacket had been discarded on a table by the door.

Maybe it hadn’t been long, then?

“Seriously?” He sagged down into the chair that sat beside my bed, his eyes widening in surprise. “You were asleep for almost thirty hours.”

“I was what?” I planted my hands on either side of my hips and pushed myself up, ignoring the pain that ripped through my shoulder at the movement.

How the hell had I been out that long? That meant it was already Sunday, although probably somewhere around midnight. Too many panicked thoughts invaded my mind at once to make sense out of any one of them.

Stiles bolted back to his feet and pushed me against the bed with a disapproving glare. “It was actually twenty eight hours, forty seven minutes, and sixteen seconds, if that makes you feel better.”

“You know what, somehow it does.” I huffed sarcastically with a roll of my eyes, wiggling around on the hard mattress in an effort to get comfortable again.

Stiles twitched his eyes at me while he sat back down apprehensively, as if not trusting me to stay put. He brought a hand up to rub at the back of his neck as he glanced down to my injured shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Y/N...”

“For what?” My brows furrowed in confusion. I really had no idea why he would be apologizing. There was definitely a list of people that should feel bad right now, but he wasn’t one of them.

“I should’ve listened. If I’d just told him what he wanted...” He let out a heavy sigh and rested his elbows onto his knees before dropping his head into his hands.

I reached out and took one of his hands in mine, rubbing my fingers across his skin soothingly as he looked up at me cautiously. He had no reason to blame himself. Peter had already proven time and time again that he’s literally insane, and I’d made the stupid decision to run toward him mid-attack. I had a feeling he would’ve bitten me either way, regardless of anything Stiles did.

“It’s not your fault.” His lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes glistening with a slew of intense emotions.

I didn’t even have time to start deciphering them before he sat forward in his chair, his face hardening with determination. “I should’ve brought this up before I had to watch you almost die, but...you’re not—you know, how you are with me...with any other guys, right?”

His voice was timid as he struggled to stutter out the words. My heart swelled in my chest as my lips pulled up into a small smile. That was the most adorable, perfect, Stiles way of phrasing that question. For a moment, I forgot about all my worries.

“Stilinski, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

His eyes twitched as he squeezed his fingers around mine minutely. “Only if you’re gonna say yes.”

I didn’t even have to think about it for a second.

“Of course I’m saying yes, you dork.” I let out a breathy giggle as a big grin took over his face.

His caramel eyes shined with happiness as he brought my hand against his mouth to place a gentle kiss on my fingers. It was about damn time we had that conversation. I honestly shouldn’t be surprised that it took us this long to make things official, considering how stubborn we both are. Regardless, it felt amazing to finally be able to call him my boyfriend.

My boyfriend, Stiles. It had a nice ring to it.

I only let myself relish the moment for a few more seconds before finally asking about the one thing I’d been dreading thinking about since waking up.

“How’s Lydia? Is she...?” I trailed off, not able to say the word out loud.

When I’d seen her last, she was only moments away from death. I was sure of it. If I’d been here this long from a bite to the shoulder, I couldn’t imagine the damage that had been done to her. My heart clenched with regret as I thought back to all the moments I could’ve done something differently that would’ve saved her.

Stiles winced beside me, hesitating for a long moment before answering in a quiet mumble. “She’s uh...missing.”

“Excuse me?” I instantly tried bolting upright at his words, my anxiety skyrocketing. Missing? How could she be missing?

He guided me back down gently with a hand on my uninjured shoulder, his eyes narrowing again in warning. “Yeah. She just kinda disappeared from her room this morning.”

It was like he could sense that I was about to try getting up again, as he peered down at me sternly and pressed his hand down more firmly. “My dad already has the entire department out searching. There’s nothing you can do.”

My mind was racing with anxious, jumbled thoughts. She could’ve been taken if no one was sitting by her bedside like Stiles had clearly done for me. Or, she could’ve run away. But why would she do that? She was in the hospital. Where she was safe and getting treatment. I guess, there was always a chance that she’d taken to the bite and shifted already...

I didn’t know what any of this meant for me. I could only assume at this point that I wasn’t a werewolf. I mean, my shoulder clearly hadn’t miraculously healed yet. I figured, if I were, it would’ve done so by now. I was just incredibly glad—and lucky—to be alive.

My eyes met Stiles’ as he leaned back in his chair and inspected me closely. He kept glancing toward the place where Peter had bitten me as he drummed his fingers against his lips. It was like he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I breathed, suddenly nervous. His anxious expression couldn’t mean anything good.

“There’s something I keep—something Derek said awhile ago that I can’t get out of my head.” He mumbled, his eyebrows furrowing in apprehension.

I looked at him expectantly, urging him to continue. He was seriously starting to freak me out.

“The bite—he said it either kills you...and I think we’re good on that one...”

I glowered at his poorly timed sarcasm as his eyes continued flickering between my own and my shoulder. He swallowed thickly, and I could practically see his heart racing as he let out a ragged sigh. He finally caught my gaze, twitching uncomfortably in his seat.

“Or it changes you.”

Well, shit.

Episode 10 Episode 12

155 notes · View notes

northern-writer · 3 years

Text

Solid Ground ~ One

A/N: Afternoon all! Here’s the start of Diana and Steve’s journey. As stated before, these won’t be in order - just this one and the last, which are set in Season Six.

“So, you saw her then? Is she alright?”

It was a typical Friday night - for Steve and I, anyway.

After a gruelling day of doing practically nothing, Steve and I found ourselves back at my house. Consuming copious amounts of takeaway. I was slightly tipsy from a bottle of red, whilst Steve was two bottles deep into a pack of six Peroni’s. Both of us curled up on the sofa. Steve always took the left, I the right.

Taking a rather elongated sip, Steve just seemed to huff in response, “She’s fine. Who wouldn’t be? Over at Polk, away from the likes of us.”

“Don’t be bitter Steven.”

“Believe me, I’ve tried not to be but-“ Steve couldn’t finish. Instead, taking another drink of beer. He focused his attention back on the television, where a crappy, and rather uninteresting talk show played.

But I wasn’t done, “Kate wanted a change. There’s nothing wrong with that. We should be thankful that for once, she’s happy.”

It took him a moment, then Steve shifted, his gaze meeting mine. I raised a brow, causing him to chuckle softly and return to watching the television.

On the other hand, I found myself just staring at Steve, unable to tear my eyes away. There were a number of things occurring in my brain. Maybe it was the wine? Surely that wasn’t causing the flutterings. No, that had been there for quite some time.

He’s my best friend. There’s not much more to it than that. Steve Arnott was the waist coated light of my life, and when I say that I couldn’t live without him, that wouldn’t be an exaggeration. He liked beer and football. A hot curry after work. I hated beer, had zero interest in football and couldn’t stand curry. But that didn’t matter. Not to us. That’s what made our friendship so special. If Steve could handle the odd episode of Married at First Sight (the Australian version, not the British,) then I could withstand attending a football match or two. We’re different, but so alike. That’s what made us. I knew that, regardless of if he had a relationship, I was his rock - his one constant, as he had been mine for so long.

But now he wanted to transfer, leaving AC-12 behind, just as Kate had done eighteen months before.

The thought of Steve relocating made my chest hurt. It was selfish of me, but I didn’t want him to go. There was still time. He hadn’t made up his mind just yet. Work had been kicking his arse recently. This was due to unsolved murder of journalist, Gail Vella. It was an incredibly tragic murder and naturally, the handling by DCI. Davidson was starting to botch. Over the last two years, I’d had a few dealings with the DCI in question, majority of them ending with the biting of tongues and keeping my mouth shut. I wasn’t Steve. I couldn’t get myself in trouble, not again. Rather than get caught up in my thoughts, I found myself reaching for my glass of Merlot and settling into Steve’s side. He was warm and luckily, didn’t mind the intrusion; his arm going around me like it was supposed to be there. After all these years he was used to it.

Steve tried to focus on the tv. He tried his hardest, his very hardest, but no matter what - he couldn’t. Not with Diana nestled to close to his side. After six years, he’d grown accustomed to seeing her, at AC-12, socially on the weekends and one thing was for certain, that without her, he’d be lost. Unable to properly function. It never mattered what he did - Almost ruined the cases; ended up in hospital after being thrown down stairs (he still hadn’t lived that one down, physically and with Diana); the many failed relationships and after all that happened with Dot, she was there. Still by his side.

Then there was the medication. Diana wasn’t aware of that, Steve had made certain that his friend wouldn’t find out. There would be hell to pay if she did, and would only fuss him, then maybe tell on him to his mother. Not the ideal situation, if he was being honest with himself. No, secrets were better for now.

Things weren’t looking good at AC-12 either. Everybody was consumed with the suspicious murder of Gail Vella. Hastings, Bishop, even Diana, who’s role at AC-12 had been elevated to be the only Forensic Consultant. Seeing Diana everyday made Steve feel warm. To see her smile whenever he managed to crack a stupid joke, or when Hastings quipped something incredibly Irish. It seemed to brighten the room and for that, Steve was glad. As the television grew less interesting, Steve found his mind going to other places, to the secret meeting he’d had with Kate. What a failure that had subsequently been…

—

Steve hated Polk Avenue. He could never quite place why, but he did. Kate leaving had affected him more than he cared to admit. She was his ‘mate.’ Aside from Diana, she was the only other person who he could trust. They both knew everything about him. An unnerving thought indeed. As he parked up and flashed the lights - four times, just to be sure - Steve waited patiently for Kate to approach the car. He spotted her as she began to walk away from the building and near his car, hidden subtly by the front gates. Once she was inside, it was clear Kate wasn’t all that pleased to see him.

Turning to face him, her face incredulous, “What kind of knobby signal was that?”

Typical Kate, he thought.

“First thing that came to mind.”

“Go round the block in case anyone’s watching.” Kate instructed. Pulling her seatbelt over and on, settling into the passenger seat.

Inhaling sharply, Steve simply nodded, putting the car into drive, “No worries.”

Together, they pulled away from the station, turning onto the street and driving away. For a moment, an awkward, unfamiliar silence filled the vehicle. It was Kate who spoke up first. Breaking the peace.

“There’s a nice little balti up the road. But, I’m guessing that’s not why you’re here, though.” She was calm about it all, but Steve could sense the tension in her voice.

“I wish,” He sighed, “Sorry mate.”

Again, Kate fell silent and chewed on her lip, letting out a quiet, “Right.”

“I can’t share any details, but we might be looking into Vella.” Steve started carefully.

Kate couldn’t believe it.

Closing her eyes and sighing deeply, “Oh shit,” Opening them again, she found herself getting angry with the man sat beside her, “Great, so when Buckells and Davidson find out, they’re going to think-“

“They’ll think either you’re our CHIS or you’ve been embedded as a UCO.” He intercepted. Turning, he tried to smile at his friend, “That’s why I’m giving you a heads-up, Kate.”

Kate still wasn’t having it, “Steve, you know what it’s like being ex-anti corruption. I’ve had to work my bollocks off with them lot.”

Of course Steve knew this. Kate was one of the hardest workers in the force, and yet, it all boiled down to loyalty - as it always seemed to do these days.

“Is this the gaffer’s way of getting his own back?” She continued.

Frowning, Steve simply shook his head, “No, of course not.”

“Why am I still calling him “gaffer?”

Steve tried to think of something in kind. He knew why she’d moved, as did Hastings. There was no doubt about that. Sighing, Kate moved onto other subjects, ready to stop talking about her new Bosses.

“How’s Di?” She asked softly, her voice lowering for the first time since getting in.

Kate missed her friends, even though she wouldn’t admit to that out loud. Seeing them both everyday was something she’d missed. The laughter in those off moments. A coffee when it was calm. Her weekly glass of wine with Diana - that was what she missed the most. Sure, they messaged from time to time, but now Diana was a consultant, rather than just an investigator, and with her position at Polk Avenue, time was scarce. Kate observed Steve closely. Noting how the tops of his ears turned a little pink, or how his cheeks had blushed. Internally, she smirked.

Steve let out a harsh cough and nodded, “She’s good, yeah, she’s- Alright.”

“I do miss her,” Then, “You’re so obvious you know.”

“What?” He was confused.

Kate let out a snort, shaking her head amusedly, “Never mind. Forget I said anything about it.”

Steve wanted to enquire about her statement, but left it alone. Not wanting to upset the moment between them. Their conversation about Vella and Hastings continued until they reached Polk Avenue again. Then, as Steve was left alone, his thoughts returned back to Kate and her statement. What was he so obvious about?

Shaking his head, he tried to push the thoughts back and started to make his way back into the city.

—

Collectively, the pair were silent, watching the television. Steve’s fingers brushed over Diana’s shoulder, whilst Diana made his shoulder her pillow. Separately however, their thoughts were racing.

Both recalling the moments that had led them to this.

#steve arnott fanfiction #steve arnott #line of duty fanfiction #line of duty #kate fleming #oc: diana jackson #fanfiction #jo davidson #ac 12

26 notes · View notes

onlysarah235678 · 4 years

Text

A Little Bit Part 8

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x female reader

A/N: So here is a break from the death. Just a little dog fluff, annoying people, and flowers and lube as promised. Thanks for reading 😊. Also special thank you to illuminated-blue for helping me figure out what gifs I wanted and then making them for me again (and for listening to me rant today). You’re the best ❤

Warnings: annoying people, brief mention of blood/wound cleaning, and slight dog aggression/distress.

The next day at work you feel like you’re floating you’re so happy. Everything is going well so far with appointments, and you’ve seen at least three happy, healthy puppies today. Not even the reporter waiting for you outside your building this morning could bring your mood down. You and Milo had just waltzed right by them to your car because you were determined to make it through this day unscathed. At least up until you went to Billie’s house.

The two of you had decided that you should come over because then Billie wouldn’t have to worry about the cats being left with the sitter. You felt bad for Heather who always seemed to be watching them, and Billie most likely wouldn’t be able to see you until after dinner time. The teen probably had better things to do than watch kittens all night. Even though they were adorable.

Speaking of cats, you look to your schedule and see that it’s changed a little. You take a minute to review the new client’s information before running up to your desk to finish up some notes while you had the chance. They should be here soon if they were in fact on time.

Claire smiles as she arrives at the clinic with her cat. She shuts the door behind her after grabbing the meowing cat in the back seat. She had specifically taken the day off so she could get her cat’s vaccines updated. Fridays were ideal because they were usually the busiest at the pet store. That’s why she’d picked today. She didn’t want to work. She also had wanted to make sure you’d be here, and that she could schedule an appointment with you. That was the real reason why Claire had taken today off of work.

She hadn’t seen you since running into you and Milo at that bar and that was too long for her liking. That meeting hadn’t gone the way she’d wanted so she was going to try again. She also had never gotten the chance to see you in your element, and she was way too excited for this opportunity today.

As Claire walked in through the front door, she immediately looked around for you, but came up empty. She turned to the blonde at the front desk with a half-smile.

“Hi, I’m here with Jonesy. I have an appointment with Dr. Y/L/N.”

You had never bothered to learn Claire’s last name. However, after being harassed by the brunette numerous times, you’d think that you’d want to have that sort of information. Unfortunately, you realize your mistake too late, and you walk into the exam room with Claire and her cat only to be completely blindsided. Dammit.

You barely hold back the urge to groan as you allow your professional persona to take over. You stomp down your personal feelings toward the brunette for probably the umpteenth time since you’d met her.

“Hi, Claire. Good to see you.”

For fuck’s sake. You had to stop saying that to her.

The exam went pretty well. Claire’s cat was a little shit for some of it, but he wasn’t the worst you’ve had to deal with. You’re at the point where you just need to get samples on him, but you have a feeling that you’ll need a little help. At the end of the exam, Jonesy got a little feisty and not too keen with being poked. For this reason, you asked the assistant helping you, Maria to go get another person to lend a hand, but Claire spoke up before she could leave. They exchange an uncomfortable look before you manage to cut the tension by smiling and effectively shutting Claire down.

“Don’t think you can handle little old Jonesy, Dr. Y/L/N?”

Maria’s jaw drops and you remind yourself to be a professional as you just laugh slightly instead of rolling your eyes.

“Not at all. I just want to make sure that no one gets hurt and that Jonesy is as least stressed as possible.”

Jonesy was very stressed. He hadn’t wanted any of the baby food that was offered and it took two holders wrapping him in a towel to keep him still. You pulled his blood easily enough, despite him having old cat veins that were practically non-existent, but there was no way in hell you were going to be able to get pee on him with how he was squirming.

As you did your job, you pretended not to notice Claire’s eyes on you. It was unsettling to say the least, but you weren’t going to call her out on it and let your assistants know that you’re tense. Well, you were all tense because Jonesy was getting pissed off.

You finish up quickly and pull out the needle from Jonesy’s leg, but you have to hold it for a moment to make sure his blood clots. That’s when he claws you with the nails you hadn’t gotten around to trimming yet. Maria had lifted her hand off of his leg like she was supposed to, and Jonesy took that opportunity to claw the shit out of your hand.

“Oww, okay! Let. Go.”

You pull Jonesy’s nail out of the back of your hand as carefully as possible before dropping his foot back onto the table. You used the towel wrapped around him to wipe up the blood that was already pooling before you go to grab the nail trimmers.

“Are you okay?”

You nod before grabbing the first paw with dagger-like nails. Jonesy of course hates it, but you finish quickly enough and manage to get out of there before Claire says anything too inappropriate. First thing you do is go to treatment and grab some gauze and disinfectant to put on your cut. It was still bleeding and you hiss in pain as you scrub it clean. This one is going to hurt like a bitch for a while.

Once done you wave your hand to dry it off before returning to pharmacy. You are about to start writing up Jonesy’s note when Maria comes out of the room you’d just been in with an uncertain look.

“Dr. Y/L/N. She has another question for you.”

You hold in your sigh before you nod and head back into the exam room. Hopefully this goes quickly.

Billie Dean was on lunch when you texted her about Claire. She had been working non-stop since she arrived to the studio at 6 this morning. She was ready for a break long enough to finish a cigarette because she was long overdue for one. She was grateful that Michelle had gotten her lunch and had it waiting for her once she finished her most recent episode. She only had one left to get to, and she was excited to be done. Even though it would definitely take the rest of the day.

After re-recording was done for the season, she was going back on television and radio to promote it. The thought made Billie exhausted, but she had to admit it would be nice to leave this studio for the next one. She had a television interview scheduled for next week, and she had already decided to talk to you about it beforehand.

There was no doubt in Billie Dean’s mind that the interviewer would ask her about her relationship with Y/N. She couldn’t just sit there and dodge it, well she could, but it would be too obvious. She needed to figure out where you both stood with your relationship. It was something she’d have to mention tonight when you came over.

Billie had to stop herself from smiling at the thought of what tonight would bring. You had agreed to come over, and you had even offered to cook. Billie wasn’t very good in the kitchen despite learning a couple of your favorite dishes, but she knew how much you loved cooking. You had practically begged her to let you make her dinner, and of course she’d said yes. How could she have said no to that?

She was eager to see what you made and was certain that the image of you cooking in her kitchen would be enough to get her through the rest of the day.

Billie sighed as she put out her cigarette before grabbing her phone out of her purse. She ignored the emails and immediately looked to your messages. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she reread the texts a couple of times.

Even after doing that, she still had no idea what you were talking about.

You were angrily texting Billie in your office when Erin came upstairs to give you your stethoscope. You’d left it downstairs in your hurry to go vent to Billie and you hadn’t even realized it. You didn’t hear her because you were muttering darkly under your breath, and you nearly fell out of your chair when she spoke up.

“Damn, annoying persistent little--.”

“Uh…Dr. Y/L/N?”

Your feet hit the ground fast as you spun around in your chair to see Erin standing in your doorway with your stethoscope in hand. You smile before laughing awkwardly and reaching out for it. You see Erin look to your phone before shooting you a concerned look.

“Oh, thank you!”

“Everything okay, doc?”

You nod despite the fact that you’re lying. You are annoyed at Claire for reasons you can’t really work out, but it’s enough to tick you off. You were having such a good day, and then she had to come in here and trap you in a room with her. She didn’t really have any questions for you, at least ones related to Jonesy. You try not to think about those same annoying questions before you shrug and decide to tell a little bit of the truth.

“Yeah, I just saw a client who I’ve had not so fun encounters with before.”

This piques Erin’s curiosity and she can’t help but ask who you just saw. You mention her name and how she works at a pet store you go to, and Erin practically jumps at this.

“Wait, is she brunette and kind of lanky?”

You open your mouth to reply, but don’t want to be unnecessarily mean so you just shrug noncommittally.

“Possibly?”

Erin groans as she moves a little closer so she can whisper and not be overheard. You are a little surprised by what the brunette says but you figure you shouldn’t be. She has pets too after all, and she is the one who told you about the store in the first place.

“Oh my god. She is the worst. She’s always there when I go get something for Dex and she-.”

Erin trails off as she looks to you uncertainly before deciding that you should probably know. She was really hoping that what she had to tell you didn’t surprise you. If you were annoyed with her it was very likely that you were well aware of Claire’s creepy tendencies.

“She always asks about you, but I promise I don’t tell her anything!”

Despite the chill you feel travel up your spine at the thought of Claire being that creepy, you smile at Erin. You’re grateful that she can tell when someone’s being a creep, and that she’s smart enough to not give them anything they could use against her. It’s also nice to know that she has your back when it matters.

“Thank you for that. She’s always just a little too pushy.”

Erin frowns a this before nodding to herself and you. She decides that she was going to have to run interference if this Claire showed up again. She leaves you alone after that to go back to work, and you almost forgot that you’d texted Billie when your phone beeps. You jump slightly in surprise before looking to what she wrote.

Who is it that’s bothering you? One of your coworkers?

You look back to the messages you sent to her as if you’d forgotten and cringe at how you let Claire rile you up this much.

This bitch won’t leave me alone.

Her cat’s a little shit too.

Okay, so maybe this had been a little unnecessary. Sure Claire was kind of a bitch and annoying, but you probably shouldn’t have said this. She just wouldn’t leave you alone no matter what you did, and now she was showing up at your work? Next thing you knew she’d be showing up at your damn front door.

The part about her cat was true though. He was a little shit.

You type a response before returning to your records. You write up the last details for Claire’s cat, you’d been waiting until everything else was done before doing that, before heading downstairs. It’s almost 1:30, so you only have about half an hour until your next appointment. You take the steps two at a time going down on your way to the kennels. You see Milo sleeping and smile as he jumps up at the sound of the door opening.

“Hey, Milo. Want to go out?”

He nearly knocks you over in his excitement to get out. You curse before grabbing onto Milo’s harness to lead him outside. As soon as you reach the yard and make sure it is empty, you release Milo and watch him run away. He pees here and there before coming back to jump on the bench that you were sitting on. You sighed before standing up and grabbing a frisbee and holding it up with a smile.

“Ready?”

