#found the line “this dryer is filled with the pieces of all the laundry i have ever washed” | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blooming-violets · 2 years ago

Text

[Under the Silver Lake, Sam x Fem!Character]

Summary: Sam relocates after the events of UtSL and stumbles into the life of a new, captivating woman with an enticing profession. He can’t seem to keep his eyes off her.

Warnings: 18+ smut, panty stealing, voyeurism and masturbation, porn making, use of the word “cunt” (I know some people don’t like that word so adding it to the warnings), mentions of a graphic suicide

A/N: Merry Christmas, @squiddtheekidd here’s some Sam smut for you. Kind of. He doesn’t actually fuck anyone in it. Except for himself. Sorry for the spoilers. ily I didn’t intend for this to be posted on Christmas but it happened that way and I can’t stop it. Santa has me on the naught list.

His new apartment was about half the size of his last one and lacked the artistic charm.

Four, stark white walls with light gray laminate, fake hardwood flooring and zero furniture. A vacant, rectangular void created to purge a person of all their quirks. Whoever thought gray floors and white minimalism should be the new trend deserved to be tarred and feathered. Most of the furniture at his old place came with the apartment. He had to sell the rest of his belongings when he left. Apparently when you don’t work or make any money, landlords don’t take it well when you can’t afford rent. In a last ditch effort to avoid homelessness, he sold nearly everything he owned and grabbed the first cheap place he could find.

That’s what Sam did best.

Like a parasite searching for a new host, he sought out someplace fresh to sink his teeth into and drain of life.

At least the skunk smell had finally worn off. That was a shining positive he couldn’t ignore.

One week spent at this apartment and he had only acquired an old, leather couch he found on the side of the road which he paid two homeless men five dollars to carry upstairs for him. One couch and a trash bag full of his dirty clothes was all that he possessed. As he stared at the crumpled bag sitting across from him, Sam took a deep breath and pushed himself off his ass. He might as well take advantage of the laundry room this building had.

The bag slung over his shoulder like a disheveled, depressed Santa Claus as he shuffled into the basement. The overhead light flickered a few times before finally illuminating the large room with a persistence, static humming sound. The smell of musty mildew hit his nose. There were four old washers against the far back wall and a row of dryers opposite them to match. A, once white, now yellowed ironing board was set up next to washers and a wooden bench, missing a few slats across the seat, was perched next to it all. It wasn’t much but neither was he.

Sam flipped his bag upside down to dump the pile of clothes into the wash. After putting in his cheap detergent, he attempted to turn on the machine, only to find none of the buttons working.

“Come on, you piece of shit,” he grumbled, slamming his fist against the side.

“That one doesn’t work.”

A scratchy, feminine voice filled the empty space behind him. Sam turned around, already putting a dazed smile onto his scruffy face, as he sought his sights on the woman. She was standing in the doorway with a purple laundry basket tucked under her arm. She looked vaguely familiar but he couldn’t quite place her.

“It’s supposed to have an out of order sign on it but the asshole kid from 3B thinks it’s hilarious to take it off.” She sighed, walking in further to claim a spot by the washer at the end of the line. “He also thinks it’s funny to stick gum under door knobs so watch out for that.”

Sam nodded, looking down at his feet, finding it hard to make eye contact with her, “Oh…okay. Thank you.” He started pulling handfuls of his clothes out of the broken washer to relocate them to the one next to hers. “I just moved in right next to 3B so I have a feeling I’ll be at the mercy of his attacks. I hate it when kids are assholes.”

“You moved into 3A? You must have gotten it for dirt cheap then.”

He blinked. The apartment was a lot cheaper than anything else on the market but he never thought to ask why.

