#BUT IM JUST GONNA BE CHILL I AM NOT GONNA SHOOT ANY SHOTS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rebeccccccaaa · 4 years ago

Text

𝙊𝙣𝙡𝙮𝙁𝙖𝙣𝙨.𝙘𝙤𝙢/𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙍𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙎𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡

___________________________

sᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʀᴏɢᴇʀs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴘᴇᴛᴇʀ ᴘᴀʀᴋᴇʀ

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ: (ANON) a part two of OnlyFans where Steve takes them up on their offer would be 🥵🤤

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: Smut 18+minors dni, threesome! (my first time writing one im scared), also it’s uh… it’s a lot. it’s probably the filthiest thing i’ve written; so out of my comfort zone so go easy

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: i got a lot of people in my inbox asking about a part two but holy shite balls ive never written something like this omggg i can’t believe it aviajbgvi8gahahaha, anyways plz don’t let this flop i worked really hard to write this and imma cry if it does

____________________________

Steve sat on the bed nervously. He had no idea what came over him agreeing to this.

“Are you ok?” you asked him softly as Peter set the camera up.

“Yeah, just out of my element; very out of my element.”

“You can always say no; at any time. Even after we film and take pictures, you decide that you don’t want this out there we’ll delete it right away. I promise,” you reassured.

“Thank you, but I want this. I don’t trust anyone more than you two to do this with.”

Peter looked up from the camera and smiled at you both; he wasn’t gonna lie, he was really excited when Steve came up to them saying he wanted to be a part of this. He was expecting you and Steve to do something together but when he asked Peter to also be a part of it he was very ecstatic and aroused about it.

“Ok,” you cupped his face.

“Well the camera’s ready if you want to start slow, maybe some pictures first?” Peter suggested.

“Sure, you’re the experts,” Steve shrugged.

“Ok, Pete, what should we do first?” you turned to your boyfriend.

“Well, maybe we can shoot some of just you guys, and then just me and you, and after all three of us,” he said standing behind the camera.

“Sounds like a plan,” you went up quickly to Peter and kissed before turning back to Steve holding a mischievous gleam in your eyes and made him feel wanton.

You slowly walked closer to Steve, your hands reaching for the tie that held your silk robe together and unveiled the most sexiest lingerie set that Steve’s ever laid his eyes on. His eyes could help themselves staring directly at your nearly exposed chest. You noted his inner battle to not reach out and touch without permission and Peter chuckled from behind.

“You can touch her, Steve. She doesn’t mind, do you princess?”

“Not at all,” you whispered sensually.

Steve reached out and pulled you close to his body. He sported simply a pair of black boxers and a black leather choker with a silver ring in the center. You curled your finger over the silver ring and pulled him closer to your face. Peter saw this as a great shot and the shutter of the camera alerted Steve pulling him out that momentary spell you have on him.

“It’s ok,” you whispered against his lips.

Steve swallowed audibly shoving his nerves down before bringing his large hands up your thighs. You smiled beautifully and teased him barely brushing your lips against Steve’s. As Peter continued snapping pictures, he was embarrassed to admit that he was growing hard at the sight of you teasing Steve; biting his lip having to remind himself to keep snapping pictures.

Steve was slowly getting the hang of things and trailed his hand up your front to wrap harshly around your throat. You giggled at the feeling making direct contact with the lens putting on, which wasn't hard at all, your sexist face before all three of you bursted into giggles.

“Too much?” Steve chuckled.

“No, it was perfect,” you giggled.

You took some more pictures; you sat between Steve’s legs looking innocently into the camera and you could see the visible tremble in Peter’s legs. Another was you sitting with your back against Steve’s chest, his lips pressing faintly to your skin and his hands wrapping around your body closely both looking into the camera seductively.

“These are fucking hot, guys. People are gonna lose their shit,” Peter told you guys.

“How ‘bout one more,” you winked at Peter.

You crawled over Steve straddling his waist and pressing your hands against his pecs. He leaned back on his elbow, his expression taken back yet aroused and excited. Peter watched carefully, his finger resting on the button to snap the perfect shot. You rubbed your nose along Steve’s and you could feel his breath quicken.

You pressed your lips against his and lightly grinded down on his crotch feeling his large member poking your center. Steve fluttered his eyes closed as his lips moved against yours softly moaning. You pulled away to find his cheeks reddened and his eyes blown out with lust. You crawled off but Steve pulled you back in already addicted to your taste.

“Alright hands off, it’s my turn,” Peter walked up, making you giggle.

Peter practically pounced on you once Steve stumbled his way to the camera; waddling from his raging erection.

“You look so fucking sexy; I haven’t gotten to tell you,” Peter whispered in your ear.

“Thank you; you still ok with this?” you asked him.

“Of course I am,” he grinned.

“I figured, considering you’re hard as a rock under these,” you pressed his erection firmly with your hand making his groan lowly and shifting his hips.

He kissed you ravishly and Steve snapped the shots quickly. He shifted from side to side attempting to take his mind off of his painfully boner but the sight you and Peter practically devouring each other’s mouths was incredibly arousing.

Peter’s hand cupped your breasts squeezing the flesh softly pulling soft barely audible moans from you. Peter laid you down on the bed and kissed down your body softly looking sensually at the camera. You arched your back and pointed your toes for effect but that didn’t take away from how Peter’s lips felt so good against your burning skin.

“Hey Stevie,” Peter practically purred.

“Why don’t you start recording and come help me please our little princess,” Peter’s words made your skin break into chills.

Steve practically skipped to the bed after pressing record and you made little grabby hands to pull him into a kiss. He came over your head and pressed his lips against yours placing his hand on your breast while Peter’s resting on your other one. Your lips tasted so sweet and they felt so velvety Steve could spend eternity against your lips and not complain.

“Fucking hell, so pretty,” Steve whispered.

Peter’s one goddamn lucky kid, he thought.

He lifted you by your shoulders and sat behind you as Peter continued to kiss down your legs pulling your panties down your legs. Steve rubbed your arms softly before circling your waist and nuzzling his face in your neck.

As Steve pressed kisses to your neck Peter pressed kisses to your inner thighs and you could do was breathe heavily and indulge in the attention. Peter slowly licked from the bottom of your entrance grazing your clit with his tongue and you tossed your head back on Steve fluttering your eyes closed. Steve’s hand moved up to wrap firmly around your throat and nibbled on your ear.

“Look at him baby girl. I want you to look at him as he makes you fall apart,” Steve said, his voice laced with lust and domination making you whimper pathetically.

“You sound so fucking pretty for daddy, don’t you,” Steve spoke smoothly; you hadn’t thought of him much of a talker, let alone any other kinks and honestly it make your knees weak.

Peter on the other hand, was having way too much fun. He brought his fingers and circled them teasing you just a bit. You always made the prettiest whines when he did and he knew your viewers loved it too.

Painstakingly slow, he pumped his fingers in and out of you and sucked harshly on your clit making you squirm and wiggle under him. It took him a while but he realized your moans and cries sounded muffled and when he flashed his eyes open he saw Steve’s thick fingers in your mouth as you sucked on them lewdly.

Your eyes were still trained on Peter and he moaned against your core; the vibrations stimulating you more, tightening your muscles and tears brimming your eyes. Your toes curled and your legs squeezed Peter’s head but he didn’t stop his assault on your core. Your legs started shaking and you could hear Steve’s dark chuckled low in your ear. He took his fingers out from your mouth and you practically screamed from the overstimulation. You pushed Peter off you, tears falling down your cheeks. There was a prominent wet spot left on the silk red sheets and Peter’s chin and mouth were covered in your arousal.

“Come here, handsome,” Steve reached for the back of Peter’s neck and kissed him sloppily, tasting you on his lips; both moaning in arousal. You could feel Steve’s sizable erection poking your back firmly as you stared up to the boys who kissed beautifully. You felt yourself calm down a bit and Peter and Steve pulled away before Peter attached his lips to yours.

“Holy shit,” you said, making the boys chuckle breathlessly.

“You did good, baby. But I think you can do more yeah? You gonna be a good girl for daddy?”

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“Yes, what?” Peter said, pulling your bottom lip from your teeth with his thumb.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl.”

You leaned forward again pressing a brief and chaste kiss to your boyfriend. You rubbed your hands all over his chest and whined like a brat before you felt Steve’s hand strike your cheek suddenly. You and Peter never dove into the spanking territory so it caught both of you by surprise; a good surprise though.

“Hey Petey, you gonna let daddy fuck your little girlfriend? I’m dying to feel how good this pussy feels.”

“She’s perfect,” Peter said looking lovingly into your eyes. You smiled shyly at him and felt yourself grow bashful at the compliment. You peered behind you quickly shooting Steve a wink before you wiggled your ass. Steve chuckled, smacking your ass playfully making you gasp before giggling.

He pushed his boxers down and gripped his aching cock desperate for attention. You felt his tip brushing against your hole and you whimpered clenching around nothing. You scratched your nails over Peter’s abs, digging harshly when Steve pushed himself past your folds.

Although Peter was already big and you loved it so very much, Steve did feel substantially bigger; almost too much. You hissed, breathing sharply through gritted teeth and Steve rubbed his hands gently over your back. Peter also soothed you pressing soft kisses to your cheeks and whispering praises.

“You’re taking him so well baby.”

“Such a pretty girl, aren’t cha.”

“You look so fucking sexy, princess.”

“Fuck,” you cried.

You practically clawed at Peter’s boxers pulling his dick out. You wrapped your hand around it and pumped up and down his shaft pulling quiet grunts and sighs of pleasure. You leaned down finally wrapping your lips around the tip of Peter’s aching cock making toss his head back in pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re sucking my cock so good baby,” Peter rubbed your head softly.

You moaned softly around him resting your hands on his thighs. Steve continued his languid thrusts in you pulling soft moans from you that stimulated Peter even more bringing him closer to his release. Steve’s pace sped up little by little until his thrusts became sloppy and wild practically jostling you around like a rag doll.

“Holy shit, Pete. Your girl feels amazing.”

“She really does; my little angel,” your stomach fluttered at the compliments.

“She’s so warm, and wet. God, such a perfect little pussy,” Steve smacked your ass making you shudder under his touch and moaned around Peter’s dick.

Peter’s legs began to shake and not long after you felt the hot ribbons of cum spurting down your throat. You released his dick with a pop before pressing lights kisses to Peter’s tip and down his shaft to his hips. You look seductively at Peter who carried a blissed expression but your own expression didn’t last long.

Steve grabbed your hair harshly pulling you up flush against his front. Peter chased you, standing to his knees in front you pressing kisses and nipping at the skin along your collarbones. He snaked his hand down and swiftly circled your clit making you scream.

“Fuck!”

Sweat lined your forehead lightly and you breathed unbelievably heavily; whimpering pathetically in both their arms. Steve groaned lowly in your ear, chasing his orgasm as yours approached quickly too. He whispered obscene things in your that only you and Peter could hear, almost like he wanted that to be your little dirty secret.

Eventually, your body spasmed between two bodies and you damned near screamed in pleasure. Stars clouded your vision and your eyes rolled back from euphoria. Your back arched pressed your hardened nipples against Peter's chest.

“Come on, princess; one more,” Steve grumbled. He quickly tore his boxers off his body as did Peter hardly giving you time to recover from your shattering high.

“I can’t,” you whimpered.

“Yes, you can, pretty girl. I know you can. You’ve been doing such a good job for me and Stevie,” Peter soothed.

Your knees rested on either side of Steve thighs; your back against his chest as you faced Peter. Steve pumped his cock quickly circled it around your tight hole making you shiver with anticipation. Peter wedged his legs between yours and Steve somehow before lining his own dick with your folds.

You felt Steve’s hands resting on your hips and Peter’s on your waist right above Steve’s. They peppered skins and whispered praises to you waiting for you to give them some kind of signal that you were ready.

This was completely new territory to you and you didn’t really prepare much prior to now. You steady your breathing and relaxed against the bodies that pressed softly against you. You briefly nodded your head and Peter pushed himself into you knowing you could at least handle him like you have hundreds of times before.

This was of course very familiar to you. You and Peter had sex many, many times and you love the familiar feeling. His cock stretching you out just right, the pressure already building with how big he was. But when it was Steve’s turn, your body instinctively tensed.

“Relax, princess. I gotcha, I’m gonna make you feel so good,” Steve nibbled on your ear.

“I know,” you bit your lip.

Peter pressed his forehead against yours and whispered softly so only you and Steve could hear his voice.

“You can always tap out and we’ll edit the video, ok? Your comfort and pleasure is most important to us.”

“Yes, I’d hate myself if I were to hurt you,” Steve whispered too.

“Ok, I’m ok.”

Steve undid your bra that you still wore and Peter tossed to the side. Steve kissed between your shoulder blades cupping your breasts from behind; he played with your nipples, pinching and twisting your perked buds. He gathered the slick that oozed from you and his own precum circling your puckered hole. He slowly pushed in making you gasp and hiss sharply. Peter kissed you softly and as Steve slowly bottomed out.

The two boys stayed still as you adjusted to the extremely new feeling. Your stomach fluttered from nerves but also arousal. You eventually couldn't take the stillness and whimpered, begging for someone to move.

Steve and Peter moved in rhythm with one another and you moaned loudly feeling overwhelmed with pleasure. Your bit your lip harshly; probably enough to draw blood. You were beginning to feel tired at this point but the pleasure building in your stomach felt like none other.

“Feel so fucking good, princess. So tight,” Steve mumbled.

“Feels so good, daddy,” you moaned.

“Yeah? You like daddy’s cock fucking that tight hole?” Peter mocked.

“Yes! Ugh!” you cried out.

“How she feel, Steve?” Peter asked.

“Fucking perfect,” he breathed out. Steve leaned over your shoulder to press his lips briefly to Peter and you watched closely with pure adoration for the boys. That quickly subsided when Steve and Peter shifted your hips slightly hitting new angles making you moan loudly again.

You moved like a ragdoll becoming exhausted, whimpering and whining. Steve groaned loudly biting your shoulder and Peter crashed his lips against yours. Everything became sloppy and messy. The sound of skin slapping against each other echoed in the room. The pleasure was too distracting; all three of you forgot about the camera.

“Fucking shit, I’m gonna cum! Fuck!” you squeaked.

“Let go, baby girl. Cum all over Pete’s cock,” Steve practically growled in your ear.

Tears brimmed your eyes and you suddenly became hyper aware of everything at once. The feeling of fours hands rubbing everywhere all over your body just right. Both cocks stretch you perfectly drastically and you feel like you were being split in half. The delicious feeling of both their lips trailing your hot skin. It was all enough to push you, no throw you off the edge.

Your orgasm ripped through you and you shook between their bodies. The boys grunted and with closed eyes rutted their hips in you one last time simultaneously, coating your walls in their hot white cum.

You looked lazily into the camera before smiling tiredly and relaxing completely in the boys’ arms. They breathed against your skin heavily, desperately catching their breaths. You brushed your fingers through Peter’s hair, lightly scratching his scalp. Your other hand traced small shapes into Steve’s hips behind you, bringing goosebumps to his skin.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, Peter removed himself slowly from you and turned the camera off swiftly.

“I think that was a great shot,” he said, tiredly making you and Steve chuckle.

“Take care of our princess; I’m gonna get some things to clean up. And you, just rest. You did so amazing,” Peter kissed you before disappearing into the bathroom.

Steve’s hands ran over your skin softly before carefully lifting your tired body off of him. He moved extremely slowly, extra careful pulling himself out to not hurt you although you hissed from the soreness that was already apparent in your body.

He flipped you delicately so you rested on your back and he pressed soft kisses all over you making you giggle and squirm a bit under him. Peter came out and picked you up bridal style to carry to you to the bathroom where he ran a bath for you; something he always did after a recording. Steve was preparing to leave with a waddle in his step when Peter stopped him.

“Don’t leave before she gets out. Here, help me with the bed and putting things away.”

They quickly put their boxers on and Peter put the camera away, setting it on the desk for later. He ran to the closet as Steve removed the sheets placing them in the laundry basket by the closet. He helped Peter change the sheets to a light color that was a complete contrast to what was there before. It was definitely more fitting for you and Peter though.

You bathed yourself basking in the afterglow of the most amazing sex you’ve ever experienced. If you were being honest with yourself, you really hoped that Peter and Steve would be up to the idea of doing this again, even without a camera or for anyone. You’ve always thought of Steve as a very attractive and amazing person; someone that you and Peter often gushed over together.

You couldn’t bother to think about it anymore as the tiredness was becoming too much; unable to think much about anything but a comfy warm bed. You struggled to get yourself out from the tub wary that Peter would scold for doing so but whatever. You wrapped yourself in a warm robe that Peter left for you and walked slowly to the doorway watching Peter and Steve practically giggling like teenagers as they changed the sheets.

“I thought I told you you were supposed to wait for me to help you. What if you got hurt getting out? You could’ve slipped.”

“I’m sorry,” you pouted, walking over to Peter who just couldn’t be mad at you.

“You ready to sleep baby?” he asked you, and you nodded.

You undid your robe opting to stay nude tonight. You noticed Steve wasn’t joining you in bed and seemed like he felt out of place.

“You want to stay here tonight?”

“I don’t want disturb-”

“You’re not,” you interrupted, making grabby hands at him. He smiled softly before climbing in bed with you and you snuggled between both of your boys.

“Thank you, Stevie,” you pressed your lips to his before finally shutting your tired eyes.

Steve and Peter held you closely between them tracing patterns onto your silky skin. Steve kept his eyes trained to the ceiling and he could tell that Peter wasn’t asleep yet.

“So, when’s the video gonna come out?” he asked quietly.

“Well, usually we take the night to recover but after just now we might need a couple days,” Peter chuckled as did Steve.

“But then, we’ll edit the pictures all week and the video or videos. And after a couple weeks of promotion and letting people know about the upcoming release, we publish and let the money rack up. If you want we can give you fifty of the profit we make from this. It really means a lot that you did this for us,” Peter turned to look at Steve.

“It’s nothing. Was something I wanted to try being in this new century and all; you guys gave me the perfect opportunity and wouldn’t have trusted anyone else,” Steve said sincerely.

“You know, we wouldn’t say no if you wanted to keep doing this. Without the camera, you know?” Peter said shyly.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your guys’ relationship. Besides, I’m an old man. You guys don’t want that,” Steve chuckled.

“Nothing about what we just did says old man; you’re far from that. And like you said it's the new century, but if it’s not something you want we respect that.”

“And if it is?”

“Well, then we can talk tomorrow morning; I’m more than sure this one isn’t gonna mind not one bit. She never stops talking about you, granted neither do I but-”

“You two talk about me?” Steve smirked.

“Uh- maybe once or twice,” Peter stuttered, suddenly feeling shy.

“What do you two talk about?” Steve teased.

“Fuck off, man,” Peter defended making him chuckle.

“Goodnight, Peter,” Steve said, reaching over to intertwine his fingers with Peter’s.

“Goodnight, Steve.”

================================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison

@buckybarnes101

@l-sofiamia-l

@pluto-grl

@partr1dge

#steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #peter parker #peter parker smut #aged!up peter parker #peter parker x reader #steve rogers x reader x peter parker #marvel smut #marvel fics

312 notes · View notes

nakamoto-aesthetics · 4 years ago

Text

Eyes | n.yt

synopsis: you crashed into a boy who had the most compelling eyes. you didn’t know what was happening now but sooner or later you were going to find out the truth.

pairing: nakamoto yuta x fem reader

genre: soulmate/fantasy au

warning: mentions of blood, mind reading, hypnosis, invisibility, etc.

a/n: i don’t know what they are, i just put stuff together so this whole story is full of twists and turns so please just go with it. enjoy :))

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

ding you hear your phone. a message from ‘yuta🤍🖤’ lit up on your screen.

‘xxxx xxxxxxxx street’

‘omw’ you sent back and went to your car and put the address in your phone gps, heading to his house.

once you got there you got out the car and walked up to the door. you knocked on the door and turned to look at the neighborhood. it was your average street. nothing was off about it. you heard a door open and turned to meet eyes yuta. his eyes were still throwing you off did they hold so much power?

“come in” he moves to the side to welcome you. you smile and walk in. the house was a standard house there was nothing out of the ordinary. there were no family pictures there was only artworks and paintings on the wall.

he directed you to the living room.

“are you okay with making the poster on the floor? it would be easier then doing it on the table”

“yeah i’m fine with the floor”

he grabs the poster and writing/drawing utensils, laying them both on the floor. you stood by the entrance to living room awkwardly waiting for him to finish or welcome you over. as if on cue he looks over at you.