Milo runs after the frisbee until he’s exhausted and panting ten minutes later. He’s lying in the grass with the frisbee near his mouth because he still had to hold onto it so you wouldn’t take it from him. You walk over to him because you figure he needs to go inside for some water, but Milo grabs the frisbee when he sees you coming. He runs away despite still panting and you sigh as you watch your dog run around with his frisbee. You decide it’s a lost cause and leave him to play with it for a minute as you run inside really quickly to grab something.

You nearly run into Erin on your way inside, but you stop just in time before shooting her an apologetic look.

“Sorry, Erin.”

She waves you off before glancing outside. “Milo out there?”

You just nod and she asks if she can take the twins out there. The ‘twins’ are two golden retrievers that are boarding for about a month while their home is under construction. They’re super sweet like most goldens and Milo loves them. You smile before nodding and continuing on your way into the clinic. You don’t make it very far before you’re stopped again.

“Dr. Y/L/N!”

You turn at the sound of someone calling your name. One of the receptionists is holding a large arrangement of flowers that almost completely hides their face. You smile about to ask who they were for before she hands them to you.

“For you. Do you want me to put them in your office?”

You shoot her a confused look and it takes you a second to respond. You eventually shake you head before reaching out to take them from her. You thank her before watching as she heads back up front before you look to the flowers again.

They’re beautiful and bright and they smell wonderful. The arrangement is a mix of roses, lilies and a couple other flowers you didn’t know the name of. You were halfway up the stairs before you attempted to look for a card. It was hidden and you couldn’t pull it from the flowers easily. You set the vase down on your desk before freeing the card from the petals and flipping it over to read what was written.

Can’t wait to see you tonight.

Billie Dean.

You smile at the note before tucking it away somewhere safe. You were touched that Billie would surprise you like this and you couldn’t wait for tonight either.

It was going to be different from any of your previous dates. You were going to cook because you had been wanting to since you found out how much take-out Billie ate, and it was going to be at her house so you could see the kittens. You were only a little nervous about going over to Billie’s house again, but you were determined not to make it a big deal.

It had only been a few weeks since you met, but you hadn’t felt like how you did with Billie, with anyone else. Certainly not with your horrible exes. Billie Dean made you feel comfortable in a way that no one else ever had. She was different. Obviously because she was a medium, but honestly that wasn’t the difference that mattered to you. You hadn’t been lucky enough to be with someone that was as considerate and understanding as Billie. She never faulted you for your awkward and depressing past, and she was busier than you were so the sporadic texts and the even more sporadic dates didn’t upset her like you feared it would.

You’re pulled from your thoughts by the sound of yet someone else calling your name. This time however it was more frantic than you were expecting and you hurried out of your office. You’re met at the stairs by a slightly panicked Lindsey who must have been on lunch because she still had half of it in her hand.

“What’s is it? Is something wrong?”

Lindsey just hurries back down the stairs and opens the door to treatment. You follow her without question as she nods and fills you in on what’s going on.

“Milo was playing with the twins and he got stuck in the fence chasing the frisbee.”

You have to hold in your groan of disbelief because of course your overzealous and slightly impulsive dog would do this. You just mutter an okay under your breath before heading back out into the yard where you see Erin and Mina standing beside your screaming dog. He’s thrashing and trying to pull himself out, but he’s pretty stuck and really must have been running full speed.

You run over to the trio to try and calm Milo down because it seems like he really is stuck. You crouch down next to him on his right before reaching out for the panicked shepherd.

“Hey! Milo, hey, hi. It’s me, you’re okay. Shh, it’s okay, buddy.”

You reach through the bars of fence to pet Milo’s head and he calms enough for you not to be worried about him injuring himself further. You look him over quickly and don’t see any blood immediately, but then you reach his head and you see some dripping from his nose. You sigh in frustration as you try to figure out what the best thing to do is.

“Could you run inside and get a couple of towels and some lube?”

You figure that’s the best thing to get him out of this jam and you watch as both Erin and Mina leave, the latter leading the twins inside so they don’t get in the way. You turn back to your dog who is still panting in either exertion or stress, you’re not sure, and you do your best to keep him calm while you wait for your supplies.

“It’s okay Milo. You’re alright. We’re going to get you out, okay?”

Milo just whines before he turns to lick your hand that had been scratching his neck. You realize that you should probably take off his harness if you hope to slide him back through the fence, but you only get it halfway off before it becomes stuck.

“Dammit.”

Erin returns first and she stands back a little not sure if you want help before she speaks up.

“Anything I can do?”

You nod before motioning for the brunette to come closer so you can show her what you’re trying to do. If you pull on his harness while Erin pushes him away from the fence post a bit you might be able to get it off. You explain this and Erin just nods before moving to put her hands on Milo.

“Sorry buddy.”

It works but Milo yelps as you do it, so you decide to leave the other side be. Maybe you can slide him forward enough on the other side and figure it out from there. He was trapped from just behind his shoulders with most of his body still inside the yard, so maybe you could just pull him back in. When Mina arrives with the towels and what looks like all of the lube in the hospital, you relay the plan and put on the gloves that Mina luckily had the foresight to bring.

“Okay, Milo. We’re going to put this on you and try to slide you out alright?”

You know that he’s not going to respond or even really comprehend what you’re saying, but you know that hearing your voice will calm him down. He’s always been anxious when having things done to him and this was going to be worse due to the fact that he’s already highly stressed before anything has even begun.

You start to rub some of the lube on his right shoulder through the fence while Mina and Erin take his left side. Milo turns as they talk to him too, but is unable to see and growls as they touch him.

“Hey, Milo, stop that. They’re just trying to help you, okay?”

You try to keep going, you even move one of your hands to his left side but it doesn’t help. Milo just gets antsier and he’s growling louder before you realize it’s not working. You can’t be mad at him for being scared. He doesn’t know what’s going on and he can’t see them so he’s distrustful.

You make the decision to switch sides with them so he can see them and just hear you on his blind side. You berate yourself for not doing this initially because Milo immediately calms down and his tail starts to wag as you scratch him between his shoulder blades.

“Good boy, Milo. Almost done okay?”

Now that Mio is sufficiently lubed, you try and slide him back through the bars. You manipulate one of his legs forward to try and slide him backwards but he’s still too wide. You instruct Erin and Mina to do the same and Milo’s legs are stretched out as far forward as they can go before you try again. You have to readjust as Erin moves to pull him from behind, and you breathe a sigh of relief as Milo finally slides back into the yard. You hold onto him as his head whips around to see who’s at his rear end, and you look at his nose carefully before taking his harness off completely. You try to wipe off some of the lube with the towels, but it’s no use. Milo’s too excited about being freed and he’s already shaking it everywhere anyway.

“Look at you Milo. You’re a mess, huh? You need a bath.”

He just licks your face and you groan in annoyance before thanking both of your helpers. You scratch your dog behind his ears for another few seconds before you stand up and motion for him to follow you.

“No more frisbee for a while, okay?”

It turns out that Milo’s a little sorer than anticipated and after his bath he yelps when you reach underneath him to pick him up. You try again more carefully before just letting him jump up on you. You regret this immediately once all 70+ lbs of him is in your arms, but you put him down quickly as he shakes all of the water off of him. You groan in disgust before covering him with a towel and attempting to dry him off.

He whines when you put him in the kennel with the blow dryer, but you have to get to your appointment. You’ll check on him afterwards, but for now you have to go see a dog about some skin issues.

“I’ll be back Milo. Be good.”

It’s 4 before you are able to take the time to examine Milo again. You are in between appointments when you pull him out of his kennel and bring him into treatment. You brush him out because he looks like a mess and as you’re doing that you notice he’s a little sensitive along his ribs. Not that you’re shocked. He’d forced himself through a damn hole he shouldn’t have been able to fit through.

You listened to him and didn’t find anything else wrong and decided to just give him a little something for the pain that would be worse tomorrow. Your next appointment arrives as you are finishing up with him but it’s taking you a minute to get Milo to take his pill. He’s always been horrible about taking medication.

“Dr. Y/L/N. Billy’s here.”

You’re a little confused by this and you turn to Erin with a frown. You’re currently holding open Milo’s mouth to try and shove this pill down his throat when you realize what she means. Billy. The cat with arthritis.

“Right okay, what’s going on with him?”

Billie Dean checks her phone again once she’s done with work. She hasn’t heard from you yet which makes her think you’re still working. It’s nearly 6:30 which is a little late for you, but she decides to just head home and get things ready.

Other than taking care of the kittens and making sure there were clean dishes for you two to use, she didn’t have much she could do. You had refused to tell her what you were cooking and had insisted on shopping yourself. Billie was already in the car when her phone rang. She answers it without looking to see who it is because she’s driving, but she doesn’t have to wonder long.

“Hello?”

“Hi! Billie I’m so sorry for not calling you sooner! Things got crazy here. Milo got stuck in a fence, a dog came in after getting hit by a car, but thank you so much! The flowers are beautiful!”

Billie chuckles under her breath at your flustered state, but then she registers everything that you said and she frowns in concern.

“I’m glad you liked them, Y/N. Did you say that Milo got stuck in a fence? Is he okay?”

You turned around to glance in the back seat briefly to see him fast asleep. He was exhausted from his exciting day and probably would sleep the rest of the night.

“Yeah, he was having too much fun with some friends and a frisbee and ended up halfway through an iron fence.”

Billie shakes her head at the image this conjures up and she sighs as she turns into her driveway.

“Aw poor baby.”

You laugh at this before pulling up to your apartment building. You still had to go shopping to get groceries, but you had to make sure that Milo was situated first. You weren’t sure how long you would be gone and were a little stressed by this, but you would figure it out.

“Yeah, he had a rough day.”

You both were silent as you turn off your cars and consider what to say next. You were trying to figure out how much time you needed to take care of Milo and shop before you could head over to Billie’s. Billie was trying to figure out things for Milo as well, but you hadn’t even considered what she suggested.

“How was your day?”

“Do you want to bring him?”

You both speak at the same time and it takes you a second to realize what she’s said. You shake your head as you turn around to see Milo still out cold. You hoped you wouldn’t have to carry him. Again.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just get him set up here before heading to the store.”

Billie’s already out of her car by the time she responds. She doesn’t mind either way, but she has a feeling she knows what you want to do. Not to mention, she supposes that the kittens need to be socialized and Bit possibly scared obedient. As if that would ever work.

“Would you feel better if you brought him?”

You don’t answer immediately which is honestly the only answer that Billie needs. You’re thinking about how you would love to bring him along because you’d be able to watch him and you could see how Milo would act around the kittens. You had always wanted a cat, and you supposed now was as good a time as any to see how it might work. Or not. As long as Billie didn’t mind.

Eventually you answer and Billie has to force herself not to smile smugly at how well she knew you already.

“I guess. I don’t want you to feel obligated though. I can’t exactly promise that he won’t get hair everywhere!”

You jump out of your car quickly before opening the back door startling Milo awake. He sits up quickly and you reach into the back seat and unbuckle him before grabbing his leash. He jumps to the ground a little more carefully than he usually would before you hear Billie reply.

“I want you to do whatever you need, Y/N. I’m fine either way. You know I adore Milo.”

You smile at this as you look to your dog who is yawning as you walk to the elevator. You suppose that you can take him with you. He might actually enjoy it. You just had to make sure he behaved and didn’t hurt any of the kittens. Billie said this before you got a chance to and you laugh as you nod in agreement.

“We’ll just have to see how he plays along with the kittens.”

You follow Milo into the elevator before leaning against the wall with a sigh. You suppose it’s decided then. You feel your excitement for tonight increasing again, now that you know Milo won’t be home alone. You just smile as the doors close and you take a deep breath.

“We will. I’ll feed him and then be over in about an hour. Does that work?”

Billie’s nodding before she greets Heather who is with Mickey in the living room.

“I’ll see you both then.”

Part 9

#american horror story #ahs fic #ahs #my ffic #ahs murder house #billie dean howard x reader #billie dean howard imagine #billie dean howard #a little bit #IS IT TOO LATE TO TAG THIS AS SLOW BURN???#Y'all I promise it's coming

50 notes · View notes

lilydalexf · 4 years

Photo

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

Interview with Jenna Tooms

Jenna Tooms has 37 stories at Gossamer, plus you can find X-Files stories and more by her at AO3 (as misslucyjane). I've recced some of my favorites of her fics here before, including the MSR Christmas story An Acceptable Level of Happiness and the historical AU Katherine of Ireland. Big thanks to Jenna for doing this interview.

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

Yes, definitely. I had no idea there was still an active X-Files fandom.

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

For the most part, it was pretty good. I made a lot of great friends that I'm still in contact with, and I think I learned a lot (by trial and error) about how to behave online. Writing fanfic with a built-in audience did a lot for my confidence as a writer.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Message boards at first, then mostly email mailing lists.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

Writing fic made me a better writer. Fandom has introduced to a lot of amazing people.

But there were some bad feelings, mostly the vitriol directed at Doggett and Reyes, towards the end of the series that ruined the rest of it for me. I've kind of held back from getting super-involved in fandom since.

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

I've always liked things like ghost stories and cryptozoology, so that drew me in at first. I think my first episode was The Host in summer reruns, as I was working Friday nights at the time and only learned about it from my dorm mates. We lived together again in an off-campus apartment a year or two later, and by then XF was on Sunday nights so that was our standing Sunday night appointment TV.

I feel old.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I knew what fanfic was, more or less, and had been writing since Star Wars: A New Hope was originally released. When I first wanted to get involved in XF fandom I went looking for other fans, and found the OBSSE (Order of the Blessed Saint Scully the Enigmatic) newsletter, which had fanfic recs. I can't remember what story it was specifically but I'm pretty sure it was by MustangSally.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

Like an ex whose good times were very, very good, but whose bad times were horrid.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

I've been involved, to various degrees, in Harry Potter, Supernatural, Doctor Who/Torchwood, MCU, and Sherlock fandoms, and dabbled in a few smaller ones.

I've also playing in a multi-fandom role-play game since 2004, that introduced me to some great fandoms and some amazing people. The game is kind of a fandom in itself, and is the only thing I've been as intensely involved in as X-Files.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

Dana Scully, Steve Rogers, Sherlock Holmes (any incarnation), Deadpool, Sansa Stark, Aang, Groot, Peter Parker, Wonder Woman. Yes, I am looking at my Funko Pops :).

I tend to like characters who are trying to do good in the world, or who stay strong in the face of adversity. I have no explanation for Deadpool except that he's Deadpool.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

No, not really. I haven't watched the new series or any of the movies since the first one. I think of Mulder and Scully fondly, but I don't feel the need to revisit them.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

X-Files, no. If I come along something promising in a fandom I'm interested in like the MCU or Sherlock, or if something is recommended by someone whose taste I trust or written by an author I ready like, then I'll read it.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

I really liked bugs, Rachel Anton, David Hearne, Plausible Deniability, Penumbra, Terma99, and OneMillionStars, I think their pen name was? [Lilydale note: I think this is Onemillionandnine.] Some stories I liked are "Condemned to Repeat It" [Lilydale note: by Branwell], "Cherry Ripe" by Rachel Anton [Lilydale note: co-written with Laura Blaurosen], "Cadenza" (part 1, part 2) by Terma99, and "Twelve Inches" by Federal Dust. There were more but all my saved files were lost several computers ago.

[Lilydale note: try as I might, I could not find “Twelve Inches” online, not even a mention of it. However, I have a copy saved from 2003 (!!). It’s a season 8 story with the summary “In trying to understand his own feelings about women and relationships, Doggett inadvertently helps Scully understand Mulder.”].

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

Favorite X-Files fic is Draw Down the Moon, a Scully/Doggett post-canon AU.

Favorite in general is Apocalyptic Love Songs, a Supernatural Dean/Castial fic I wrote for a Big Bang challenge. I'd had the idea for a modern-day Grail quest for a long time -- originally as an XF fic, in fact -- but could never figure out how to do it until Supernatural came along.

(Because of the actions of some unscrupulous persons, all my fic on AO3 is locked to members.)

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

No, I don't see that happening.

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

I write a little fanfic now and then, mostly for Yuletide or other challenges that catch my eye.

I have been writing and publishing original work since 2007 with a small publisher that is now shut down. I'm now publishing independently.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

It's hard to say. Sometimes I hear a line or two of dialogue in my head and want to see where the conversation goes. Sometimes I just have a random thought of "What if..." and have to find the answer to that question.

What's the story behind your pen name?

I get bored of names easily so I've changed it a few times. I currently write fic as Misslucyjane, which is a nickname my mother calls me.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

They knew I write it, they don't know the content. I'm okay with that.

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

Fanfic is at misslucyjane.me (though I haven't updated it in ages) and Archive of Our Own (as misslucyjane). Original fiction, largely M/M romance, is posted or linked at jennalynnbrown.com. I hang out on Twitter as @misslucyjane.

(Posted by Lilydale on September 22, 2020)

#new post #old school x #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #xf fanfic author interviews #jenna tooms

48 notes · View notes

justwritingscibbles · 4 years

Text

Wilford Warfstache Commission

Heya Lovelies!

Here is my completed fluff commission for @breebrielle with her OC Nova and Wilford Warfstache.

Warnings: Mentions of blood and guns

If you’d like a Commission please first look at my Commission Rules Page. I am holding reserves for commissions until I complete a few more pieces of writing. 3 slots remain.

This week had been a disaster.

The studio was a chaotic tornado of producers and assistants and everyone in between. Papers were scattered over the ground, hurriedly being picked up by those that dropped them. Coffee stained shirts were hastily covered up with jackets and scarves. And rushed greetings were merely quick nods and glances of mild sympathy. Nova stood by the studio entrance with a look of transfixed confusion. Her morning beverage held in her left hand and the paperwork from the previous week was held tightly against her chest.

She didn’t dare take a step forward until there was a break in the rushed traffic of bodies. She caught glimpses of pale expressions and terrified eyes almost wide enough that they’d fall out. It wasn’t usual to see this many people bustling around like this. Especially since it was the end of the week. They rushed to get whatever they failed to do during the week prior done. And done quickly so they didn’t have to have overtime or pass over to the weekend. Nova sighed heavily and started to zig-zag her way through the crowd. Barely managing to hold onto her beverage and not spill it on herself while people rushed past her.

The safety of her office was only a turn away. And the sweet, quiet and none crowded room was a relieving thought. At least she could take a quick break to enjoy her drink and possibly read through the missed emails. However, Nova wasn’t so lucky. In the crowd that swarmed around her, those that noticed her, gave her a relieved look. A particularly new producer was the first to greet her. Looking on the verge of tears when she came over. Catching Nova’s elbow just before she entered her office.

“Oh, thank God. You’re late!” The Producer gasped. And Nova had a chance to peer at her watch before being dragged into the fray of running people.

“I’m five minutes early.” Nova muttered. Almost tripping over her own feet as she was pulled through the endless halls and corridors. “What’s going on?”

“Wilford…” The Producer seemed too terrified to explain herself. But Nova didn’t quite need any more information. She knew Wilford could get… trigger-happy. But even then, the Ambulance would turn up and cart the wounded person away. Or someone else was called and would take the body away if the wound did more than bleed a little. After that, people moved on and carried on working like nothing else had happened.

But this was more than a gleeful bullet to the chest. Something else has happened. And before Nova could ask again, the Producer threw open the main studio doors and Nova was met with a sight that caused her drink to drop from her hands. Blood. Torn sets and broken equipment. Body bags lined up against the wall where men in dark clothing were carrying them through the back door and into the side alley outside. Wilford sat on the stage. Head bowed and gun still in his hand. Loosely dangling from his fingers as his shoulders slowly rose and fell with gentle, deep breaths.

“He’s been like that for a while now.” The Producer whispered to Nova. She had stepped behind Nova, as if about to use her as a shield. “He…He was fine when he came in to read the scripts for the next episode. But then… I don’t know. He just pulled out his gun and killed everyone in the room.”

Nova frowned. Her stomach was churning and she felt light-headed. I’ve already been through enough this week… Why did he have to go through a slaughter on a Friday? Nova thought to herself.

Nova wasn’t a producer or a script writer. She had been hired at first as a personal assistant for one of the editors of the Studio. Eventually, she found out that the Studio was running five different shows. All cast with one man. And she ended up working for all of the editors of each show. Getting them coffee, running between their offices with manuscripts and copied notes from their partnering editor. She only met Wilford six months into her employment and Nova quickly found herself as Wilford’s right-hand girl. Not entirely sure how or why, other than that they got on very well and occasionally Nova brought donuts in for everyone. She climbed the ladder of the Studio in a matter of days. Going from getting people coffee, to giving Wilford gentle suggestions on his shows or performances. Assuring editors they wouldn’t be shot for a spelling mistake and hurrying people out of Wilford’s way when he was in that mood of his. Nova was nowhere near confident enough to get in front of a camera, or outwardly snark at Wilford for shooting someone. She was content sticking to the shadows and giving Wilford the thumbs up anytime he hit a snag on his lines.

But this was new.

Nova had never seen him kill more than his weekly quota of one employee and four contestants. This was at least four weeks’ worth of bodies. How on Earth was she going to manage this much paperwork? The Producer had disappeared sometime during Nova’s little inner thoughts. And Wilford had moved his posture so he had his gun hand resting on his knee. Finger still dangerously near the trigger. From here, Nova could see his face. He looked tired. Sorrowful, almost. And the bright pink moustache was drooped. No longer as vibrant as it was before.

“W-Wilford?” Nova risked stepping forward. The smell of gunpowder from his gun was still a rich reminder to her. She hated his guns. Hated that he carried them everywhere! They were loud. Echoing in the Studio rooms and every time it went off, Nova was left shaking and needing to hide until her breathing had calmed. She was in no position to keep her composure if he fired that gun again. The massive room reeked of it, mixing with the hard spike of blood and bile. “Wilford what happened?”

He didn’t answer. That was worrying. Usually Wilford would be happy to rant or explain why he had hurt someone.

“They’ll come back. They always do.” Was his favourite excuse. And Nova had longed since given up trying to explain that when people died, they didn’t come back. He was like a child. Never expecting people to leave for too long. And that they’d always come back to him eventually.

“Wilford…” Nova had reached him now. Her steps were shaky and she didn’t dare touch him. She was still very unsure on how to approach this situation. Instead, she moved to sit beside him. Keeping a little distance between them in case Wilford didn’t want to be touched. But he didn’t move. His trigger finger was gently stroking the side of his gun. His eyes down-cast, unseeing, but staring at a pool of blood that was spreading slowly over the timber flooring.

Nova squirmed a little. She still clutched the paperwork against her chest. It had been last month’s ratings. And they were incredibly high compared to the former months. Thinking that this news would help stir a reaction, Nova showed Wilford the papers. Explaining the praises from critics and the high reactions from audiences. It excited Nova to see his eyes move from the blood to the papers. But he gave no other reaction. Sighing inwardly, Nova bundled up the paperwork against her chest again and tried her best to sound sympathetic. Her voice shook a little.