Like she was reading his mind, she continued, “Yeah, the guy who lived there last, blew his head off with a sawed off shotgun. The thing is, though, was that he did it during the Fourth of July fireworks so no one heard the gunshot. Guess he was an old veteran or something. PTDS, probably. Anyway, his body laid there for the entire month. No one noticed he was dead until rent was due. By then his body was all gross because of the heat. Congealed and shit. He was starting to liquify. There were millions of flies everywhere. The smell was awful but, of course, no one does shit in this building to fix things. We thought it was a dead raccoon for a while until the smell got worse. They had to scrape him off the floor and his brains off the wall. No matter how hard they cleaned, they couldn’t get rid of the stains. I heard they threw some laminate tiles over the hardwood and painted over the walls to hide the red.”

Sam grimaced at the imagery she was providing him with. Now that he thought about it, the apartment did smell weird. Smells weren’t something he typically took much notice of though.

“But you get it for cheap so that’s a plus! Death for one person means financial help for another.” She flashed him a cheery smile, not at all bothered by the death talk.

“Why do you think I need financial help?” He asked.

She snorted and raised her brows like it was obvious, “You’re doing laundry out of a trash bag, moved into a blood covered apartment, and look like you haven’t slept in about two weeks.”

He chuckled to himself, “Okay, you’re right. I’m poor.”

“Who isn’t struggling out here? Welcome to LA. It’s a land of struggle and failure.” She bent over to put the last of her things into her washer and glanced up at him. A wave of perfectly sculpted hair fell over her right eye to block off half of her face from his view.

“Veronica Lake,” he whispered.

Her brows pulled together in confusion, “Excuse me?”

Sam cleared his throat and felt the back of his neck heat up in embarrassment, “Sorry, sorry. You just…you looked like Veronica Lake for a minute. You’re hair. My, uhm, my mother used to watch a lot of old movies. Veronica Lake was famous for her hair. It was straight at the top and wavy at the bottom and would cover one of her eyes. When you leaned over just then, your hair looked like that. Elegant and old fashioned and perfect…”

Her piercing eyes bore into him. He struggled to read her thoughts but that wasn’t unusual. He always struggled to read women. He couldn’t tell if she was insulted or charmed by his strange observation. Either way, he made a mental note to go home and jerk off to The Blue Dahlia later while thinking about her. She was beautiful. And so familiar. Not because her hair resembled the old Hollywood actress but for something else.

“Hey, are you planning on hanging around for a while?” She asked, ignoring his vacant stare as he struggled to remember her face.

He shrugged, “I guess so. I don’t really have anywhere else to go.”

“Want to do me a huge favor? I have a work appointment in twenty minutes. If you could pull my clothes out and throw them in the dryer when you switch over yours, that would be amazing.”

He nodded again, unable to say no to a pretty face, and gave her a smile, “Yeah, no problem.”

“Cool, thanks!” She flipped her perfect hair over her shoulder and picked up her empty basket. “I’ll see you around, 3A.”

“Sam,” he managed to call after her. “My name is Sam.

The sound of the washer’s alert buzzing jerked him from his sleep. Sam wiped the drool from his chin and blinked around, trying to remember where he was. He must have dozed off on the wooden bench. He didn’t remember falling asleep but he pushed himself off the hard seat with a deep groan. The back of his neck was killing him from his head flopping to the side while he napped.

Her machine had finished before his.

Sam looked around the empty basement and wondered what kind of work appointment she had to attend. What did she do for a living? How old was she? Did she have a boyfriend? He wondered what apartment she lived in. She was pretty, whoever she was. He wanted to run his hands through her wavy, Veronica Lake hair. The image of her head snapping back as he wrapped a fistful of those soft waves into his fist and drove his cock into her wet pussy flashed through his brain like a strike of lightning. He gave a sleepy smile. He wanted to fuck her. At least he had a goal now. He didn’t like feeling aimless and floaty. He needed to have something to do to keep his mind busy. Hopefully she would be that thing.

He pulled open the washer and scooped out an armful of her wet clothes then walked over to the nearest dryer to toss them in. This would give him Good Boy Points in her eyes. She would be pleased he was helping her out and doing as she asked. Maybe he could get a blowjob as a reward. If he knew what apartment she lived in he would even be willing to hand deliver all her dried clothes when they were finished. Fuck, he’d even fold them for her if she asked. It wasn’t like he had any money to spend on her. In order to win her over to his side, he’d have to charm her instead.