“are just gonna stand there and let me do all the work?” he smiles, you couldn’t help but smile back and walk over to him. you sit down and get to work.

throughout the time you guys were working yuta kept a conversation with you, wanting to know different things about you like where your from, your favorite ice cream, your style of music. basically everything about you. you asked him questions too wanting to know more about him. you wanted to become friends with the mysterious boy.

“wheres your bathroom?” you asked, you’d been holding it in for a little bit due to the interesting conversation but you could no longer hold off on it.

“if you make a right it will be the first door on your left”

“alright thanks” you stand up and follow his directions, opening the door and there was the bathroom. it was decorated beautifully. ‘was this whole house his?’ you were gonna have to ask him once you got back.

after you finished you walked out and closed the door behind you, turning your head tot the left you couldn’t help but notice a huge painting on the wall. you know you shouldn’t walk around someones house but you couldn’t help it. so you walked straight down the hall to another open room.

it was stunning everything about it, the colors, design and décor were all stunning. you walked around slowly taking everything in at once until you saw an opening to a small room. the room had red dancing along the walls from the red light bulb. it gave you chills.

there were pictures and lines connecting to other pictures along with sticky notes. you walked closer so then you were standing in the room. you wished you hadn’t gotten any closer because now you could see the photos clearly, they were photos of you.

he was following you, everywhere. the mall, the school, when your walking on the sidewalk, in your car, even while your in your house.

you were scared, the more you looked at the pictures the more you were terrified. you had to get out of here and fast. you turned on your heel and was met with dark eyes. you screamed and he immediately covered your mouth. you started to freak out and pulled at his hand. tears leaking out your eyes.

“i’m not gonna hurt you just stop screaming please” he said over your screams and you just obliged. you were gonna find a way out of here.

“let me explain before you try to run away alright?” you nodded, still cautious of him. he takes his hand off of your mouth and then sighs.

“i’ve been following you because you’re my soulmate” you snorted not believing him. that was a terrible lie all he had to say was that he was a stalker and the conversation would've been over.

“i’m not lying to you. your really my soulmate. would I be able to do this if I was lying?” he shuts his eyes and then opens them again. his eyes shift to an emerald green and then back his natural eyes.

“what the fuck?! what are you?” you look him up and down.

“allow me to properly introduce myself. hello im nakamoto yuta I have the power to hypnotize people and make myself invisible-“ and he does just that. you furrow your eyebrows and reach out to touch him but your hand goes right through. he then reappears in the spot you swiped your hand through.

“woah..” you widen your eyes. “that’s so cool”

“and I have the power to heal but I can only heal my soulmate”

“so do it. heal me” you say to him. if he was being serious about the whole soulmate thing you wanted to see some proof.

“well first I have to create a wound. follow me” he guides you to the kitchen and goes to the counter pulling out a small sharp knife and walking towards you.

“may i?” he hold out his hand and you cautiously place your hand in his. he holds it gently and creates a small slit in your hand, blood immediately pooling to the surface. you hiss at the feeling and bite your lip. his eyes shoot up to your face and then back down at your hand. he places the knife down on the counter and brings your hand to his mouth. you look at him curiously, you were confused to say the least.

he licks the blood carefully and kisses the spot gently. you gasp softly out of pain and pleasure and immediately the wound closed as if he’d never cut into your hand. you gasp softly and look at your hand in astonishment. how was that possible? we’re you dreaming? you pinched yourself hard and hiss nope not dreaming.

you look up at him blinking multiple times, just trying to wrap your head around what was happening.

he picked the knife up off the table and put it in the sink trying to give you some time to think about it. it was a lot to take in he knew that. he didn’t want you to reject him. he had spent years looking for you and here you were standing in his house, in the same room as him, breathing the same air. he was gonna find a way to keep you around.

“and you can’t do that with anybody else?” you asked, your brain was still fuzzy.

“nope i’ve tried it and it hasn’t worked” he turns around to face you.

“wow.. what else can you do?” you wanted to know more what he told you was starting to become more believable.

“nothing else really. I do have something for you though” he walks closer to you so that he was standing in close proximity. he gently grabbed your hand and pressed his palm against yours. you felt a shock on your hand just like before when you shook hands. you hiss and pull your hand away, holding it.

“what was that?” you ask.

“it was your magic” he looked into your eyes.

“I have magic?” you looked at him agape. “I feel like your playing with me” all of it was hard to believe but he was showing you the proof. it was hard to take in all at once.

“i’m not I swear. you were killed back in the 1500s so our master had me take your magic for safe keeping and with our combined magic i had an immortality spell made for us so then once I found you again i made sure i would never gonna lose you” he said with a serious face. you stared at him blankly and then busted out laughing. he furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“that’s a funny once now quit playing and tell me the truth” you pushed his shoulder playfully.

“I am telling you the truth. here look-“ he held his palm close to yours. “don’t pull away i'm gonna give you your magic back and restore your memories. it’s gonna hurt but try and stay still” he pressed his palm to yours and you immediately felt pain shoot through your hand, you bite your lip harshly trying to withstand the pain. the shocks reached throughout your body and you scream in pure agony as the memories start to flash in your head.

from the first sight of life all the way until you met yuta for the very first time. a memory of when yuta kissed you for the first time, to when you guys got married. there was a vivid memory of you guys laying in bed together whispering sweet nothings to when you guys made love for the first time.

and finally the end of your life when you got shot. yuta ran to your side and caught you, he laid you down on the ground and brushed the hair out of your face. he had tears in his eyes as he looked at your lifeless body. ‘withdraw her magic and keep it until you find her again’ a voice said and yuta did just that. “i’ll find someone who can make a spell for us. i will see you again, i promise” a tear rolled down his face as he kissed your forehead and with that your body disintegrated into the air.

you still had the same body but you looked slightly different, the way your hair was done and the way you dressed looked like you came from the 1500s. he still looked the same expect for the clothes and hair. you both were a modern version of the memories since it was the 2000s.

at last your screams stop, the shocks stopped and you dropped to your knees. that was the last memory and with that your mind went blank. you opened your eyes as tears fell down your face. yuta falls to the ground too.

“do you see that i’m not lying now? i’m immortal now and once i give you your magic back you will be too” he holds your face and wipes your tears. you nod without saying a word. you were speechless how could this be. ‘is this why he’s been following me around’

“yes, i’ve been following you everywhere because you’re the love of my life. I had to find a way to get closer to you without scaring you but I guess that failed because you're scared” he pulls his hands away and sighs standing up and walking away.

“you can read my mind?” he stops in his tracks and doesn’t move.

“yes I can and you can read mine”

“how can I do that?” you ask. you wanted to know how to use your powers at least.

he walk back to you and sits on the floor.

“just focus on me” he says and you do that but nothing happens.

“nothing”

“okay try looking at my forehead and just channel your emotions” so you try that, looking up at his forehead. you narrow your eyes.

“nope” you say and he sighs.

“okay.. don’t freak out but I wanna see if this works” he pulls you to him gently and shifts you onto his lap.

“yuta..”

“trust me” and you don’t say another word. “now look into my eyes like when we collided in the hallway” you gaze into his eyes and he does the same back. your eyes soften at his. you looked at him in a different light now. this guy was your soulmate and husband who loved you very much, at least that’s what you saw in the memories. you didn’t want to trust him but your heart was telling you something different. you started to lean in slowly without noticing it. ‘why did he have to be so attractive’ he smiles slightly, he leans in too. ‘shes so adorable’ you hear his thought.

“I heard that” you say hovering over his lips. he laughs loudly throwing his head back, pulling you out of your trance. you looked at him and smiled. ‘he was so beautiful, undoubtedly beautiful.’

“am i?” he asks and smirks. you immediately hit his chest.

“get out of my head” you squeal as he flips you on your back gently so he’s hovering above you.

“nope. your all mine again… that’s if your okay with that?” he looks up at you. you didn’t know how you felt about the whole thing. you were just gonna see what happens and let things take it’s toll.

“idk yet I still have a lot of things to process” you hold his face. it felt so familiar, he felt familiar and not like a stranger you weren’t afraid of him anymore. it was you knew him inside and out.

“kiss me” you whisper. you wanted to see what they felt like, if his lips were familiar too.

he froze in his place. “are you-“ “yes i’m sure now kiss me”

he leaned down looking at your lips and then moving his eyes to yours before looking down at your lips again. and there it was, his lips connected to yours. you felt a million shocks run through your body but they didn’t hurt. it felt so good. his lips felt like home.

he was kissing you so gently but you didn’t want to be gentle anymore so you switched it up by biting his lip. the red fluid pooled to the surface of his lip making him pull away, he touched his lip seeing the bright red color on his finger.

“so we’re biting now huh?” he asked playfully making you giggle, you bit your lip and shrugged.

“are you gonna fix it?” his face gets serious again.

“how do I fix it?” you gulp.

“just like how I fixed your wound. lick and kiss” he’s now straddling you.

you grip his waist as you lean closer and do as he says. he separates his lips, you turn your head and carefully lick the blood of his bottom lip. which oddly tasted good. you then seal it with a kiss. you pull back and watch it heal.

you smile widely, you thought it was so cool how you could just heal him like that.

“do you want to know what else you can do?” he smiles. you immediately nod.

you could get used to this.

#nakamoto yuta #nct doyoung #nct haechan #nct imagines #nct jaehyun #nct johnny #nct jungwoo #nct fluff #nct mark #nct scenarios #nct taeyong #nct taeil #nct 127

31 notes · View notes

shiftynightshade · 4 years ago

Text

[Chat: The Jedi Orders Problem Children: Has Been Opened!]

Thing 2: holy shit I forgot this thing existed

Trigger Happy: pff aah yes ye ol good days of tormenting adults

Thing 1: And ignoring our trauma! Quite the experience if I do say so myself.

Quinlan, Use Psychic Touch!: force obi u using grammer in a chat like that gives me a headache

Thing 1: And your lack of brain cells gives me a headache, but we don’t talk about that, do we Quinlan?

Quinlan, Use Psychic Touch!: i- WOW U DIDN’T HAVE TO COME FOR ME LIKE THAT OBES

Fuck Adults: wejdhjk theres nothing like waking up to obi wan just throwing shade like that

Sick of Your Shit: Well I mean… Quinaln was asking for it

Queen: Oh goodness, Garen why did you have to re open the Sith cursed chat?

Trigger Happy: :o

Best Raisin: The Queen has arrived!!

Thing 1: Hi Lumi, honestly should we even question what goes on in Garen’s head these days?

Queen: I guess not, much like Quinlan Garen sacrificed all of his braincells to you and Bant

Quinlan, Use psychic Touch!: what is this? Bullying garen and quinlan hours??

Queen: Of Course

Best Raisin: When isin’t it bullying quinlan and Garen hours?

Trigger Happy: should it be anthing else

Fuck Adults: obviously

Sick of You Shit: Yes

WHEAT: Yup

Acid Puddle: You two are the only ones in this chat without any braincells, so of course we’re gonna bully you

Thing 2: DID YOU TWO SERIOUSL COME ONLINE JUST TO ROAST ME AND QUIN?!?!?!

Wheat: Certainly

Quinlan, Use psychic Touch!: OBI YOUR BROTHERS ARE BULLIES

Thing 1: y’all hear something?

Trigger Happy: wow cant believe obi just murdered quinlan

Quinlan, Use psychic Touch!: quit tellin’ everyone im dead!

Fuck Adults: Its almost like you can still hear his voice

Quinlan, Use psychic Touch!: wow guess ill go and make out with fox now

Thing 1: You do that, Cody’s just pinged me and added all of our new shinies into the 212th chat.

Best Raisin: I’m surprised obi hasn’t adopted them all yet.

Sick of Your Shit: bold of you to assume he hasn’t already emotionally adopted them.

WHEAT: okay that’s fair

[Chat: 212th Comms: has Been Opened!]

[Feeling Glorious has added Firework, Spinner, Comet and Feather to the Chat! ]

Feeling Glorious: Welcome to the unofficial 212 comm lines shines, you’re one of us now. Ranks and regs don’t mean shit here so feel free to refer to us by or names.

Sunshine Brother: Welcome!

The Favourite: Hi!

Grumpy Brother: Oh force theres two of them

Feather: Thanks sirs, but who is who???

Feeling Glorious: Right. Roll Call! @Everyone State your name, pronouns and a fact about yourself.

Feeling Glorious: I’m Kote, or better known as Cody, I go by he/him pronouns and I have used a lightsaber before.

Spinner: :O Really!?

Sunshine Brother: YEAH It was awesome to watch! I’m Waxer, he/him and Boil and I accidentally adopted a young twi’lek girl named Numa as a little sister back on Ryloth

Grumpy Brother: Im Boil, he/him and I got my name because I spilt boiling water over my arm and hand when I was still a cadet n Kamino.

Barley: Barlex, he/they and I once sucker punched General Kenobi in the throat

Comet: !!!

Firework: HOW DI YOU NOT GET DE COMISSIONED!?

Barley: kenobi’s just pretty chill like that

Curlicue: Names Helix, he/him, medic and Ihave dragged our general to medbay more times than I can count

Comet: that’s kinda concerning

Shifter Of Gears: Gearshift, they/them, and I once hid in the actual engine of the Negotiator during a game of hide and seek

CRYStal Clear: Crys, he/him and I dyed my hair blond but it now looks like it’s a goldish yellow

Spinner: nice vod

OverShot: Longshot, he/him I shot the clanker bitch himself in the face

Snaptrap: Trapper he/him and I got my name from how quickly I could both make and detect traps compared the the rest of my batchmates.

Feeling Glorious: We love and appreciate you Trapper

Snaptrap: UvU

Grumpy Brother: don’t appreciate THAT THOUGH

I’m Like An Onion, I have Layers: Peel, they/them and I once peeled and ate an entire onion like an apple without a single reaction.

Snaptrap: it was terrifying

Grog: Gregor, he/him and I’m the 212ths main source of moonshine.

The Favourite: I’m Wooley! I go by he/him pronouns and the general’s teaching me how to knit and crochet!

Feather: holy fuck your precious

Comet: I guess we introduce ourselves now????

Comet: well, im Comet, I prefer she/her pronouns and I own a sniper with comet decals all over it

Feather: I’m Feather, he/they and I got my name from having and I quote ‘feather light steps’ during stealth training

Firework: Right, I’m Firework, she/they and I love to paint!

The Favourite: ! Another artist? YES

Spinner: hye im Spinner he/him and no matter how much I spin I cant get diy for some weird reason.

Feeling Glorious: right, Waxer, you know what to do!

Sunshine Brother: Yessir!

[User: Sunshine Brother: Has changed Feather’s name to: Dreamcatcher!:]

[User: Sunshine Brother: Has changed Comet’s name to: Knock-off Shooting Star!:]

[User: Sunshine Brother: Has changed Spinner’s name to: You Spin Me Right 'Round!:]

[User: Sunshine Brother: Has changed Firework’s name to :Bang Bang!:]

Feeling Glorious: Oh yeah, one more thing

Bang Bang: ?

The Favourite: @Stewed Ginger General!

You Spin Me Right ‘Round: the generals in the chat!?!?!?

Stewed Ginger: Indeed I am Spinner!

You Spin Me Right ‘Round: :HE USES OUR NAMES?!?!? @ Feeling Glorious:

Feeling Glorious: :Yup, he gets sad when we refer to ourselves as numbers:

Stewed Ginger: Right, well I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi, I go go by he/him pronouns and I know over five different languages :)

The Favourite: Hi General!

Snaptrap: Hi general!

Stewed Ginger: Hi boys!

Bang Bang: Uh General, what’s the meaning behind your user, if yo don’t mind me asking?

Stewed Ginger: I don’t mind at all Firework, but its not really creative. My user is just the beginning f my home planet Stewjon and my Hair colour.

Bang Bang: ah thank you sir!

Stewed Ginger: well how about we all meet in one of the rec rooms and get to know each other? I’m sure it will be beneficial for all of us!

Feeling Glorious: Meet you all in rec room 2 shinies!

[User :Feeling Glorious: has closed the chat for :0700: hours!]

#star wars #clone wars #xanatos #feemor #obi-wan

36 notes · View notes

radbutsafe · 4 years ago

Note

ALL FUCKIN 35 OF THEM SKLNWESDJFPXO

I SHOULDVE EXPECTED THIS FROM YOU

1. From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

A three! I think I’m mid range cause I ain’t terrible but there is still shit I gotta improve and grow in my writing

2. Why do you write fanfiction?

to manifest what canon won’t give me and to write more! (though yes it is mainly about the smooching and the— I’ll stop there LOL)

3. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

Hm! My weird research details? I’m that “fun fact, did you know...” in my fics sometimes LOL! I plan on giving a penthouse for erina in a fic and I went through penthouse listings in Japan for floor layouts and locations💀 my research gives me inspo and depth to stuff I think I lack in comparison to others sometimes.

4. Are there any writers that inspire you?

In terms of fellow fic writers, one of them I can’t name here but she’s an inspiration with her exceptional gift for prose period and her lovely skill at comedy! I want to be as funny as her when I write, I love her ironic situational humor. Other fic writers are @takoyakitenchou, @royaldragonsevgisi15 who I always love sharing ideas with and motivate me to create more! For non-fic writers it would be V.E. Schwab, Leigh Bardugo, Oda, and Horikoshi! The last two may be mangaka, however they are writers as well to create their stories! The depth these creators have given their worlds and interesting characters theyve given life to are all what I aspire to be like!

5. What’s the fic you’re most proud of?

so far uh?? hm everything I’m currently writing are wips lol!! im proud of my wip that has been nicknamed ‘soma panics’ that is a multi-chapter fic that spans like probs 20 plus chapters maybe

6. What element of writing do you find comes easily?

dialogue! it’s so much fun! and character thoughts. I’ve said to people I may be better suited for script writing

7. What element of writing do you struggle with most?

I think it’s description, of like setting and showing action. also an expansion of my vocabulary LOL

8. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write?

erina! I think it’s because canon has shown us many of her different faces and range of emotion.

9. Which character(s) do you find most difficult to write?

SOMA!! chill ass mofo whos more carefree compared to the common shonen protagonist! for other shokugeki characters I’m not sure just yet because I haven’t flexed my fingers enough for the rest of them.

10. What’s your favorite genre to write for?

I guess I should say romance cause that’s what I mostly write LOL!

11. Who or what do you find yourself writing about most?

sorina and I try to get them to smooch eventually KEK and yeah it’s..usually romantic fluff lmao

12. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about.

HONESTLY ALL OF THEM but “soma panics” is my brain child

13. First fandom you ever wrote for?

pretty sure it’s digimon....

14. What’s your favorite fandom to write for?

currently shokugeki no soma!!!!

15. What’s the weirdest fandom you’ve ever written for?

uhhhh I guess SNS? LMAO fandoms...all have their quirks to them.

16. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

characters cuddling!!!! or getting the urge to smooch!!!!

17. A trope you’ll never, ever write for.

unrequited love GOOD FUCKIN BYEEEEEE

18. Wildest fic you’ve ever written?

I have plot ideas thst can be wild potentially but so far nothing fits this criteria so far that I actually have written.

19. Do you prefer canon-compliant, AUs, or something in-between?

depends on the fandom, but if written well, all of it!

20. Gen fic or shippy stuff?

shippy 100% like I said I like smoochin

21. Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!)

romantic is...*drumroll* SORINA! platonic, soutaku and erina and alice!

22. Do you listen to anything while you write?

Sometimes! There are times songs will be on loop and times I just shuffle a playlist. and if I’m writing in random bursts it’ll be with no music but it really does depend lmao I think music is when I’m forcing myself to write?

23. Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas?

completely independent ideas, I’ve realized in the past prompts shoot me in the foot often unless I luckily figure something out. but I’m often driven by my own sporadic self interest with shitty ping ponging attention

24. One-shots or multi-chaptered works?

multi-chap I guess cause I can post without being finished LOLLL but tbh can I really answer? I haven’t finished anything.....

25. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!

I can’t answer this question imo because I haven’t finished a fic yet so technically stuff could all fit in the one fic?

26. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

MYSTERY AND CRIME! I love the genre and I have plot ideas once a blue moon but I can’t dive in because I want to make details that work and reduce plot holes where suspension of disbelief isn’t as needed. I need to study it more (I need to study all the details for any of my fics imo to be confident sometimes LOL)

27. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?

I don’t think I can say one comment was the nicest because I’ve gotten comments that have given me quite the smiles to my face many times! I know this is a cop out but it’s true!