“Is there anything I can do?” Nova asked. Maybe he needed a pick me up. A nice sugary sweetie or caramel coffee with tablespoons of sugar.

This time, Wilford did not ignore Nova. He turned his eyes to her. A distant look crossing his face as he gazed at her. “You can’t do anything. You’re not Celine.”

The words dropped like daggers. Nova knew about Celine. She’s heard stories about her from the other workers. Maddened mutterings came from Wilford at times about Celine and it wounded her to hear venom come from this man when Nova’s only intentions was to help. But it was obvious he didn’t need her right now. His mind was fixed on another. Nova tried her best to sound calm. But being in the limelight of Wilford’s gaze right now was possibly more frightening than the gun that was clenched in his hands.

“Do you want me to leave?” Nova asked and Wilford twitched. Making her recoil when his knuckles turned white around the weapon. Nova didn’t wait for him to answer. She sprinted across the studio and burst through the doors.

She ran until she was in the lobby of the building. Panting, finding it hard to breathe. Other employees hurried over, crowding her. And she tried to push their worried hands away from her. She needed space. There was no air around her. They pressed too close and when she tried to push them away, they grabbed her hand and squeezed. Their concerned voices turning to mutterings in her ears.

“Get away from her.” The voice cut through the muttering crowd like a sword. And everyone seemed to vanish the moment Darkiplier stepped towards them. Nova ignored him as he approached. Concentrating on getting deep breaths into her lungs and slow exhales through her mouth. Dark kept silent beside her. Acting as a barrier between Nova and the worried onlookers that passed. No doubt Nova’s incapability to calm Wilford was even more worrying than the countless bodies Wilford had dropped.

She had been their last hope to get him working again. And now with a friend of Wilford’s in the building, people were starting to trickle out of the main room and disappear into their offices and studios. “What are you doing here?” Nova croaked. Her throat felt dry and the shakiness in her hands had worsened. Crinkling the paper she held in her clenched fingers. But Dark’s presence was something she could concentrate on.

He rarely came to the Studio. Whether he hated the building or being around Wilford, Nova wasn’t sure. She’s never spoken to Dark for more than a few minutes during her employment. But whenever Wilford acted out and no one could get him under control, Dark was the first to be notified. During her time here, its only happened once.

“I’m the one they call to organize body collections.” Dark offered as an explanation. And Nova made sense of that. She never questioned where the men dress in black came from or who called them. She was just always happy she wasn’t the one to call them.

“I’m sorry. I know Wilford went over his quota…” Nova didn’t have an excuse this time. The only big conversation Nova had ever had with Darkiplier was about Wilford’s new body quota. It kept him from killing or wounding too many people, and it was set as a challenge for the showman. If he kept it under the quota, he was rewarded. If he went over, something of his was taken away. Wilford answered to no one. And feared no one. But there was only one person that he would nod in reluctant agreement with; and that was Darkiplier. Wilford is like a child. Nova thought to herself. And Dark is the irritated, tired parent.

“I’ll deal with him. But right now, I need to talk to you.” Dark replied. He gestured for Nova to follow him, keeping to her side until they reached a secluded, unused office nearby.

Nova glimpsed many weird looks from other workers walking past. Sneaking a look at the infamous Darkiplier before he closed the door behind him. He gestured for Nova to sit in the chair across the desk, and Dark seated himself behind the table. Suddenly, Nova got a rush of anxiety. In this instant, Darkiplier looked like a CEO about to fire her over Wilford’s mishaps. Nova hoped she wasn’t about to get a scolding. She couldn’t take that right now.

“What do you know about Celine?” Dark asked.

The question caught Nova off guard. She had been given many warnings about speaking the woman’s name in Dark’s presence. Nova didn’t understand Dark’s link to Celine other than Mr. Bim’s words of “they are…very close…”

But from what Nova could gather, Celine was dead. Or at least has been missing for many years. Wilford and Darkiplier were a confusing lot so Nova very rarely gave thought to their personal lives. Not that she knew much about them in the first place. “I know… that her and Wilford were together once.” Nova said uncertainly. She did know that Celine had loved Wilford. But at that time, Wilford… hadn’t been Wilford. Again, Nova had to remind herself she knew almost nothing of her Boss other than his business life. Only snippets of information were given to her through gossip.

If Dark had found Nova’s answer amusing or irritating, he didn’t show it. But his hands were laid out in the desk, intertwined as he leaned forward to speak. “They were lovers once, yes. But their relationship fell apart due to a bad situation. Every so often, he is reminded of that. And he changes. It is best that you shut down the Studio until he recovers from this memory.”

“Shut down the Studio?” The words blurted out of Nova’s mouth in a flurry of shock. “That would lose us so much money! And the people here would be out of work.”

“It is in everyone’s best interest and safety to shut this building down until Wilford recovers.” Dark calmly replied. “You saw him. He’s on the verge of another killing. He will most likely fire at-”

Dark cut himself off suddenly. His eyes boring into Nova as he looked her over. She was currently running her hands through her blonde hair. Ruffling it up from its neatly preened style to a mess of waves and curls. She was panicking. The whole week had been nothing but paperwork and phone calls and emails trying to smooth over the last manslaughter and rumours from other studios. She’s stepped between lawyers and furious employees. Ushering Wilford out of the building until authorities came to take away the screaming persons. But not a single scar or blemish could be spotted on her. And Dark snapped his gaze up to meet Nova’s eyes.

“Has Wilford ever shot at you?” Dark asked. And Nova, again, was caught off guard. Her worried mutterings coming to a halt to stare at Dark.

“What? N-No. I’ve never given him a reason too.” Nova responded. Suddenly very fidgety under Dark’s cool stare. Why was he staring? It was making her very uncomfortable.

“Wilford never needs a reason to shoot someone.” Dark said. Almost absently, like he was thinking over his words.

Nova didn’t respond. She didn’t like how he leaned back in the desk chair and once again, looked her over. “You’ve worked closely with Wilford for months. And he has never harmed you? Even accidentally?”

Where was he going with this? “No. He once slapped my drink out of my hand while practicing for his show. He bought me ten other drinks to make up for it.”

Nova couldn’t hold Dark’s gaze. It was like an anvil pressing down on her shoulders. Making it hard to breathe again. The silence stretched and Nova had to concentrate on anything else but Dark. She looked around the room. It was fairly empty apart from unused filing cabinets and the desk. A few shelves lined the walls with old props and a few knick-knacks forgotten by the previous owner of the office. Nova didn’t remember if anyone ever used this room while she’s worked here.

“Would you like to go get something to eat?” Dark asked abruptly. And this time, there wasn’t just a stare, but a small gasp that escaped Nova’s lips. Surely, she misheard him. After all this time of almost ignoring her, like he did with everyone else in the building. He was asking for a lunch date? Maybe not a date, but an outing no less. And Nova had no words. Gasping like a fish out of water only to then blurt out suddenly;

“Oh, um… sure?” She replied. Like a switch in her brain suddenly was flicked.

And Dark smiled. A small patient grin, but no less a smile. And Nova has never seen him smile before. This entire conversation was… so wildly strange that Nova was starting to prefer sitting next to Wilford and his gun.

“Great. Come, then. I know a quiet café near here we can go to.” Dark stood and led the way out of the office. Nova hurriedly stood and followed him. Leaving the papers on the chair in the empty office. As if transfixed into doing so. She was so shocked by the sudden offer of lunch with Dark, that she didn’t notice the lobby was almost empty of people. But Wilford stood nearby, speaking with a few of the black clothed men. Studio workers rushed here and there, trying to stay as far away from Wilford as possible.

Nova didn’t notice him look over. But Dark did. Their eyes met, and Dark merely moved closer to Nova. His hand gliding over hers, so gently she felt nothing. But Wilford’s sudden flash of rage in his eyes told the other man that he saw everything. Dark had a car waiting outside. Nothing ridiculously fancy. But a casual car Nova could have imagined The Darkiplier driving around in. He held the door open for her, still wearing that small smile as she slid inside and he closed the door behind her.

The driver was hidden behind a tinted window behind the two front seats. The interior of the vehicle was luxurious to say the least. The leather was a dark colour, soft to the touch with not even a creak as Nova buckled herself in. Dark slid in beside her on the other side of the car and the driver opened the small window as the door closed. Dark spoke softly to the driver. Giving him the name of the café and with a gentle roar of the engine, the Driver pulled away from the Studio and onto the road. There was a heavy silence in the car as they drove. Nova wasn’t entirely sure what to say. She shouldn’t be going out to lunch right now. It wasn’t even time for lunch. Not that Dark actually invited her to lunch, but to get something to eat. Nova wasn’t even that hungry! And there was so much paperwork to do, and now with Wilford’s killing spree she would have a lot more to do! She closed her eyes for a moment. Trying not to think too much on it.

Maybe getting out of the Studio till things calmed down was good. Wilford was in no way fit to discuss the matter. And Dark would probably be a better person to talk too about getting everything back on track. He wasn’t in charge of the Studio, but he still held a vote on how it was run.

Nova sighed and Dark turned his gaze back onto her. “Stop worrying about the Studio. Wilford has run that building for years before you. It’ll be ok.” Not only was he taking Nova out for some café food, but now he’s comforting her? This day was just getting weirder.

“I know. But now I’m here, and now I’m the one everyone looks at whenever Wilford does something.” Nova replied. She then thought about the rating papers. It seemed so irrelevant now. This morning she was so excited to show Wilford. And now they were empty numbers.

And with the Studio possibly being shut down for a time, those ratings would lower quickly.

“Every time someone messes up. They come to me for protection from Wilford. Like I’m some sort of shield from his bullets. Which by the way, is such a horrible thing to do! Use someone else as a shield?! These people knew what they were getting into when they were hired. It’s in their contracts. In big, bold writing! And yet they still seem so surprised when Wilford shoots someone. And then I’m the one who gets yelled at because I let him have a gun! I’d really like to see them try and hide it from Wilford. The stupid man can sniff it out! No matter where I hide it, he gets it back!” Nova took a deep breath. Her outburst had all been one big exhale in a vomit of words and gestures. She didn’t feel any better, but it helped to get it off her chest. “I’ve even put that gun in a safe and thrown it into the river. An experiment of mine to see how far Wilford would go. When I returned from the river, Wilford had the gun in his holster and the safe was in my office.” Nova didn’t expect Dark to have an answer to that. She never figured out how Wilford did it. At this point in her career, someone could say he was magic and Nova would agree. Not even a glimmer of surprise in her expression.

“And now this. A slaughter over a girl who, I’m suspecting, broke his heart or disappeared. Which means that he’s probably going to do this again. And I’m going to have to deal with it…again.” Another sigh escaped Nova’s lips and she glanced at Dark. He hadn’t moved his eyes off of her. Allowing her to spew out the rant with no interruptions or even a disapproving glare. He waited a moment. Seeming to expect more to come out of her. But when she said nothing more, Dark placed a hand on Nova’s thigh, closest to her knee.

“You do a lot for my friend. And I’m grateful for your help. But you do burden yourself with a lot of the harsh side of this business. Especially the side of things you have no control over.” Nova fidgeted as Dark removed his hand. The sudden cool touch had shocked her thoughts into a gentle hum. It was a relief.

“Thank you. Why don’t you work at the Studio? You’re help would make a huge difference.” Nova had always wanted to ask Dark this. She wasn’t even sure what he did as a job, or if he had a job. All she knew about him was that he and Wilford were friends. Or what Nova would consider friends when they only spoke when a murder had occurred. And Wilford respected Dark enough that he didn’t riddle the suited man with bullets or have him thrown out. Even when he said something that Wilford clearly didn’t agree with.

“I’m more of a background man.” Dark replied, flicking imaginary flint from his trousers. “I don’t like being in the spotlight or working under somebody else. I run my own business elsewhere. But I have to keep my friend in line, so I’m never too far-away.”

If Nova didn’t know any better; there was a hidden meaning under Dark’s words. His gaze gave nothing away, and his answer was frustratingly vague. She expected him to explain that he ran his own law firm or maybe was an underground mob boss. He was always dressed so promptly, that Nova had a few guesses to what Dark worked as. But all she truly knew, was that he could take bodies away and no police would go sniffing around the Studio. Even lawyers were terrified to get Dark involved. An advantage Nova had used many times to get someone to shut up. She didn’t like scaring people into silence. But if she wanted to keep Wilford safe from people suing him or attempting to get him thrown in jail; Nova always politely mentioned Dark as her “next in line contact”.

Nova frowned, “You know. We never interact but I do use your name a lot. You said you don’t like the Studio, but you do have a lot to do with it.”

Dark appeared to find her words amusing. The smile stretched a little and his cool gaze warmed with hidden laughter. “I do enjoy the emails I get from people sent by you. Mostly law firms that have been redirected from you. A lot of the time, they don’t seem to believe that I’m in your contacts.”

Nova shrugged. She never considered Dark to be a close contact. Even if they didn’t talk, she did a lot of shooing of people towards Darkiplier. They never contacted her again. And it was relief, that when they did need to contact her about something, it was always overly polite. “To be honest, whenever I can’t get someone to leave Wilford alone, you are the next contact I give them. Sorry that I dump that on you. But you are kinda like my Bogey-Man.” Nova truly didn’t feel guilty. It was kind of thrilling having a name in her contact list that people seemed to fear.

She never wanted to know what Dark said or did to get people to basically run, tail between their legs, away from the Studio. “Don’t be. I find them entertaining to receive.” Dark replied. The car began to slow, pulling up alongside a street of cafes and bars. “Some people are too cocky to be in this sort of business. And it is… fun to watch that pride of owning a law firm or having the money to buy the best lawyers, crack under the pressure of a few small emails.”

“That…is terrifying…” Nova muttered under her breath. And Darkiplier smiled a grin that Nova never wanted to see again.

“I was born to be a villain, Nova. And I’m far too good at it to be polite.” Dark purred. Turning his gaze to the door as his Driver pulled into the parking spot and got out. The Driver then opened Dark’s door and the man smoothly stepped out. Waiting for Nova to scoot over to his side and offer his hand to help her out.

“I might use that line for our next show. If you don’t mind of course.” Nova wanted to keep the light heartedness intact. Tension made her nervous, and she was already on edge just being around Dark. Not knowing what to say or do in his presence.

“I’d be honoured. As long as the line is used in context to its meaning.” Dark replied. His hand cold on hers as he helped her to stand. It felt strange. Like her hand wasn’t really touching him, but clearly reacting to him. Nova frowned. Unable to properly think on it as Dark removed his hand from hers and slid it down to her lower back. Guiding her into a small café. It looked no different to the countless other coffee shops Nova had been too.

It was tightly packed and smelled homely. Warm with the scents of hot beverages and tasty pastries. An older man, aged possibly around his mid-forties, smiled at Dark from across the café. Spotting him through the window, he began to hurry over to meet them. Dark held the door open for Nova. Chiming a small bell above her head as she stepped inside. The man, dressed in a black apron and comfortable white clothing, greeted them with small menus.

“Ah, Mr.Iplier, so good to see you again. It’s been a while. The usual spot?” The man asked. And Nova was surprised at how this man genuinely seemed happy to see Darkiplier.

The same business man that would arch an eyebrow and people would cower under his gaze. The man’s smile was broad and excited as Dark nodded, returning the familiarity with the waiter as they followed him through the café to the back. The booth the waiter provided sat against the wall. Brightly lit and snugly placed, Nova found herself sitting across from Dark with a menu in her hand. Hot and cold beverages lined the page, and when she flipped it over, small desserts and plates of sandwiches were displayed in elegant handwriting. All the while, the waiter chatted with Dark about the café and how their days were going. Idle talk until Dark looked down at his menu and scanned the choices.

“Are you going to have the usual serving, Mr.Iplier?” The waiter asked. His small notepad out and pen ready. Dark looked thoughtful for a moment. Glancing at Nova before smiling again and turning to the man.

“I’ll try something different; I think. But give us a moment to look it all over?” Dark asked. And the waiter nodded. Hurrying away to go about his business elsewhere.

“This is… not what I expected.” Nova murmured softly. She felt a lot better now. Seeing that the café was indeed a café and not some expensive coffee shop that served beverages in marble cups with gold spoons… though it did sound a little unrealistic now she thought about it.

“I enjoy the atmosphere here.” Dark sighed. Looking remarkably more relaxed as he looked over the menu. “It’s family owned. And the grandmother, the previous owner of this place, makes the bread served here. And the ingredients for their meals are locally produced. Ever since I had their dark roast, chocolate expresso here, I refuse to taste anything else.” Nova laughed. It was high praise coming from Darkiplier.

There was very little chatter between them as Nova looked over the short list of small meals and treats. They all sounded wonderful, and when the waiter returned, Nova still didn’t have any idea of what she wanted. “Come back to me.” Nova said softly, her eyes switching between a sandwich and a muffin on the menu. Silently saying “eenie meenie miney moe” in her head.

She briefly heard Dark order a coffee and a type of muffin for himself. The waiter tsked playfully, commenting how Darkiplier was trying to make it difficult for the servers. Mixing his traditional orders for something else would surely throw them off their day. The two chuckled good-heartedly. Giving Nova enough time to make a final decision. She read out her order, matching it with a warm beverage of her own and the waiter smiled his broad grin again.

“The special of the day, huh? It’s a newbie on the menu, so please give me some feedback on it. No one here likes too.” The waiter winked playfully and took their menus. He whisked away and gracefully weaved through the tables without looking up from his little notepad. Nova watched him go. Grinning to herself as she watched him halt by a table with a toddler, giving the parents some napkins and chuckling with the mother as she wiped up a glob of food from the toddler’s face.

“Hmm, I think our little lunch break will have to be cut short.” Darkiplier said, the strain to his voice made Nova look back around to him. His posture had stiffened. Like he was concentrating very hard on something, staring at the table and for a moment, Nova could have sworn his entire body…flickered red.

“Are you ok?” Nova asked. And Dark turned his gaze onto her, he seemed to be grinning.

“I’m surprised you can’t feel it.” He replied. And when Nova continued to look at him strangely, he chuckled softly. “Then it must only be me he went back for. I hope he hasn’t changed anything important.”

Nova blinked, a sharp pain piercing through her head as Dark’s form flickered once more. Blue this time. And as she opened her eyes, he was gone. Nova looked around the café. Nothing had changed. People chatted between themselves and sipped their drinks. Darkiplier had vanished right in front of her. Nova was so caught up in her confusion that she didn’t notice the waiter come back with two plates. A brightly coloured muffin with purple frosting on top in his left hand and a Nova’s order in the other.

“Is your date coming back?” The waiter asked. His smile a little down-trodden as he placed the plates in front of her. Nova went to reply but a man appeared behind the waiter, a big smile plastered under a finely combed pink moustache.

“Don’t worry, I would never leave a pretty lady by herself. She’ll eat my cupcake!” Wilford Warfstache replied, sliding into the booth across from Nova. The waiter smiled and said that their drinks will be right out. Wandering away like nothing had happened.

But Nova heard none of it. She stared at Wilford with her mouth hanging open. He looked totally fine. Not a hint of blood could be seen on him and his eyes sparkled their usual chocolate brown way.

“Where were we? I am horrible with conversations. The moment I leave, I forget everything that was said.” Wilford grinned, folding his hands around the cupcake in front of him. He licked his lips dramatically and lifted the treat to his mouth. Taking a ridiculously large bite out of it. Frosting and all.

“W-Where did Dark go?” Nova asked. Again, looking about the café. She saw only other customers; however, the toddler and her family had disappeared. And been replaced with a young couple sharing a plate of cookies with their coffees.

“Dark? Did he pop by? I always seem to miss the lovely man.” Wilford replied through a mouthful of purple frosting. And if Nova hadn’t known any better, she would have sworn there was a sharp bitterness to Wilford’s words.

She turned back to Wilford. Her stupefied stare now replaced with something along the lines of frustration. She was confused, and with her lack of understanding came a fresh wave of worry. She pushed it down, faintly managing to wrangle the flood of thoughts that started to make her fingers twitch and fidget with the fabric of her shirt. Wilford halted mid bite, noticing the slow build-up of Nova’s anxiety. He sighed and pulled the cupcake from his mouth. Chewing the remnants of what he bit off as he reached over and took Nova’s shaking hand.

“I’m sorry for jumping this on you…again” Wilford said, softly. Only loud enough that only she could hear him. “I know what I said this morning…hurt you. But Darkie was correct. I’m different when I remember… her. Even though I hurt you, I couldn’t let him swoon you like he always does.” Nova flinched at the venom in Wilford’s voice. It was so out of place. Hearing his kind, soft tone turn sour with a bitterness that would curdle milk.

“Swoon me?” Nova asked. She didn’t withdraw her hand from his. He was warm and the touch centred her; distracted her from spiralling. “Dark only took me out to lunch to distract me from what happened.”

Wilford barked a laugh. Making the tables closest to your booth glance over, startled by the loud noise. “Darkiplier always has an underlining agenda. I had to get him away from you before he tried something else.” Wilford’s thumb grazed over Nova’s skin. His eyes glowed a faint pink and Nova gasped softly. Sparkling like glitter in the light of the café. Startled, she drew back her hand and stared. His moustache was glimmering, almost illuminating its strands with a sprinkling light.

“But I want you to know something else as well. It will make it easier for you to… be around me.” Wilford said, his hand still on the table where Nova had left it. Open for her to return her fingers to intertwine with his. “Even if I don’t quite understand my lovely old self. I want to try to explain it to you. And that is the fun of it. I can do things, run around and change things to how I want it. I sometimes forget I have done it though. The consequences of my meddling can usually bite my lovely little behind, but I can do things. But… you already know this. You’ve guessed that I’m different.”

Nova didn’t know what to say. Part of her rejoiced; realizing that she was not in fact crazy and Wilford was indeed strange. The gun in the river now made sense. And perhaps with his influence, that all the craziness of the Studio just…worked. Because he made it work. But another part of her was too confused to accept it. To truly come to terms that Wilford had…magic? Was that what she would call it? Or did Wilford have his own word for it?

“Wait… you said… again.” Nova muttered. “You’ve…told me this before? When?”

Wilford nibbled on his lower lip. His fingers returning to wrap around his cupcake. “When you talk to Darkie, don’t you think its weird that his name is Darkiplier? Or that he wears my face? Or Bim in Studio 2 looks exactly like me but doesn’t share my name?” His question bounced around in Nova’s mind, causing a small stab of pain to shoot through her head before her eyes widened.

“You…You have told me all this before.” She whispered. Her shock squeezing her throat until she swallowed it down and looked back up at Wilford. “Why don’t I remember?”