Another washer buzzed to signal that his clothes were finished as well. He scooped them up and dropped them into the dryer directly next to hers. Then he stood back and watched the hypnotic swirling motion as her clothes tumbled in circles through the heat. Round and round and round. So much purple and black. His drier resembled more of a mismatched rainbow of colors. Her’s felt darker and more mysterious.

A devious thought popped into his head then.

Sam sought his sights to the door. He couldn’t hear anyone coming and he was clearly alone. He quickly pulled open her dryer. The clothes came to a stop, sticking to the walls. Sitting directly on the top of a damp, black blouse was a simple, lavender thong. It was practically calling out to him. His eyes darted to the door once more before snatching it from the pile and shoving it deep into his sweatshirt pocket.

This was fine. This was okay. She wouldn’t notice one piece of underwear missing. She’d probably just assume the washer ate it. He lost his clothes all the time.

Sam stepped back, despite weighing next to nothing, the thong felt heavy as a rock in his pocket. His fingers slipped over the fabric. It was damp and cold, the heat from the dryer already evaporating. He wished he had stolen it before it got washed. He could have smelled her scent clinging to it. That was alright, he could make do with what he was given. The familiar, uncomfortable ache in his crotch returned. He tried to adjust the front of his jeans to better accommodate his stiffening manhood. Just merely possessing a part of her was enough to get him hard. He had to walk it off.

Despite nearing the beginning of Autumn, California weather remained the same. It was comfortably warm and sunny outside. The afternoon sky was a deep blue as he aimlessly strolled around his new apartment building. He hadn’t done much exploring yet. Not that there was much to explore. His mystery woman’s thong stayed laced through his fingers, hidden in the safety of his pocket, as he walked. His thumb ran over the small piece of fabric that covered her most intimate parts. It would have rubbed over her cunt anytime she moved. He pretended that he was fingering her tight folds instead of an article of damp clothing. He wondered what she would look like with her legs spread just for him.

A guttural moan stopped him dead in his tracks. Sam had wandered around to the back side of the apartments. Nothing but desert hills stood behind them. His ears perked up in the hopes of hearing that familiar noise once more.

A low, feminine whine, followed by a whimper, and then the sound of a man’s shuddered sigh.

He would know those noises anywhere. Someone was fucking.

Sam took a few steps back away from the building wall and casually inched closer to the source of the noise. Someone’s window was open. When he finally located the culprit, his heart leapt into his throat. The blinds were left wide open, probably due to there being nothing in the back of the building, and the window was open halfway so the intoxicating noise floated out to fill his ears. It was his laundry room girl. His Veronica Lake haired beauty. She was sitting on the floor of her bedroom, facing the window, between the legs of a toned, muscular man. They were both stark naked. He had her legs hooked on either side of his so he could keep them pried open. His fingers were buried deep inside of her soaking pussy. Even from the quick glance he got through the window he would tell how wet she was. The couple were sitting directly in front of a camera that was aimed and filming their every move.

Sam gulped, his erection springing to life with a force even he wasn’t used to. He stumbled back away from the window and ducked behind the nearest, half dead palm tree. If he wasn’t so skinny it would have been obvious where he was hiding but, luckily, he managed to fit nicely behind the trunk.

“Holy shit,” he whispered to himself.

They were filming a sex tape. Or a porn. Or livestream. Or something. This was her “work appointment”.

And then it hit him.

He knew exactly where he had seen her face before. She appeared in a porn he watched ages ago, the summer after he graduated highschool, when he still lived with his mom. Someone had been handing out vhs tapes at an underground party he once attended. He remembered thinking it was weird that someone was still using vhs. He took the mystery tape, of course. He never turned down free shit. He had to dig up an old player from a pile of junk in his mother’s garage to watch it.