IS WHAT I WAS GONNA SAY UNTIL REINA SENT ME THE FOLLOWING ON DISCORD LIKE TWENTY MINS AGO:

and also rad. i am never this vocal about my emotions like EVER but this needs to be said your fics are obviously far from perfect, as are mine and everyone else's. but the thing about your works is that they're so well-sanded that it's impossible to find any rough edges or faults in them in terms of cohesion to a plot. your cast is never OOC and the amount of effort you devote to developing your takes on the characters as accurately as possible is unimaginably awe-inspiring.

BITCH I WANNA CRY 😭

28. How well do you handle criticism when it comes to your writing?

I’d like to believe I take it often well to try and improve because that’s always my goal. if someone is rude lol that’s not constructive snd is unhelpful. If I disagree with criticism I’ll explain why !

29. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out?

Not yet, but I have some plot ideas I think will let me test this.

30. Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst?

F L U F F.

31. Do you have any OCs? Tell us about them!

elliott fuji, a japanese-american award winning photographer who is erina’s boyfriend in ‘soma panics’ which..causes soma’s panic LOL he’s 30 with slightly wavy black hair. I still haven’t pinpointed his personality just yet...he kind of humble brags for sure an artsy fucker and flirts maybe I’ll make him a lil shy though. he teaches sometimes, and becomes an adjunct photography professor in Tokyo so he can be with erina.

32. Summarize a random fic of yours in 10 words or less.

a cook is unfashionably late in realizing his feelings.

33. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

I am a slow. so slow. motivation who is she? I also write out of order, unfortunately a bit too often.

34. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

this should be for the fic ‘soma panics’ it’s either megumi or satoshi talkin to him rn, I’m leaning towards satoshi

“You thought she would always wait for you, didn’t you Soma-kun? To always welcome you home.”

Soma drags his palms down his face and groans. He doesn’t like this at all. He doesn’t shy from confrontation but this is a whole different ballgame. Soma doesn’t play any ball.

“I guess..?” Is his reply, because he thinks he isn’t sure how to answer that.

“You guess?”

Just being questioned again is enough to crack Soma’s pathetic facade as if it was dropped chinaware and he lets out the longest sigh.

“No.”

Coming home means coming home to Nakiri Erina too.

Nakiri Erina is his forever.

this is @takoyakitenchou’s excerpt she’s most proud of that I’ve written, which is also from you guessed it, the long fic soma panics

SOMA: I am, I mean I will be, I swear I will always come home to you, not spend as much time abroad, once I’m done with work I’ll come right back. I’ll make sure to message you. Nakiri, I’m in love you with you. Maybe for a really long time. You know how I say I dedicate my food to you? My dad—my dad said that the key to become a good chef is to find someone to dedicate your cooking to. A special someone. For my dad it was my mom, you know? For me it’s...

(this is a good piece of dialogue tbh so I am also proud of this)

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

I’ve mentioned it throughout this but the WIP I’ve nicknamed ‘soma panics’ is something I’m super excited to write, but it’s going on slowly...and almost completely out of order. out of all of my writing it showed off that particular habit of mine, along with “what is this, a shoujo manga?!” though the latter is currently being written chronologically now that I’ve posted chapter one and is pretty solid in direction. it was originally supposed to be a one shot but I got impatient and wanted to post at least something for the sorina / soueri fandom.

however, because ‘soma panics’ (I won’t call it that LOL) is my baby I want to keep true to my rule of refusing to post it until I have a draft of the entire fic finished and I’m satisfied with the main points pretty much. due to my writing out of order, I’m worried I’ll change my mind about scenes or want to reflect things in earlier chapters for later ones etc etc

I joined the SnS fandom extremely late, as season five was airing. I was a fan of the manga five years ago and dropped it because I forgot to check for updates when I caught up 😔 I really want to bang out the different fics and aus for sorina that I have before the fandom fizzles out entirely but tbh I’m writing for myself, I’m manifesting what I want to see and I’ll just share it with all my friends to read if no one else will. cause I’m slow broski I dunno what writing fast even is like LMAO I do really want to write faster though, so I can contribute more and let the words free from the discord dms....

#ask meme #ask rad shit #writing #writing by rad #fanfic #reina girl u put me thru it I swear lol #thank u for sending!!#ur amazing!!!!

14 notes · View notes

ughitsnic · 4 years ago

Text

Do You Believe in Fate?

Tom Holland x Reader, Harrison x Reader

Smut towards the end, not alot but its there i guess

Chapter 2:

Saturday night didn't come quick enough and even despite your nerves you were excited to finally, hopefully, get laid or at least let loose and have some fun. You couldn't even remember the last time you went out, it had got to have been months at least because the last time you did, you were still with your ex.

You sat quietly on the bus into town, Pete had introduced you to all of his friends. There were alot and you couldn't even remember half of their names. One name that did stick with you was Harrison, mainly because he was the most friendly of the group and made you feel welcome. He was sitting next to you.

“How come you haven't come out with us before?” Harrison asks looking at you.

You shrug. “Uni work? i've finished for summer now though so you might see more of me” you explain, smiling at him. God he was cute.

Hours could have passed, or maybe minutes all you knew was that you were way too drunk in a random club, the rest of the group nowhere to be seen as you and Harrison sat chatting, maybe flirting at the bar. You weren't too sure, he could just be being nice, you think to yourself. You take a long sip of your gin.

“Next week Claire is having a house party, you should come” he tells you, shouting over the music. You rack your brian trying to figure out who Claire was, whether she was the tall pink haired girl or the shorter brunette.

“Should i?”

“Yes, I’d love to see more of you” you look at him confused. “Cmon, i love this song” he pulls you up off of the stool and into the crowded dance floor. If you were being honest you didn't recognise the song, and it wasn't that good but you danced along with him regardless, your drink in your hand spilling as your bodies moved together.

“Hey this club is dead, let's go” Pete shouts, resting his hand on your arm. You finish your drink and follow him out, Harrison close behind you. You had never been into the new club, it was packed full of sweaty bodies, that you had to squeeze past to get to the bar.

“I'll pay for this round” Harrison says into your ear. “Shots?” you couldn't say no. The more you drank, the more you leaned into his touch.

“Don't be shy” the alcohol was now definitely doing all the talking, a smirk appeared on his face as you place his large hands on your waist trailing them down to your hips and pulling you closer. Your bodies now pressed together, his hands falling to your ass, giving it a little squeeze, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. A giggle leaves your lips.

“When Pete spoke about you, he failed to mention just how beautiful you are y/n” Harrison whispers in your ear, you feel your cheeks burn once again. He quickly moves his hand so it's resting on your cheek, your heart pounds waiting for him to make a movie.

“Can i kiss you?”

“Uh… y-yes” He quickly presses his lips on yours, chills running down your spine. The kiss wasn't innocent by any means, it was hungry and full of lust. Your fingers dangle their way through his hair tugging as you open your mouth further to invite his tongue in.

“Maybe we should get out of here” you suggest, breathless and he simply nods. Neither of you bothered saying goodbye to anyone as you left. The taxi ride was short but despite this you couldn't keep your hands off of each other. He struggles with the lock as his lips continue to attack your neck, no doubt leaving marks. You both kick off your shoes, discarding your clothes throughout the flat as you stumble into what must have been his room onto his bed only in your underwear, he pushes you back on the bed and kneels down leaving wet kisses on your inner thigh.

“Stop teasing harrison” you whine. “Fuck me please” you didnt care how pathetic you sounded, you needed him now. he stands back up and you watch him step out of his boxers, you gasp at the size of him as he runs his hand up and down his length.

“I don't think you can take this baby girl” he was smug as he ran his tip along your folds.

“Please” you moan reaching for him.

“So wet for me”

“Just for you” as the words left your mind, your thoughts immediately rushed back to Tom. It was wrong, imagining it was him pounding into you, fucking you like you hadn't ever been before.

"Oh fuck To- there Harrison right there" you struggle closing your eyes, images of the brown haired boy filling your mind as you feel your orgasm wash over you.

You both lay next to each other breathless.

"Was that as good for you?" Harrison questions. You leave a single kiss on his shoulder.

"The best" you answer honestly. "But" you drag out. "I should get going" The guilt was already setting in.

"Please stay, it's late and i'm a cuddler"

"Lucky for you, i am too" you smile rolling back over and he pulls you closer, your head resting on his chest, closing your eyes, what are you doing y/n?

Finally got around to editing. ive been so busy at work the past week maybe 2. so glad i only have 2 shifts this week which means i have alot more time to write and edit it. requests are open. also if you wanna be tagged on this story you can dm me or shoot me an ask. im gonna try and actually update regularly so yep i think thats pretty much it. ive been listening to harry styles alot more than usual and i might do some imagines based on a few of his songs i dont know lol

///

@sunflxwer99

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield smut

20 notes · View notes

adrenalinekicked-archive · 4 years ago

Text

rules + about

MOD + MAIN POINTS:

what’s poppin! i’m daze, i’m nineteen, i use they/them pronouns, i haven’t run an rp blog in a while but we’re gonna give this a shot! first off, i don’t interact with minors in any capacity, and this blog is going to very likely be nsfw and handle some pretty grotesque themes, so i’m strictly 18+.

speaking of grotesque themes, i tag all the obvious things that need to be tagged (18+ shit will b under ‘not sfw’) but really everything is pretty much fair game here, so tread lightly if you’re likely to be triggered by hard stuff.

i am anime only, i am not caught up with the manga in any capacity, i know, i’m sorry, my neuro is really divergent and i can’t seem to be able to force myself to read the manga i’ve tried everything. i dont really care about spoilers at this point so knock urself out i guess.

i’m pretty chill but i’m really not that great at talking to people, one might say i’m pretty goddamn terrible at it, so just bear that in mind. i do like ooc conversations and i encourage them but please go easy on me.

RELATIONSHIPS:

i enjoy normal/fluffy/vanilla shipping (and writing normal stuff that isn’t shippy!) and i’m not opposed to going down routes like that if that’s what you’re into, but the stuff i’m more drawn to is all in the vein of like, abysmally unhealthy relationships. noncon, grooming, abuse, ect ect ect. they’re fun and my izuku is quite prone to them. so by all means, please abuse him. if you wanna go for something specific feel free to shoot me a dm and we can flesh it out!

on the other hand, i really enjoy healthy relationship dynamics that touch on trauma and things of that nature, so don’t feel like if you interact with me your character has to be abusive. it’s just that i really like writing super messy stuff, but who knows where the wind will take us.

(QUICKLY: my favorite good/sweet/normal dynamics for izu are: his mom, his friends [specifically: katsuki, ochako, tenya, shouto, hitoshi, ect.], all might, aizawa, eri…

my favorite fucked up dynamics for izu: aizawa, all might, TOMURA (please), literally any of his teachers, toga, literally any of the villains, and literally anyone who he has a good amount of trust for just ready to be broken. Please Abuse My Muse Im On My Knees.

RP FORMAT:

i prefer para rp but anything you’re comfy with is fine by me! i love askbox memes theyre such good ways to organically start something. also feel free to send questions just for him to ic answer, i like answering those.

MOD KNOWLEDGE:

i am super insecure abt my bnha knowledge lmao, again i am anime only. please be gentle i am literally just here for fun and scraps of social interaction bc i get none on the daily.

…but i am optimistic in general. if that all sounds good to you by all means let’s go!

#rules #about #mobile users

2 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 3 (Branjie) (and background everyone else) - Ortega

a/n: hey fam!! we are over halfway through the rewrite so hopefully soon i can get a brand brand new chapter out to u soon, in the meantime enjoy chapter 3 all over again and see if u can spot the differences lmao?? idk but i hope u enjoy anyway!!

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

28th September 2020

Vanessa has never been more excited in her life as she paces the rehearsal room, checks herself out for what is surely the millionth time in the mirrors and pulls a few strands of her dark hair out of her ponytail to frame her face. There’s a cameraman and a lighting person and a random producer set up in one corner too but Vanessa hardly acknowledges them, because it’s her first rehearsal with Brooke and in a moment she’s going to walk through those doors and they’ll get to start their journey together.

Saturday night had been a blur. They’d been rushed off to film their post-show reaction interview and Vanessa hardly remembers what she’d said. She supposes it couldn’t have been more incoherent than her immediate reaction. Or perhaps it had been. They’d swapped numbers excitedly, Vanessa’s heart dipping a little as Brooke insisted she couldn’t join for post-show drinks as she had to film early the next morning. With a pang of embarrassment, Vanessa remembers the text she’d sent to Brooke in the early hours of the morning as a result of Monique and Akeria’s shocking influence and way too much tequila:

V: iknow its 1am but im still so excited to be partnered wirg u and i cant wait for first rehearsal!!!!!!! x

It’s a miracle Brooke had still been up so her reply could come instantly and Vanessa didn’t have to wake up smelling of alcohol, kebab and regret the next day.

B: I’m excited too!! Have a good night, can’t wait for Monday x

It’s not like Vanessa has a crush- she’s just excited, as she keeps reminding herself, and Brooke is her first partner. It’s natural to look forward to seeing her as much as she is.

Vanessa inspects her reflection again, frowning and pulling out two more strands of hair from her ponytail to hang loose. She gives a cry of frustration as she realises she’s ruined it by pulling out way too much, so she bends over and hangs her head down between her knees to gather her hair up again.

She’s in this position when the door opens and she hears Brooke’s voice ringing into the echoey room.

“Good morning! Oh shit, am I interrupting something?“

Embarrassed, Vanessa flips her hair back and stands up straight, walking quickly over to Brooke as she dumps her gym bag at the door. “No, fuck, sorry, I was just fixing my hair! Hey!”

Brooke has her arms out ready to hug Vanessa and she accepts gladly. She smells all clean and of fabric softener. She probably uses in-wash scent boosters like an adult who has complete control of her life and more money than sense. They pull out of the hug and Vanessa fixes Brooke with a smile.

“So!” Vanessa starts, but there’s a noise from the other side of the room. One of the producers has stepped forward.

“Uh yeah, ladies, we can’t use that intro. We’re gonna have to film again.”

“How come?” Vanessa asked, realising too late that it’s because she was bent over with her hair hanging to the ground and that Brooke swore. The girls share a guilty laugh and Brooke retreats to the door. The good news is that they get to hug for a second time when they reshoot, and Vanessa gets another scent of Brooke’s detergent and the protected feeling of having the other girl’s strong arms around her.

“So, first rehearsal!” Vanessa chats cheerfully, leaning on the barre and tilting her head as she talks to Brooke. “How we feelin’?”

“Good! Excited. Ready. Positive adjectives,” Brooke says all at once, smiling at her. “How about you?”

“I’m happy. Kinda nervous, ‘cuz now I have to live up to your expectations.”

“And they are great expectations.”

Vanessa nods. “George Orwell style.”

Brooke pauses, fixing Vanessa with a funny look, then bursts out laughing. “Even Charles Dickens?”

Vanessa laughs, shrugging. “They both wrote books, I stay winning.”

She watches as Brooke doubles over clutching her stomach in hysteria, and feels a sense of pride at having made the girl laugh so much. Remembering the film crew in the corner, she smacks her hands together. “Right! For our first dance as a Strictly partnership, we are doin’ a…quickstep!”

Brooke raises her eyebrows and nods slowly. “Ballroom first, okay! I can do that. I guess I’m surprised we’re not doing Latin.”

Vanessa shrugs. “Ballroom ain’t my strong suit so I figured it’s better to get it out the way early while we got other, shittier girls we can hide behind.”

There’s a beat of silence as the two girls look at each other. They both speak at the same time. “…Farrah.”

“Reshoot!” the producer shouts over, Vanessa feeling herself roll her eyes like a teenager. Brooke snorts a laugh and Vanessa feels that little match spark up in her gut again. They reshoot, having the same conversation as before in so many words. It’s tricky remembering not to swear- Vanessa peppers fuck and shit into her daily language like she’s seasoning it, so it’s odd attempting to remove that from her vocabulary. She should probably be trying to give Brooke the impression of a mysterious and graceful woman who says gosh and darn but if she’s going to be working with her she’s going to be working with her, not a cookie-cutter picture perfect imitation.

“You wanna warm up?” Vanessa asks her, feeling a little bashful as Brooke rolls her neck slowly. She gives a small shake of her head as a long strip of her bare neck is exposed, her blonde ponytail falling over her shoulder. Vanessa feels like shaking her head herself, shaking all the thoughts that just entered her head out of it. Get a grip.

“Nah, I already did a bit before I came. We’ve got a gym at the flat, so it’s good for that kind of thing.”

Vanessa feels her eyebrows fly up her face. What kind of fancy-ass flat does she live in? “You wanna just do a bit of conditioning then? I saw you were good at it on the induction day, so you prolly don’t need to do much-”

“You had your eyes on me on induction day then?” Brooke interrupts, gives Vanessa a cheeky wink that makes her face hot. She thinks about making a jibe related to Brooke eyeing her up during squats, but she thinks it’s maybe a bit much. This is only the third time they’ve seen each other, after all. She doesn’t know why she’s acting like such a teenager.

“You wish, princess,” she sticks her tongue out. Brooke laughs and Vanessa joins her, trying not to think too much about where that princess appeared from out of nowhere.

Brooke shrugs in agreement and they do a bit of conditioning on the mats that are kept at the studio. They don’t really need to be doing too much- it’s a quickstep, it’s not exactly Cirque du Soleil- but Vanessa enjoys giving her muscles a proper stretch anyway. She doesn’t need to be the bendiest dancer in the world but she likes to feel as if her flexibility and strength are constantly improving. The film crew stay to catch some rehearsal shots but Vanessa feels as if it’s only her and Brooke in the room, their easy small-talk coming naturally as they stretch and chat over the chill R&B Vanessa’s stuck on in the background. Brooke’s been working that morning already, shooting for The Voice. They’ve moved filming to the morning so she can participate in the show. Vanessa says she hopes it’s not inconvenienced her too much and Brooke laughs and waves her apology away, saying it’s been her dream to get asked on the show ever since she rose to TV-presenter status.

Vanessa agrees, tells her about growing up watching the show with her Mom, how it inspired her when she began to compete all those years ago. She could get into other stuff, like the Summer when they couldn’t fly back to Puerto Rico because Vanessa had begged and pleaded with her Mom to spend the flight money on another term at dance school instead and it had caused a rift so huge it almost tore a hole in her family. But she doesn’t. As Vanessa reminds herself, it’s only their third meeting.

So why does she have to fight the compulsion to tell Brooke her damn life story?

Before Vanessa can blurt out any emotional moments from her upbringing (and she doesn’t exactly have a shortage of them), she slaps her thighs, stands up and rolls the mat away.

“Okay, let’s get started. Now obviously you’re good-”

“Oh, of course,” Brooke jokes. Vanessa’s heart gives a dip.

“- so I think we can maybe just start learning the full thing? If it’s too hard then we can just do some of the basics and go over lil’ techniques an’…stuff,” Vanessa clocks the cameras, changes the “shit” she was about to let out. “But the good news is we got two weeks to learn this one instead of one.”

“So there’s no excuse for it not to be perfect,” Brooke nods immediately. Vanessa freezes, taken aback. Brooke in turn looks almost as if she’s been caught out, and her face turns a little red. “Sorry. That probably seems way too keen, it’s just a fun dancing show-”

“Nah, keep that spirit. I’m a fan of that,” Vanessa smiles at her and Brooke, reassured, smiles back. The girl’s clearly a perfectionist. Vanessa adds that to her growing list of things she’s learning about her new partner. “Aight, I’m gonna show you how it’s gonna look. Lemme get my phone.”

Vanessa dashes over to her gym bag, scrambles about in it for a moment. She spent all of Sunday and stayed up all night finishing off the choreography with Crystal, who she’d also helped choreograph her first dance too, not that Crystal needed any help choreographing Latin. Or indeed ballroom. Or indeed any dance full stop. They’d brainstormed and drank gallons of water and chatted together excitedly the whole time. Being on the show with Crystal is nice because they practise their Spanish together so Vanessa doesn’t lose too much of it, and she understands what it’s like to be away from her huge extended family on days like Cinco di Mayo when the only real celebration of that in the UK is a display of Mexican party food in Tesco, and they moan together about the fact that neither of them have seen a single plantain on sale since arriving in the country. Finally finding her phone in her gym bag, Vanessa searches for the video she and Crystal took of the quickstep once it was all finished. Finding it, she plops down next to Brooke who’s sitting on the dusty floor and leaning against the mirrored wall. She hits play, holds her breath nervously and hopes Brooke will like what she’s come up with. Vanessa is relieved when a small smile grows on Brooke’s face.

“Are we actually doing it to Pon De Replay?”