“Because of me. I told you that sometimes I forget what I’ve changed. And a lot of times, the people around me also forget. But you’ve been working with me for years, Nova. You remember bits and pieces because you’ve has gone through it a lot. Time to you has been altered so many times that you think you’ve worked at my Studio for only a little time. But its only until your reminded, or you come across the same space again, do you actually remember what happened. That’s why you accept a name like Darkiplier so easily. Or don’t question how I keep getting back my gun. I didn’t remember until now.” He smiled to himself. “I changed Dark’s plans today, so he was out of town; and a light-bulb went off in my brain that reminded me of something very important.”

He placed his hands back on the table, palms up. Waiting for Nova to place her hands in his and then very gently, Wilford brought the back of her fingers to his lips. He locked her in placed with his gaze, the chocolate brown shimmering and transforming into a glistening pink. Nova watched him, his moustache twinkling, and she was suddenly filled with warmth. A hum of butterflies fluttered in her stomach and her chest tightened. Not from nervousness, but from a sense of comfort and a glowing sweetness that spread throughout her body. She gasped softly. Her entire body alight with this familiar weightlessness.

“What do you remember?” Wilford asked against her skin. The brush of his lips tickling her hand as she swam through the sensations.

Her mind brought visions of flowers lining her desk. Playful winks cast across the room and gentle hands running along her side. The scent of sugar and cinnamon filling her nose as she felt soft lips flutter over her cheek. Wilford’s eyes filled her vision, and she came back to the present with a soft, flustered gasp.

“I..I remember a little.” Nova replied. “You and I… at a Christmas party..?”

Wilford chuckled, his lips now leaving a more prominent kiss against her skin. “I was rough that night. I think I apologized” There was a new twinkle in his eyes. It sent hot shivers through Nova’s body.

“You were jealous.” Nova reminded him. And Wilford laughed again, playfully squeezing her hands as she smiled at him. “And there was no need to apologize…I really, really enjoyed it.” Wilford smiled broadly and lowered their hands to rest on the table. His thumb grazed over her skin in smooth, stroking patterns. The sensation reminded Nova of another memory. And it flourished under his smouldering gaze.

“I’m not going to lie, Wilford. This does confuse me a little.” Nova said. “What about… what happened this morning?” Wilford’s shimmering eyes dulled a little. He looked away. Staring over the café to the window and onto the street full of passing people.

“I don’t think I can ever forget her. But…I don’t want to forget you…again.” His fingers tightened around her hands as he spoke. “We’ll figure something out. But until then, lets finish our little date. I need to make up for lost time.” Nova chuckled, and this time brought his hands towards her to place a kiss on his fingers. And as she lowered them back down to the table; the waiter returned with their drinks. Settling them beside their intertwined fingers and smiling broadly.

“You two are just adorable. Please enjoy your date.” The waiter cooed, before wandering away. Nova couldn’t hold her smile. She removed one hand from Wilford’s and slid the drink closer to her.

“Are we going to become those obnoxiously cute couples? I’m very new to PDA, Wilford.” Nova said. A flush of memories of embarrassed cheek kisses and flustered sighs crossed her mind as Wilford winked at her.

“You’re already so sweet you make people’s teeth ache.” Wilford replied. Laughing when Nova whispered “oh no, don’t. That’s horrible” under her breath.

#Wilford Warfstache #Wilford x OC #Wilford x Nova #Original Character #not my oc #commission #commissioners character #Nova #Iplier Ego #Iplier ego commission #darkiplier #dark #dark ego #markiplier ego #markiplier character

25 notes · View notes

somegirlsnerdywords2 · 4 years

Text

Anime i’ve Watched

That begin with a S (Part 3)!

Yep this is how i’m going to bring over all the anime and manga i’ve watched and posted about on the old blog. It’s not so detailed but it will have to do. Anything new I watch or read from this point on will have their own posts.

Shinsekai yori (From the New World):

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Psychological, Sci-fi, SUpernatural

Synopsis: In the town of Kamisu 66, 12-year-old Saki Watanabe has just awakened to her psychic powers and is relieved to rejoin her friends—the mischievous Satoru Asahina, the shy Mamoru Itou, the cheerful Maria Akizuki, and Shun Aonuma, a mysterious boy whom Saki admires—at Sage Academy, a special school for psychics. However, unease looms as Saki begins to question the fate of those unable to awaken to their powers, and the children begin to get involved with secretive matters such as the rumored Tainted Cats said to abduct children. Shinsekai yori tells the unique coming-of-age story of Saki and her friends as they journey to grow into their roles in the supposed utopia. Accepting these roles, however, might not come easy when faced with the dark and shocking truths of society, and the impending havoc born from the new world. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 8/10

Finished airing in 2013 with a total of 25 episodes.

MY Thoughts: What a wild concept and execution. I feel like some bits were executed a bit poor but overall it’s an interesting anime worth at least a single watch in my opinion.

Shisha no Teikoku (The Empire of Corpses):

Genres: Film, Sci-fi, Historical, Psychological

Synopsis: By the 19th century, humanity has cultivated technology enabling the reanimation of corpses. Unable to experience individual thoughts or emotions, the corpses are programmed by humans to act as laborers in various occupations. This newfound technology, however, comes with a catch. Science may be able to restore the corpses' ability to move, yet it cannot return what every corpse loses at death: the soul. But Doctor Victor Frankenstein, who vanished shortly after his revolutionary work on corpse reanimation, is said to have revived the only corpse in possession of a soul. In pursuit of this scientific knowledge, London medical student John Watson hopes to fulfill his promise to his late partner, Friday. After being scouted by a government agency, Watson is on a hunt to obtain Frankenstein's notes, which he believes hold the key to the secrets of the soul. During his search, Watson uncovers the harsh realities of the developing corpse technology and the price he must pay to advance his research. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 5/10

A film released in 2015.

My Thoughts: Very clear Frankenstein influence. Pretty bleh. Nothing great. Not worth a watch.

Shouwa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu:

Genres: Drama, Historical, Josei

Synopsis: Yotarou is a former yakuza member fresh out of prison and fixated on just one thing: rather than return to a life of crime, the young man aspires to take to the stage of Rakugo, a traditional Japanese form of comedic storytelling. Inspired during his incarceration by the performance of distinguished practitioner Yakumo Yuurakutei, he sets his mind on meeting the man who changed his life. After hearing Yotarou's desperate appeal for his mentorship, Yakumo is left with no choice but to accept his very first apprentice. As he eagerly begins his training, Yotarou meets Konatsu, an abrasive young woman who has been under Yakumo's care ever since her beloved father Sukeroku Yuurakutei, another prolific Rakugo performer, passed away. Through her hidden passion, Yotarou is drawn to Sukeroku's unique style of Rakugo despite learning under contrasting techniques. Upon seeing this, old memories and feelings return to Yakumo who reminisces about a much earlier time when he made a promise with his greatest rival. Shouwa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu is a story set in both the past and present, depicting the art of Rakugo, the relationships it creates, and the lives and hearts of those dedicated to keeping the unique form of storytelling alive. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 10/10

Finished airing in 2016 with a total of 13 episodes.

My Thoughts: A masterpiece, one of my favourite animes to date and it even has a sequel! Great artwork, music, story and characters. A very interesting experience. That being said... it may not be an anime for everyone but if it interests you I highly recommend this particular title!

Shouwa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu: Sukeroku Futatabi-hen:

Genres: Drama, Historical, Josei

Synopsis: Even after having risen to the utmost rank of shun'ichi, Yotaro struggles to find his own identity in the world of rakugo. Caught between his master's teachings and the late Sukeroku's unique style, his performance lacks an important ingredient—ego. And while his popularity packs the theaters, he is but one of the few; rakugo is under threat of being eclipsed. Meanwhile Yakumo, regarded by many as the last bastion of preserving the popularity of rakugo, struggles to cope with his elderly state. Even though his performances are still stellar, he fears that he is nearing his limits. His doubts grow stronger as an old friend creeps ever closer. Konatsu, for her part, attempts to raise her son as a single mother, which Yotaro is heavily opposed to. Instead, he seeks to persuade her to marry him and in turn raise her son as his own. In Shouwa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu: Sukeroku Futatabi-hen, the curtains fall on Yotaro and Yakumo's story, tasked with restoring the near-obsolete art form as well as overcoming their internal conflicts. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 10/10

Finished airing in 2017 with a total of 12 episodes.

My Thoughts: Just as good, if not better than the first season. A perfect ending to a perfect story.

Skip Beat!:

Genres: Comedy. Romance, Drama, Shoujo

Synopsis: Bright, diligent, and yet naïve 16-year-old Kyouko Mogami works hard to support the career and dreams of her childhood friend, crush, and rising pop icon, Shoutarou Fuwa. Toiling endlessly at burger joints and tea ceremonies, the innocent Kyouko remains unaware that day in day out, all her tireless efforts have been taken for granted, until, one day, she finds out that her beloved Shou sees her as nothing but a free servant. Shocked, heartbroken and enraged, she vows to take revenge on the rookie star by entering the ruthless world of entertainment herself. As she steps into this new life, Kyouko will face new challenges as well as people who will push her out of her comfort zone. Based on the best-selling shoujo manga by Yoshiki Nakamura, Skip Beat showcases the growth of a young woman who slowly unlearns how to work herself to the bone for the satisfaction of others and takes her future into her own hands instead. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 7/10

Finished airing in 2009 with a total of 25 episodes.

My Thoughts: I do not love the artwork... but that can be easily overlooked. Honestly I can’t remember all that much about this particular anime. I do know that it has a manga which is much further along than the anime.... so maybe you should check that out first if you’re interested and watch the anime as extra after?

#shinsekai yori #from the new world #anime #past anime #the empire of corpses #shisha no teikoku #films #shouwa genroku rakugo shinjuu

23 notes · View notes

jungxk · 5 years

Text

just one (vi)

notes: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem…until he set his sights on you.

warnings: smut (f recieving), protected sex

genre: drama, romance, humour, college!au

wordcount: 5.3k

part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x

you watch sadly as you tip your case of empty paint tubes into the bin. they were your absolute favourite, a birthday gift from jimin almost two years ago. you had been so careful and stingy with them all this time to preserve as much as possible - at least to get you to the end of the semester - so it was disheartening to have to finally throw them out. oils were always your favourite. still, there wasn't much time for moping; if you were to get your next piece finished by the deadline you better start now because of the drying period between layers of watercolour.

"maybe jungkook has a hairdryer..." you mumble to yourself before padding over to his room. he's sitting at his tiny little work desk with his back to you when you peek over his shoulder. "kook, do you have a hairdryer?"

he points without removing his eyes from the screen. "the bottom drawer over there."

"thanks," you do a double take as you pass him with the appliance in tow, his eyes a little bloodshot and face twisted into what looks like terror. usually you couldn't so much as clean a paintbrush without jungkook all over you while you were at his place, but he barely spoke the whole afternoon. you take a tentative step towards him, because if he was anything like jimin when he's stressed he might get rabid. "you alright?"

"i dunno, am i?" he collapses back into the chair, threading his fingers through his hair which was getting wonderfully long. but the only thing you can pay attention to now are his panicked eyes and jittery knees. "i don't know what the fuck any of these numbers mean! why do i even need this for photography-"

"what is it?" you smooth your hand over his back, muscles stiff.

he deflates under your touch. "i agreed to peers taking questionnaires about my portfolio so far and i fucking regret it, noona. this stats software looks nothing like minecraft. i dont know what this all means. my prof said it'd help with cohesiveness - whatever that means - but he's off on one if he thinks this has done anything other than confuse me and ruin my life."

you try your best to hold back a smile, but jungkook is so cute when he's pouty and frustrated. "okay, well what are your variables?"

"my what? baby, i'm not in the mood right now-"

"no you dipshit, like," you gesture with your hands. "what are the things you're measuring? in the questionnaire?"

jungkook stares at you blankly. "i'm...what?"

you roll your eyes, grabbing the back of his chair to swivel him and plop onto his lap. "let me see."

jungkook has no idea what's going on, both because he doesn't know what you're talking about and also because you're covering the screen so he's spared of having to follow your clicking and tinkering. all he knows is that you fit nicely on his lap and that your bare thighs are warm on his, and it's much easier to focus on that anyway. especially since you aren't wearing underwear. after a few minutes he hooks his chin over your shoulder to at least try to keep up. "what are you doing, noona?"

"just cleaning up your dataset," you mumble. you finally perk up after a few more minutes. "oh, okay! so all you want to know is if the people who like the first half of your portfolio like the second half just as much, and whether that opinion affects the other? like a correlation, right?"

he sits up excitedly. "yeah! yeah, that's it," he stares at your profile in disbelief while you waste no time in running the analyses. "how do you know about this stuff, noona?"

"i did stats in my science major. the software i had back then, now that was a real pain in the ass. but this one isn't so bad," you reply absently while jungkook keeps staring at you like you're an angel that descended from the heavens especially for him. he has yet to believe otherwise. "hmm, you know i think you can skip all the sample level descriptives and cronbach's alpha scores and go straight to pearson's r if all you're looking for is a correlation. what would you prefer?"

he breathes in your hair; coconut, jasmine. his cologne. "you’re so sexy when i don’t understand what you’re saying."

jimin's face twists when he tests the contents of the pan. "can you tell me why this tastes like tae's dirty socks?"

“can you tell me why you know what tae’s dirty socks taste like?” you lean over the counter, swiping a finger over the ladle before bringing it to your mouth. you always used to cook for your family when you were younger, and although you had gone off it after what happened, you didn't mind when it was with jimin. with him, you didn't think about the memories of cutting onions with your father or grinding chillies with your mother and sister. it all felt new again, something that was never tarnished. which is why jimin is the only one you can stand to cook with even if he's unable to make anything but mojitos and a single pasta dish. "not enough garlic."

he squints at his phone while you manoeuvre him out of your way. "but it says two cloves in the recipe?"

"it's never two cloves," you take the knife and start to crush and peel more. "always start with four, maybe five."

"can't we just order takeout?" jimin pouts pathetically. he just washed his hair so its still damp, cheeks a rosy from the bathroom steam. you only wish his long line of hookups could see their ladies man now, bundled up in a powerpuff girls sweater that he stole from you months ago.

"no," you pluck his phone from his hand before he can dial, replacing it with more cloves for him to peel. "you've been having takeout all week! all that oil can't be good for you, what's the point of sweating your tits off in that gym if you're just gonna eat shit?"

"i don't always eat shit!"

"jimin. we share a just eat email account. i know the chinese place isn't sending me customer loyalty codes," he rounds the stool where you're sat in the small place between your back and the wall, his palm skirting behind your waist to move you gently aside. "just let me see you eat a vegetable today, i'm begging. so if you keel over tomorrow from IBS i'll feel less guilty."

"alright alright," he huffs, rubbing at his puffy eyes with his sleeve before picking up the knife again. "i don't see what the big deal is, if i was breaking out then that'd be another issue but my body can clearly handle it. maybe it's like that episode of drake and josh where his body becomes accustomed to all the junk food he eats and-"

"please don't use drake and josh as a marker for your health."

"fine," and then without missing a beat, "but what about kenan and kel? all that orange soda and kel was totally fine. healthy even."

"physically, maybe. but did you see the screw in the tuna episode? don't tell me he didn't have inner demons that may or may not have been increased by an overly processed diet," you pause. "wait, am i the kenan in this friendship?"

"depends. i want to say you're the brains but i've also seen you try to open a can with a fork, so."

"hey! that wasn't my fault!" you exclaim, but jimin ignores you purposely. "taehyung told me you fucked yeri in the kitchen, how was i supposed to know what was and wasn't contaminated?"

"___, the fork was plastic."

"well what else would you have me do, starve?"

"what is this, the fucking famine? you said it yourself, we share a just eat email so the smart thing to do would be order. besides i dunno what makes you think i'd fuck a girl with a can opener in my vicinity anyway-"

"um, you're you," you chastise. "so i rest my case."

"then i'm definitely kenan," jimin laughs when you swat at him before your phone vibrates, one after another until it almost falls off the kitchen counter if you didn't grab it in time. you don't dare to unlock your phone when you see the contact name on the screen, too hyper-aware of jimin eyeing you over the chopping board. even he sees the gist of the messages jungkook sent you.

[jungkook 7:13pm] u left ur shirt here again noona

[jungkook 7:13pm] at this rate ur never gonna get it back are u :)

[jungkook 7:14pm] i'm free all day tomorrow

[jungkook 7:16pm] wanna come over?

[jungkook 7:16pm] i still haven't washed it btw so

[jungkook 7:17pm] we can do laundry together :))

[jungkook 7:18pm] or maybe later tonight ? i can pick u up ?

you don't even get a good read of the messages - all those smiley faces gave you enough of an idea. it wasn't a surprise or anything, but you still switch your phone to do not disturb and leave it face down on the counter like you have something to hide. which you don't. so why did it feel so wrong? so disrespectful, here in jimin's kitchen? you gnaw at your cheek.

jimin has his back to you so thankfully you're spared of having to gage his expression. he's probably sent a million thirsty texts so he knows what they look like, knows that he shouldn't be surprised. still, he shifts from foot to foot uneasily. the only thing that makes him stop is you leaning wordlessly over him to lower the stove to a simmer, turning the tap on to wash some rice and hum quietly. here was jeon jungkook, arguably the biggest stud on campus blowing up your phone on a friday night but nothing felt different. you'd always choose him and jimin knew that.

"what do you think of egg fried rice?" you ask over your shoulder. "i haven't made it in ages. the one with the veggies?"

jimin smiles. "i love that one,"

"he's not back yet?" you ask when yoongi lets you into the flat, shoulders deflating childishly. he gives you a lazy shake of his head before nudging you to the sofa to take up your usual spot on the matted cushion in the corner, kicking your shoes away and sitting cross legged. yoongi and namjoon's flat was only round the corner from jungkook's, a worn down little two-bed that smelled rather questionable at times, but it quickly became a familiar place. a safe place. especially because of how often you'd come over while jungkook was running late at class or the gym or photo-hunting. coming to terms with the fact that you were sleeping with jungkook wasn't that hard, but being friends with his friends was.

"it's leg day. you know how jungkookie feels about his chicken calves," yoongi says before flopping down next to you. namjoon was tucked into the other side with a book, effectively squishing you into yoongi with his big shoulders. if jungkook was here he'd pout about having nowhere to sit and the thought only makes you more pleased. "he'd be there until sundown if you weren't waiting for him."

"are you sure you're one to talk about chicken legs?" you reach to tickle yoongi's knees and he barely manages to flinch away in time.

"i love my chicken legs the way they are, thanks. can't say the same for your boyfriend though."

you freeze. "i told you to stop saying that, yoongi. you know he hates the b word. one more slip up and you won't ever see me here again. last time he avoided me for two weeks!"

"never see you again? doubt it. your hair clogged the shower drain yesterday so you pretty much owe rent at this point," yoongi keeps flicking through the channels on the television. "besides, i know what a man with a monkey on his back looks like. kookie just doesn't like being reminded of it because unfortunately for him there's no rehab to quit you."

a rush of blood goes straight to your cheeks. yoongi loves to tease you and you know that, second only to jungkook who actually does get off to it, but you still tap nervously on the carpet with your toes while desperately hoping for namjoon to step into the conversation with a weird conspiracy theory or black hole fact he read on an astronomy blog. anything to dig you out of this metaphorical hole you and jungkook are hellbent on ignoring. yoongi sees the way you curl in on yourself slightly, a sensible and collected flower like you reduced to a fidgety school girl. it's cute.

"hyung," namjoon says with his eyes still glued to his book. "stop winding her up or her face'll explode and then jiminie will come for your throat."

yoongi scoffs. "and? what's that short-ass gonna do, cry on me to death?"

"you're like two inches taller than him."

"two and a half, actually."

"so he really was a crybaby?" you scoot to fold your legs under you. "jungkook told me before but i didn't believe him! i've tried everything but i can never get a reaction out of jimin...i mean, if horny isn't an emotion."

"oh yeah, totally," namjoon puts an arm on the back on the back of the sofa behind you when he looks up. his silver hair brings out the beautifully rich undertone of his skin and it's difficult not to stare, being so close. "if the patriarchy hadn't fucked him up he'd be a real tree hugger, i'm sure of it. but the last time i saw him cry was...hmm..."

"five years ago," yoongi chimes. "when jungkookie got caught."

"ooooh yeah," namjoon nods. "but jimin and jungkook were super close back then. he was so protective of him, waited in the custody office for hours until they finally-"

"wait," you look between them. "caught? what do you mean?"

the boys exchange a glance between them. it's not like you didn't know that yoongi sells weed and often with namjoon's help. in fact, they often told you about their wild stories and close calls. but they had never mentioned jungkook being involved with any of that stuff, and neither had he. you always just assumed that he'd kept his head out of it, being a college student and all but yoongi's shrugging and namjoon's pursed lips tell you otherwise.

"jungkook got charged with possession as a minor," yoongi says. "i mean, seventeen but still. too baby-faced."

"jungkook sold for you?" you repeat, not quite believing your ears. he had always been the better off out of his friends that often did shadier things, but the more you got to know him the more you felt like the jungkook you heard about and the jungkook you knew were two different boys. it really shouldn't have come as a surprise, since he had practically grown up with yoongi, namjoon and jimin. his hyungs were his family and he'd do anything for them, there was really no reason he wouldn't take up their trade.

"oh yeah, almost a year. he was good at it too," namjoon laughs. "our kookie's good at everything if you give him enough chances."

"so what happened?" you press. "does he...does he still sell?"

"are you kidding? we got him out of all that shit the second he stepped out the office," yoongi rubs the back of his neck. "jungkook isn't like us. he's a good kid with a lot of talent and he didn't need to be doing all that you know? we convinced him to go to school instead but even then, jimin made us swear to look out for him because he left earlier than kookie."

"wow, jimin really hasn't changed," you lean back. "in like, taking care of people i mean. so is that when jungkook got into photography? he did talk about getting his first camera when he was like eighteen or something..."

namjoon nods happily in recollection. "yup! we were so proud when jungkook got accepted into university, especially after jimin and hobi. people from our town don't usually pursue higher education-"

"especially with kookie's record," yoongi laughs.

"why?" you blink at him.

"the weed was one thing, but jungkook also got a strike for violence."

namjoon winces. "hyung, he's gonna throw a tantrum if you tell her..."

"i don't care. she's fucking him, she has a right to know," yoongi retorts evenly, dark eyes swivelling to meet yours. his light hair is matted from under his beanie, barely missing his lashes. "a few years ago jungkook beat a guy so bad he had to go into emergency. it was pretty gross. broken nose, missing teeth, you name it. he's been on thin ice since but he doesn't act like it."

you take a second to digest the information. "do you...do you know why?" you waver, unable to keep the horror from your voice. "knocking a guy's teeth out? people don't just do that!"

"kookie did," namjoon sighs.

"but why? it's so...i just can't imagine jungkook doing something like that..."