The video started with a black and white title screen labeled “The Vampire’s Kiss”. It was done in the style of an old Hollywood movie. That would explain her hair style. She was embracing her niche role. She had worn a long, sheer nightgown and pretended to be asleep when a man with fangs crawled through her window. It was a silent film cued with title cards of vague, written dialogue to push the loose plot along. She was tied up by her nighttime stalker, her dress torn from her, and her body crudely displayed to the audience as the vampire sucked her blood. It looked real, too. Well, as real as an old style film could. She looked like she was really bleeding and that man was really drinking from her neck. Sam remembered jerking off to her black and white pussy almost every night that year. It wasn’t until his mother caught him one evening that she hit him over the head with a broom handle and forced him to throw out such filth. He moved out the next month but, sadly, lost the tape forever.

It was strange to see her in color now. This new film seemed to be much different than whatever pornographic art she made in the past. This looked less artistic and more straightforward. He wished he could remember her name. He peeked out from behind his tree to watch her work. The man was still fingering her. To be honest, he didn’t seem very good at it, but she was acting like it was the best thing she ever felt in her life by the way she was moaning. Sam could do better. He could make her really moan. None of this fake porn shit. He could make her scream if he wanted to.

Before he knew it, his jeans were unzipped and his cock was wrapped around her thong as he used it to pleasure himself. That should be him in there. He should be the one with her.

She shoved her partner’s hand away from between her legs and made him stand up. Sam watched as she better positioned him in front of her camera as she fell to her knees. The moment she opened her mouth to receive his massive dick, Sam slumped against the spiky tree bark as his knees went weak. He wanted to remember every single detail. This would go straight into his spank bank for the next few months. He had never been treated to such a live show before.

She looked remarkably like an expert at sucking a cock. Happy, even, like the feeling of her mouth being stuffed was everything she could have wanted. The man’s moans helped cover the tiny squeaks of pleasure coming out of his own mouth. He furiously beat his meat into her panties as he watched. She was such a little whore. Her long hair was tossed back and cascading down her smooth back. Her ass was sticking out from between her legs. It looked in desperate need of a face buried between her cheeks. Her entire body was responding with such vigor to the simple act of having a cock her mouth. It was like nothing he had witnessed. No woman had ever been that excited to give him a blow job before. Not even the ones he had paid to act enthusiastic. Her hands toyed with the base of the man’s cock and fondled his balls as she swallowed him whole. Sam nearly tumbled to the ground when he watched her hold the man’s cock against his stomach as she slowly licked up the veiny underside of his long shaft. Then she shoved him back onto the bed and climbed on top of him. She was completely in charge of this show. She called all the shots.

Her leg swung over his head and she arched her back as she lowered her dripping cunt onto his face. Her ass was perfect. Porn worthy perfection. She clearly chose the right profession. The noises she made the second his tongue dove deep inside of her were the most erotic thing Sam had ever heard. She bent down to resume her hungry need for his cock. This woman took to sixty-nining like a duck to water. A natural.

Her hips ground against his face. His mouth was full of her glistening, juicy pussy. She only sucked on his cock for a moment before she let out a whimpered moan. Her back arched as she rolled her hips faster against his mouth.

“Oh, I’m close,” she gasped. “I’m…oh…I’m…cumming!”

It was like he was watching a Goddess of sexuality emerge and blossom before his very eyes. Her orgasm was true magic. Naked and spread open on top of the toned man’s face, her body spasmed. Her wet, syrupy pussy crushing his head into the pillows. She tried to hold in her squeal of pleasure at first but nothing she could do could ever stop it from bursting from her lungs. Her entire body moved with rhythmic energy. Her eyes squeezed close almost as if she was in pain but the euphoric expression that softened her features proved the opposite.

Sam thought that would be the thing to push him over the edge. His balls felt tight and ached for a release. He could have finished then and quickly scurried off like the rat that he was but he held strong. The moment her orgasm subsided, she dived straight back to the man’s cock like she was positively ravenous for it. He never stopped licking at her pussy despite her orgasm, clearly helping to fuel her sudden greedy obsession with stuffing her mouth. She took him so deep down her throat. He was a large man and she swallowed him straight to the base, even giving off perfect gagging sounds as she did. She was a master of her craft and Sam was in love.