“Damn right we are!” Vanessa replies proudly. She got her song request in early and the producers approved it on Sunday morning. She knows that she’s not as good at ballroom but she likes the fact that she can use songs she likes and twist the style to fit, making it more comfortable for her. The dance she’s created is clever, even if she does think so herself. First week is all about showcasing your celebrity and what they do, what kind of person they are, so Vanessa wants to give Brooke a challenge. The first half is a straightforward quickstep and the second is the same but everything mirrored and in reverse. There’s a silly bit at the start where Brooke’s going to pretend to be interviewing Vanessa to reflect her everyday career. It’s cheesy, but that’s Strictly.

The video comes to an end and Brooke is smiling from ear to ear. “Oh my God. I love it.”

“Ah! Amazing. I’m so glad,” Vanessa beams, happy and relieved all at once.

“I mean, it looks hard. But I didn’t think any of this would be easy.”

“It’ll get easier, though! Just needs practise. And remember, we’ve got two weeks!” Vanessa reminds her, standing up and shaking herself out. “So we’ve got ages. I mean. In between all the press and social media madness, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Brooke laughs, pushing herself up from the floor. “Right, come on then, teacher. What do we start with?”

Vanessa begins showing Brooke the routine, the complex and intricate little steps and hops of the quickstep taking Brooke a little bit of getting used to. But by lunchtime, they’ve gone through a little chunk of the dance already and they’ve run it without and with the music. Vanessa’s pleased with their progress and when they stop for their lunch break they’re both exhausted, sweaty, and smiling.

“You good?” Vanessa asks Brooke, who’s taking a long swig of her drink. Her eyes widen as she nods quickly.

“Yeah! Christ, it’s so tough. You’re a good teacher, though,” Brooke says, finally finishing her water. The praise makes Vanessa blush; she’s glad she’s already red from all the dancing so it doesn’t show as much.

“You’re doin’ great. Makin’ my job easy,” Vanessa smiles at her. She bites her lip before speaking again. “Hey, you wanna come have lunch with me?”

Brooke pulls a face and pouts. “Aw, that sounds amazing but I’ve got a meeting with my agent at quarter past. To make sure you’re not committing human rights violations against me or whatever.”

Vanessa snorts a laugh, tries not to look disappointed. They promise to meet back at the studio in half an hour, and Vanessa heads to the canteen where she knows some of the other girls will be having lunch too. The studios that a bunch of them have had the foresight to block-book are great and modern, and Vanessa feels bad for girls like Jan who’s having to rehearse in a draughty church hall near Jackie’s sleepy Hounslow suburb. Pushing open the double doors, she finds Phi Phi, Jaida, Monique, Crystal and Plastique already sitting at a table and eating lunch. Vanessa dashes over.

“Beep beep, hoes! Winner coming through,” she shouts over to them cheerfully, Monique laughing and rolling her eyes long-sufferingly as Jaida shakes her head at her.

“Take several seats, bitch.”

“One’s fine, thanks,” Vanessa flutters her lashes at her, causing the other girl to laugh.

“How did you even get in through the door with your head this big?” Monique scoffs, as Vanessa chucks her bag down and rakes through it for her lunch.

“Hey, you’d be crowin’ as well if you saw what my girl can do,” she points out, ignoring the way Monique’s eyebrows fly up her face at the my girl.

“It’s not about who’s got the best dancer from the start, it’s all about the potential,” Plastique shrugs at her. Vanessa gives a laugh.

“Aw, Scarlet’s got loads of that, right?” she jibes, the other girls laughing. Plastique rolls her eyes.

“We spent half an hour on a step-ball-change. Every object in the room slowly started to merge into implements with which I could kill both her and myself,” Plastique put her head in her hands. She’d ended up being partnered with the soap star and Monique, to her badly-suppressed delight, had been given singer Monet.

“At least she’s trying to work hard,” Phi Phi sighed, her face taking on a sour expression. “Willam is killing me. She keeps doing shit wrong and if I point it out she just makes a joke about it. And she keeps dashing next door to show shit to Courtney! What the hell is up with that? Courtney’s got Blair to worry about, she doesn’t need a damn goofball interrupting her rehearsal every two minutes to add to that.”

“Where is Courtney, anyway?” Vanessa asked, taking a big bite out of her chicken and rice. She knows Courtney shares their studios too and she’s notable by her absence.

Phi Phi pulls a face in response. “Let’s just say her and Blair have a lot of work to do.”

“Well, I can’t relate,” Monique smiles smugly. “Me an’ Monet have been doing amazing.”

“So’ve me and Gigi! She’s awesome,” Crystal pipes up excitedly. Vanessa swears she can see her pupils turn into little hearts as she speaks. “She’s so hardworking. We’ve done, like, half our dance already.”

“No you haven’t, stop lying,” Phi Phi nudges her under the table with her foot. Crystal rolls her eyes, resigned.

“Okay, not half, but maybe like a quarter. An eighth? A twelfth.”

The girls explode laughing and Vanessa actually has to wipe tears from her eyes. When she calms down, she asks Jaida how her rehearsals with Yvie are going so far.

“Alright, I guess. The girl’s really great, she’s got so much talent. But the bitch won’t stop filmin’ shit for her fuckin’ vlogs! I’d leap out the damn window but our room’s on the ground floor.”

Another roar flies up from the girls. It’s always funny to see how they all gel with their dance partners, and Vanessa has never got to experience it for herself until this year. She’s so happy she’s been paired with Brooke.

After the girls finish their lunch, Vanessa and Brooke continue to rehearse. The days pass like that easily with hours spent in hold, out of hold, stepping, hopping, watching Brooke tear her hands through her messy ponytail in frustration when she can’t immediately nail a particular move. Vanessa learns that Brooke’s hard on herself and, though she never snaps or yells, Vanessa knows it annoys her having to really properly work at the tricky bits. Truth be told, Vanessa gets annoyed at herself too. She curses herself whenever Brooke struggles with something, becomes convinced she should have made the dance a little easier for her. If Brooke doesn’t pick something up quickly Vanessa is irritated at her own teaching methods. She knows Brooke wants to be the best no matter how much she plays the competition off as simply a bit of fun, and she gets annoyed when it seems like she’s not doing enough to help her achieve that.

On the whole, though, Vanessa tries not to beat herself up too much. They do seem to be making really good progress in comparison to some of the other girls, and they’ve more or less learned the whole dance by the end of the first week. It bodes well for their next few weeks together, as they both know the two-week rehearsal process is a luxury that’s not going to be afforded to them for the rest of the series. Besides, next week is full of social media madness and promo filmings and they’ve got their It Takes Two interview with Cheryl on Friday. It’s going to be exhausting.

“It’s going to be exhausting,” Brooke smiles gently, contemplating the week ahead and rubbing her eyes at the end of their Saturday night rehearsal. It’s 10pm and probably far too late and Vanessa should’ve let Brooke get an early night but she got carried away polishing up little sections with her.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept you so late tonight,” Vanessa laments, frowning. Brooke frowns back, her face full of concern.

“Don’t apologise! I’m willing to stay as long as it takes. However long you think I need,” Brooke gives a small laugh, and Vanessa concedes and joins her laughter. The thought hits her that they’ve not shared too much on social media yet. Some of the pairs are giving round-the-clock updates as if they’re News 24 (she doesn’t think Aja and Farrah have stopped going live on Instagram since they began rehearsing but that’s what you get with a reality TV star as a partner), and Vanessa feels a bit guilty. She knows she’s got fans- it never gets any less crazy to say but it’s true- and she knows they’re as excited about her Strictly journey as she is. So she takes her phone out of her bag and waves it a little at Brooke.

“Hey. I know it’s late, but we’ve been workin’ so hard we kinda forgot about all the fun shit. Wanna take a few post-rehearsal selfies for Insta?”

She pauses as Brooke lets out a small laugh, suddenly feels embarrassed. “You know. If that’s your sorta thing.”

“I’m a TV presenter, Vanessa, I’m not the Prime Minister. I’m allowed to have fun,” Brooke laughs, struts up to stand beside her and faces the mirrored wall. “Go on then, Naomi Campbell, start the damn photoshoot.”

Vanessa laughs and her heart gives a little flutter as Brooke locks her fingers and rests them on her shoulder, leaning down and resting her head on them. She pouts and in turn Vanessa throws up a peace sign and sticks her tongue out. She takes a burst of five photos that will all look identical but she knows she’ll be able to find a tiny, minute difference in them all. Brooke leans over her phone as she scrolls through the photos, and suddenly jabs a finger against her screen.

“That one. It’s cute.”

Vanessa obeys orders and puts it on her Instagram story along with a timestamp and a little gif of a teddy bear falling asleep.

“Now do a video!” Brooke bounces on her toes all excited, and Vanessa has to laugh at how much she’s getting into the swing of things. Vanessa points the camera at them both, begins recording.

“Hey guys, Vanjie here with my girl Brooke Lynn, so it is…” she forgets the time, appeals to Brooke. “10.05? 10.06?”

“Way-too-late-o’clock,” Brooke chimes in, pokes Vanessa’s face teasingly. Vanessa rolls her eyes.

“We’ll go with that. An’ we have just finished a run of our full dance, you’re gonna love it, I can’t wait to show off this girl, y’all are not ready.”

Vanessa feels her face grow ever-so-slightly flushed as Brooke turns to her and smiles. “Aww. That’s cute, thanks! Oh, can we tell them what the song is?”

Vanessa faces her and laughs. “No way! We gotta wait til Monday, that’s when they all get released.”

“Please?” Brooke actually pouts. It’s too adorable and her face is so close to Vanessa’s in her attempt to fit into frame that Vanessa could totally lean forward and give her the tiniest little kiss if she wanted.

She doesn’t want to. Why the fuck did that thought just appear in her head?

“No! They’ll find out on Monday. And the dance too! No special treatment.”

“Ugh. I’m so telling my agent, this is definitely illegal. Should’ve stayed on the damn One Show.”

Vanessa bursts out laughing at Brooke’s joke, shakes her head at the camera. “I have to work with this diva. Jeez. Well, see you guys later!”

“Yeah, see you all later! If she hasn’t murdered me by then.”

“If I haven’t murdered her by then. Bye, love ya!” Vanessa signs off and stops recording, posts the video to her story as Brooke laughs. “You’re a natural at all this social media shit. Right, go get some rest. See you Monday, girl.”

“See you Monday,” Brooke smiles. Vanessa doesn’t miss the way she sort of hovers, lingering with the smile still on her face before looking to the floor and then leaving the room. Vanessa wonders what she was thinking. It couldn’t have been that important.

Before Vanessa begins to pack up she checks Instagram to see the reaction to the stuff she’s just dropped. There’s a few replies- she always gets them on her stories from fans and she tries to reply to most of them. One in particular catches her eye- a reply to the video which is peppered with heart-eye emojis and simply reads:

OHMYGOSH!!!!! You guys are SO cute together!!!

Vanessa doesn’t realise how long she’s been smiling until she’s left the studio and walking to the tube.

They both have a day off on Sunday- they all do. It’s been a long first week and they’ve all earned it. Vanessa has an ice bath because she’s forgotten how intense it is to be rehearsing all day every day with just one other person. It reminds her of the show she did that Summer with-

Well. It doesn’t matter now.

What matters now is Brooke, and Vanessa spends most of the daytime on Sunday sitting on the small sofa that’s squashed under the ceiling beam in her tiny narrow flat, curled up under a blanket and trying to figure out how to text her. She wants to make that connection with her partner, she wants her and Brooke to be close friends and to be able to go for lunch and talk about anything together and have their own little jokes and stuff like that. Lots of the dancers have that kind of connection with their girls already- Crystal and Gigi are averaging around two silly selfies a day on social media, Vanessa can hear Monique and Monet’s laughter ricocheting off the walls and down the stairs from their rehearsal room, and there is already some are-they-aren’t-they media speculation in the form of Jan and Jackie, who were papped going to get bagels in a break between rehearsals with their pinkies interlocked and small smiles on their faces. Vanessa’s not jealous of them, whatever it is they have. She’d asked Crystal about them, because she’s closer with Jan, and Crystal had laughed it off and said they’re just friends and they’re getting on very well. Vanessa has reason to doubt her, mind you. She knows chemistry when she sees it.

Vanessa finally decides to shoot Brooke a message at around six at night. She’s making a cheat meal of mac and cheese with a bunch of chorizo through it, because she damn well deserves a carb and some dairy and some oily meat. It’s when she realises that she’s made enough for a small village that she takes her phone out, messages Brooke before she can overthink it.

V: i’ve just made way too much mac and cheese, u wanna have a rehearsal room floor picnic tomorrow? x

The moment it’s sent she regrets how outrageously fucking pathetic she sounds. That is until she gets a reply around two minutes later, one that makes her face hurt with a smile.

B: No chance you’re offloading your failed masterchef attempts onto me. How do I know it’s edible? x

Her reply is flirtatious. Vanessa tries to explain it away but she can’t, so she positions her phone in front of the huge earthenware tray she’s just taken out of the oven, the breadcrumbs giving a satisfying crackle as she sticks a serving spoon into it and takes a boomerang of the strings of cheese and billows of steam that emerge as she pulls the spoon out and a golden slice of the baked pasta with it. She sends it off to Brooke without any written reply and for a moment she forgets about any potential response as hunger overtakes her. She grabs a white bowl with a small crack down its side and piles the pasta high into it, sitting back on the couch and pulling the purple blanket over her knees as she scans the channels for something to keep her company as she eats. She settles on a rerun of some 90s gameshow and as it eventually finishes, so does her dinner. It’s only then that Vanessa remembers her phone, and as she dashes back across to the kitchen counter her heart gives a giant thump of joy as she sees four messages from Brooke.

B: Omg I take it all back, I will never doubt your cooking skills again x

B: Is that chorizo???????? I’m so hungry x

B: Are you mad at me because I said it wouldn’t be edible?? I’m sorry!!!!!! x

B: Please bring some for lunch tomorrow! I’ll get us a dessert, call it an apology x

Vanessa looks at the little “x” after each one. She’s blushing before she even knows it and it’s almost like Brooke has planted real little kisses on both her cheeks.

V: i’d say it’s a date but i’m not gonna give u the satisfaction x

A reply from Brooke doesn’t come but somehow it doesn’t bother her.

They have their picnic on the floor of the rehearsal room the next day, just as had been promised. Brooke makes ridiculous noises as she takes her first bite of the mac and cheese and Vanessa pokes fun at her for buying the cakes and not baking them (but Galaxy cake bars are delicious, so she doesn’t complain too much). They make a silly video for Instagram- “Hey guys! We’ve stopped for lunch and I brought a picnic!” “Hey, I made cakes!” “Bought cakes. Bought.” - and they’re almost too full to practise afterwards but they do, until late into the night, and the day after that and the day after that. They squeeze in their photoshoot for the title sequence and an interview for the Radio Times and the days pass in a busy blur. Vanessa’s smile grows wider with each rehearsal as they become better and better at the dance and on Thursday night they run it through with no mistakes at all, Vanessa so happy that she jumps into Brooke’ arms and squeals with delight and Brooke squeezes her tight and does the same. Before they know it it’s Friday, they’re the last It Takes Two interview of the week, and the first show is a little over twenty-four hours away.

“You nervous?” Vanessa whispers to Brooke as they watch Cheryl interviewing one of the past contestants they’ve invited on to give their insight. The sister show of Strictly isn’t watched by a huge number of people but it is watched by the hardcore fans, and Vanessa is anxious to make a good impression.

“A little. I’m used to conducting the interviews, not giving them,” Brooke frowns a bit, sweeps her blonde hair over her shoulder. She turned up to the studios in a smart blue suit and orange heels and Vanessa is amazed that she hasn’t dissolved into liquid form under Brooke’s gaze.

Brooke is so beautiful, and Vanessa wonders if she’ll ever stop thinking that to herself.

Vanessa drops a shy hand to her side and takes Brooke’s, lacing their fingers together and giving them a squeeze. They hold hands and press their bodies together and look into each other’s eyes all the time as part of the dance so it’s not weird, it’s almost routine. When Brooke smiles at her, reassured and at ease, Vanessa relaxes by at least ninety percent.

They’re soon called out while a pre-recorded VT of their rehearsal footage plays and they whisper an excited hey to Cheryl in all her fake-tanned, white-toothed glory, the very vision of an Essex girl-turned-professional. Vanessa’s been interviewed by Cheryl before, last year when she was on the bench and all she had to do were some silly challenges and goof around with the other pros. This is different.

Vanessa takes a quick breath in and holds it while she smiles maniacally at the camera and Cheryl does their introduction. “Alright, now, joining us for the last interview of the week- it’s Brooke and Vanessa!”

A cheer goes up from the production crew as they both wave to the camera, and it makes Vanessa’s smile turn more goofy than she’d intended it to be. She leans into Brooke’s side as she laughs and she notices that Brooke’s got an arm resting on the headboard on the sofa behind her.

“Now, Brooke, you’ve had a fortnight of rehearsals and had to work around your busy taping schedule- what’s that been like?” Cheryl asks, leaning forward with interest. Vanessa has always liked Cheryl, mainly because an interview with her feels like a chat with an old friend and she always genuinely seems interested in what someone has to say.

“Ugh, you know what? It’s been amazing,” Brooke smiles, and Vanessa’s heart lights up in affirmation. She turns to look at Brooke and she’s already smiling at her. “Obviously it’s been tiring at times, I think I’ve had a combined total of about 10 hours of sleep this week-”

Vanessa snorts, laughs at how dramatic Brooke’s being.

“-but I wouldn’t change it. I’ve learned so much, and V’s such a good teacher. I really struck it lucky with her.”

The production team let out an “aww”, and Vanessa tries to bite back a grin and fails. Brooke’s arm goes from the headboard to rest around her shoulders and Vanessa is scared to move in case she scares her away like a butterfly.

“Now speaking of- Vanessa,” Cheryl’s face breaks into a smile as she turns to her, and Vanessa’s stomach flutters a little with nerves. “You obviously felt you struck it lucky with Brooke too, let’s remind everyone of your reaction to getting paired with her.”

Vanessa lets out a wail of protest and buries her face in her hands as the clip of their pairing is played, and she can hear Brooke creasing with laughter beside her. Her embarrassment is rewarded with Brooke squeezing her shoulder in reassurance, and Vanessa supposes it’s sort of worth it. The clip comes to an end and, as Vanessa takes her hands away from her face, she knows she’s blushing hard.

“Now, you were…I think you were a bit happy?” Cheryl teases sarcastically. Vanessa playfully glares at her, and Brooke squeezes her shoulder again. “Are you still as overjoyed with having Brooke as a partner now you’ve started to rehearse with her?”

“Aw, I’m still as happy as I was on launch night. Honestly,” Vanessa smiles at Cheryl, turns and smiles at Brooke too because she can’t help it. “She just makes it so easy because- she doesn’t stop smiling, so rehearsals are fun, and she is just the hardest-working girl…that even a word? Hardest-working…most hardworking..I don’t know, but she’s it, you know?”

Her praise is rewarded by Brooke dropping her hand down to her waist, and Vanessa’s heart gives a judder. It’s not like she’s not used to Brooke’s hands on her, but the context is different, and it throws her off ever so slightly in the best possible way.

“I think what’s nice is- I’ve wanted to be on this show for so long and it’s V’s first year with a partner, so we’re kind of doing this whole journey together, and it’s special,” Brooke smiles, and Vanessa nods in agreement, as if the movement of her head will stop the blood rushing to her cheeks in a blush.

“It is nice! Because I suppose, Brooke, you ain’t gotta compare yourself to anyone because there’s not been any partners before you,” Cheryl adds with a shrug. Vanessa smiles at her words and nods, turns to Brooke as she speaks.

“Yeah. You’re my favourite.”

Brooke’s eyes have a twinkle in them as she smiles back at her. “Aw, thanks.”

The interaction is so quick that Cheryl’s already on to her next question before she can pick up on it. “Now, Vanessa, you chose a quickstep for week one, why was that?”

Vanessa sighs a little as she thinks about it. She doesn’t want to come across too cocky, come out with because my girl’s the best and I knew she could do it in her sleep with her eyes shut, so she instead tries to come across as humble as she can. “I think because- it’s a fast dance, and it’s good to go right in at the deep end on your first week. I can see Brooke Lynn’s potential, and I know what she’s capable of, so we just sort of went for it and she’s coped so well. She’s thrived.”

“Not survived, but thrived! I love it!,” Cheryl laughs along with her. “Now, this pairing, I have heard…through the grapevine…this is a bit of a linguistically challenged pairing, am I right?”

Vanessa blinks at her. “What’s that even mean?”