"something like what?"

your head snaps to the doorway where jungkook can be seen only partially when he bends over to unlace his shoes, namjoon and yoongi simultaneously pinching your legs to wipe the wide-eyed look off your face. it was one of the many times when wearing your heart on your sleeve did not do you any favours. you just about manage to look normal enough within the half a second it takes for jungkook to come in, hair mussed from his post-gym shower and tee wrinkled from being stuffed into the bottom of his bag. his eyes look extra big today, nose and knuckles blushed pink from all the lifting. he couldn't look farther from the violent offender yoongi and namjoon described. in fact, the sudden urge to kiss him hello was near suffocating.

"i was telling her about the time you wore hyung's underwear for two weeks," namjoon explains, years of lying paying off with how smoothly he returns to his book.

"what!" yoongi splutters. "are you kidding?! a whole week, jungkook that's disgusting-"

the younger boy winces. "not the same pair!"

"wait. you took more than one?!"

"um..."

"how many. tell me right now you little shit."

"i promise they were clean!" jungkook says defensively, but his buck teeth show in a defensive little grin. it's impossible to be mad at him. "my washing machine broke, remember? and i never have change so i didn't go to the laundrette's and-"

"which ones?" yoongi's voice becomes obnoxiously loud with dismay. "tell me right now so can go upstairs and burn them. jesus jungkook you could have at least asked me, now i have to live with the knowledge that your bollocks is acquainted with mine until i die-"

"hyung they were clean," jungkook insists. "and if i asked i knew you wouldn't have let me borrow them!"

"yeah because it's gross! why didn't you just take joonie's?"

"i did. but he caught me and told me to take yours instead."

you just about manage to insert yourself between yoongi before he can grab a fistful of namjoon's hair while jungkook throws back his head in a loud cackle.

[jimin 7:58pm] you dont mind do u?

it's hard not to roll your eyes at his message, momentarily leaving your phone on the bed while you unclasp your bra. it wasn't the first time jimin had bailed on you last minute because of some girl he'd picked up for longer than expected. you're just thankful that this time he had the courtesy to tell you before you got to his house and burst into his bedroom without knocking only to see areas of your best friend you really did not need to see. even though you shudder at the memories - yes, plural - the sinking feeling of disappointment can't be masked. it's movie night.

[you 8:01pm] yh its fine

[you 8:02pm] but u owe me one i put on a bra for you asshole

[jimin 8:04pm] ofc babe

[jimin 8:04] just skip it next time :)

you snort before locking your phone and throwing it on the bed, padding over the room in your knickers to select some sleeping shorts off the floor. jisoo went home for a family birthday and seulgi had a deadline for monday, so it was safe to say you were alone for the weekend. you were used to being alone but you didn't like it; it was the reason why you'd always trudge to jimin's if the girls weren't home or even yoongi and namjoon's, even if it was just to take a nap on their sofa. you needed the noise, the background bickering. that's why there's only so much paint brush washing and kitchen cleaning you can do before reaching for your phone and messaging jungkook.

or at least that's what you tell yourself when he's in your bed within the hour, head resting on your stomach and his leg thrown over your ankles. you trace along the tattoo on his bicep closest to you, admiring the cohesiveness and line placement while jungkook dozes off, like he often does after sex. he's had a long week so you let him sleep, hair sticking up and mouth open like a toddler, so impossibly cute you can't help combing through his nape. jungkook doesn't often spend the night at yours so this was a rarity, and you had to admit he did look a little out of place in your tiny little room. he was far too big for your bed, one foot already hanging off, clothes and jacket hurled into the corner with only cheap fairy lights to rely on so you don't go tripping over his shoes at the door.

you could draw him like this. jungkook's eyelashes are short and pin-straight, eyebrows angled and distinctive. quick, sharp pencil strokes. he's got the faintest shadow above his top lip from where didn't have time to shave today. you'd use charcoal for his hair, black with a slight wave. a swooping curve for his nose, a more gentle line for his jaw. he looks harmless like this: not at all resembling the boy yoongi described.

"why are you so quiet, noona?" he grumbles into the duvet, eyes still closed. "you should be snoring my ears off by now."

you pout. "i'm too busy wondering how i'm gonna get your river of drool out of my pillow."

he snorts. "throw your sheets in on a fast cycle and voila."

"what fast cycle? i just press every button on the machine until it starts."

he opens his eyes. "you're an animal."

you laugh, tugging on the roots of his hair where your hand is still nestled inside. "how do you know so much about washing machines anyway?"

"my mum worked a lot growing up," jungkook yawns. "hyung did the cooking and i did the laundry."

you freeze. "you have a brother?"

"i swear i told you that," he scoots across your stomach, taking the pillow with him to position it over your hip so he can look at you properly. his eyes look glassy in the lights, lids hooded and hair pushed back. a real dreamboat wrapped in a hello kitty duvet. "two years older, same as jimin."

"no wonder jimin cares about you so much," you keep playing with his hair, watching his eyes droop closed. "he may as well be your brother." jungkook hums in reply, growing more and more drowsy from all the petting. "so...how come your mum worked so much?"

his eyes open to look at you, hesitating. "dad left when we were young. she didn't really have a choice."

"i didn't know that jungkook..." you pause. "that must have been hard."

he rolls to face the ceiling, like he's thinking twice before he answers. "not really. eomma's a badass, there's nothing she can't handle. yeah money and stuff wasn't easy, and it sucked when i was younger and didn't understand why hyung and eomma were so upset after what happened, but it's whatever. the three of us are so good together, you know? i like it like this."

you nod. because you do know. or, did. you wonder now if that's the reason jungkook got involved with yoongi and namjoon in the first place, to help out his family, but even you know some questions are better left unasked. instead, you chip away at jungkook while you can, since you know barely anything about him beyond student life and his friends. who knows when he would be in the mood to open up again. "so what does your brother do?"

"an accountant. for some fancy law firm in the city," he smiles. "hyung is super smart. like you."

you laugh. "you know i didn't finish my first major, right?"

"by choice. not because you weren't capable," he finishes, and to that you have no choice but to shut up. no one had ever put it that way before. "he's super quiet like you too, keeps to himself. gives really good advice. oh my god, and his kimchi pork stew - amazing!" his teeth gleam take up his whole mouth when he smiles, lines creasing around his eyes. "so many times when me and mum would argue, hyung was the reason why we'd stop. guess i got her temper."

you watch him closely. "you argued often?"

"at one point, yeah. not because we didn't like each other or anything, just..." you can see him hesitating again, cheek sucked in from where he chews it while staring up at the ceiling as if the memories are playing back at him on a projector. you keep quiet, let him get there on his own. "mum went through a phase where she dated a lot. felt bad that neither of us had a father figure and all that bullshit. she brought home some real dickheads, some top tier cunts i'm telling you. and i...wasn't exactly nice to them. ever since then i just hate seeing girls be pushed around by assholes, you know? it does something to me, i dunno. here," he lays a hand over his stomach. "i can't just watch. i can't. it's like i'm gonna be sick."

it's hard not to cry listening to him, seeing the lines in his forehead appear along with the crinkle above his nose. it made sense now, what yoongi told you about before. thinking back to the whole escapade with jinyoung in your kitchen, the whole thing hit you differently.

jungkook was exactly the kind of boy your old family would have frowned upon, reckless and thoughtless and emotionally-driven in the face of adversity. absolutely everything you were taught not to be. but you admired him for those very reasons. before you can start crying you sit up, silencing jungkook with a kiss before he can ask you what's wrong. it's firm and deliberate, your hands holding both his cheeks. he's breathless. "you seriously fucking worry me, slick."

"oh?" his eyes stay focused on your lips while he moves to you, positions you underneath him on the foot of the bed, pulling your thighs around his hips so you gasp at the feel of his semi on your soft inner thigh. he dips his head to kiss along your sternum, hand ghosting over your breasts before closing his mouth around your nipple.

"i nev-never know what you're gonna do next," you exhale shakily, arching into him involuntarily at the sensation. jungkook takes the opportunity to rub the pads of his fingers against your cunt, using the remnants of your arousal to help you along. sure enough you accept his fingers greedily, but he takes his time in stretching you out and easing in further, further.

his thumb gently passes over your clit and you shake. "never? not even now?"

you have to forcibly yank his face away from your tits to kiss him, slowly and with passion. his skin grows damp under your hands, muscles rippling under your touch from where he holds himself up on his forearms. he likes feeling the softness of your tummy against his, your thick thighs cushioning him snugly against you. just like always, it's torture having to pull away from you for a brief second to grab a condom, but the familiar chuckle you breathe out to see him speed back into your arms almost makes it worth it. you take the packet from him, about to tear it open before he grabs your hand with a cheeky smile. "in a minute."

before you can question him about it you yelp he tugs you by the hips, sliding up to angle your ass so your knees have no choice but to hook over his shoulders. jungkook's arms wind around the top of your thighs, thick and secure, nails scraping gently through your coarse curls before he pulls your legs apart as wide as they'll go and lowers his mouth onto you. the noise you make is just as embarrassing as always, so loud and uncontrollable, hysterical even. you've gotten used to being jungkook's fourth, fifth and sixth meal of the day but he steals your breath away every time, leaves you squirming and trembling and this instance was no exception. today he was feeling indulgent so he eats you out messily, makes sure he's loud enough for you hear every squelch and slurp. you physically shake when he sucks a gently kiss to your clit, proud of yourself for not screaming. jungkook, however, isn't happy about that and keeps sucking until you do. harder, harder, and then filling you up with his fingers so you have something to clench around when you cum all over him in a rush.

your back is still off the bed when he reaches your eye level again, the family sound of the foil wrapper ripping from the condom packet making you lift your head up to look at him. he's already rolling it down his length when he peer downwards, and even though you only get a glimpse of his blushing head he's sticky and hot with pre-cum. you wiggle in anticipation and jungkook laughs at your cuteness before leaning back down, taking your hands in his for a change. he can see the appeal, interlocking your fingers with his palms against yours and using only his hips as leverage to push into your sopping center, letting you move against him so he's lodged in as deep as he can fit before he starts rocking into you.

your moans are his favourite song, maybe that's why he wants to listen to them all day. he'd like to make you cum again but it's difficult for him once his hips start stuttering uncontrollably, no matter how much he tries to slow his pace. you let go of his hands then to take his face, his eyes closed when he feels you press your smooth lips to his cheekbone; an encouraging kiss. a go on, i want you to kiss. the moan he let's out before giving in is fragile and wispy, nose digging into your neck while he ruts against you to his end. you clench around him harder just to hear jungkook whimper again, pliant and weak in your arms. all of a sudden, out of nowhere you wish you could feel the rush of his cream spilling from you when he pulls out to discard the condom. he nestles back into your breasts afterwards, smelling himself on your skin.

jungkook falls asleep smiling.

851 notes · View notes

maluminspace · 4 years

Text

Genre: Smut

Pairings: Michael Clifford/Male Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Trigger warnings: Strong language, explicit sexual content, public sex

A/N: I thought it was about time I did something else for the guys of the fandom again. I hope you enjoy this! Title taken from ‘take me home’ by Cher

Kofi

Queer!sos Masterlist // Michael Masterlist // Main Masterlist

***

You’d been in two minds whether to even come out tonight.

Your mood had been getting progressively darker over the last few days and the last thing you wanted was to make small talk with your friends and some strangers you couldn’t care less about.

It was Ashton’s birthday, though and all he wanted was a few drinks with his buddies and he counted you amongst that select few. Considering everything he’s done for you over the years, the least you could do was spare him a couple of hours of your Friday night.

The evening had started about an hour ago and so far it’s gone exactly as you’d imagined. Ashton’s chosen bar is fairly typical of his taste. The large room is dimly lit, minimalist in it’s décor and the music playing over the speakers is a mixture of modern alternative pop and more classic soft rock tunes. The birthday boy had reserved a large booth in the back of the bar, he’d already been seated in it with a few of his work buddies and Luke, one of his oldest friends.

There’d already been an open bottle of vodka and Jack Daniels on the table along with a few jugs of mixers and pitchers of beer, which Ashton had insisted you help yourself to, while gesturing to a stack of clean glasses next to the alcohol. A couple of the girls sitting next to Ashton smiled at you, offering flirtatious greetings as you slid into the booth next to Luke. Before you even had a chance to respond, A tipsy Ashton had informed them that their attempts to woo you would be wasted as your interests lie purely in men.

The girls looked mildly disappointed for a split second but Luke had been quick to swoop in and distract them with some clumsy flirting of his own.

After a couple of drinks, you’d started to relax a bit, although your anxiety began to rear its ugly head a little each time a new person joined your little group. You didn’t know most of them and they all seemed too interested in Ashton or other people that they were already acquainted with, to bother to get to know you. Part of you was glad of the lack of attention, however as the minutes had stretched by without anyone offering you so much as a sliver of small talk, a hint of loneliness had begun to set in.

You’re just trying to decide how much longer you have to stay until it’s acceptable for you to leave when a familiar face emerges from the growing crowd in the bar. You’ve met Calum a few times at various gatherings and he’s always been fun to chat to. You were just about to offer him the seat next to you, when you notice that he isn’t alone. He’s accompanied by, quite possibly, the cutest man you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Cal! Michael!” Ashton grinned tipsily as he greeted the newcomers enthusiastically. “Grab a drink…”

You’re vaguely aware of Calum greeting everyone but your focus is mainly on the pretty blonde man hovering nervously beside him. You’ve never seen him before, you’d definitely remember if you had. When he locks eyes with you, your heart immediately starts to pound faster and a dopey smile finds itself spreading across your face.

“You take that seat, Mike.” Calum offers casually as he glances around the nearby tables. “I’ll grab a spare chair from somewhere…”

Michael offers you a shy smile as he slips into the booth beside you. He looks even prettier close up. He has the most beautiful green eyes that you could happily get lost in and his pink lips are so kissable that you immediately start imagining how soft they’d feel against yours. His clothes are fairly casual, black skinny jeans, a loose flannel shirt, buttoned all the way up to his neck, he’s the only man at the table not to have most of his chest out. Luke, Ashton and Calum are well known for using less than half of the buttons on their shirts. You can’t be too mad about it though, you tend to like to show off a little of your own chest, too.

Resuming your initial observation of the newcomer, you notice that Michael’s bleached blonde hair is sort of dishevelled, like he can’t quite tame it but you like that, you’ve always had a soft spot for the ones that are a little rough around the edges. Michael definitely ticks that box. In fact, he ticks all of your boxes. He’s cute, bashful, doesn’t seem to take himself too seriously and he smells pretty good; like coconut shower gel and some mid-range cologne that you faintly recognise.

Michael introduces himself to you first, offering his hand for you to shake. “Hi, I’m Michael…” He informs you. “Most people call me Mike or Mikey, I don’t mind any of those really.”

You shake his hand, trying not to stare at him too intently as you introduce yourself. He repeats your name in a soft tone that almost melts you. Suddenly, you’re pretty pleased that you decided to come out tonight...

***

A couple of hours slip by in a blur of booze, jokes and bar snacks.

As much as you’ve tried to give everyone at the table an equal slice of your attention, you always end up focusing on Michael. He seems to get more perfect with every moment. Every story he tells makes it a little bit clearer that he’s perfect for you. He’s funny, sweet and he looks too adorable when he laughs.

With every sip of Jack Daniels and cola you take, you relax a little more and it’s not long before that liquid courage starts to set in. You gradually stop trying to force an interest in everyone else and give into your need to know more about Michael.

He happily answers your casual questions about what he does for a living and how he knows Calum, Luke and Ashton before encouraging you to answer the same ones. You find yourself trying a little too hard to make him laugh because every time he does, his face lights up beautifully, his emerald eyes sparkling.

As you get lost in pleasant conversation, you find yourself subconsciously moving closer to him, to the point where your thigh ends up pressed against his. Michael doesn’t shuffle away or call you out on it in any way, in fact he seems to lean into the contact, shooting you an almost knowing smile as he reaches for another drink.

“Do you want another JD?” He asks, his voice low but cheerful.

You nod, handing him your glass, ensuring that your fingers brush with his as you do so.

A slight blush rises in Michael’s cheeks and he sort of melts under your gaze. If you were a braver person, you’d have upped the flirting in that moment, made it more obvious that you were into him, but your nerve fails. You simply drop your hand to rest on the table, trying to ignore the tingling of your skin where you’d just made contact with Michael.

Unfortunately, Michael seems to take your moment of self doubt as a sign that you’re not into him. He pours your drink and then promptly excuses himself for a bathroom break.

You don’t have much time to curse yourself before Ashton reaches across the table and nudges your arm playfully. “Are you gonna make a move on him or what?” The birthday boy laughs. “You two couldn’t be more into each other, it’s like torture, watching all of your shy glances and fleeting touches.”

“Yeah, Michael’s a bit shy when it comes to this stuff but I’ve been his friend for long enough to know what he means when he smiles at someone like that.” Calum explains, although there’s a faint note of something like warning in his voice. Even in your slightly tipsy state, you recognise this protective friend tone. You’ve used it on people before too, whenever you’ve suspected someone of having ill intentions with one of your buddies.

You have no reason to feel threatened by Calum. You’d never intentionally hurt his friend, but you feel the need to get him on your side anyway. “You really think he likes me like that?” You ask, knowing that making yourself sound like the lucky one is key here. Not that it’s difficult, of course. You do feel pretty fucking lucky right about now. “He comes across as such a nice guy, I thought he was just being friendly.”

The rest of the table bursts into laughter.

“Yeah but he saves his ‘fuck me’ eyes for people he wants to take to bed.” Ashton chuckles lightly. “Trust me, he’s into you!”

You feel the need for Calum’s blessing, knowing that it’ll be his wrath you face if things don’t go well between you and his best friend. You turn to the dark-haired man as he takes another drink from his beer bottle. “You really think so?” You question, “he seems amazing, I don’t wanna come across as-“

“Ashton’s right.” Calum cuts in. “He’s into you, he’s gonna need to see you reciprocate a little before he lets his guard down anymore, though. You might want to flirt a bit harder.”

Before you can ask for any tips from Michael’s friends, the man in question returns, shooting you a lopsided smile as he slips back into the booths beside you. “Hope you didn’t miss me too much.” He shrugs, his smile turning into a faintly mischievous smirk.

“Most of us didn’t even notice you were gone mate!” Luke laughs.

“But one of us was pining like a dog whose owner just left him tied up outside in the street.” Ashton interjects, quirking his eyebrow suggestively in your direction.

Michael glances at you, his cheeks turning a pretty rosy pink. “Well if anyone was gonna miss me, I’d have hoped it was you, handsome.”

The way Michael held your gaze, albeit a little shyly, gave you more confidence and you gave a small shrug of your shoulders. “How could I not miss that pretty face of yours?”

From that moment the flirting between the two of you became much more brasen. After a few more sips of your JD, you casually flung your arm around Michael’s shoulders as the two of you talked to Calum about the latest episode of a show you all shared an interest in.

Michael immediately leans into your side, presumably to let you know that he liked the gesture.

Calum seemed pleased with the way you were treating his friend and his defenses gradually crumbled, making you less nervous.

When Michael lays his head on your shoulder a little while later, you feel your heart jump in your chest. His pink lips are so close, it’d be so easy for you to kiss them. You don’t want an audience for your first kiss with him, though, so you resist the urge, deciding to stroke his shoulder gently through his shirt instead.

“I think someone’s getting a little sleepy over there.” Luke smirks, nodding at Michael. “Maybe someone should walk him home…” His glazed blue eyes land on you as his smirk grows. “I’m sure you’ll volunteer, right? He doesn’t live far from here y’know.”

Michael shifts his head so that he can meet your gaze, “I’d like that, if you wouldn’t mind.” He whispers, his green eyes sparkling with an unmistakable lust.

“Of course, baby.” You reply, hoping that your tone is as smooth as you intend it to be. “I’d be happy to walk you home. You ready now, or…”

Michael nods, his cheeks reading from the pet name you’d given him. The way he offers you a sideways smile that could almost be a smirk, tells you that he enjoyed it and you make a mental note of it, hoping to be able to put that word to much better use a bit later on. Michael reaches for his jacket before straightening up in his seat to slip it on. You immediately miss his warmth pressing into your side but you’re eager to spend some time with him alone, even if it’s just the short walk to his apartment. You hope that you can at least impress him enough that he’ll give you his number so that you can arrange a date or something.

After hugging everyone goodbye and wishing Ashton Happy Birthday one more time, you lead Michael out of the bar.

Even though you’re full of alcohol, the chilly night air hits the two of you hard and Michael instinctively curls into your side for warmth. You’ve never been so thankful for this changeable climate as you are right now, with the cutest boy you’ve ever met burrowing beneath your arm.

“It shouldn’t be this cold in July, should it?” Michael giggles, glancing at you through his lashes.

“I’m not complaining!” You reply with a tiny smirk, wrapping one arm around Michael’s shoulders to keep him close to you. “So which way is home, baby?”

Once again, Michael melts at the fond nickname and points to the left. “I’m about ten minutes that way.” He answers, but as you take a step in that direction, Michael stops you, shaking his head and pulling you back. “I have a question to ask you first.” He drops his gaze to your lips and wets his own with a flick of his tongue. The simple gesture sends shivers through you but you hold it together just enough to arch your eyebrow questioningly. “Are you ever gonna kiss me, handsome?” Michael asks, shifting his head to that his lips are just about as close as they can be to yours without them touching.

You answer by closing the tiny gap, pressing your lips to his as softly as your lust-filled brain will allow.

Michael wraps both arms around your waist, gripping the back of your jacket as his lips part in a tiny moan, allowing you to slip your tongue past them and work it against his.

You’ve never had someone respond to one of your kisses so hungrily, it takes you a bit by surprise but you grasp Michael’s upper arms firmly as you draw out the kiss as long as you can before needing to take a breath.

“That was worth the wait.” Michael grins dopily as he rests his forehead against yours. “You still wanna take me home?”

You nod eagerly, all pretence of being cool, calm and collected abandoned along with the misplaced shame that you’d been taught to feel about falling for people so easily. Michael obviously wants you as much as you want him and if that level of longing is acceptable enough for someone as amazing as him, you could hardly argue with it.

Michael nestles back under your arm, wrapping his own around your waist to keep him in place.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all night, y’know.” You offer, wanting to ensure that Michael knows he’s not been pining alone. “I just… well I wanted to make sure you liked me as much as the others said you did and-”

“Oh so you boys were all talking about me when I left the table, were you?” Michael interrupts with a tiny chuckle. “I should have known they’d be trying to talk you into making a move. They all like to think of themselves as matchmakers.”

You shake your head. “They didn’t have to convince me to make a move at all. Kissing you was already all I was thinking about, I just… well I was scared you didn’t want me to.”

Michael laughed, resting his head on your shoulder. “I didn’t want to come across as too easy, but I guess the fact that you’re taking me home now has given me away.”

“And here I was thinking that you just wanted some company on your walk home.” You gasp in faux horror. “Now I wish I’d put on my best underwear.” You try to keep your tone light and joking but you’re a bit concerned that a) The Deadpool underwear you’d chosen to put on earlier was a very bad decision and will instantly kill the mood when Michael sees them. b) You’re being a little too forward. Despite Michael’s last comment, neither of you have specified what you hope to happen once you arrive at his apartment. There’s still a huge question mark as to whether he actually wants to see your underwear and what’s beneath them.

Michael rolls his eyes fondly and jabs you gently in the ribs with his free hand. “Don’t make me feel like more of a whore than I already do.” He laughs, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment. “I don’t even know your last name but my mind keeps racing over stuff I wanna do with you the second my front door is closed.” His tone is low and shy but his words ease your nerves considerably. It means that you only have to worry about your nerdy underwear now.

“I hope they match up with the things running through my mind.” You smirk, wiggling your eyebrows mischievously. “Just as long as you keep the lights off so you don’t see my very unsexy boxers.”

Before Michael can answer, a rain shower begins. A few tiny droplets land on your head but you ignore them, focusing on the way Michael giggles as the chilly raindrops start to trickle down his face. “This rain shower couldn’t have held off for a few more minutes?” He chuckles. “We’re like five minutes away!”

“It’s just a little shower…” you shrug, cuddling Michael closer into your side. “I'm sure you look just as gorgeous, if not more so when you’re wet.”

Michael pokes you in the ribs again good-naturedly, “you can stop with the flattery, I already want to suck the life out of you, handsome.”

There’s no way to stop the groan that escapes you. That would probably only be classed as the mildest form of dirty talk, but coming from Michael, in that innocent but slightly gruff voice, it felt like the dirtiest and most exciting proposition you’ve ever had in your life.

As though nature itself was trying to give you a cold shower to clear your head, the rain begins to fall harder and faster, turning into a torrential downpour in a matter of seconds.

Michael lets out an adorable little squeal as he pulls you off the main street onto a much quieter road. The two of you break into a run but Michael threads his fingers through yours so that you stay connected.

You’re both already soaked by the time you reach the shelter of a disused railway bridge. You laugh, although the sound dies in your throat when you catch sight of Michael leaning against the brickwork. You were 100% correct, he looks somehow even more gorgeous wet. He shakes his head like a naughty little dog, sending flecks of cold water everywhere and leaving his bleached blonde hair hanging limply around his face.

He looks like something out of your wildest dreams, pale and almost angelic in the hazy light from the street lamps lining the road you’ve just come from.

You step towards him, unable to stop yourself from wiping your thumb across his cheek, following the line of his cheekbone as your gaze drifts to his lips. “This fucking storm is delaying us. You have no idea how much I want to feel and taste every inch of you, gorgeous.”

Michael lets out a tiny whimper, wrapping his arms around your neck. “Same, handsome.” He replies. “In the meantime you could kiss me again?”

You don’t need to be asked twice. You close the gap between your own lips and his, cupping Michael’s face in one hand as you swallow his first needy little whine.

It becomes clear very quickly that kissing Michael in a secluded, aleit very public place, was a bad idea. He proves all-too intoxicating with his sinful lips and innocent whimpers as you press your body close to his.

He slides his fingers into your hair and tugs slightly, drawing a growl from you as you nip his bottom lip in retaliation. The slight pain only seems to heighten Michael’s arousal. He throws back his head, exposing a long expanse of his pale neck that’s just too inviting. You move your kisses away from the blonde’s lips and along his jaw until you reach the pale, sensitive skin below his ear. The noises that the soft contact coaxes from Michael are every bit as delicious as you’d hoped.

Michael whines. “Uh, your lips-” he cuts himself off on a harsh gasp as you suck harder on his neck, intent upon leaving a mark. “Fuck!” The blonde moans. “You’re really testing my resolve here, handsome.” His voice is breathy and filled with lust.

Your body reacts exactly the way it always does when it’s pressed against a hot guy. It seems to move without your permission, your hips rolling against Michael’s as you wriggle one of your thighs between both of his. “I lost mine the second you pulled me in here, gorgeous.” You mumble into his neck. “If I could take you right now I would…”

“Soon…” Michael breathes tugging at your hair again. “I promised to suck the life out of your first.”

As much as you’d love to throw caution to the wind and urge Michael to his knees right now, the risk of being caught by a passer-by is still too high. You figure that you’ll need some sort of release before you continue your journey to Michael’s place, but it has to be a bit more discreet than a blowjob.

“I’ll hold you to that when we get to your apartment.” You whisper, working your kisses back towards Michael’s lips. “Can’t have a pretty angel like you dropping to his knees on the wet pavement.”

Michael pouts at you, widening his eyes like a kitten that’s just had his favourite toy confiscated. “But I wanna taste you so bad…”

“And you will, angel.” You promise, working your thigh against his stiffening cock in a slow but firm rhythm. “I can’t wait to see what you can do with this dirty mouth.” You run your thumb over his bottom lip teasingly, as you rest your forehead against his, revelling in the way his breath hitches in his throat when he starts to rut against you in search of more friction. “I just know it’s gonna be even better than I’m imagining.”

Michael nods, gasping into your mouth as he initiates another heated kiss. “I can take whatever you’ve got to give to me, handsome.” He confirms once you pull away for air. “Can’t wait to see what I’m working with.” He drops one of his hands, hesitantly slipping it between your bodies as he fixes you with a questioning glance, silently asking if he can touch you.

Not wanting to waste more time on words, you loosely grasp his wrist and thrust your clothed dick into his palm. “Fuck, handsome…You feel big.” Michael groans hungrily. “Uh, I can’t wait to get my mouth on you.”

The way Michael seems to happily follow your lead with every movement you make, gives you an added confidence as well as turning you on even more. Words start to spill from your mouth without engaging your filter first. “Yeah? If you do a good enough job of sucking me off, maybe I’ll give you something in return…” To give him a better idea of what you mean without being too intense, you reach around to grasp his ass.

“Mmm, please!” Michael gasps. “Want to feel you fill me up.”

The words cause your cock to twitch with interest as you thrust into Michael’s hand. “Yeah, angel! I bet you’d feel so fucking good.” You bury your face into his neck, keeping a firm grip on his ass cheeks.

“P-please touch me, handsome!” Michael whimpers, “need you!”

The pounding of the rain on the pavement seems to sync with that of your heart as you slide one hand around to palm at Michael through his jeans. His desperate whines bring you to the very brink of your orgasm. “Fuck, baby!” You groan into his skin. “Can’t wait to see you come apart for me!”

That does it. Michael tumbles over the edge, the broken moans of your name as he spills into his underwear has you following him immediately. A stream of curses slip past your lips as you thrust into Michael’s hand a few times to ride out your climax.

Michael wraps both of his arms around your neck, clinging to you as he fights to control his ragged breaths. “Shit… handsome.” He gasps. “I haven’t cum in my pants since I was in high school.” He gives you a tiny laugh and you wrap your arms around him to keep as close as possible.

“Same.” You chuckle, “I guess we have this damn storm to blame for that.”

Michael hums in response, glancing out at the persistent rain. “How long do you think it’ll last?”

Following his gaze you give a lazy shrug. “I dunno, it looks pretty set in for the night if you ask me.”

“Then I guess we’ll just have to get wet again.” Michael smirks. “After that little preview, I’m even more impatient to get you into my bed.”

***

Tag list: @h0tsos @byxthexway @afuckingunicornn @painkillerash @moonchildsblack @calumbbyyy @loveroflrh @sexgodashton @megz1985 @myfalsedevotion @aulxna @honeyedlashton @tea4sykes @ghostofmashton @fairyintheglass @cashworthy @cashtonasfuck @opheliaaurora23 @5sosnsfw @wildmichaelflower @wildfl0wer-meg @irwinkitten @cxddlyash @wildmalumflower @cashtonasff5sos @iovehemmings @lowpowermodex @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles @celticclifford @5-secondsofcolor @queer-5sos @Secret-Diary-of-an-Aquarius-blog @babylon-corgis @paradigmax @koalacal @treatallwithkindness @lovelybonesetc @morguleth @atlcalm @mantlereid @calumsmermaid @lashtonswildflower @mermaidcashton @mysticalhood

#michael clifford #5sos #michael clifford imagine #michael clifford blurb #michael clifford fic #male reader #michael clifford smut #5sos imagine #5sos blurb #5sos fic #5sos smut #michael #michael imagine #michael blurb #michael fic #michael smut #my writing

51 notes · View notes

toomanystoriessolittletime · 5 years

Text

Bless me father

Summary: You really needed to get laid. It’s been a long two years. And when the hot stranger walked through the door of your favorite pub and said all the right things, you were sure you made the right descision when you took him home for that night. That was until you saw him 2 weeks later. In the church. Baptizing your friends child.

Words: 4.852 (holy crap)

Pairing: Priest!?John Constantine / F!Reader

warnings: Smut (and a very questionable plot)

A/N: I can’t believe I wrote this. I started this a month ago. Aparently this happens when I listen to too much Hozier and watch that certain episode of Fleabag to often (check Season 2 out). This also started out as something entire differently. But to quote @fanficsrusz (who wanted to be tagged so there you go) We’re going to hell anyway so... enjoy?

„Oh my god.“ You whispered. Looking at your sister, who was sitting beside you.

“What?” She leant to you to whisper back.

“The guy I told you about… From the pub…”

“Can we talk about him, when we’re not in a church at a baptism?”

“It’s him.” You looked at her with big eyes.

“Who?” She asked giving you the side eye.

You gestured towards the man who was holding the baby that was about to be baptized.

“I slept with the fucking priest.”

1 week earlier

It had been one of these days. You know days when you woke up to get to work and had a mood that could only get better instead of worse.

It started with the coffee machine at home being broken. Then your car wouldn’t start, so you had to take the bus to get to work, which resulted in you being 30 minutes late. Thankfully your boss didn’t mind, it had been the first time. But when you got to your desk and saw the amount of work that waited for you, you wanted to scream. Instead you rolled your eyes and got to work.

10 hours later, the only thing that could lift your mood was a beer at your favourite pub.

They knew you there. You basically spend most of your free time there. Not as a crazy drunk person. But you enjoyed your occasional beer. And the company.

“There you are. I was wondering if you would get here today.” Alex, the owner of the pub, said as you sat down in front of him. He looked like your godfather. But younger. And more Swedish.

Your beer was standing in front of you only seconds later. You took a big sip.

“Jesus this day sucked.” You sighed, losing your coat, putting it on the seat next to you.

“Wanna talk about it?” Alex looked at you.

“It’s just one of these days…” You knew exactly why you were in such a shitty mood. Alex looked at you calmly.

“It’s been 2 years on the day, hasn’t it?” He asked. You nodded, picking up your beer and emptying it.

“You need to get over it.”

“You don’t just get over your husband dying in a car crash.” You looked at Alex, who was sighing.

“I know. But he wouldn’t want you to be miserable. He’d say you need to get laid. It’s been 2 years Sweetheart.” Alex winked at you, which made you chuckle. Yes. That sounded like Jake. And Alex would know. He was his best friend.

“And how do I get laid? It’s not like there’s a line somewhere.”

The door of the pub opened, and your head turned in the direction, to see who entered. Good thing you already drank your beer. There was no other words as to describe him as sex on legs.

Completely dressed in black, he looked through the room and slowly made his way to the opposite end of the bar you were sitting in. He had short dark hair, no beard, which brought out his perfect cheekbones. Alex chuckled beside you. You closed your mouth which apparently had opened and coughed looking at him.

“Maybe he can get you laid.” He whispered grinning, walking down the bar to take his order.

“Oh my god shut up.” You called after him, which made him laugh loudly. The hot stranger looked at you, his eyebrows raised, before his attention was on Alex to order.

Another beer was placed in front of you a couple of minutes later.

“I need to get up early tomorrow. No more beer for me. But I’ll take a tea.” You told Alex.

“It’s not from me.” You looked at him, and he nodded in the direction down the bar.

“Oh come on. Stop messing with me.”

“I’m not. He told me to get you your favourite. Because you looked like hell.”

“You’re kidding.”

He shook his head.

“I’m not.” He held his hands up innocently. You looked at him, and came to the conclusion, that he was not messing with you. You got up, took the beer and walked over to hot guy.

“Are you always randomly offending people, or am I the exception?” You asked, standing beside him. He turned in his seat to look at you. His brown eyes taking you in. Damn.

“It wasn’t my intention to offend you. I merely wanted to improve your day.”

“By saying I look like hell?”

“By inviting you for a drink, so you wouldn’t think about what is on your mind.”

“Right.” You looked confused at him, there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

“If you want talk about it…”

“Why would I talk about my issues with a complete stranger?”

“People say I’m a good listener.”

“What people?”

“People.” He shrugged his shoulders. Alex apparently had served him his drink. Scotch.

You still looked at him confused, as he picked up his glass and brought it to his lips. You breathed in deep, as you saw his jawline work. Jesus fucking Christ…

“Tea?” Alex stood beside you, trying to hide his grin.

“Thanks.” You took it and sat down beside hot stranger guy who looked at you.

“I’m John by the way.”

“Y/N.”

“So what is on your mind?”

“Just a shitty day I guess.”

“Talk about shitty days.” He shook his head, breathing out loudly.

“Oh?” You asked.

“First day at the new job. Not exactly happy how it went.” He explained.

“Wanna talk about it? People say I’m a good listener.” You smirked at him. He laughed, holding his hand in front of his mouth. That was cute.

“Not much to talk about. I took over the job that had been done by someone else for almost 20 years and everything is a mess. It will take me forever to sort it out.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“It is complicated. Thank you. The first one who finally understands me.” He genuinely smiled.

“You are very welcome.” You winked at him and you could swear you saw him blush, but he hid his face in his hands very quickly.

You looked across the room to spot Alex who was giving you two thumbs. You rolled your eyes and put you attention back to John.

“So what about you?” He asked you.

“What about me?”

“Why did you have a shitty day?” He put his head on one of his hands, turning his whole attention to you.

“Oh… Just… Work stuff. And a broken coffee machine in the morning. And… then my car wouldn’t start. Shit I forgot about that.”

“Good thing it’s Friday. Or do you need your car tomorrow?”

“Nope. I’m planning on staying in bed the whole weekend.” You nibbled innocently on your tea and John coughed, having just drank from his scotch.

You put your hand on his back, rubbing it gently.

“You okay?” You asked him. He nodded.

“Thank you.”

“So, if you just started working here, have you seen any of the sights?” You asked him, having talked for about an hour about what came to your minds.

“I actually grew up here.”

“You did?”

“In the orphanage on the other side of town.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry. What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“It’s been 40 years, I think I can tell you, that my parents died in a car crash, when I was 4 years old.”

“Must have been hard to grow up there.”

“It was.” He looked at your hand, which was laying on his. You didn’t even notice that you put it there. He turned his hand, enwinding your fingers with his, drawing small circles on the back of your hand. You closed your eyes, breathing in deep, before you opened them again to look at him. The look he gave you, with his slightly parted lips, eyes as dark as chocolate, made you shiver.

“We’re closing.” Alex shouted and you blinked a couple of times, before you turned your head. There were only 4 people left, including the two of you.

“Put it on my tab?” You asked Alex.

“Sure thing. What about you?” He looked at John, who still had the same expression on his face. He searched for a couple of notes, and handed him over to Alex.

“That’s 20 to much.”

“Keep it.” He finally looked at Alex, smiling gently.

“Well thank you. Please come back as often as you like.” Alex smiled. John nodded.

“Do you need a lift home?” Alex asked you.

You looked from him to John.

“I think I’m good Alex. Thanks.”

“Well then. See you tomorrow.” Alex handed you your coat. John stood and held it out for you, helping you put it on.

“Thanks.” You knotted the belt of you coat, looking up at John. He really was tall. You didn’t notice it all the time you were sitting beside him.

“Can I give you a lift home?” He asked, putting his jacket on.

“That would be great, yes.” You smiled up at him, already going to the door.

As soon as the cold night air hit you, you were wide awake. Were you about to invite a complete stranger into your home? Well not complete stranger. You liked him. He wasn’t wrong when he told you, that he was a good listener.

The door behind you opened, and John stepped out, a cigarette in his mouth, lightening it on his way over to you. What was it about good looking men and cigarettes?

“Where’s your car?” You ask.

“I don’t have a car.” He came to stand in front of you and nodded his head to your right, where a motorcycle was standing.

“I’ve never rode a motorcycle.” You confessed.

“Well another first time.” He whispered, putting the hair, that had fallen into your face, behind your ear, softly touching your ear, caressing you cheek.

“Another first time?” You asked hoarsely, your hand hesitantly wandering up his chest. He was so close.

“First time at the new job. First time at the pub. First time meeting you. First time…” He turned his head, to push the smoke out of his lungs, throwing the cigarette away. You could feel his heart beating, beneath your fingers.

“First time?” You asked shakily.

“We shouldn’t do this.” He whispered as he bend down to kiss your lips. His soft lips lay firm on yours, his arms coming around you, to put you flush against his chest. Your hands wandered into his neck, up in his hair, making him open his mouth, where your tongue found his. He bit lightly into your lip as you parted for some air. Apparently you needed air to survive. A weird concept when you knew you could be kissing him instead.

He looked down at you. You could see the passion in his eyes. But there was something else in it. Confusion? Regret? You weren’t sure.

“Let’s get you home.” He again whispered and helped you sit on his motorcycle, putting the helmet on your head, before he himself sat in front of you, grabbing you hands, crossing them around his waist. You clanged to his back.

“Where to?” He asked. You gave him your address, offering directions.

“No need. I know exactly where to go.” He winked at you, as he put his helmet on and started the engine.

You barely made it through the door of your house, as John picked you up, pinning you with your back on the door, kissing you demanding. Your legs came around his hips, as his hand wandered up your thigh, his other hand next to your head on the wall. You whimpered, as he began to roll his hips, making you feel just how aroused he was.

“We shouldn’t do this.” He whispered again, his tongue drawing a line down your throat, kissing your neck.

“You... You keep saying that… But you’re doing it anyway.” You stuttered, drawing your head back to rest at the door behind you. He pushed you further up, his hand wandering from your thigh up to you cleavage. He opened the first buttons of you blouse, before he quickly shoved it open, buttons flying everywhere. His tongue dipped between you still clothed breasts, before he put the cup of your bra down, and gently sucked on your nipple, before he bit in it, making you cry out loud.

“Keep doing that, and I’m going to…” You started to say, as his lips closed around your other bud, sucking hard, his tongue flicking around it.

“Oh god…” You cried out, your whole body shaking. He stopped what he was doing, looking at you.

“Did you just..?” He raised an eyebrow. You grabbed him by his shirt, and kissed him hard.

“Yes I did just cum John. And you haven’t even touched me anywhere near to where I want you to touch me.” Growling he pushed you off the door.

“Bedroom.” There was no question in his voice. You put your feet down on the ground, suddenly feeling very confident, as you removed your blouse and opened your bra, never leaving his eyes, as you let them both fall to the ground. His eyes taking you in. You turned around, walking up the stairs to your bedroom. It wasn’t long until you felt two arms around your waist, his head coming to rest on your shoulder before he picked you up again, tossing you on your bed shrieking. You turned, resting your weight on your arms as you looked up at him. The only light in the room was the moonlight that came through the windows, accenting his figure even more. He wasn’t just hot. He was beautiful.

“You’re wearing entirely to many clothes, John.” You said, wetting your lips, as you looked up at him. You pushed yourself up, to knee on the bed and began to open his shirt. One button after the next, before you slowly pushed it down his shoulders. Kissing his collarbones, your hands rested on his chest. You let your tongue wander down, nibbling on his nipple. You looked up at him, his eyes watching your every move.

You kissed yourself down his stomach, dipping your tongue into his bellybutton, before your hand began to rub him through his pants. He was impressive to say the least. He moaned, as you slowly worked your hand up and down. You could see his jaw tense, he closed his eyes, surely enjoying what you were doing. You were about to open his belt, when you felt his hands on yours.

“Lay back, legs up.” He whispered demanding.

You bit your lip, as you let yourself fall down into your bed. He grabbed your legs, slowly dragging down your pants and panties in one go. He tossed them behind him, kissing your ankle, as he slowly kneeled down, spreading your legs on his way down. You suddenly felt very exposed, laying like this in front of him, and tried to close your legs, as you felt his lips on your inner thigh. You looked down at him, as his head lay in front of you, just looking at your core.

You were about to ask, what he was doing, when he gently pushed himself up and his lips lightly sucked on your outer lips. You let your head fall back in the sheets, moaning deeply. It had been more than 2 years since anyone than you had even touched you.

Sucking and licking his way up he closed his lips around your clit and flicked his lips over it. Your hands flew into his hair to hold him there. You could feel him smiling, as he licked himself down to your opening, shoving his tongue into you. You couldn’t look away from his eyes, that were intensely looking at you, as he began to eat you out. You were breathing heavy, when you felt two of his fingers pushing into you, his tongue working on your clit. Your hips started to move to get him deeper ,when his fingers brushed over a particular spot inside you, that had you nearly screaming.

“There it is...” He himself nearly moaned. He put all his attention to this spot, while you grabbed the sheets beside you.

“Fuck. I’m gonna...” You moaned.

“Come” He murmured, sucking hardly on your clit. You came, your whole body shaking, breathing heavy, rolling your hips, as he fingerfucked you through your orgasm. You were pretty sure you saw stars at some point.

He pulled his fingers out of you, putting them in his mouth before he leant down to you, kissing you, tasting yourself. Your hands crossed behind his neck, making their way down his strong back, your fingers sneaking in his pants, lightly scratching his ass.

He growled, reaching for your hands.

“Hands up. And leave them there.”

“Yes Sir.” You groaned, putting your hands above your head, resting them on your pillow. Who would have thought you like being manhandled?

He opened his belt, pulling it out of it’s loops in one movement, throwing it on the ground. You bit your lip. The anticipation was nearly killing you.

He opened the buttons of his pants, letting them drop to the ground. Apparently he wasn’t a big fan of underwear. Crawling on top of you, you suppressed the urge to put your arms around him. He kissed himself up from your hips, leaving a line to your breasts, up to you neck, before his lips were on yours. You could feel him at you entrance, rolling your hips to get some kind of friction. He bit in your earlobe and sucked on the skin behind you ear. Your hands came to rest on his back, lightly scratching his skin, as he looked at you.

“Didn’t I say to leave your hands up?” He asked, moving his tip up and down your slit, making you moan.

“I never said I would.” You rolled your hips, his tip slightly sinking into you. He smirked before he pushed forward and thrusted his length into you. You closed your eyes, opening your mouth but no sound came out of it. You felt so full.

“Open your eyes.” He whispered, his left arm sneaking behind your back, lifting you up slightly. You opened your eyes, breathing in deep as he began to slowly move inside you. Unintentionally you clenched your muscles, making him moan.

“God you’re tight.”

“It’s been some time.” You groaned, rolling your hips to meet his movements.

“For me too.” He grabbed your leg, putting it over his shoulder, fastening his pace.