Brooke howls with laughter beside her and Cheryl does the same opposite, and Vanessa pouts. She doesn’t like to look dumb, and the wounded part of her wants to remind them both that she’s the only one out of the three of them that speaks more than one language, but she lets it drop when Brooke explains it to her softly. “Like…words and stuff.”

“Oh right! Yeah, so Brooke’s got lil words for all the steps we’re doin’.”

“It just helps me remember the timing!” Brooke laughs, her turn to feel embarrassed as she covers her face with her hands.

“Yeah, so we go, like…step, hop, beans-on-toast!” Vanessa explains. Cheryl’s looking at Brooke as if she has two heads.

“What is beans on toast?!” she exclaims. Brooke shakes her head, gives Vanessa a look of admonishment.

“It’s just a little phrase, and it goes with the timing of the steps of the dance, and it helps me remember them…I won’t do it on the night, you won’t hear me say it!” Brooke laughs. She’s got the slightest hint of a blush hitting her cheeks, and part of Vanessa feels warm with the fact that the stage lights are too bright to pick up on it and it’s like a secret only she knows.

“Well, Vanessa, there’s also a revelation I’ve heard today that I’m a little bit shocked by…” Cheryl begins, and Vanessa feels nervous, as if Cheryl’s about to rip the butterflies out of her stomach and show them to Brooke as some sort of proof of any embarrassing little feelings she’s got for her. “…you’re a Strictly pro that can’t actually say the name of one of the dance moves?”

“Oh my God,” Vanessa lets out a groan. She knows instantly what Cheryl is referring to, and Brooke’s hand is wrenched from its position on her waist as she claps her hands with mirth.

“Can you say it now?” Brooke teases, and Vanessa rolls her eyes at her.

“Girl, you know I can’t!” she whines, prepares herself to try and say the offending word. “Sash-ay?”

“No!” Brooke laughs, the twinkle in her eye almost blinding.

“Sash-ay?” Vanessa hears herself, and shakes her head. “No, wait, I already said it like that.”

“It’s not like a sachet of sauce,” Cheryl supplies unhelpfully. Vanessa raises her eyebrows at her. She tries again.

“Chassé,” she finally comes out with, and a roar of satisfaction erupts from the crew behind the cameras. She laughs as she protests her lack of pronunciation. “Leave me alone, I got two languages to try an’ speak in!”

“And you can’t say chassé in either of them,” Brooke teases, sticking her tongue out at her. Vanessa finds it hard to rip her eyes away from her partner as Cheryl speaks again.

“Well, you two, you’ve been a joy to have with us today, good luck for Saturday night-”

“Thank you!”

“- Brooke and Vanessa, everybody!”

A cheer goes up from the crew, and Vanessa can’t help but giggle at the silliness that was the end of their interview. As Cheryl introduces another section of the show, Vanessa feels Brooke slip her hand into her own, squeezing it once. Vanessa squeezes back, and Brooke meets her eyes in a calm smile. It’s Friday evening, they’re off to rehearse as soon as this is over, and then it will be Saturday and their first live show as a couple. Vanessa is the best kind of nervous, and she finds herself shutting her eyes for a second as if to check she’s not dreaming.

Another squeeze of her hand from Brooke Lynn brings her back to earth with a bump, but she doesn’t mind.

#rpdr fanfiction #bet you look good on the dancefloor #ortega #strictly au #lesbian au #branjie #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #monique heart #jaida essence hall #crystal methyd #phi phi o'hara #plastique tiara #cheryl hole #background jankie #background momo #background crygi

15 notes · View notes

pantsusnifferr · 4 years ago

Text

I’m gonna be hella honest here, 2020 wasn’t the drastic life changing year i had hoped it’ll be.

Now its a tradition, well maybe, not really. Who knows...

Let’s start with the goals which ive accomplished in 2020 yeah?

Have less regrets Live more, experience more, get out of the comfort zone Be hardworking, be brave Work hard for the company Rekindle ties to the ones important to me Start working on my YouTube channel for company Study hard Be more confident, be more social Be a nicer and kinder person

Yes i definitely have had lesser regrets overall, i learnt that listening to that gnawing feeling in my gut is one of the few things that will lead me to get less regrets. Perhaps that’s an indication of something that you really want on the inside. Many times this year i just took a leap of faith and made decisions on the fly, going out of my way many times just to do the things i wanted to do. The me a year ago would never have done any of these things, let alone spend any money or time into such ‘frivolous’ activities.

Lets go through some of the highlights for my accomplished goals.

1. Bought Airshow tickets on impulse and rented camera lenses just because i had a shot i wanna get.

Ended up getting that money shot and feeling pretty accomplished. It was nice to meet up and connect with fellow aviation enthusiasts and friends from my Air Force days, but i still felt like i didn’t fit in. Oh well, i didn’t regret anything. I set my mind to a thing i thought would be fun and challenging and i did it!

2. Trespassing into the green corridor for an assignment during the circuit breaker

haha...Definitely isn’t worth the trouble in the end due to shitty unusable footage and total lack of input when it comes to the editing process. BUT STILL, the feeling of walking through thick jungle and jumping over construction barricades and barriers in the middle fo some goddamn forest just to get some footage is an experience nonetheless! Shitty teammates, good thing we managed to pull through and made some friends along the way. Wasn’t worth it, but i didn’t regret the experience one bit.

3. Got into more active activities with an open mind.

Went to the gym with friends a lot more and tried to lead a healthier lifestyle, cycling, hema classes (more about that in a bit) The me from a couple of years ago would definately never give this idea a shot. Running at least once a week, keeping track of my health, all these made me feel a lot better. I should really get into it more though.

4. Hema classes .

Never thought swinging swords around can be that much fun! And i almost didn’t want to show up because i had a sudden surge of social anxiety in the morning before. Glad i powered through that to get to that class that october aternoon. I was mostly on autopilot, depressed and wanting more...but for the last few months of the year, hema classes gave me something to look forward to, and this really changed up my entire outlook then. I suppose having a newfound hobby you never knew you liked changes people for the better.

5. Going out of my way many many times just to help out a friend. Or just to hang out.

I remember being too lazy to go out and have fun. Too lazy to wanna get up to get something done even with friends. Installing internet access points, cleaning up rooms, setting up laptops etc. Perhaps its the large amount of FOMO i’ve started to develop, or maybe its just me sick of being a sad loney wreck. Who knows, all i know is its a blessing to have friends and i am so glad that they’re willing to give me their time of the day as well.

6. Making videos for work.

I didn’t HAVE to do this. Autopilot at work is a scary thing, its my own company and i could’ve done so much more... but i didn’t... or rather i couldn’t. I don’t remember what came over me and how i manage to find the willpower to shoot the videos then edit them over a few days. And i have no idea how i managed to actually follow through with it and get the damn thing edited. Not my proudest work, but damn am i proud of myself for actually doing the thing!

7. Keeping at it for school and not giving up.

Statistics, the killer module. Logistics, another killer one. I studied so so hard for it, i thought i was going to fuck it up like how i fucked up my assignments. But I am so so so glad that it paid off. Taking days of work to study is the correct move and i am so glad i had the discilpine to stick with it. Haha discilpline i said, more like letting the panic set in untill i find myself studying as if my life depended on it. But still, an A and a B+ feels really great though. My first A, that’s still something to celebrate for! Thanks for helping, you know who you are!

8. Giving more of a shit for my company

Im a little undecided about whether i should put this under the part about having no regrets. I am happy with the money and growth we’ve got in our company, alongside the many happy customers ive got, I still somehow felt that i have struggled so much and had a lot more anxiety and stress as compared to the previous years. Perhaps i just need to chill. Although i don’t doubt the fact that taking more responsibility does indeed make things less mundane. Appreciate the increase in pay and bonuses though.

9. Spent quality time with family

I used to have this feeling whenever i am around my cousins, these are the people whom i’ve grown up wit,h and who i used to consider really close friends. I just felt that over the years we have just became different people altogether. They’re normies with normal hobbies, living their lives normally and successfully while im just a weird outsider.

Im somewhat glad that we managed to find some common ground in gaming and our talking sessions. Attending their wedding is a weird feeling but im still somewhat glad that a part of them is still the same on the inside. We might not be as close anymore but im still happy that they treasured the times and memories we had just the same as i did. Lets hope i’ll not fuck it up and i’ll need another chance to rekindle this relationship. Still, them being more successful in life and work still gives me this crazy inferioty complex around them.

Talking with my mom has given me a lot of peace of mind. I am so glad that I have a responsible parent and business partner who shares the same values as i do. Makes things a lot less stressful to know that she’s got my back.

10. Became more social

Yep, went out of my comfort zone many times to talk to people and help out when i could! Its always good to do the kind thing and reach out, when i’d just brush it off as someone else’s problem previously. I am really proud of myself for this.

Now for the goals ive failed. Start work on my personal YouTube channel Join the weeb club to find more gamer weeb friends Learn weeb speak Be healthy Learn 2 songs on bass guitar or ukulele Draw at least once a month (I did but they’re not completed art)

Oof, i don’t know perhaps its the lack of time or the lack of effort. Maybe i’ve been putting in so much effort into the other things i don’t have the mental energy to process these. Perhaps i don’t want it bad enough...

Art and drawing in particular has been really bad. I want to be good at drawing so badly but i really just can’t be arsed to practice. Music too.

I think i am definately healtheir than before but i am nowhere near where i should be. Gotta step up!

Now here’s what i wanna do for the next year

Keep healthy, Lose weight! Be even more social! Start work on personal youtube channel Learn ONE SONG on any instrument Draw at least twice in the next year! Live even more, experience more, get out of the comfort zone more! Be hardworking, be brave

#2020 year in review

3 notes · View notes

hugsandharrifield · 4 years ago

Text

Harrifield Modern Day College AU Ficlet

Welp it was burning in the back of my brain I had to write as a full ficlet The Party - Steve X Dwight Modern Day College AU ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Steve was drunk that much was true, he had been taking shots all night and had shifted into that nice light headed feeling. Everything was a bit wobbly but he was still aware of everything around him. He wandered the main sitting area of the Delta Tau Omega frat house as people passed by him at the crowded party. "Hey Steve" a voice called out to him from over on a couch. It was his friend Dwight a pretty chill guy who had started coming to frat parties about 5 months ago. He was flanked by Robin and Meg two girls that they both were friends with, Dwight having started coming to these parties because Meg had invited him. "What's up man?" he waved over exaggerated and goofy like. "Come sit with us!" Dwight said excitedly he patted at the couch and Robin moved to make room for him. Steve sat down next to Dwight and flashed a great big smile "Oooh im so blasted man!" Dwight cracked a smile too "Yeah i've had more than a few as well." He said as he adjusted his glasses. One of the girls offered them some more shots, Steve enthusiastically belted one down and Dwight not as graceful sipped one down. "Your supposed to do it all in one go man" Steve laughed "I am terrible at that though." Dwight shrugged and laughed. Steve's head swam a bit more and he chatted with Dwight, he really liked him. He was a chill and very geeky guy. He was going to school as an Astronomy major, and he had this pretty cool put together hipster geek thing going on, with vests and dress shirts and his big black framed glasses. He also was openly gay, which was pretty cool. At the parties the girls flocked around him and constantly hung off him. So Steve got to meet girls he wouldn't have if he wasn't around. Not that Steve didn't have plenty of admirers he was a looker if he didn't say so himself. "How are classes?" Steve ventured "Have you found that perfect college gay nerd to watch the stars with you?" Dwight giggled "Nah everybody is super caught up in their own thing man. If there is a guy that would be interested he's probably gonna be burnt out before I get to him." Steve nodded "Must be rough, I mean it's hard enough with regular dating, I can't imagine just finding someone who is both a guy and interested as the first step." Dwight shrugged. "Yeah it can be annoying at times but worth it." Steve's brain was just in that perfectly addled place when he asked the next question "So what's it like?" "what's what like?" Dwight looked confused "You know... Being with a guy. Kissing, and etc?" Steve said honestly curious because he had no filter. Dwight flushed a bit red "Well I mean I can't imagine that it would be that much different than being with a girl. But it feels pretty amazing when I get a chance to do it." Steve said " I mean I don't know it's not like I ever tried, but certainly it has to be slightly different?" Dwight looked thoughtful for a moment and then said "Well I mean if you ever want to find out you can always "Experiment" with me." a look of worry crossed Dwight's face perhaps thinking that he had gone a little too far. Robin and Meg had been listening to the entire conversation and a laugh came out of Robin's throat. Meg voiced "Steve you should totally kiss him! I'll take a video and everything" Steve looked a bit surprised and scratched his head, Dwight immediately tried to diffuse the situation. "It's okay man I was just joking." Robin and Meg were having none of that and continued to egg Steve on. Steve looked at Dwight's face seeing that he had basically just admitted that he found Steve attractive. Oh what the hell, worst thing that happens is that he doesn't like it right? Steve leans in and a small gasp comes out of Dwight’s mouth as Steve closes the distance and plants his lips on Dwight's. He has nice soft lips Steve thinks to himself, it's pleasant, and a light electric feeling shoots up Steve' s hair. For a brief second he thinks that he should stop, but then he feels Dwight’s lips moving against his and it feels really good. A small part of the lips and then holy crap there's the tongue. And wow! OKAY WOW! Dwight is going to town and WOW! He's good... Like really good. Like way better than any girl he's ever kissed. Steve goes with it, starts pushing against Dwight matching tongue for tongue. Moves his hands up and threads them into Dwight's soft spikey hair. The girls have lost their minds at this point hooting and hollering and video taping them. Steve knows he should stop at some point, but like this is amazing. And Dwight has this stubble on his face that feels so good to rub against. After a few long minutes Steve stops and pulls back trying to catch his breath. He sees Dwight with the biggest goofy grin on his face and his glasses crooked and hair completely out of whack cause Steve had threaded his fingers through it. Steve reached in and adjusted his glasses for him. "That was crazy man." Steve said with his eyes wide. "I hope that wasn't too weird, I'm sorry." Dwight said apologetically "What!? No man that was amazing!" he pulled Dwight in for a hug and whispered into his ear. "Would you like to go on a real date sometime?" "What?" Dwight looked confused "Are are... are you sure?" "Yeah totally!" Steve beamed clearly still a bit tipsy. "That was insane, or are you telling me you aren't interested." Steve waggled his eyebrows suggestively "Yes absolutely yes!" Dwight said as he turned bright red. "Good you have my number man, just call me tomorrow and we can work it out." Steve gave Dwight a peck on the cheek and wrapped his arm around his back and asked Robin to get them both some waters.

#steve harrington #dwight fairfield #dead by daylight #stranger things #au #ficlet #harrifield #college

16 notes · View notes

thethirdwheel404 · 4 years ago

Text

Med Rewatch Series (#3)

Let’s see what we have on the slate. this should be the premiere of s3: Speak Your Truth. I am watching this during school, so let’s see how bad my focus is.

-the episode description is “The shooting of Dr. Charles moves to the courtroom and things turn complicated for the doctors and nurses of Chicago Med.” so still on brand for being all sorts of vague.

-all that really says is more sarah angst so big sad

-let’s get started

-god back to classic med, starting things off fast, just how i like it

-how tf kellogg live through the headshot. guy can’t do anything right

-connor running towards charles on the guerney screaming “what the hell happened!?” and sharon just being “he got shot.” is so fucking hilarous to me i have no clue why

-oh god i remember how much it bothered me that connor changed his hair from the end of s2 to the start of s3 lol (bc it’s supposed to be the same night, but yk, nitpicking)

-the time jump is such an interesting choice. i remember it was jarring at first. i’m sure i’ll have more to say as the episode goes on

-aw hey guys look its sarah! adorable

-also stoll

-oh god, nat taking a sabbatical was weird

-WHEN SHE LOOKS AT WILL SHE LOOKS LIKE SHE IS IN PAIN IM SCREAMING

-counting

-oh boy watching s3 means i get to watch noah get thrown through a glass door and also be a disappointment

-the way connor is effortlessly charming here in the beginning is maybe the only reason i tolerate his character (also more of sarah being adorable)

-horney boi. stop it.

-noah following after sarah like a lovesick puppy is funny

-sarah saying ‘he’s the reason i went into psych...’ honey, psych is not good for your mental health please stop giving him credit

-HOLD THE FUCK ON?????

-its the s3 premiere and Sarah talks about her dad and her strained relationship, specifically because noah compares charles getting shot to her dad getting shot. but like, foreshadowing... maybe i should give the med writers a smidge more of credit than I have been in terms of planning things...

-sarah: “don’t compare my dad to dr. charles.”

-long sigh. god... sarah being so supportive. and charles just being ‘No???’

-not to be weird but court room scenes always get me feeling some sorta way

-haha its peter stone! remember him? remember chicago justice?

-THE BETRAYAL ON SARAH’S FACE - she cares so much about him and he’s about to get his own shooter acquitted.

-god sarah is just fucking fantastic. she feels so passionately about caring about people

-god charles fucking hates himself so much? he should Not be ava’s mentor

-charles: “I think the shooting is affecting your objectivity.” sarah: “mY oBjECtiViTy?!”

-also they said ‘the fact he was concealing a weapon shows like fear malicious content’ or what ever. and uh,, sarah? please. please, for my sanity. (bc of what happens later in the season)

-charles- you know how you can help me? fuck off.

-lol this kid is the one who had like a tooth ache, and now his brain is rotting or something. probably will happen to me (@ my parents please let me see the dentist)

-this is where doris is like ethan is playing favorites

-the like background noises of the ed calm me down. they prob really shouldn’t

-they’re gonna fuckkkkk

-something to be said about sarah being gung ho about kellogg being off the streets and a danger to society when... her dad...

- I really like when med does the thing when one character is just standing in the ed and they transition to the next story by having the next character run past

-what is with all of the nurses drama like honestly

-hey guys look its ava! (let see if i have enough brain cells to find anything)

-heyyyy look at that. ava trying usurp some of connor’s cases. while, yeah she is being a tad undermining, connor’s gf was literally just discharged from a psych hold. this is just an interaction to keep in mind for future events.

-ava’s playing full cunning while connor’s busy fucking his girlfriend

-dont hate the player man

-because they’re both under latham, they’re more rivals than hero/villain, bc they have a common guy who is their advisor. but yeah. dont hate the player

-robin calling ava ‘cruella’ is making want to throw hands ngl. god dude chill - bc it means either robin just saw ava interacting with people and thought ‘what a bitch’ or connor was complaining about ava and either way I hate it.

-connor broke up with robin bc she was too horneyyy (ik he didn’t break up w her but yk)

-connor - reese interaction was nice. until he started blaming her bruh wtf chilll

-her arguing with connor is like. peak. (ava + sarah teaming up to bully connor and not take any of his shit?? i think yes)

-this ethan april thing is stupid. i’m just gonna say it.

-ava: “that would have been a really great idea if you were trying to kill him.” SHE TAKES NO. SURVIVORS. i love her so much

-YEAH RHODES GET FUCKED! i think one of the reasons ava was disliked at first was bc latham kind of favored her and... literally everyone else favored connor? so get fucked? but here, ava can obviously hold her own and connor is just whining. I’m glad they put them on equal ground bc connor and ava’s direct superior is on ava’s side, and literally everyone else is with connor. AND CONNORS STILL PLAYED AS AN UNDERDOG BC AVA TOOK HIS SURGERY! HOW. infuriating

-anyway, for the purposes of the theory ava is capable enough to hold her own as a stand alone, and clever enough to be entertaining

-holy shit no i think i just remembered how this storyline goes. connor gets a better surgery, right? he gets glory and stuff. this is too fucking rich, come on. let one thing go wrong for him.

-i miss ava

-GOD SARAH LOOKS GOOD IN HER FUCKING BLAZER. unfair. unmatched

-stop it sarah you have anxiety.

-SARAH NO. BABY IS SCARED.

-okay. Ava is half bickering, half flirting with him, a little annoying but we put up with it bc we love her and its not her fault she’s supposed to be his love interest. but still, it’s playful, it’s not neccesarily flirting. conceivably, she could be talking to anybody. But then, she tells him to relax, to take a day off. SHE’S STILL A GOOD PERSON. SHE’S NOT TRYING TO EXPLICITLY SPITE CONNOR, OR ANYONE. that’s what people tend to forget. she’s not malicious.

-connor thinks she is tho. maybe that’s why some people hated her, bc connor hated her

-charles: “kellogg is not a criminal” BRUH HE SHOT YOU

-HOLY SHIT. SHARON RN IS LIKE YOU WANT KELLOGG TO BE FREE BC YOU DIDN’T CATCH THE SIGNS OF A KILLER AND ITS ABOUT YOUR EGO

-AND??? SARAH’S DAD ANYONE? that was why he was so persistent of sarah’s dad. he wanted to catch the signs.