“I find that hard to believe.” You shuddered, as he brushed against that spot again.

“Hmmm... Harder” You moaned, your hands wandering down to touch yourself.

He started to thrust harder into you, grabbing your other leg, putting it on his shoulder too. He was so deep inside of you, you would be sore for days. His hand came down, to where you were touching yourself, moving your hand faster, as he quickened his movements.

Your whole body shook as you came within seconds, hissing he pulled out of you to come on your stomach. You were both breathing heavy as he leaned down to kiss you, before he let himself fall on his back next to you. Neither of you moved or said anything for a couple minutes, both of you trying to control your breathing. When you began to shiver, this time from the cold, you got up to the ensuite to pee and clean yourself a little. Walking back you saw him looking at you, so you extra swayed your hips. As you climbed back into your bed, warm arms came around you to pull you on his chest. You put the blanket above both of you and fell asleep within the next minutes, listening to his heartbeat.

…..

Your sister looked at you with big eyes, before she straightened up in her seat, eying the priest. There was no doubt. It was John, that was wearing a beige robe, taking about how blessed this child is, now that it is about to be baptized and become a child of god.

“I mean he is hot. You didn’t lie there.” Your sister said, turning her head to you.

“He still is a priest. A catholic priest. Who is supposed to live in celibate.”

“From what you’ve told me, I don’t think he lives in celibate.” She whispered, wiggling her eyebrows. The priest looked through the crowd and was startled for a second, as he spotted you. You were still trying to wrap your head around the fact that you had the best sex of your life with a catholic priest, so you didn’t really pay attention to what he was saying.

You were standing outside together with your sister, when you shivered. Your sister looked behind you, and then back to you.

“I’ll leave you to it then.” She kissed your cheek. “Don’t blame yourself. He should have told you. Also. He’s really really hot.”

“Not helpful.” You whispered back as she smiled.

“Father.” She greeted him and left you standing with him.

Shaking your head you exhaled and turned around.

“Can I do something for you, Father?” You raised your eyebrow and John looked down at you. He had lost his robe somewhere on the way and was only wearing his black pants and dress shirt. And his clerical collar. You crossed your arms in front of you. Waiting for him to say something.

“I should have told you.”

“No shit.” You hissed. A couple of heads turned towards you and you nodded smiling at them until they turned away from you.

“Would it have mattered if I told you?” He asked. You thought about that. Would it? You took to long to answer, and saw him nodding his head, a little smirk on his face.

“I can’t talk about that on the baptism of my friends baby.”

“Then come see me later. I’ll be here.” He gestured to the church.

“ I’m sure you will.” You said and left him standing.

“Oh please. Don’t tell me you would have said no, if he had told you. You merely regret the lost opportunity of moaning Father when he made you come.” Your sister said.

“Rude.” You punched her arm, drinking your second glass of prosecco. You had left the party after the baptism rather shortly. Your sister following you. Now you were sitting on her balcony, looking down the street.

“What did he say after I left?” She asked.

“He wants to talk. I should come see him at the church.”

“What are you doing here then?”

“Trying to talk myself out of going there, because I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself, if he’s standing in front of me.”

Your sister shrugged her shoulders. “We’re all going to hell anyway. If you get all hot and bothered because you get laid by a priest, who cares? We’re atheists anyway.”

“How are we related?” You asked her and shook your head laughing, emptying your glass.

“Okay I’m going.”

He was standing outside of the church, when you exited your car. The sun just started to go down, leaving a pink light to illuminate everything. He spotted you right away and walked towards you, putting his cigarette out, which he had been smoking.

“You have some explaining to do.” You told him. He nodded.

“Let’s get inside. I have to get my stuff.”

“Okay.”

You walked behind him into the church. You shouldn’t be thinking about how his naked skin under your fingers felt. Or how he tasted, but you couldn’t help yourself. Stopping in the middle of the aisle you looked up to the big cross hanging in front of you.

You never had been raised religious. Your parents didn’t believe in it, and neither did you. Still, it felt weird. Having thoughts like these in a church. The house of god. Where people came to pray.

“If it would make you feel better, I could take your confession.” John was standing at the altar, waiting for you.

“I’m not catholic. And I don’t think you taking my confession would help me ease my thoughts. Shouldn’t you be confessing? Or punishing yourself? You didn’t just break you celibate, you lied. You drank. Aren’t these all things, you’re supposed to not be doing? Stop smiling at me you idiot.”

“I’m sorry. And yes. Yes you’re right. I did break all the rules to have you but I don’t regret it.”

“No?”

He walked towards you and your breath hitched, when he stopped right in front of you. You could feel his warmth and smell his scent.

“Let me take your confession.” He whispered into your ear and you swallowed. Where you about to have kinky sex in a church? He tilted his head, towards the confessional and started walking towards it, disappearing on the left side. Headshaking you followed him, sitting down on the right side, closing the curtain. There was little coming from the other side where John was sitting.

“So what should I confess to you now?” You asked, crossing your legs.

“That’s not how it works. You say Bless me father for I have sinned and then you tell me when your last confession was.”

“But I’m not catholic.”

“Humour me.”

“You just want me to address you as father because you like hearing it, don’t you?” And deep inside you, you did too. You were met with silence on the other side

Ah fuck it.

“Bless me father for I have sinned. I’ve never confessed, so it’s been a little more than 32 years.”

“What do you have to confess?”

“Apart from sleeping with a catholic priest who is sitting next to me?” She quirked her eyebrow. You could hear him chuckle.

“Yes. Apart from that.”

You sighed.

“Well I’m not exactly familiar with your rules. But... I guess it’s safe to say I use God’s name in every way not appropriate. Let’s see... I once lied to my mom about going to a slumber party with my best friend, when I really went to sleep with my boyfriend. Oh I stole a bathrobe at a hotel once. I’m good at this.” You laughed a little.

“This is not supposed to be fun.”

“Well maybe you should confess your sins then.” You suggested.

“You’re no priest.”

“And I’m not catholic and yet her I sit, confessing my sins to you.” You were met with silence again.

After a couple minutes you were pretty sure, that he wouldn’t talk, so you stood, walking out of the confessional, when a hand grabbed your wrist, and he pulled you back, closing the door behind you, pushing you down on his lap. His lips were on yours, as his hands wandered under your dress up your thigh. Your hands were in his hair. You couldn’t believe this was happening. He rubbed you over the thin fabric of your panties, before he pulled it to the side and shoved his finger deep inside of you. You bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning. Arching your back, your hands came to his shoulders, lifting you up and down, as you rode his finger. He added two more and you positively lost your mind. Until he firmly grabbed you hip, keeping you still, stopping all his movements, with his fingers buried deep inside of you.

You looked down at him.

“You want me to confess my sins?” He asked you, slowly moving his fingers inside of you. You bit your lip and nodded.

“I came here to take care of something, but on my first night here I met you.” His thumb came up to your clit, beginning to slowly draw circles, while his fingers still moved within you. You whimpered.

“And instead of focusing on my task here, all I can think about is the various places I want to fuck you in.” He began to move faster.

“It’s difficult as it is, trying to play the priest, but you...” He shook his head. “You I haven’t counted in.”

It took a while until the information he just gave you, processed in your brain.

“You’re not a priest?” You asked.

“I didn’t say that.” He smirked.

You crossed your arms around his neck, as you felt your orgasm approach fast.

“John...” You breathed as you came, tugging on his hair, as you rode down your high.

You barely heard his zipper, before he replaced his fingers inside you with his cock.

“Oh god.” You moaned quietly.

“Again with the blasphemy.” He chuckled, grabbing your legs, to put them behind his back, picking you up and pressing you against the wall. He started to push into you faster and harder.

“Bloody Hell John” You moaned, as you felt his finger rubbing your clit. You were about to come again.

“That’s where we’re all going anyway honey.” He groaned in your ear, as he spilled inside of you, taking you over the edge with him.

#ff #fanfic #fanfiction #keanu reeves #smut #I'll be outside #waiting for the ground to open #because you know hell and stuff #john constantine x reader

859 notes · View notes

abundanceofsoph · 4 years

Text

SkyFire 3: Chapter 2

New York & Saturday Night Live: April 2017

Word count: 4.8k

SkyFire 3 MASTERLIST

Sorry it's been so long since the last chapter but I'm finally back at work after 75 days in lockdown. Updates will probably be a bit more spaced out than they were in Parts 1 & 2 but please know that I am still working away at it and I already have so many future chapters planned out that I'm really excited for.

This chapter is a bit of a long one and I thought about splitting it in half but figured you deserved the treat after waiting patiently.

Don't forget to leave a comment if you're enjoying the series and let me know what you think.

>Instagram posts

By the time Aurora woke up Monday morning, Harry’s side of the bed was cold, and he had long since left for the day. Since he would be appearing in multiple sketches on the upcoming episode of Saturday Night Live, he was needed for rehearsals all week. Aurora was thankful that she and the rest of the band weren’t needed until Friday and instead she was able to sleep in. Their flight had arrived in New York well after midnight and by the time they made their way to the tower they had both decided to head straight to bed. Aurora was fairly certain her father would have still been awake, working in his lab but she was far too tired for a reunion after hours on a plane.

Once she managed to roll herself out of bed and get dressed for the day ahead, Aurora made her way down the hall to the open plan kitchen/living area of the penthouse with its wide, floor to ceiling wall of windows looking out over the sprawling expanse of Central Park. Both Tony and Steve were sitting on the stools at the kitchen’s island bench, waiting for their daughter to wake up. Steve had seen Harry earlier that morning as he was leaving, and Steve had been coming back from his early morning run. Both he and Tony were eager to have their daughter home for an entire week and while Steve was happy to sip on his tea and read the morning while they waited, Tony was practically vibrating in his seat with barely contained excitement. Steve’d had to stop him twice from having JARVIS ‘accidentally’ wake Aurora up, so Tony was unsurprisingly the first out of his seat when she finally appeared.

Aurora was grinning widely and broke into a fit of giggles as her father rushed over and lifted her off the ground in a crushing hug. Despite having seen each other only two weeks ago, the craziness of the wedding hadn’t really allowed them much time to just hang out together and prior to the wedding they had spent a solid 5 months apart given the last minute changes to their Christmas plans in the wake of Johannah’s death.

“Missed you Dad,” she said, returning the tight hug.

“Missed you too Kiddo,” Tony replied, finally setting her back on her feet and allowing her to cross the room and fall into Steve’s arms.

The small family spent the entire day together, watching a movie and then moving down to Tony’s workshop in the afternoon so that he could work on a prototype for Stark Industries while Steve and Rori sketched on the sofa. It was reminiscent of how they had spent many evenings shortly after Rori first came to live with her fathers, the memories of those long nights brought a soft smile to her face as she sketched Dumm-e and Butterfingers, where they were attempting to help Tony, but instead were causing more problems than they were able to solve. Harry found them all there when he arrived back to the tower later that evening, grinning excitedly as he launched into his recounting of his first day with the SNL cast.

xXx

Since first meeting her father’s childhood best friend, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, three years ago, Aurora had slowly come to see him as a member of the family. For the first year that they had both lived in the tower together, they had coexisted amicably but had been far from friends, nothing close to the way Aurora was with the rest of the team. Even as her relationship with Sam had flourished quickly as he acclimatized to life as an Avenger she had struggled to be around Bucky. He hadn’t held her distant behaviour against her, knowing that while most of the team had been able to separate the actions of the Winter Soldier from Bucky himself, Aurora had struggled to accept into her home the man who had tried, on several occasions, to assassinate one of her fathers. Following the Columbia Shooting, she had surprised him by seeking him out during her recovery and their friendship had bloomed after her amputation surgery. Now, many years later Bucky easily filled the role of another uncle in Aurora’s life, a shift that had made Steve overwhelmingly happy.

It was late Tuesday afternoon and Steve went in search of his daughter, having not seen her since they’d shared lunch together. He expected to see her in the workshop with Tony, however his husband said he hadn’t seen her since breakfast. With the help of JARVIS he finally found her on one of the lower floors, the one shared by Sam, Bucky and Rhodey when he was in town. She was in the living room sitting across the table from Bucky, a game of Battleship between the pair. Steve suppressed a chuckle as he joined the pair, well aware by now of how much his best friend and his daughter enjoyed playing a variety of tabletop games together. Many arguments had been started over a game of backgammon or canasta.

“Who’s winning?” he asked, pulling up a chair beside Aurora and throwing an arm around her shoulders.

“I’m kicking his ass,” she smiled.

“She’s getting cocky,” Buck replied, “and it’s going to backfire on her in a minute.”

“Of course it is,” Aurora said, her tone dripping in sarcasm.

The game continued for a while, Aurora cheering and taunting when she sunk another of Bucky’s ships, mocking him mercilessly when he continued to miss her own turn after turn.

“I don’t understand why you always beat me,” he moaned when she won. “I mean surely your luck has to run out eventually.”

“It’s not luck, Bucky,” Rori laughed. “It’s about strategy and reading your opponent and I hate to tell you, but you are entirely predictable.”

“I’ll have you know I’m an excellent battle strategist,” Bucky retorted.

“Apparently you’re not,” Aurora bit back, a wide smile gracing her face. Steve let out a loud peel of laughter at their bickering.

“Excuse me,” JARVIS interrupted. “Miss Stark, you requested that I alert you when young Mr Styles returned to the tower.”

“Thanks J,” Rori replied, kissing her fathers’ cheek and jumping to her feet, ready to head towards the elevator.

“Miss Stark?” Steve asked.

“He said that Dad programmed him to call me that and no marriage certificate is gonna change it,” Rori explained with a roll of her eyes. “Dad could probably get him to stop but honestly I like it. I didn’t get to be a Stark for very long so it’s nice to be one when I come home.”

“You’ll always be a Stark, bug,” Steve promised, returning the kiss on her cheek and watching as she left the room in search of Harry on the upper floors of the Tower.

“Enjoying having her home?” Bucky asked.

“Absolutely,” Steve answered. “I miss her when she’s not here. Tony does too, even if he won’t admit it. She grew up too fast on us.”

“Can’t have been easy not meeting her until she was practically all grown up,” Bucky pointed out.

“No, you’re right,” Steve agreed. “Sometimes I wish we’d got to raise her, but I’d also never want to have taken away any of the time she got with her mom.”

“You and Tony ever think of having another kid?”

“We’ve talked about,” Steve said. “It’s not very easy process. The worlds come a long way since the 40’s Buck, but it’s still hard for two men to adopt. It certainly doesn’t help that we’ve got such dangerous jobs.”

“Guess that makes sense,” Bucky replied. “Never known you to back down from something just because it’s hard or because someone tells you no, though.”

“You might have a point there. Seems we’ve managed to accidently adopt Peter over the years so maybe we’re just meant to keep collecting teenagers.”

xXx

Something Aurora loved about the city was the way that New Yorkers didn’t care about anyone around them. Everyone was busy getting from one place to another and had very little time or care to look at those surrounding them on the crowded sidewalks. Aurora could easily wander the streets without being hassled as she went about her day. Occasionally a tourist would recognize her, but more often than not, a large pair of sunglasses and a hat pulled low would hide her enough to avoid all but the most astute fan. She wore a loose oversized cardigan which hung over the tips of her fingers completely concealing her prosthetic hand as she headed through the streets of midtown Manhattan, her hands full of shopping bags as she walked back towards Avengers Tower. She could have halved the time to get home by taking the subway, but the weather was nice, so she enjoyed the walk, reaching the towers lobby a little after 2 in the afternoon.

By the time she stepped out of the elevator and into the penthouse, she noted Steve, Clint and Bucky sprawled out on the sofas in front of the tv. She dropped her shopping bags onto the floor and launched herself onto the sofa cushion next to Steve, curling herself into his side as his arm fell around her shoulders, hugging her tightly against him.

“Where’ve you been all day?” he asked.

“Went shopping,” Rori explained.

“Do I want to know?” he asked with a soft chuckle.

“I bought wigs.”

“Why on earth are you buying wigs?” Clint butted in.

“Because with the tour coming up,” Rori said, “I want to try out some different hair colours, but I’ve never bleached my hair before and I’m honestly terrified of ruining my hair. So, wigs.”

“Do we get a fashion show?” Steve asked.

“Maybe later,” she mumbled, yawning widely before resting her head back against Steve’s shoulder and staring, glazed eyes at the tv.

xXx

The following day, Sam found Rori sitting alone against one of the large windows, hugging her knees tightly against her chest as she stared out over the city.

“Hey, you,” he said as he took a seat next to her on the floor. “You ok?”

“Yeah I’m good,” she replied, her voice soft and a little distant, her gaze remaining on the view spread out beneath them.

“Remember when you promised me you wouldn’t lie about how you were feeling,” Sam reminded her.

She sighed, her shoulders sagging and her head leaning forward to rest against the cold glass. “I had a panic attack last week,” she mumbled.

“When you got home to London?” he asked.

She shook her head. “On the last day of our honeymoon. This thunderstorm came rolling in out of nowhere the day before we flew home, and I just freaked out and ruined everything. I thought I was getting better.”

“You are getting better,” Sam argued. “This is the first panic attack you’ve had in months. That’s a huge improvement.”

“But I thought they were gone,” Rori sobbed. “I was just starting to feel normal again but I’m never going to be like I was.”

“No, you’re not,” he agreed. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but PTSD isn’t something you just get over. It’s going to be with you for the rest of your life, but that doesn’t have to mean there’s anything wrong with you and I’m sure Harry didn’t think you ruined the trip.”

“Of course he didn’t, he’s Harry,” she said. “He’s always so supportive and just wants to help me through it. It’s not even really about last week,” she admitted. “It’s more about what it says about the rest of the year. The rest of my life. When Harry asked me to join his band, I was terrified that somehow, I would do something to ruin it all, like that somehow my prosthetic would malfunction, and I’d ruin a show. Now I’m wondering what will happen if I have a panic attack at a show? There are so many things that can go wrong, and he’s worked so hard for all of this. I’ll never forgive myself if I do anything to damage that.”

“What happens if Mitch slips over in the rain and breaks his hand and can’t play the guitar? What if Sarah gets the flu and has to sit out a few shows? What if something happens with Adams kids and he has to leave the tour?” Sam asked. “There are so many what ifs and things that can go wrong but did you notice how none of those things had anything to do with anyone’s disabilities? There are things in your life that are going to be more challenging for you than they would have been if you hadn’t been shot. You can’t let that stop you from living. I’m sure Harry and Jeff have all kinds of plans in place for what happens if one of you gets sick and can’t perform, so maybe you should talk to them about your concerns and you can have some plans in place and that will help with the anxiety of it all.”

“You know I really hate when you’re right Sam,” Aurora mumbled, the corners of her lips twitching.

“I know,” he smirked. “But one of these days you’ll learn to accept that I’m never wrong.”

Aurora stuck her tongue out at him before letting out a tired sigh. “I’m just so exhausted. Like, my brain just never stops stressing over these tiny little things and it’s so exhausting to constantly be worrying about everything. I mean Christ, I chipped my nail polish at lunch and it’s all I’ve been able to think about for the last few hours which is ridiculous because who cares if my nail polish is chipped, but I’m going to be on live tv in two days and what if they want a shot of my hands while I’m playing and it’s not like I have time to go get them redone now.”

“Why not just tell the camera operators not to set up that shot?” Sam asked, always the rational voice.

“Yeah,” Rori nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

Having said his piece, Sam stood up after giving her shoulder a quick squeeze and then walked away, leaving her to think about what he’d said. She was still sitting on the floor beside the window deciding how to bring her anxieties to Harry without adding to his already full plate when Nat appeared beside her. “Heard you could do with a manicure,” she said.

She extended her hand, helping Aurora up off the floor and then led her to the elevator and down to her personal floor. Nat didn’t press Aurora to talk as they settled down in her living room and set about removing the chipped polish from the nails of her right hand. Rori was grateful for the silence, not sure that she had the energy to carry a conversation but also glad that she wasn’t alone. Where others in the tower felt that they needed to distract her from her anxiety, it was always Nat that provided what she needed without her ever having to ask. Her thoughts whirled in her head as Nat applied the new pale yellow polish to her nails in slow, methodical strokes, Sam’s advice echoing in Aurora’s ears.

“You seem stressed,” Nat finally said as she finished the topcoat on the last nail.

“Just nervous about the show on Saturday,” Rori replied softly. “Live TV doesn’t leave any room for error.”

“I’m sure you’ll all do great,” Nat promised with a warm smile. “Now lay back and I’ll do a face mask and help you relax. You’re way too tense for a 22 year old.”

Aurora did as she was told without argument, laying back and closing her eyes as Nat spread the cool clay over her face and then she started massaging her long fingers into Rori’s scalp. Once the mask was finished and Nat had cleaned it away with a warm cloth, she set about rubbing moisturizer onto Rori’s face, soothing the pinched muscles between the younger woman’s brow until she fell asleep under Nat’s hands.

When Harry arrived back at the tower a little over an hour later he found most of the team in the penthouse, however his wife was conspicuously absent from the group. He asked JARVIS if she was downstairs in either of the studios, his brow furrowing when the AI informed him that she was in Agent Romanoff’s private quarters and he headed for the elevator.

Nat was sitting on the other sofa across from where Rori was sleeping peacefully, a book in hand when JARVIS’ voice filled the room and she was thankful that she had asked the AI to lower its volume when Aurora had fallen asleep.

“Mr. Styles is requesting access to your floor Agent Romanoff,” JARVIS announced in a hushed whisper.

“Tell him to come in,” Nat replied in an equally soft tone.

A few moments later, the elevator doors opened at the end of the hall and Harry strolled into the room, his eyes immediately falling to his sleeping wife. “Hey,” he whispered to Nat. “Everything ok here?”

“She was getting a bit anxious about Saturday, so we had a bit of a spa day to help her calm down,” Nat explained.

Harry nodded and then headed over to the sofa, sitting on its edge next to Aurora’s hip and reached out to trace his hand along her cheekbone. “Rors?” he soothed. “Time to wake up love.” As she began to stir, Nat left the room allowing the couple to have some privacy.

“You’re home,” Rori mumbled, her voice thick with sleep and a soft smile lifting the corners of her lips. “Missed you today.”

“Heard you had a bad day,” Harry said, pulling her up and into a tight hug. “Sorry I wasn’t here.”

“S’ok,” she replied as she pressed her face into the crook of his neck. “Just got in my head a bit and spiralled.”

“Feeling better now?”

“Much,” she promised. “Always feel better when you’re here.”

“Mitch text me about 20 minutes ago that their flight landed so they’ll be here soon. Wanna come upstairs with me? Think Steve’s cooking a massive dinner.”