-OKAY HERE. When latham is like, wait, did ava manipulate me? is she actually sus? he was the one person on her side and then boom he sides with connor. literally do you have any idea how great ava would be without connor?

-this manstead thing is soooo exhausting

Okay so what have we learned?

Ava is getting Connor’s cases. kind of rude but also, they’re surgeons? It’s super competitive. AND CONNOR LITERALLY WON THAT ROUND BC LATHAM SWITCHED SIDES???

AND SHE STILL TOLD CONNOR TO GET SLEEP. LIKE SHE WAS BEING NICE WHILE ALSO BEING SNARKY

ava had less lines in the ep than in s2 and honestly. wtf.

not much content, but if you look at her content, come on she’s still amazing.

thanks for sticking through

read the rest here:

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Extra

#chicago med #med rewatch series #speak your truth #mine

3 notes · View notes

sootcloak · 4 years ago

Text

Crow’s Shadow: Carrion Circle

Second part of a short serial installment I’m working on as a general exercise on plotting, editing and the like. You can find the other parts linked here - {Part One: Repair Required} - I’ll add the last link once Part Three is up. Same spoiler warnings as Part One apply. Same general content warnings apply.

~2400 words, featuring Hilda the Mongrel and Rostnthal the Reborn. Centered around a tense cross country trip, and the looming specter of a dangerous foe. Twelve help me I’d hoped I could fit more of the plot into this one the last part is gonna be so long, such a pain to edit.

A cold, mountain spring cuts through the highlands. The water runs babbling over old, long-smooth stones. Along its bank, a cart is still. A pair of chocobos sleep, curled in on one another. Bright yellow feathers pool starkly against the grey and white of the highland’s snow-covered earth.

The campfire, dim and growing colder by the minute, pops and sizzles in the moonlit dark. Every few moments, the earth rumbles with a heavy snore from deep in Rostnthal’s chest. The old Sea Wolf is leaned up against the back of one of the birds, a canvas sheet thrown over both he and the chocobo. Hilda lies beneath the cart itself, nestled up in a tight ball of quilts and jackets.

In the back of the cart, Vavara rifles through the packed supplies. She loads specially marked shells into her revolver. It’s reflective white metal glints in the moonlight. It has a mirror shine in the dead of night, it’s engravings doing little to break up the perfect polish she’s maintained. It is a slow process, painstaking with just one hand. The cartridges hum and vibrate in their chambers, the ether concentrate within nervously singing to her heightened hearing.

Six shots in each cylinder.

If he’s there, it’ll take at least fifteen of these to break his barrier. Even with aether-charged rounds, the inadequacy of her armaments hangs over her. Missing an arm means choosing between her spear and a firearm. Damaged as she is, she might not even have enough aether at her disposal to ignite the spearblade.The core nested between her lungs is pressed cold and stark against her heart, like a long-dull knife. Her soul, nestled within it’s crystal depths, aches from long-faded scars. Her whole body would be a treasure trove for him, secrets to decipher, power to steal. Weapons to wield.

Even then, measured against his life - her secrets, her safety, all things are cast into the pot.

She loads a spare cylinder with slow, committed strokes. It’ll take a long time to reload the weapon, even with this preparation.. She didn’t pick this hand, but she’ll play it till the cards are on the table. Folding was never an option, anyways.

Light falls on the small camp, the morning sun casting light into the narrow crevice beneath the cart. Hilda wakes up with a yawn. Her arms stretch across the dirt, eyes squeezed shut. She growls softly deep in her chest, and sits up. Her forehead slams into the wood with an audible crunch.

“Seven hells-” She snarls.

“Gyahah!” Rostnthal’s laughter echoes over the small glade, watching with a gleaming eye as she clutches her forehead.

“‘Ey, Ashenheart! I won! Ye’ owe me a drink when we get back!” His grin is audible, a chuckle reverberating in his voice.

“I never agreed to playing your game.” Vavara says. “Besides, I owe you more than a drink if we all return safely.”

“Heh. Humorless. What with ye’ hangin with the Scions lately, thought you may’ve lightened up some. Guess even they can’t get ye’ out’a that shell.” His voice is no less mirthful, seemingly unfazed by her chilled tone.

“A’ight, come get yer food. Breakfast’s done.” He slaps the side of the kettle, ringing loud and full. Still groaning and clutching a bloodied face, Hilda drops into a cross-legged sit besides Rostnthal.

They goad and poke at one another, the words fading into white noise as Vara sits atop the cart.Her eyes’ light dims, old, ash-soaked memories rising from the shadows of memory. A wave of nauseating nostalgia hits her in the gut.

“You not eating?” Hilda prods Vara with an empty bowl. The old, smoke-scented memories submerge into the dark again.

“Not right now. I had hardtack before you two were up.” She pushes herself up to her feet, her arm stretching, slight shoulders squaring for a moment under the winter overcoat.

“I’ll get the birds ready while you two eat. We need to move soon.” Her footsteps crunch in the snow as she walks away. A hanging tension in the air slowly seeps into the air as she walks away.

“Y’know,” Rostnthal calls out, voice low and rumbling. “Ye’ still haven’t told us where we’re goin’. Or anything else of substance, really.”

“Yes,” She says as she hoists the barding onto one of the birds. She glances over her shoulder, eyes dimly glowing with an unnatural, cold light in the shadow of the brim of her cap. “I am aware.” The words are biting, dismissive.

“D’ye intend for us to go into whatever trouble is brewing blind?” His tone is calm and grim, his one, good eye locked on hers.

“I do.” She returns his gaze, ironclad.

“An’ if that means things get bloodier than they ‘ad to?”

“It won’t. I can’t protect you on the battlefield. Not in my condition.” She turns away, leading the chocobos to the cart’s front. She clips their barding in, the ‘coos’ and ‘kwehs’ of the birds giving her occasional pause to double check her work.

“So you won’t be there.” She says without turning. “I’ll be leaving you and the birds out of danger. When my student finds you, you’ll take him to Dragonhead.”

“Wait, what?” Hilda pauses halfway between bites, eyes narrowing. “I came out here to help, not to be a damned taxi. You’re not traipsing off on your own, ‘specially not after all your talk about this fucker who’s hunting you.”

“You want to help?” Vara’s grip on the wood tightens, words turning venomous. “Then I’ve told you how. You want to die? Then go on, follow me after we part ways.”

“Oh, that’s rich.” Hilda’s tone sours, “What’s your deal? We went over this on our first day out, and now half a week in you’re changing your tune? We know it’s dangerous, we get it.”

She sets her half-finished meal aside, standing up. Her hands come to rest on her hips, Rostnthal’s eye moving to rest on her.

“We signed on for this. We knew it’d get bloody, we knew it’d be a close thing. Y’think we’ve not learned to read you? That we were blind to what we were getting into?” She says, defiantly staring down at Vavara.

“So you’re going to ride in and save the day? Vanquish the bad man with your shiny gun and sporty marksmanship? You think you have what it takes to stand against a man who’s decided he’d rather be a demon?” Vavara takes a deep, steadying breath. There’s something about the question which makes Rostnthal’s hairs stiffen. The skin on the back of his arms and back prickles. He’s still watching Hilda, a blooming anxiousness slowly taking up more space in his chest. He pushes the feeling down.

“Wouldn’t have stepped up if I didn’t think I could help” Hilda says, “An’ I may not be some vaunted champion of the realm like those you’ve been keepin’ the company of, but I-”

“You sound like a child. Too busy playing hero to see the danger you’re in.” Vavara’s chiding words cut through her momentum.

“What do you believe you are wagering? Your life? That in failure, you would die?” Her laugh is a single, wrenching cough. “This isn’t a battle of life and death. I’d sooner shoot myself in the head than allow any of those ‘vaunted champions’ to face him. Even the Warrior of Light, no especially the Warrior of Light.

“He does not kill. He captures. And those he captures become another one of the Empire’s experimental weapons. You would not die, you would become a monster to be sicked on your allies, your friends, and your loved ones.

“So I will face him alone. And you two will ensure an innocent boy does not become a monster because my past came to call. And if after hearing that, you still want to be the hero? Fine. You can be like all the others before you and die like one, too.” Her voice nearly chokes at the end. Shoulders tense, she pushes out a hoarse, whistling breath.

“I’ll do what I do best. Survive. And whatever I have to do to make sure he gets through this too? I’ll pay that price. Worry about yourself.”

“Vavara.” Rostnthal says, leaning in. “What’s so important about this kid that yer so concerned about ‘im getting captured.”

“Nothing. He’s just-” She begins, only for him to hold up one hand to silence her.

“Ye’ never go this far ‘just because’. I’ve seen ye’ in the ‘eat of battle. Cuttin losses ‘as never been somethin’ yer averse to. Even with lives. So if this kid is a hazard to himself more than anyone else, I reckon ye’d try and save him, sure. But to be willin’ to train and tutor a complete greenhorn, let alone throw yerself into the fire for ‘im?? Doesn’t add up.”

He waits. His eye locked on her back, her greying, braided hair shifting with a breeze. Hilda glances between the two, silence bubbling and steaming with tension.

“He is Blessed.” She speaks with a hushed admission, her voice accompanied by an undercurrent of choked, hissing metal.

“And from my observations, he has an aptitude for its power rarely seen. But he is young, foolhardy. I took him in because he otherwise would have found the Scions. And I refuse to see them make another martyr.” She glances back to the other two, over her good shoulder.

“His power will invite controversy and challenge, especially if he cannot wield it. And should Llain capture him, the prospect of an anti-eikon weapon imbued with the power of the Echo is a looming threat I cannot risk. If he can wield the Echo, if he learns how to use it to reinforce his sense of self and being, then he would retain his sanity through any kind of augmentation. Any kind of torment.” Her hand reaches up and rests flat against her chest, claw-tipped fingers scraping against the cloth and leather of her coat.

“His soul could reside in even steel and crystal, and be unharmed by the process. But if he is captured before he learns to understand and wield the Echo, he could well become a weapon of terrifying power. An incarnation of death made manifest in steel and ceruleum.”

“I refuse to be the mother of death.” She says, softly, almost-inaudibly.

Rostnthal opens his mouth to speak, but the glare he receives from her in return stifles him for a moment.

“None of that changes what you must do. I trust you enough to determine your own path, if you will not heed my warnings. I will tell you what you need to know, even if it is not all you want to know.”

“No, it does change what we need to do. Whether you think so or not.” Hilda says, her confidence returning.

“That kid. What’s his name?” She asks, eyes fixed on Vavara’s.

“Tahve’ir.”

“Well, he’s going to need a teacher still, by your tone. So getting him out isn’t enough. I’ve got to make sure you both get out.”

“And if you can’t?” Vavara says as the two share a long, grim stare.

“Then I get him out, and come back for you. You said he doesn’t kill, and I doubt he can make it back to Garlemald in a single night. So, we get Tahve’ir out, and if you get caught in the meantime, I’ll run back and get you out in the night.”

“Nah.” Rostnthal’s voice rumbles softly, quietly. “Ye’ ain’t got experience with that kinda work. I’ve ran with the yellow jackets and the like, bustin’ slave rings and smashin’ smugglin’ ops. If she gets caught and we have to pull out, I’ll go. An’ you’ll take the kid.” He looks towards Hilda, a confident spark in his eye.

“Alright. Best not mess it up, y’old drunkard.” Hilda says, she cocks a nervous grin and playfully jabs his arm. He just chuckles grimly.

“So you won’t heed my warnings.” Vavara’s voice is distant, a kind of shrill, haunting whistle riding under the injured voice. “It always happens like this.”

“Chin up.” He says, crossing the distance between himself and her in a few steps. He drops to one knee, and rests one hand on her shoulder. He grips her softly, confidently.

“I’m not ignorin’ what ye’ said. We can’t win in a direct fight? Then we’ll just have to run ‘im ‘round the bush. Keep ‘im guessin’. Keep ‘im dazed. We’ll work on strategies on the way there.” He takes a deep breath, and then stands. He climbs into the driver’s seat.

“Have faith.” He says, patting the birds with a solid, steady palm. “‘Ave faith, an’ all will be well. Besides. Yer not meant t’look so glum. Doesn’t suit yer’ image. Times like these, a snarl’s better.”

She just takes a deep breath, steadies herself, and nods.

She jumps up into the back of the cart as Hilda finishes dumping the last bits of the kettle, and scooping her bowl back up into one hand. The dinnerware sack lands in the back with a cataclysmic, chaotic crash.

As soon as her boots are fixed upon the wood, Rostnthal whips the reins and the birds kick up dust as they run.

The sun sinks back low in the sky again. Pale-red light streaks across the untamed mountains between Ishgard and Ala Mhigo.

A small shack with a sprawling, chaotic garden sits on a low, narrow plateau. Heavy, metal boots scratch into the wet, snow-melt fed earth. A man with sandy skin, a straight back and strong shoulders stands at the edge of the homestead. His hair is neatly, painstakingly pulled into a long, salt and pepper braid. It rests on his armored pauldrons, and hangs down to his waist. His eyes, a gilded, ember orange, take in the small, humble abode.

In one hand, he holds a thick, angular blade. It’s gunmetal edge reflects no light, despite the bright morning. Coarse and rough, like a painted, sharp thorn of ink clutched tight.

In the other, he holds a stark, shining revolver. It’s pearly white metal casts myriad colors onto the ground around him, and up onto his own blackened platemail.

In the light of dusk, his aura shines bright and ethereal around him. Dancing, half-there reflections in intangible glass.

He takes a deep breath, and cracks a cheery grin His shadow stretches over the gardens in the evening light. He can smell the faintest hint of ceruleum in the air.

“Finally. Progress.” His smile is all teeth and ambition.

#ffxiv #ffxiv creative writing #aegis' writing archive #hilda the mongrel #rostnthal the reborn #Vavara Ashenheart #vavara kir vara #llain rem corvis #ok so i was Not Expecting the last part to get seen at all and then uh #then it got seen by someone who i respect and all of a sudden it got a small handful of notes and reads #gave me the motivation i needed to get this to a point where i'm comfortable enough to post it #i'm also genuinely a little more confident in this portion of the exercise #not because i think it's any better?#cuz honestly not a lot happens #it's just setting up the big climax as best as i can so that it has some weight.#but when i read through aloud and silently during editing it all flowed much better #and that was my biggest self critique of the last part was that certain parts just would not flow at ALL #i also feel i captured Vara's cold dismissive tone better here #she's not a necessarily bad person but she's definitely Not Nice #also just for mobile formatting using the double dashes to try and signal line breaks will hopefully help make it more legible in general #insert boilerplate 'i hate this formatting on this site' here #anyways thanks for hearing me rant and for supposedly reading #means a lot to me #have a lovely day fuckers

2 notes · View notes

laurazepamwrites · 4 years ago

Text

The Chemicals between us ~Ch.8

The Orca landed with a bump on the outskirts of a dense forest not far from Bryansk. The landing jerked Junkrat awake and his nose wrinkled from the strong smell of coffee brewing.

‘Fuck is that?’ He asked groggily, using Roadhogs frame as leverage to sit up straighter, his long limbs cracked as he stretched.

‘That's the smell of four o’clock in the morning princess.’ McCree replied. ‘Want some? Might not get another chance for a while.’

‘Ta.’ Junkrat stood up and gave Roadhog a slight kick awake and got a curse for doing so. McCree handed him a mug as Morrison came down from the cockpit. ‘I want everyone prepared to move out soon, make sure you all have your communicators on and make sure they work. If they don't and you get caught out you’ll be on your own. Everyone move your own weapons from the cargo hold, once done we head to the compound. Genji and Zarya will meet us outside the perimeter.’

Ana placed her empty teacup down. ‘I will scout ahead and keep watch for signs of danger. Plans can go wrong and I want to see trouble before it happens.’

Morrison nodded in agreement. ‘Go ahead, be careful and contact when you reach the meeting point.’ Ana gave him a quick salute and headed down to the cargo hold.

‘Is Athena good to go?’ Morrison asked Winston.

The large Gorilla looked up from his computer and adjusted his glasses. ‘As well as can be but we won't know for certain until we hit Talons cyber defences.’ Morrison grunted and looked towards the Junkers. ‘Are you ready for this?’

Junkrat giggled ‘Fucking born ready mate.’ as Roadhog gave a slight nod of his head. Morrison frowned ‘Final warning Fawkes..if you do anything to jeopardize-’

‘Yeah I know, I’m dead and there's plenty here to do the deed. Just fucking chill alrite mate? Me n Hog will play our part no worries.’ Morrison narrowed his eyes and studied the junkers before placing the mask of Soldier 76 upon his face, the red visor shone a sinister red. From one of the windows he glanced Ana heading into the forest. ‘Everyone get ready’ He said ‘We move out in 10 minutes.’

The walk through the forest was slow going and none too easy with the dim light and dense trees making it difficult for Hana to maneuver her Mech, often resorting to taking a longer path to find a clearing big enough. The suggestion of demolishing a path or shooting through the trees was quickly shut down. Junkrat tread carefully over thick roots protruding from the ground and lightly jumped in the tracks made by the large Mech as Hana was once again forced to find an alternate route, he took a deep breath in and revelled in the new smells and freshness of the air. Fuck it felt good to be in the open. Hana grinned at him from her Mech.

‘Hey having fun?’

‘Too right! Forgot what trees look like.’

Hana rolled her eyes and laughed ‘You can see trees from the cliff at base.’

‘Yeah but not these..’ Junkrat gestured vaguely ‘Spiky ones? Got a funny smell.’

‘Pines.’

They continued walking and trudging through the forest, Junkrat glancing so often towards the group and particularly Roadhog just to make sure he was still there. He got a pang of anxiety when a dense group of trees blocked his view and he lost sight of him. What in that time Morrison shot him? Or Talon where secretly following them? The sudden thought made him glance behind him and scan his surroundings..really should of left some traps. He breathed a sigh of relief when the trees cleared slightly and he found Roadhog, he had barely heard Hana speaking to him.

‘Huh?’

‘I asked if you are okay?’

‘Err..yeah. Yeah im great! Why wouldn't I be! Not long till I get to blow shit up!’ He gave her grin to reassure her and himself. Hana gave him a sceptical look, yet to her credit and his relief she let it slide and returned the smile. ‘Thanks for keeping me company.’

‘No worries, gives me more time to be out here before we go back to the lock up!’

‘Theres gotta be something you like there.’

‘Oh sure, regular grub, running water annnd now I get me own workshop!’

‘ Ahem!’

‘ Yeah sure you and Lu are alright I guess.’

Hana giggled and stuck her tongue out at him. ‘You're a jerk but youre alright, hey look! There's a clearing, lets catch up!’

Roadhog watched as Junkrat and Dva approached them, not speaking until Junkrat was once at his side. ‘All good?’

‘Yep, all good.’

‘Not gonna do anything stupid I hope.’

‘If I do its by accident.’

Roadhog grunted ‘Don't be impulsive.’

Junkrat laughed ‘When have you known me to have any control over that.’

‘Mean it Rat..be smart about this.’

Junkrat scoffed at him and rolled his eyes as Morrison signalled that they were close to the first point. Sure enough in the distance stood Ana, Zayra and Genji waiting on them.

‘Are we clear?’ Morrison asked on approach.

‘As Well as can be, time is now against us though. The first patrol is in less than thirty minutes.’ Said Genji, glancing towards the large Mech.

‘Hey its not my fault the stupid trees were so close together!’ snapped Hana, rather defensively.

‘Still think its bad idea to have those two here.’ Grunted Zarya nodding towards the Junkers.

Junkrat scoffed ‘Really? Pick your fucking time to have a moan ya fucking pink Juggernaut!’

Zarya laughed ‘Oh ho! Those brave words from someone I can snap in two with my little finger.’

Roadhog stepped forward ‘Try it.’

Morrison jumped in as Zarya stepped forward to the challenge. ‘Back down!’ Morrison barked at Roadhog and turned to face Zarya, ‘This is neither the time or place. That goes for everyone. I will not have childish bickering when we need to depend on each other in the field. Am I clear?’

Zarya's lip curled in contempt but she nodded in agreement then Morrison looked to the Junkers. ‘Oi I didnt fucking start it!’ Junkrat protested looking offended. Roadhog gave him a shove and muttered something, ‘Fine fucking crystal alright!?’

Convinced the matter was at rest for now Morrison continued. ‘Team A get ready, once our target hits our marker we strike. Winston, Torbjorn, prepare your equipment, once that patrol is eliminated we advance on the gate then it's down to you to get us in. Everyone else know their positions and objectives?’ There was a collective murmur of confirmation ‘Good, then let's begin.’

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

Dimitri Ivanov took the last drag of his cigarette and tossed it, the smoke drifting lazily into the early morning air. He heard the command to move and he snorted and spat on the ground. He fucking hated mornings. He was a military man during the Omnic crisis and fought in many battles, a well seasoned soldier with a large count of dead omnics to his name just like his comrades. Dead and alive. He had new comrades now, him and four other surviving men and women from his old unit. After the war their government had hardly given them anything to live off, their homes had been destroyed and like thousands upon thousands of others they had nowhere to go, no living to make. Until one day he was approached by a man, a man with an opportunity which promised work and security. An opportunity that promised a better world for everyone. A world built for the strong by the strong and he was proud to serve, proud to serve Talon.

The patrols around the compound was easy work if but boring. He had been stationed here for a month now and the most exciting thing to happen was a stray dog getting too close to the fence. At Least it confirmed the turrets worked. The only people they saw where the trucks entering and leaving and the drop ship that came last week. He trudged along with his patrol and slung his gun back over his shoulder, reached into his pocket pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, his nearest comrade nudging him as he did so. Dimitri shrugged his arm away and took a large inhale of smoke.

‘What problem?’ He said, smoke exhaling through his nose. ‘Nothing out here but us and birds. Relax Anatoly my friend..nothing to shoot at us out here-’

He turned in confusion as his comrade suddenly disappeared from his side and slumped to the ground. The rest of the patrol stopped and came to his aid. ‘He sick?’ One asked. They took his dark balaclava off his face, only then realising that his throat had been sliced open.

The patrol leader shouted orders as Dimitri struggled to reach for the gun across his back and frantically scanned the dense forest, he felt a rush of wind behind him and heard the thud of another body falling, someone fired wildly at nothing. He barely lifted his gun as he felt a hard slap to his chest, followed by another, the cigarete dropped from his mouth, smoke and blood trailing past his lips. He fell hard to the ground and the last thing he heard was the sound of bullets hitting their targets. The patrol was dead before they even realised what was happening.

Morrison surveyed the surrounding area waiting for a sign of the compound being alerted to the attack, a moment passed with only the sound of birds in the trees, convinced the first wave was successful he signalled for Team B to advance to their position. Winston and Torbjorn led the way and found a vantage point just below the crest of a hill overlooking the compound giving them high ground and cover. They both quickly got to work setting up a field computer as Ana scoped out the area with her Rifle. ‘Four turret droids on the gate’ She relayed back to Winston. He nodded and quickly typed on a small keyboard, lines of code flashed across the monitor in front of him as Torbjorn adjusted a signal booster. ‘If Athena can’t get in I modded this enough to send a pulse through every droid in this place..will only last a minute or so but may give us a much needed window.’ He said as he worked.

‘We might not need to use it.. hmm that's odd.’ Said Winston, his brow frowning at the screen.

‘Is there a problem?’ Asked Jack, coming to inspect the monitor.

‘I'm not sure Commander, I’m in their system but..’

‘What is it?’

‘It was too easy, almost like I was let in. I’m familiar with Talons cyber security but this is..well a child could have accessed it.’ Winston gave a slight cough ‘A..er..very smart one atleast.’

Torbjorn laughed ‘Well surely that's half our job done?’

‘Maybe what they have inside is not worth the protection?’ Offered McCree.

‘It’s enough to have guards, turrets and officials. It's important.’ Stated Ana ‘But Winston is right Jack, this could be a trap.’

‘If it was a trap the perimeter guard would have been prepared for us. Talon are arrogant, they don't expect an assault. Winston, shut down those turrets.’

Winston looked toward Ana who gave a slight nod despite the frown on her face, sighing he continued typing on the keyboard as Ana looked through her scope. ‘And..that should do it’ He said looking up.

Everyone waited and looked to Ana as she surveyed the gate, she smirked slightly as sure enough one turret slowly stopped moving, followed by another and another until each one had stopped.

‘Have they noticed?’ Asked Genji.

Ana looked back and smiled, ‘None the wiser.’

‘Accessing perimeter turrets now.’ Said Winston, tapping further instructions to Athena ‘And..we are in! Perimeter and gate security disabled Commander, Captain.’

Jack cocked his weapon and turnt to his team ‘Everyone in position and remember your roles! Advance!’

#meihem #overwatch #fanfic #junkrat #jamison fawkes #mei ling zhou

3 notes · View notes

victorianoir · 5 years ago

Text

The Detective and the ManFatale, Part 4

Onward!!!! Part 4!!! The end of the ManFatale arc!!!! If you’re like “WTF is this?” you can read all of it by going to my MASTERPOST for The Detective and the Tech Guy. If you want to read this chapter on fanfiction.net, you can do that by clicking >THIS<.

Enjoy!

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

He'd just had to steal a parking spot from a little old lady who was just barely able to see over her steering wheel, and he felt bad about that, he really did. But it meant he was able to catch up to Sarah fast enough to be able to see her enter the office building she'd told him about earlier.

Just like she'd said, the building was off of Melrose, in SoHo. But he didn't follow her inside. Instead, he moved behind a short palm that was planted in a courtyard off to the side, complete with benches and planters. He leaned against the trunk of it and stared at the entrance.

He was old hat at this now, after a few days of tailing that asshole Fake Cartwright. Robbie. Pfft.

Maybe tailing his girlfriend while she was working wasn't the greatest thing he'd ever done in their relationship, granted. And she would probably be so mad at him if she knew he'd gotten in his car and followed her as best he could without getting too close, knowing she was way too smart to let herself be followed as closely as he wanted to. He'd nearly lost her a few times even, but he'd gotten back on track eventually, not wanting to be directly in her line of sight because she was a damn detective and she knew what his damn car looked like.

But it scared him to death hearing her yell, the dial tone…Seeing those papers scattered over the floor as though she'd had the file in her hand when Not-Cartwright had broken in, grabbed her, and yanked her out. God, the things he'd been unable to keep himself from imagining on the way there.

And then when he saw she was safe, when he held her in his arms, having to watch her leave again to go someplace potentially dangerous, and with no cell phone, no way to contact him, or more importantly, the police. That mean Detective Casey guy. God, that guy was a jerk. But at least he'd be able to back Sarah up if she called him, if she was in danger.

So Chuck had done the only thing he could think of to make sure she was okay. He'd followed her. He did have a cellphone. And a vested interest in her safety, damn it.

And he was going to watch those doors like a hawk. If this Jerald Brown fellow wasn't the upstanding tech guru Chuck had always figured he was in spite of never meeting him face to face, Chuck would take him down himself. He'd played flag football in junior high P.E. He knew what he was about.

He waited, waited…waited some more…

Until he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. He ducked back behind the palm tree as best he could and watched as the man he now knew wasn't Robert Cartwright strolled up the sidewalk towards the building, in his off-white suit, pale pink tie, suede shoes. A chill went through Chuck as the man stopped and took his sunglasses off, peering up at the very same building Sarah had just gone into to meet the man this imposter hired her to investigate.

His phone was in his hand immediately. He didn't have a direct line to Detective John Casey, but all he had to do was press three numbers.

There was no reason why this man should know what was happening in there. There was no reason why this man should know about this building in the first place, unless…well, unless he knew. Had he followed Sarah, too? Or had he followed Brown?

How did he know?

Oh God. God, Sarah didn't have her cellphone. And now he was going up the steps. If Chuck followed him, he wouldn't be able to stop him. This man was a seasoned criminal and possibly a killer. He definitely had a weapon.

God, he was opening the door.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

"There's a woman being attacked inside of an office. A man went in there and he's attacking her. He has a weapon." He gave the address, told the operator she needed to hurry, and he hung up again.

It killed him, absolutely destroyed him, to move away from the building. He felt like he was dying as he spun on his heel and sprinted back to his car. He was leaving her in there, alone, and he was so terrified he was on the verge of a breakdown. He was angry with himself, sick with himself, and still he got into his car, turned it on, and with only a half glance back at the building his girlfriend was currently inside of with an angry, potentially murderous conman, he sped away from her.

God, he hoped he was doing the right thing. He hoped to any deity that was listening that he was doing the right thing.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Sarah's hand twitched automatically, ready to draw and put this imposter on the ground with a hole in his chest, but before she could do anything else, there was a loud bang and the arm of her chair exploded in splinters.

She yelped and fell out of the chair onto the floor, holding her hands up, her life having just flashed before her eyes.

That had been an extremely precise shot, not meant to hurt her…a warning that he would hurt her if she gave him any sort of reason to. He'd just missed her but she had scratches on her wrist and the back of her hand from the splintered wood exploding next to her.

"Stand up, kick your gun over here, Miss Walker," he demanded coolly, the South African accent gone. His American accent sounded practiced, too, however. "And then keep your hands in the air. You move wrong and I'll shoot you between the eyes. I've got nothing to lose now. Don't think I won't shoot a pretty girl…"

Sarah stood up and carefully went into her holster, pulling her gun out, setting it on the ground and sliding it across the tile floor to the conman.

"You stand up, too, ya fat fuck," the imposter said to Brown, reaching behind him to shut the door as much as he could with how he'd broken the handle getting in.

The private investigator and ex-Pinkerton detective felt anger start to rise inside of her. Not only did this fucker take a shot at her, he was going around calling good men 'fat fucks' too? She clenched her jaw, unable to help herself.

"You think you're a big boy now that you have that gun pointed at us," she said, keeping her hands up. But God she could feel that knife at her hip, and the ones strapped to her thigh and her fingers itched for them. But the only safe thing to do was to throw verbal barbs at him, so she kept going. "You can insult Mr. Brown when you've got a gun trained on 'im, but I bet just a few days ago, you were kissing his ass, weren't you?"

"Who the hell do you think you are, bitch?" She narrowed her eyes dangerously. "Sarah Walker, private investigator. Without those legs, you'd be working at an Abercrombie & Fitch spraying perfume at teenagers."

She inwardly smirked. He might be a dangerous conman, and a smart enough criminal to have gotten away with his ruse for this long, but he hadn't done his homework apparently. He had no idea she'd been a Pinkerton detective. He had no idea whom he was dealing with.

"You picked the wrong P.I. to hire, Cartwright," Brown said, his voice a little shaky as he stood behind her, still at his wife's desk. "She's not just good at her job, she has a moral compass, and a nose for sniffing out criminal lowlifes."

"I did all right, didn't I? Who's standing here with the gun?"

"What are you gonna do?" Brown asked, seeming to gain a bit more confidence now. "Kill us?"

"Yes, actually. I am. Nobody knows we're here." That was true, Sarah thought miserably. Chuck only knew that she'd gone to an office building in SoHo off of Melrose. There were a handful of them. And he'd have no way of knowing if something bad was happening to her. God, she wished so hard for his paranoia, his idiotic jealous paranoia, that worried crease he'd had between his eyebrows…Please, Chuck… Maybe she could telepathically project terror at him and he'd feel something. They were close enough, emotionally bonded, weren't they? She'd never been so connected to anyone else in her entire life. Wasn't that how that weird crap worked?

Please, please, please, Chuck…

"What did you do with Cartwright?" she asked. If she could just get him talking, she could stall whatever it was he meant to do with them.

"I didn't touch the rat bastard. It wasn't me," he groused. "Wish it had been. He was a lousy piece of shit by all accounts, swimming in his money, an asshole to everyone, greedy."

"So he is dead, then. Who did it if it wasn't you?"

"He's dead. There was a storm, destroyed his boat probably. Found some wreckage where I was in Point d'Esny. Also found his body. Nobody else was on the beach so I took everything I could carry, took his body out onto the water, and dropped it with a bag of sand. Got rid of his boat altogether. Wasn't until a few days later I found out he was a Cape Town big shot. But he was a recluse, too. Nobody ever really saw him much at all. Perfect opportunity for me." He shrugged, and Sarah watched for any opportunity she might have to catch him off guard, but this obviously wasn't the first time he'd held a gun on someone. And she was sure this wouldn't be the first time he'd killed either…if it turned out he got that far.

And oh God, what would she do if he started shooting to kill?

"How did you even pull this off?" Brown asked.

"Easy. When the guy was alive and had less dead-bloat than he had when I found 'im, we looked pretty similar I guess. His IDs all worked long enough for me to forge new ones. Nobody asked any questions when Robert Cartwright showed up in Los Angeles for business. The checks all worked, the bank tellers all let me walk right in, the credit cards worked. I've made a fortune off of this guy, all because he was a shitty sailor."

He kissed the tips of his fingers.

"You're deplorable," Sarah said.

"Mmhmm. Deplorable enough to kill you two so I can get away with it all."

Brown cursed. "You aren't getting away with a damn thing!"

"I am. I've already destroyed any records that I was ever here. I've sold most of his African possessions, withdrawn every last cent I could from the banks. After I'm gone, they'll probably file a missing persons report." He chuckled and grinned a now twisted version of Alain Delon's smile. She wished she could apologize to the French actor for ever thinking he was similar.

This asshole wished…

ManFatale, Chuck had called him near the beginning of this damn job. She'd made fun of him then, but now she saw just how right he was. There was a good chance she was dying here today, in this office with the knitted pillows. Underestimating this bastard was her downfall.

"You don't think they'll dog your steps no matter where you go?" she asked then, starting to let anger overtake her fear. She liked anger better. It was better than giving in to despair, despair that she'd seen Chuck for the last time not an hour ago, climbing into his fuel-efficient car, after trying to make her take his phone. Maybe if she'd taken it, she could've secretly hit the emergency button on it.

What was he going to do?

What would he do if she died here today?

Oh, God…

No. Anger. Anger was better.

"I've covered my tracks."

"You haven't covered shit. The FBI, the CIA, the NSA, they've all got guys who find pieces of shit like you every single day. You aren't getting away it with no matter what you do to us," she hissed through her teeth.

The imposter angled his gun down suddenly and shot, sending a bullet clattering into the ground at her feet. She screamed and clasped her hands to her mouth, jumping away. He raised the gun and shot again, hitting the desk right next to her hip and she fell to the side, onto the floor. Brown knelt down behind her, a protective move, but this time the bullet that came from the imposter's gun was true.

Brown hit the tile hard, a hole in his shoulder as he cried out in pain.

Holy shit!

Now there was fear inside of her. Abject fear as she acted fast, grabbing Brown's hand and making him press it against his wound. "Just hold it…press down, you'll be okay…"

"Get up," the imposter growled at her, stepping closer. She ignored him as she tried to help the injured man. "I said get up!" he yelled this time, grabbing her by her hair and yanking her to her feet.

She heard sirens in the distance and she knew as his eyes darted to the side in momentary worry that this was her one and only chance to get herself and Jerald Brown out of here alive.

Sarah Walker, P.I. struck fast. She swung her left arm around, clamped her fingers around his wrist and pushed the gun away from her temple where he'd been holding it. He pulled the trigger, breaking the window behind her, and the sound of it startled him enough that she was able to bring her knee up and back and slam her heel right between his legs.

He yelled in pain as she snapped the arm that had the gun down across her knee, hearing the crack of his bone breaking and the clatter of the gun hitting the floor. She kicked it away as he fell hard onto his back and she crawled onto him, slamming her fist down into his face, over and over and over and over again until he put his non-injured arm up and begged her to stop.

Just then the door burst right off of its hinges, police officers racing inside.

"GET ON THE GROUND!" an LAPD officer barked, and in spite of the fact that he might not be talking to her, she crawled down onto her knees and put her hands behind her head. She didn't know who or what had brought the police here but she wasn't about to be shot for trying to explain right away when they were attempting to take control of the situation.

Once the yelling stopped and the police had clambered over to Brown who was still conscious but whimpering, an officer grabbed her by her arm and hoisted her up. "My name is Sarah Walker, private investigator. That man broke in while I was in a meeting with Mr. Brown and held a gun on us. He shot him. Tried to…tried to shoot me, too." She was breathless, and she realized that in spite of being in scenarios with guns, bombs, and other terrifying situations, this had been one of the closest shaves she'd had.

And she had a lot more to lose this time.

She had to press her lips together and blink a few times to keep the rush of terrified tears at bay.

"All right, miss. Just come over here and sit in this chair. Your name again…?"

"Sarah Walker," she murmured, trying to take deep breaths. "I own Walker Investigative Enterprises. I've-I've got a P.I. license."

The two officers exchanged flat looks. "A P.I., huh?"

This had been too traumatic for her to find the willpower to give them dirty looks for that.

"Get an ambulance here, we've got two men in need of medical attention," one of the cops said into their walky-talky. "One gunshot wound. Another with abrasions to the face, broken arm."

Sarah thought about how badly she wished she could've given him more abrasions to the face, and she thought maybe she was starting to feel more like herself now that the danger had abated. Though her ear was ringing bad from that gun going off so close to it.

"You're Sarah Walker, that's Jerald Brown…and who is this guy?" The cop gestured to Fake Cartwright.

Paramedics rushed in then, tending to Brown first and getting him lifted onto a gurney.

"A criminal," Sarah said. "If you look up Robert Cartwright, you'd find this man's picture. But he-he isn't Robert Cartwright."

"Huh?"

She explained the situation to them for the next three minutes, accepting the strong coffee one of them gave her, and the blanket the other one wrapped around her shoulders. She didn't know when she'd begun to shiver. And it wasn't from the cold.

As she realized she was just barely keeping from slipping into shock, suddenly there was a shuffling of people at the door and Detective John Casey was there, his hulking figure taking up the entire doorway practically. "Whatever she said about him, it's true," he said, pointing over her shoulder. "Cartwright's an imposter." He pulled his badge out as he walked into the room and flashed it at the officers. "I'll handle the questioning from here, officers."

They both nodded and moved away.

And that was when she looked up to see Chuck step out from behind the detective, his eyes finding her immediately.

"Sarah…"

"Chuck!"

She left the coffee and the blanket behind, surging to her feet just in time for his body to crash into hers, his arms so strong as they folded her up against him, so warm and safe and everything she'd needed the moment this had all ended.

Sarah felt her boyfriend's lips against her hair, and then her temple, and her cheek, and he just held her so tight. She didn't ever want to let go. Ever.

And she heard him curse, his hand coming up to brush over her hair. "Are you okay?" he asked finally. "Did he hurt you? I'll kill him."

"Maybe not the smartest thing to say in front of the LAPD, idiot," Casey grumbled from where he was standing over Chuck's shoulder.

She ignored him, though, burying her face in Chuck's neck and letting herself cry just a little. She'd been so scared she'd never see him again. So scared she'd never feel this. Or eat one of his waffles he made that were never thick enough or cooked as much as she wanted them to be because he didn't put enough batter in, and didn't leave it in the iron long enough. Because he was too impatient, like a little boy.

"I'm okay," she gasped out, trying to hold back still and not doing a great job of it. "I'm okay. I love you."

"I love you, too," he said immediately, holding her even tighter, pressing his lips against her temple and keeping them there.

She finally pulled back, letting him cup her face and kiss her properly, and then he kissed the remnants of the few tears she'd shed away. "What—How?" she asked.

"I…" He winced. "I was worried. Super, super worried. I had this weird feeling in my gut letting you drive off to this meeting with no cell phone or anything. So I…gah, I followed you. I know you—you probably…" He huffed at her impatient look. "You're right. Let's table that. I was waiting outside, 'cause I'm your man and I wanted to have your back in case things got cray. But then while I was waiting, I saw that fake-ass mother fucker walk up with his cheesy as hell B-List sunglasses and that shit-eating smirk, and I knew right away that you were in trouble." A smile began to grow on her face as she watched him start to get riled up now as he told his story. "I was going to run after him and strangle him or roundhouse kick him in the jaw or somethin' but then I figured I'd most likely get shot and you'd never forgive me if that happened. So I called 9-1-1 instead and got in my car to come find Cas—Casey—Detective Casey." He cleared his throat at the glare the older man sent him.

"You're insane," she breathed, swallowing another sob and throwing her arms around his neck, letting him lift her enough that her feet were dangling a few inches off the floor, and they stayed like that for long enough that Casey finally cleared his throat.

Chuck set her down and she resisted the urge to kiss him again, longing in her gaze as she peered up at him for a moment…And then she turned to John Casey and nodded.

"Yeah, well…S'a miracle we even got here when we did what with this moron driving like a fuckin' grandma."

"What?!" Chuck spun on his heels to face the LAPD detective. "That's not even true! I was going fast! Things were whizzing past my window!" He let go of her arm with one hand and mimicked swishing his hand back and forth past his head manically.