Aurora nodded her head and laced her fingers through Harry’s as the headed for the elevator doors.

xXx

Aurora tried to hold back her anxiety as she walked through the door with Harry, Jeff and the rest of the band Friday morning. She knew she was doing a poor job of it when Harry squeezed her hand tightly in an attempt to comfort her. She was angry at herself for her nervousness, knowing that she had performed on bigger stages in front of live audiences in the past, but she couldn’t seem to overcome the fear that she would make a mistake that would make Harry look bad. She could always deal with embarrassing herself, but the idea of screwing up everything that Harry had worked for was what truly made her terrified.

The set was a blur of activity and Harry led them down the halls towards the set where their equipment had been set up. Sarah headed straight to her drum kit and the boys picked up their guitars while Rori and Harry walked over to where the keyboards where a grand piano was waiting for her.

“You look like you’re going to be sick babe,” Harry said. He kept his voice low, whispering in his wife’s ear as she sat down on her bench seat, not wanting draw anyone’s attention to their conversation. “I know you’re going to nail this. Just gotta trust me.”

“I know,” she replied. “God anxiety is such a bitch.” Harry chuckled at her little outburst and then he kissed the top of her head before walking over towards the microphone stand.

They spent the rest of the day running through the two songs they would perform the following evening. They discussed the lighting and camera set ups, making sure that everyone in the band and the crew knew exactly where they would stand and which way the equipment would move during the live broadcast. Occasionally they would take breaks for Harry to go work on the sketches he would be appearing in or they would stop so that Aurora could remove her prosthetic for a while. In the year since she had started wearing the prosthetic hand, Tony and Peter had redesigned the original many times, constantly upgrading and improving it’s coding to make it easier for her to wear for longer periods of time. Despite these upgrades, she still found it hard to wear for too long and after about 4 hours of prolonged use she would start to get horrible tension headaches from the transmitting device she wore behind her left ear. It was for this reason that the majority of their soundchecks were happening on Friday so that Aurora wouldn’t be required to play before the show was ready to go to air. She was always uncomfortable whenever plans had to change in order to accommodate her disability, but Harry had assured her repeatedly over the course of the week that it was not a big deal and that they wouldn’t have been needed much on Saturday afternoon anyway, so it wasn’t even that much of a change to the schedule.

By the end of the day, Aurora was exhausted. They had taken plenty of breaks throughout the day, but she knew that she had definitely pushed herself, never wanting to be the one to call for a break and know she was paying for it. She had her prosthetic off and stuffed into her bag before they even reached the car that would take them all the few short blocks back to the tower. She sat in the back seat beside Harry and let her head fall against his shoulder, closing her eyes for the quick 10 minute drive.

“You alright love?” Harry asked quietly as they pulled up in the underground carpark of the tower.

She hummed in response, letting him lead her out of the car and into the waiting elevator. “Just tired,” she promised. “It was a long day.”

“It was,” Harry agreed, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. “Went great though. Think tomorrow’s going to be amazing.”

Aurora wasn’t the only one who was tired and after such a long day of rehearsals, everyone in the band was happy to return to the tower, the inviting smells of dinner greeting them as they stepped out of the elevator to see the entire team crowded around the dining table, waiting for them. Aurora’s eyes lit up as she saw Peter at the table and immediately rushed over to him, pulling him out of his seat and into a hug, her exhaustion evaporated in the wake of seeing him again for the first time since they’d arrived back in town.

“God, where have you been all week?” she asked.

“Sorry been busy with school and patrols,” Peter replied. “I usually only have time to come over Friday nights and on the weekends.”

“Lucky we’re not leaving till Monday then,” Rori smiled. “Otherwise I wouldn’t get to spend any time with you at all. Now talk to me, how’s it feel to almost be finished with High School?”

Harry watched them with an amused smile as they sat next to each other, talking excitedly about Peter’s upcoming graduation and which colleges he had been accepted to. They barely stopped talking throughout the entire meal, completely oblivious to anyone else at the table. Harry hadn’t spent a great deal of time around Peter, given how much time he had spent on the road with One Direction or off filming Dunkirk while Aurora had still been living in the tower full time, but it didn’t really take a lot of time to understand why Tony, Steve and Rori had all rushed to absorb Peter into their little family. He was such a nice kid, always energetic and excited about anything going on everyone’s lives and he was joy to be around. He had so seamlessly fit into the family dynamic that everyone considered him a Stark in all bar name. Harry had once asked Rori about his place in the team, and she had smiled brightly, explaining how happy she was that while she and Steve had always had their art to bond over, she was relieved that Tony now had someone that could keep up with him in the lab and that he could teach Peter and watch him improve. She’d always wanted a little brother and now she had one in Peter. Tony and Steve had already experienced the emotional minefield of establishing parental roles without stepping on the memory of Rori’s mother, to it had been so easy for them to find a way to fill those same roles with Peter over the last few years without diminishing May’s place in his life or erasing the importance of Peter’s parents. The Avenger’s had always been a messy, happy, found family, and with the addition of Peter and May, and then with Mitch, Adam and Sarah, the family just seemed to keep expanding and Harry could see how much Aurora loved having each and everyone of them crowded into the penthouses dining room.

xXx

Saturday was a blur of activity and rushing around, and before Aurora realised someone was yelling that they were going live in 10 minutes. She was sitting out of the way with Sarah on one side of her and Adam on the other, waiting for their time to perform. Harry was off getting ready for the first sketch and they had a small tv hanging on the wall nearby so that they could watch the show while they waited. The first half of the show went off without a hitch and all four of them simply tried to keep out of everyone’s way until a technician came over to heard them towards the set. They were all situated behind their instruments by the time Harry joined them and he quickly ducked over to Rori for a good luck kiss before taking his place at the mic stand and waiting for the signal to start. One of Aurora’s knees was bouncing beneath the piano and there was a slight tremor in her right hand as she closed her eyes and took a few deep breathes on the darkened set. She tuned out the camera’s and the studio audience, her attention narrowing down to her instrument and Harry a few steps in front of her as she began the opening chords of the song. For a few brief seconds her piano was the only sound as the lights began to lift, and Harry’s voice rang out through the studio. As they hit the pre-chorus Rori and Sarah added their voices to the mix and then all of the other instruments joined as they entered the chorus. All of Aurora’s nerves disappeared as Harry belted out the lyrics of the chorus, and in the brief moment right before the second verse he turned, catching her eye and winking before returning to the microphone. In the final lines of the song, right in the middle of the most difficult notes, Aurora heard Harry’s voice falter and he missed a line. She tried to hide a grimace, knowing that he would be kicking himself for slipping at the end of the song. The moment the camera’s cut away she was at his side, arms wrapped tightly around his waist and he pecked her lips quickly. She attempted to comfort him before he was quickly whisked away to change into the costume for the next sketch.

By the time they returned to their little set for their second song Harry appeared to have shaken off the slip up and everyone, including Aurora, was buzzing with adrenaline and ready to go with their second performance. This time the grand piano was gone, and Aurora’s keyboard was positioned behind Harry’s spot at the centre of the stage. With all the sketches out of the way, Aurora watched happily as Harry allowed himself to enjoy the performance. As they finished the song and the audience cheered, Harry quickly pulled his guitar strap over his head and walked over to where Rori was seated behind the keys. He cupped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her softly. “That one was for you my love,” he whispered as their lips separated.

“So proud of you,” she whispered in reply. “You absolutely killed it tonight.”

NEXT CHAPTER

OR CONTINUE READING ON AO3

#skyfire fic #Husband Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #dad!tony #ptsd #domestic fluff #iron dad #step dad steve rogers #aurora stark #harry styles #tony stark #found family avengers

10 notes · View notes

miaa4tez · 5 years

Text

Season 3, Episode 1 or so help me god... Also available on AO3.

Finally // beautiful stranger

He sort of thought she’d maybe... say something, after everything. He’d walked home that night a bundle of uncertainty and self-doubt, but for the first time, he actually felt a bit hopeful. He and Maeve couldn’t seem to stop missing one another, and he was damn near determined that this time, it’d be different.

But then the weekend came and went, and he hadn’t heard from her once, and he found himself growing more self-conscious by the second. Had he been too late? Did he miss his chance for real this time? Was she really... over him?

He nearly races to school come Monday morning, a ball of nerves and pent up energy. He tries being happy for Eric as he recounts endless details about his weekend with Adam, really he does, but all he could think is whether Maeve had truly heard his confession of love and felt... nothing. That might just be the thing to do him in for good.

It takes him a few laps through the school but he finally finds her in the library, a book perched on her lap and her thumbnail between her teeth. He nearly loses his nerve, can’t help but stare at her like this for a moment - unguarded, serene - but then he reminds himself that he’s done being an asshole, damnit, and pushes forward.

“Um, Maeve?” Fucking loser. Man up.

He sees her jaw clench, her teeth biting the inside of her cheek, her eyes shut briefly before she flips a page. He hates that he elicits that response from her now. “Studying, dickhead.”

He watches her swallow and her eyes seem to be going over the same line over and over.

He clenches his hands at his side. “Can we talk?” He unclenches his fists, stretches them in the silence. “Please.”

She’s so good at masking her emotions, but he catches a slight hitch as she clears her throat, shuts her book with a definitive thud and stands abruptly. She meets his eyes, cool and steady, and he feels himself shrink under the weight of her gaze. “I’ve got to get to class.”

She pushes past him then, out the door, and for a moment he considers letting her go. Surely she deserves better than him, better than the hurt he’s caused her. But then he spies her jacket left dangling over the couch and his body is moving without his consent.

“Look I know I said some stupid things but I really think we ought to talk it out so I could tell you how sorry I am,” he pleads, her jacket draped across his arm as he strides behind her.

She speeds up, forcing him to trail after her. “Not much to talk about then, is there? You’re sorry, so that’s it. We’re good then.” She bites the corner of her thumb, refusing to turn and face him as she weaves through the halls.

“Well I just thought...” He stops short. What did he think, really? “I hadn’t heard from you this weekend,” he mutters instead.

She stops in front of her locker, flicks her eyes to his briefly, searching. He lamely extends her jacket to her and she snags it from him a touch too harsh. “Yeah well. I’ve been busy. Not everything is about you, you know.”

He buries his hands deep in his jacket pockets. He’s a little ashamed it’s taken him this long to congratulate her. “Yeah, no, of course. Sorry. Congratulations, by the way. I saw you on TV.”

The corner of her mouth turns up in the barest hint of a smile, but she ignores his attempt to meet her eyes and reaches for her Maths book. “Right. Well it wasn’t just me.”

“You should be proud of yourself, Maeve. They couldn’t have done it without you.”

If he’s thawing her at all, she won’t let on. She bites her bottom lip anxiously and slams her locker in a hurry, but he presses on, hands extending then retracting back to his pockets.

“And I just thought we could clear the air, you know. Be friends again?... I’d really like to be your friend again, Maeve. At least.” He shakes his head. This isn’t going well. “I’ve let you down and I know that. And I understand if you didn’t lis-“

“Otis.” She interrupts him, exhaling his name almost as if she’s got no energy left. He sucks in a breath and looks at her. Sees the hurt swimming in her eyes. “Forget it, okay? We’ve tried being friends but all we do is hurt one another.” She wraps her arms tight around herself, her eyes boring holes into her shoes. “I’ve got enough people in my life to hurt me. I don’t need another.”

She meets his eyes then and he couldn’t save this if he tried. He opens his mouth anyway - foolishly - but whatever he intended to say is drowned out by the class bell.

Her eyes flicker to his once more - pleading him to fight back? Maybe, but she’s pushed past him and out of sight before he can find the words.

...

She’s basically a ghost for the rest of the week, slipping through the halls in silence and keeping her eyes to the ground. She‘s forgotten how easy it was to go unnoticed in this school, and she both loves and hates how easily she slips back into it. Fleetingly she thinks that she hasn’t seen Otis once, even from the corner of her eye, and it’s not like she cares or anything - she hardly noticed, really, fuck off - but the clinic has been almost nonexistent and she’s got rent due Monday and this spat between them is really fucking with her source of income.

By Friday she’s said maybe ten words total to another human being (three of which being “Piss off, Isaac” when the wanker insisted on perching himself at her doorstep after she refused to answer his calls), but she found herself somewhat comforted by still having people around her. The fact is she hates the idea of going home to an empty trailer almost as much as she doesn’t want to be at school, so she sucks it up and makes plans to ask Aimee if they can walk home together. Thinks maybe she can spend the night there if she asks, too. God, she hates asking for things.

It’s not just Otis she’s avoiding. It’s everything. Her mom, her shitty fucking luck, the reality that of all the Quizheads, she’s least likely to get a full ride scholarship to Uni even though that’s the only way she can realistically afford to go. She knows she‘s destined for more than a shit job at the mall and a double wide with no heat, but she’s certain she was born in the wrong dimension, because in this one life is determined to fuck her over.

Her mind is a tangle of self-doubt but she’s trying her fucking damnedest to silence it all as she waits for Aimee by the school’s entrance, perched against a tree and attempting to focus on Silas Marner - she finds it far superior and the more relatable of George Eliot’s works, no wonder it took her so long to finish Middlemarch - but she’s been standing here for over an hour and Aimee is nowhere to be found. In fact, the front lawn is basically empty aside from a couple stoners and some horny couple grinding on a bench in the corner. She checks her phone, shoots a text to Aimee, waits five minutes for the three dots to pop up and when the message comes through, she feels her heart fall to her feet.

Steve wants to try hugging. Raincheck?

The sun is setting as she walks home alone, a crisp in the air that wasn’t there last week, and she’s trying to match her steps to her heartbeats but it’s proving harder than she’d like. Who says her breathing’s more ragged than usual? Sod off.

She wishes she hadn’t lent Erin her headphones - she’ll never see those again either - because she could really use something right now to drown out her racing thoughts. She focuses instead on the faded crescent moon rising in the sky, and by the time she walks onto the lot the sky is dark and the only thing she wants is to curl into a ball in her bed and not leave until Monday morning.

She sees the bag from far away, hanging from the door handle of her trailer. She looks left and right on impulse, wonders if it was Isaac before she feels certain it wasn’t. If her steps quicken, she’ll never admit to it.

She snags the bag quickly and slams the door behind her, fingers itching to find out what’s inside. Her hand wraps around a binder and she pulls it out slowly, suddenly nervous. A note flutters out with it and falls to her feet, and her jaw clenches as she recognizes the familiar scrawl.

You deserve better than all of us.

She stares at the message a moment more because she collapses into a seat at the table, binder spread out before her. She opens the first page and her throat tickles with the emotion of it all.

It’s a collection of paperwork, brochures and articles and informational pamphlets. Schools she mentioned, universities she’s named in passing conversations when she thought they were just killing time before his next session. He compiled them all by the areas of study she might be most interested, and she smirks despite herself that each school is color coded. He’d always busted her for organizing the clinic schedule like that. He’s even taken the time to highlight new places she hasn’t considered, places that offer creative writing programs and financial scholarships for independents.

She feels the smile on her lips but it’s like her brain catches up, stunned for a moment by the gesture, and she’s suddenly furious.

Who does he think he is? He doesn’t know what she needs, what she wants, what’s best for her. All he’s done since he came into her life was cause her pain, and now he’s trying to be some fucking savior for her? She snags a sweater strewn over the couch and is out the door before she even knows where she’s going. All she knows is that he doesn’t get to make some grand gesture and have her forgive him. It’s bullshit. She’s going to storm over there and tell him exactly where he can shove his fucking charity. He’s -

-standing in the middle of the bridge. Waiting for her.

Her breath catches in her throat and she absently notes that he looks terrified. There are so many things she wants to spit at him but for some reason she can’t find words just yet. He shocks her by speaking first.

“I didn’t want you to have to come all the way to me again,” he shrugs, the corner of his lip curling up just slightly.

She crosses her arms quickly, petulant as a child as she scoffs at him. But despite herself, she feels lighter standing before him. Damn it all to hell. “How’d you know I’d even come to you?” She’s trying for offhanded but knows she doesn’t manage it.

He scratches his ear and looks to his shoes. “I didn’t?” He has the decency to sound sheepish. “I figured I’d give it an hour or so and see if you called maybe.”

“Oh, only an hour then?” She deadpans. She gets way too much satisfaction from his rosy cheeks.

He cocks his head just so, offering her a half smile. “Maybe two,” he relents.

She feels her mouth pulling into a grin but she bites the inside of her cheek before it erupts. Instead she nods once and wrings her hands together by her chest. The silence sits between them and it’s colder out here than it was an hour ago.

“I’m sorry,” she hears him breath, and he must realize how quiet he said it because he clears his throat and meets her eyes. “I’m really sorry.” Louder this time, more conviction.

She can see the sincerity in his eyes and he always did know how to get to her. She nods this time, her mouth twisting in a wry smirk. “Yeah you should be,” she jokes, but it doesn’t feel much like a joke once it’s out of her mouth, and she feels the frustration seep back in. “You know, you can’t go around trying to manipulate me by doing something nice. Doesn’t work like that. You’re not charming, you know.”

Otis blinks. “Is that what you were coming to tell me?”

“What?”

“You were headed to my house, weren’t you? Was that what you were going to say?”

Her eyes widen, indignant, and the anger mounts. “Yes,” she demands. “You can’t just hurt me and expect it to all be okay just like that. It’s not. I trusted you, Otis, and you let me down. Everyone else is shit but I never thought you’d...” her voice catches and a small sob fills her chest but she won’t let it out. Refuses. Instead she stops, catching her breath and turning her head to the side as angry tears threaten to pour over. She digs a nail into her palm to stop them. She won’t let him do this to her again.

He takes a tentative step forward and reaches out for her slightly, and she finds great satisfaction when he retracts his hand, until she follows his gaze and realizes he must notice that she’s wearing his sweater. Shit.

It seems to embolden him though and he looks to her again. “I know, and Maeve, I know I hurt you and I was a dickhead -“

“Massive dickhead,” she elaborates.

“But I don’t think it’s all my fault.” He finishes.

She’s certain she heard him wrong.

“Excuse me?” She gapes, incredulous.

“We’ve been tiptoeing around each other for months,” Otis argues, arms up for emphasis. “All year, really. And then Jackson -

“Are you seriously turning this around on me?” She can’t believe him.

“No but -

“‘Cause it sounds like you are -“

“I’m not!” He insists. “It’s just that...you’re you! And I’m ME and, and we were friends. Such good friends, Maeve, and then you... And it just made me so angry that you didn’t tell me you liked me until things with Ola.... it’s just... I had no idea someone like you could have possibly liked someone like me.”

Her nostrils flare with her anger and she’s trying not to strangle him right this instant. She’s not sure if it’s because he doubted her or that he’s so fucking sure he’s right (and so what if he is a little?) “Right well it’s probably for the best you didn’t know. I’m the most selfish person you know, after all.”

He sighs loudly. “Maeve, of course I didn’t mean that.“

“It sounded like you did,” she quips.

“I was so drunk. I ate a whole roast chicken that night! And I was confused and I was trying to hurt you like I was hurting when of course you didn’t deserve it.”

He’s got her there.

She sniffles and crosses her arms, choosing to count the railings on the bridge rather than meet his eyes.

He sighs and reaches toward her, palms open. “I know I can’t take back what I did. And I know things are still broken between us. But... I like you, Maeve. I really, really like you.”

She looks up then, against her own will honestly, but he’s got his eyes closed. Either because he can’t look at her either or he’s mustering up the courage, she can’t be sure.

He rubs a hand over his face and chuckles ironically. “Hell I think I even love you. You’re brave and you’re resilient and you’re honest and you’re good. Life should have taken you out dozens of times already but you never let it. You’re too good for every fucking one of us and we just keep letting you down over and over. But I want to be there for you. I want to be the one you turn to. I don’t want you to feel alone or scared or hurt. And I hate that I’ve already done all those things but if you let me, if you give me a chance, I promise I won’t hurt you again. And I know, I know so many people have said that to you before, but I’m going to prove it. You don’t have to believe me, but let me prove it to you. Please. I -“

She’s not sure at what point in his speech her arms drop to her sides, when her brow smooths and her gaze softens and her lip drops just slightly. She feels the heat pool in her chest, warm and bubbling and even a little uncomfortable, blooming its way up her neck to her cheeks and face. And in her haze she really can’t remember when she steps forward and brings her mouth to his, soft but hard all at once, but she knows when she does that she’s never quite had a kiss like this in her life.

That is, because he doesn’t quite kiss her back.

Her lips are tingling but his body is like a statue before her, and she’s sure he’s unconscious but she can feel his heart thrumming beneath her hands atop his chest, and has she killed him? She pulls back slightly, exhaling a harsh breath, not daring to meet his eyes but seemingly incapable of putting more than an inch of distance between them. The barrier’s been broken now and she finds she’s never been warmer in her whole life. She’s about to say something, anything really, when his hands come up to cup her cheeks, coaxing her to look him in the eyes. Nerves grasp her now - it was so impulsive, she didn’t give it a second of thought before - but she has no time for them. She hears him swallow just as he pinches her chin and brings her mouth to his once more, and this is what their first kiss should have been. His lips are tender on hers and she wants to be closer to him all at once, so she wraps her arms around his waist and opens her mouth, feeling his breath on her tongue before his follows along. She was sure he’d be timid but it’s like his body is reacting all on its own, and she can’t help herself. Her lips curl into a smile against his mouth, and she nearly melts into a puddle when his thumb comes to the corner of her lip, the pad of his finger tracing the outline of her smile.

When they properly pull back for a breath, she can feel his eyes on her, blue crystals boring into her soul, and for the life of her she has no idea why she meets his gaze. She wants to look away but somehow she can’t, and he’s smiling at her and by God if she’s not absolutely fucking in love with this dickhead.

“You kissed me.” He tucks her hair behind her ear as he says it and she hates him even more. Her life will never be just hers again.

She licks her lips. “Tell anyone about this and I’ll bite your dick off. Okay mouth breather?” There isn’t the slightest trace of malice in her voice. It’s barely above a whisper.

Otis nods once, brow creased in mock seriousness. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I’m still angry at you,” she murmurs, eyes fixated on his bottom lip as she grips the ends of his shirt tighter.

He swallows hard and nods. “I know. I’m still angry with me too.”

She wants to keep the banter going but she’s got no fight in her, just butterflies wrecking havoc on her stomach and fire in her cheeks. She can’t stop staring at his lips - it’s like he’s cast a spell on her or something - and then she remembers she can do it again if she wants. This is going to be a real problem, she can tell. She’s on her tiptoes when he seems to remember the same thing, and he’s wearing the goofiest smile when he brings her face to his and leans down to kiss her again.

(It might take him a few hours to calm her down after he tells her about the missing voicemail - she could fucking murder Isaac - but he quickly finds exactly how to shut her up. If they don’t sleep that night, it’s entirely his fault.)

...

Note: this was shit but I wrote it in the notes on my phone because please let them be together next season PLEASE. It’s my first tumbler post too so sorry the format is weird as shit.

#fanfic #otis and maeve #sex education #otis x maeve #otis milburn #maeve wiley #emma mackey #sex ed s2 #sex ed netflix #asa butterfield

127 notes · View notes