"Right. Sure. Walker, I'm gonna need you at the station. Your secretary here only gave me the highlights. He can't talk and drive at the same time." Casey turned and headed for the door.

"Are you serious right now?" Chuck asked, his pitch getting a bit higher. "Secretary? How many times do I—?" They both began to follow after him then, Sarah's fist twisted in Chuck's sleeve, pulling him along. "Oh. He's messing with me, isn't he?"

She heard the amused grunt from the cop as he pressed the button to call the elevator, and she saw the small smirk on his face. It made her feel so glad to be alive.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXO

It had only taken twenty minutes for Detective Casey to eject Chuck from the room where he'd taken them for questioning. She'd had to watch as he interrupted one final time—"Sarah, tell him about…"—then Casey's patience, which had been wearing thin already no doubt, snapped. He stood up, grabbed Chuck by his arm, and escorted him out of the room, shutting the door in his face.

She'd had to smirk inwardly at the cute, offended sounds of confusion that her boyfriend made until he was locked out on the other side of the door where he could no longer interrupt.

Casey'd finally sat down across from her again, and she'd told him every last detail she could, even letting him have the files she'd kept in her briefcase that she'd had during the meeting with Brown, in case he'd needed convincing.

"So what made you so sure of Jerald Brown that you ended up focusing most of your efforts on investigating your client, rather than investigating the guy he was paying you to investigate?" Casey asked, forty-five minutes into their meeting.

"Part of it was the fact that I spent three days tailing him, going through his background, his financial records, combing through his personal life, and I'd found absolutely nothing to make me think he was anything other than a good businessman, and a good man in general. Not that he was without faults, but none of it was illegal or reprehensible. No illicit affairs, no fraud, nothing untoward." She shrugged.

"And the other part?"

"Chuck insisted he was a commendable man."

Casey scoffed. "You took him at his word?"

"I always do," she said, holding her chin high. "He knows who is who in his own industry, and he's a commendable man himself."

"Don't get defensive, Walker."

"I did my homework. And on the other side, I had this guy who, for all intents and purposes, was very smooth, seemed to know just what to say to every question or comment I had during our meetings, and…this was the key…the more time I spent in these meetings with who I thought was Robert Cartwright, the more I got the feeling he wanted me to find something wrong."

Casey grunted, thunking a pen against his chin a few times, thoughtfully. Then he narrowed his eyes. "I get where you're going. Instead of wanting you to just check and make sure this potential future business associate was on the level, and being relieved when you kept coming back with confirmation that he was, Cartwright seemed like he was digging for some dirt on him instead."

"Exactly. It was sneaky. And it made me super suspicious."

"Hmng," Casey tossed the pen on the table and pushed his chair back. "Don't blame ya. That was pretty good work, Detective. Don't take this the wrong way," he started, which was always a stellar way for another person to start a statement, she thought wryly, "but I'm curious as to why ya didn't just take the money and let this lie."

Sarah crossed her arms and stood up from her chair, nibbling on her bottom lip. "I'm not that kind of P.I., Detective Casey. I want to make a living off of this P.I. business I'm building, but not at the expense of innocent people, and not to aid and abet criminals. I'm operating on the right side of the law."

"So no adultery cases, huh?" He grinned a bit lecherously and she glared at him.

"If someone comes in offering me the right amount of money to try to catch their partner with someone else, depending on the person and the case, I might accept. But what business is that of yours?"

"It ain't. Lighten up. Yeesh." He held his hands up defensively, one of the gestures that infuriated her the most when men did it at her.

"Is that all you need from me?"

"Yeah. But make sure to stick around for a week or so while we work on this case. We may need the FBI in on this if he's committed crimes like this before, and they'll be bringing the South African and Cape Town authorities in, I'm sure."

"I will," she said, getting up and walking towards the door. "Oh. Here." She came back and set all of the work she'd done down on his desk. "I'm sure you folks'll need this." He deserved the snarky smirk she sent him, and the look on his face told him he probably knew he deserved it, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud ever in a million years.

"Thanks. And uh…make sure you take care of that hand. Don't think I didn't see you trying to hide the scratches. Was that his face that gave you those?"

She looked down at the scratches on the back of her hand, and now on her knuckles from his face, just as Casey surmised. "Yes and no. His face, but also, he shot at the arm of the chair where I'd just been and the wood sort of exploded and caught me."

Casey winced. "You gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine. Just a little home first aid is required. Nothing deep."

"Good." There was silence between them then as she nodded and went for the door. "Walker."

She stopped and looked at him over her shoulder, her hand on the doorknob. "Yeah?"

"We've got officers watchin' him now where he was admitted to the hospital, and when they've set that arm and gotten his face fixed up," she noticed a particular thread of pleasure in his smirk at that, "they're takin' him to his own cell here where I'll question him personally while we wait for FBI to send someone. That is to say…you did some damn fine work."

She smiled. "Thanks. Oh. Did Jerald Brown…?"

"He's gonna be fine. I'll email you where they took 'im if you want to visit tomorrow. He'll be kept at the hospital for a few days."

"Good. And yes. Please do. Thanks."

He nodded and she stepped out of the room, finding Chuck sitting a bit dejectedly in what she thought might be a perp chair at the end of someone's desk. Thankfully, whoever's desk it was seemed to be gone for the day.

She gestured for him to followed her with a flick of her head and a smile when he lifted his chin from his chest and met her eyes.

And she clung to him as best she could while still being able to walk to the elevator.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

She was quiet the whole ride back to her apartment, curled up in his passenger seat, having kicked her heels off and pulled her legs against her chest, her forehead leaning against the window as she gazed out on the late afternoon street.

And the sun had finally set, the sky still light out but darkening by the time he pulled into a parking spot in her apartment complex. They'd left her car in free street parking where she'd left it before her meeting with Brown a few hours earlier and they'd get it later, tomorrow most likely. She hadn't seemed as worried about it as she was about finally going home, so he'd promptly driven her from the police station to her place with no stops in between.

Now they sat in the comfortable warmth of his car, the engine off, silence permeating…

Until Sarah turned to look at him, smiling softly, and then she reached out and took his hand, not looking away for even a moment as she breathed a quiet, "Will you stay with me?"

He felt everything inside of him crumbling and never in his entire life had he ever wanted to protect anything or anyone as much as he wanted to protect Sarah Walker. Not trusting his voice, still shaken up from what had nearly happened, he nodded vigorously instead, and she smiled a bit harder.

They got out and headed up to her apartment, his arm around her shoulders the whole way, and he used his key to let them in, turning on the lights for her as she tossed her purse onto the entryway table and kicked off her heels again, shrugging her jacket off.

It was then that he saw her hand. There were bloody marks on the back of it, cuts on her wrist, and red welts with dried blood and most likely bruising underneath on her knuckles.

Nothing else mattered as he made a beeline for her and gently picked up her arm, cradling her hand and wrist in his comforting grip. "Sarah…"

"I know, I know…but it's fine. I've had worse."

"You've let this go for hours."

"I've had worse, Chuck. It's okay. I'll just ice it—"

He shook his head vehemently and pulled her through her apartment to the bathroom. "You have first aid?"

"You know where it is from where you burned yourself on the coffee pot."

"Oh…oh yeah. Um…remind me, though."

Seeing blood on her hand, her own blood, knowing she'd been hurt, knowing she could have been worse than hurt, was starting to catch up to him suddenly. And he was trying so hard not to let her see. He didn't want her thinking he was going to be a basket case about her chosen profession. That every little cut she got made him crazy and sick with worry. But this had felt like a big deal. A really big deal. And he had no idea what would've happened if the police hadn't shown up, if he hadn't called them.

"Hey," she breathed suddenly, and he cursed himself a little, knowing he'd let it all show on his face anyway. "Hey, look at me." She cupped his face and forced his gaze to hers. Her blue eyes reassured him immediately and he had to resist the urge to melt into her, hold onto her for dear life. "Chuck, are you spiraling because of this?" she asked, presenting her injured hand to him.

He nodded, putting his hands on her hips to keep himself steady.

Her good hand stroked his jaw and his eyelids fluttered. "Please don't. I'm okay."

"Help me maybe not spiral by telling me where that first aid kit is and I can clean you up a bit."

"It's right here, in the cupboard under this drawer." She shifted to bump her hip against the drawer she was talking about. "But…before you do that, would you mind if I took a shower?"

He shook his head and leaned in to kiss her on the forehead, a slow, long kiss. He understood the request at a deeper level, but he wouldn't say it out loud. She needed some time alone after everything. She'd almost been killed, watched Brown get shot right in front of her, and had cops swarming her, and finally the questioning at the station and being trapped in the car with him as he drove her home.

"Thank you. It-It'll be a quick one." She slid past him, dragging her fingertips over his abdomen as she went to the shower and turned on the water.

"Take your time, baby. I'll have a martini ready for you when you're done." On second thought, as she gingerly started to unbutton her blouse, he waited for her to realize he was still there and turn to meet his gaze before he said it again. "Take your time."

Understanding dawned on her features and her shoulders drooped a bit. He thought her chin might have quivered and he just turned on his heel and left before he was tempted to gather her up in his arms and hold her some more. She needed to be alone for a bit, though, so he went into her kitchen and started preparing a few martinis, two to start with, one for each of them. He didn't know how many of these she was going to need, but he'd make her as many as she asked for.

And he waited, enjoying the texts Ellie had sent him throughout all of this, the one about Clara pushing herself up to sit for a few seconds before falling again. The look she gave her mom like she didn't know if she should cry or not. It warmed him from the inside out. And he'd been so cold before. Unable to get rid of that terrifying sensation he'd had when he'd screeched to a halt next to the office building, seeing the police cars haphazardly parked, lights still blinking, the ambulance there, someone being wheeled into it…

He'd seen it was Brown, that he'd been shot, and he tried to tear into the building, only to have Casey and two other officers have to grab onto him and nearly take him down to the ground. When they got him to stop, Casey barked, "He's with me", and he yanked on Chuck's tie, pointing in his face with a "Slow down, kid".

That was all it took for him to gain control, afraid this detective might knock him out altogether if he didn't take a breath. And he let Casey take point, shaken to his core until the moment he stepped into the room and saw his very own detective sitting there, alive, no bullet holes in her like the man downstairs'd had.

He felt a chill go through him as he stood there peering out into the courtyard of Sarah's building, watching an older woman take down a few shirts she'd hung on a clothesline and toss them into a basket. Her tabby cat made a figure-8 around her legs in the meantime, finally following her inside as she hobbled up the steps and into the building.

Chuck let himself get lost in everything for a few minutes, going through all of the worst scenarios that thankfully hadn't happened. Sarah was alive and well, currently in the shower, washing off the remnants of her harrowing ordeal.

He'd heard everything that had happened to her in Mrs. Brown's office while she told the grumpy detective—before said grump kicked him out. He supposed he couldn't blame the guy for it, though, because he'd caught himself interrupting too often. No matter how many times he apologized, he never learned, and his punishment was sitting out by himself for the remainder of the conversation.

But Sarah had been shot at multiple times, and every time Not-Cartwright had purposely missed her, his intent being to scare her. That made Chuck Bartowski angry. There was an extra level of pathology to lord your power over someone in that way, terrifying them before you kill them, making them suffer… It made him feel so disgusted, and then he thought Sarah must have come into contact with psychopaths like this guy before in her line of work.

She was an incredible bad ass, the coolest, strongest person he'd ever met. And he was sure no matter how often she'd come face to face with these crazy assholes, it didn't make being shot at any easier to handle, especially when it was so cruelly done to terrorize her. By the shakiness in her voice when she'd told them about him shooting her chair and then at her feet, and finally at the desk next to her hip, before sinking a bullet into Mr. Brown, the man she'd been attempting to protect, Chuck could tell it had gotten to her. Genuinely.

Maybe he shouldn't announce it in front of the LAPD, but deep inside, Chuck wasn't sure he'd be able to hold himself back from murdering that guy if he'd had a crack at him when he first got into that room and saw Sarah there, her face so pale, the blanket around her shoulders, the bun she'd had in her hair when he'd seen her last half pulled out… He'd discovered later that the man had grabbed her by her hair and yanked her up to her feet by it.

Chuck thought he'd like to do the same to him, but instead he'd pull his spine right out with one hard yank. Mortal Kombat style.

"Thought I'd bring the first aid kit with me because I already know you'll refuse to take no for an answer."

He spun on his heel, letting the curtain fall back into place and cover the window to see Sarah had wandered in, her step light like a cat's so that he hadn't heard her come in. Granted he might've also been a bit distracted.

But then she set the first aid kit on the table and frowned deeply. "What's wrong?"

"Huh? Wrong?"

"You turned around and looked like a rabidly angry gorilla or something for a second."

He just shook his head and sniffed in amusement. "It's nothing."

"Chuck…"

"I was thinking about what he did to you, and maybe imagining myself doing one of the Mortal Kombat fatality moves on him. That's all." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged, slowly wandering over.

She widened her eyes. "I don't know what those moves entail but you said the word fatality, so that sounds a little serious, buddy."

At least that shower had made it so she seemed a little more like herself. Less shaken, more settled. The almost-unnoticeable shiver she'd had before was gone.

"It is. I have to be honest with you, Sarah. Part of me is angry with myself that I didn't just follow him and body tackle him into the ground then and there."

Her eyes flashed, concern and even a bit of frustration in her face. And then she put her hand on his chest, her fingers curling against his shirt as she shook her head. "Chuck, don't say that. Please never do something like that. He had a gun. He would've killed you."

He clenched his jaw and looked away.

"I-I'm not trying to make it seem like you're weak or incapable, baby. I'm really not. Just—Listen to me. I'm trained in combat, I have extensive training and years of experience using guns. I had a gun with me, as well as the knives I always have strapped to me. Hey, look at me. Please." She put her good hand on the side of his face and pulled his eyes back to hers. "I was nearly powerless in there. He had me, Chuck. If he hadn't slipped, let his guard down for that one second…" Her voice drifted off. "My point is that someone trained, like me, could have easily died doing whatever it is you might've done in that moment instead of what you ended up doing." She stroked her hand through his curls. "Which was the right thing."

"I know." He gently slid his hand around her waist and pulled her a little closer. "It just felt…terrible. Watching him go in there, knowing you were about to have him burst in on you. And knowing now what he ended up doing, that you were hurt and Brown was shot. What if I could've stopped all of it?"

"What if you couldn't have but you tried anyway and ended up being shot yourself?" Her eyes searched his. He couldn't come up with an answer to that. "What would I do, then? What would I even do if you were shot, Chuck? I can't even begin to think…" She let out a harsh breath, shaking her head. And he held her tighter.

"I ran away from you. I left you behind."

"You saved my life," she said in a much steadier voice, her features hard, willing him to understand. "What you ended up doing wasn't just the right thing, Chuck, it was incredibly brave."

He winced a little. "It didn't feel very brave."

"You could've let your worry for me, your fear, overtake you and you could've run after him, tried to stop him, and ended up getting all of us killed…but instead you called the police, knowing that they'd have more of a chance of stopping him than you ever would. And you went to get Casey involved, which…" She paused. "Why did you get Casey?" She blinked, her brow furrowed as though the question had just struck her at that moment.

Chuck swallowed thickly. "I was afraid they'd believe the wrong person unless you had someone they trusted vouching for you. And I knew Casey would be the perfect person to be there for that."

She beamed at him so suddenly that his heart felt like an insane amount of weight had been taken off of it. And then she hugged him tightly, and he hugged her back similarly. "You're brave and brilliant, Chuck Bartowski."

He felt so much pride in that moment, hearing how proud she was of him, how grateful she was, how impressed she was, in her voice, feeling it in the way she squeezed him, kissed his cheek.

"And you're a bad ass and the best, Sarah Walker. So I guess we make a good pair. Maybe I can be your assistant."

"No," she giggled, kissing his cheek again and then pulling back. "I will let you take care of me, though."

"Oh, gladly," he said with as much warmth as he was capable of, and then he gently pushed her to sit in the chair at the table and went to grab a bowl, putting some warm water and soap in it, then wandering back with that and a cloth in hand.

He scooted close to her and let her drape her hand over the bowl as he silently cleaned the cuts that didn't look so bad now that she'd showered. She only winced a little at the cuts on her wrist when he was gently rubbing ointment over them, and then he wrapped a light bandage around all of it.

"I look like the bride of Frankenstein's monster," she said with a giggle once he finished.

"She wishes," Chuck answered, watching as Sarah turned her arm a bit to look at his work. "What?" he asked when she gave him a quiet, searching look.

"You did a pretty good job here, actually."

That made him smile. "Listen, I grew up with a big sister who's wanted to be a doctor ever since she found out what a doctor was. Do you know how often I got wrapped up in bandages through all the years I spent under the same roof as her?"

She laughed. "Was it often?"

"Often enough." He chuckled. "She got better at it when she was actually in med school and I guess I picked up some things, little tricks of the trade. Don't ask me to stitch a wound shut, though, because I will faint."

Sarah snorted. "That's cute."

"Is it?" he drawled dubiously. He got up then and straightened his back, feeling a few pops, then put the bowl away, the bandages and the first aid kit, and when he came back out, Sarah had finished her martini.

She held the glass up towards him and pouted a little.

"Another?" he asked, receiving a smile in return. He chuckled and took her glass, leaning down to kiss her forehead, then went back to the kitchen to make her another. "Hey, you want a flavor in it this time? Maybe some lime? I saw a lime in your fridge."

Sarah was standing next to him suddenly—those cat-like silent feet of hers—and he nearly jumped. "Sorry. Didn't mean to sneak." He shrugged at her wince. "You just…You've never put flavors in a martini for me before. It's always just been a traditional, perfectly dry martini. What's gotten into my Chuck?"

"If you want me to make it like I always do, I can." He shrugged again. She was looking at him steadily, that look of hers that saw right through him. And he sighed. "It has nothing to do with the martini, but-but I guess today sort of put into perspective for me that you're not…"

"What?"

"Immortal. Indestructible." His throat was dry then and he looked away, swallowing.

"Did you…think I was? Like some kind of comic book character?"

"No. Of course not." He sniffed in amusement. "But what you do is dangerous and it's something I'm going to have to come to terms with. I hadn't before this because I guess I…haven't had to yet. But I have to now."

"Chuck, I'm okay."

"I know you are. So am I. We're okay. And that's not something that's gonna change, no matter how many ManFatales try to take you away from me."

Sarah smirked at that and gave him a side-eye. "No fucking way anybody is taking me away from you. And vice versa," she added, pointing at him a bit threateningly.

"I didn't just mean romantically." He chuckled. "I meant…uh…you know."

"Oh." She sobered significantly. "That, too. And yeah…maybe this time we can try some lime in the martini. I have some pineapple slices, too. Maybe some of the juice…?"

"Splendid idea," he said, giving her a warm smile. And they stood side by side as he prepared more martinis for them to enjoy.

They eventually found their way to Sarah's bed, stretching themselves out over it and leaning back against her headboard. She'd since fallen asleep, her harrowing ordeal earlier on in the day knocking her out soon after she curled herself up on his chest.

He just held onto her, looking down into her face. She looked younger when she was asleep, so at peace, without any worries to speak of. But then his eyes latched onto her wrapped hand and wrist that was slung over his chest and he frowned.

She was a private investigator. And as awesome as it was, as hot as it was that he was dating someone so damn cool, he couldn't let himself forget how serious it was, too. How serious it could be. He'd never want her to give up what she wanted to do, who she wanted to be, so that he had better peace of mind when she went to work, the way the boyfriend of an accountant might. His girlfriend wasn't going to stop being a private investigator, whether he was awful enough to want her to or not.

And so…Chuck Bartowski was determined instead to support her. To be here on the hard days like today. To protect her when she needed him to. To bandage her cuts, hold her, make her martinis, and let her fall asleep in his arms.

Because being with Sarah Walker, P.I. was so much better than being with some accountant who sat in an office all day. The worry, the nerves, the adrenaline, and even the fear, were all worth it because she was worth anything and everything.

This was her, he realized, looking down into her face.

These cases with genuinely bad dudes wanting to do her harm because she was good at her job, because she was working to take them down, were all part of what made her…her. The danger, the chase, the high stakes…that was all part of her.

He loved her.

That included everything that made her who she was. That included this. And those moments of fear, the danger…

No matter what this career of hers brought them, this wouldn't ever change. He was ready for the bumps and bruises he'd get in the meantime himself. He was ready for the hurdles and hardships ahead. He thought he was ready for just about anything.

Because this was their life now.

And he wouldn't trade it for the whole universe.

5 notes · View notes