She gasped for breath as she pulled up from the depths back to the surface. A thick string of saliva connected her lips to his meaty head. His entire shaft was coated in her glistening spit. Her hands took up the stroking motion the second her mouth left so he was never unattended. She knew how to take her man. If that was Sam, he wouldn’t have been able to hold back. He would have shot his load down the back of her throat without a second thought but this man was more controlled than he could ever be. She took him back into her mouth after catching her breath, deep throating his entire cock. A flash of her eyes towards the window caught him off guard.

Sam froze.

She was looking straight at him. Not at the camera. At him.

He was caught. A deer in the headlights. He hadn’t even realized he was no longer hidden behind the safety of the tree. At some point, he had stepped out to get a better view. Now he was in full view of her window, his cock in hand and wrapped around a pair of her stolen underwear, as he was clearly furiously jerking off to her spectacle.

She paused for just a moment. Not enough to be noticed by her partner but to be noticed by Sam. With her mouth still stuffed, her lips curled into a smile. She held perfect eye contact with him as she bobbed her head back down on the man’s cock. Her hips grind harder against his face and another, smaller orgasm bursts through her body. She shivered, convulsing slightly, but not breaking eye contact. She knew he was watching and it only turned on her. It was Sam’s presence that caused her second orgasm.

He wasn’t just in love. He wanted to worship her like the Goddess she was. He would follow to the ends of the earth. He would lay down his life at her feet. He would be her slave for the rest of time if she’d allow it.

Her head plunged down again, the connection between them breaking. She was a wild cock sucker. The man under her could hardly keep up. His cheeks glowed from her gushing cunt coating his skin. She rode his face like she was nearing death and it was the only thing keeping her alive. She was aiming for orgasm number three. Sam could sense it. He only had her in his life for less than an hour and he was already learning her signs. Her animalistic sounds of pleasure filled his ears. He didn’t even care to hide it anymore. He was openly watching her now. In all his years of being a porn connoisseur, he had never witnessed anyone quite like her.

Her sneaky eyes were on him again. She was watching his hand, watching her underwear be used as a synthetic pussy, watching how he pleasured himself for her. It was as if she was urging him to cum with her. The three of them together. Her lips popped off her partner’s member as her body began the third spasm of the night. Her eyes stayed on Sam as she came. Her mouth hung open.

“Cum for me,” she whispered.

The man thought she was talking to him but Sam knew the truth as he read her lips. She was ordering him to cum. As her partner’s cock burst to life, spurting thick, gushing rockets up onto her chest, she broke her eye contact to quickly lean down to capture it in her willing mouth. His swollen cockhead snuggled between her lips as she drank his essence. At that moment, Sam pictured her mouth around him instead. He could practically feel her warm, wet tongue swirling around him.

And he came for her.

Breathy gasps and strained moans, he emptied himself into her stolen underwear, milking himself for every drop he had to give her. His semen was all for her. Her prize for being so good to him. He closed his eyes and imagined shooting it onto her face. He watched it drip slowly down her cheeks, her tongue darting out to lick up whatever morels she could reach, and he would lean down to crash his lips onto hers. He would hold her tightly in his arms and kiss her with the kind of passion he hadn’t shown to any woman since his ex left him for another man. He didn’t even know her name but he knew he would have her. She would be his.

Sam’s eyes blinked open. The bright, sunny afternoon felt a little more colorful than it had earlier. He held up her soiled underwear for her to see before slipping it back into his pocket. That belonged to him now. It was no longer hers.

He zipped his softening cock back into his jeans and turned to leave without giving her a second look. He could feel her eyes following him until he left the sight of her window. A smile danced on his face.

She would be the one to find him. He showed her his hand of cards and now it was her turn to play. She could choose to take him if she wanted. He was hers for the taking.

She knew exactly where he lived.

✨IF YOU ENJOYED AND WOULD LIKE TO SEE MORE, PLEASE GIVE THIS A LIKE AND A REBLOG! ✨ YOUR COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED. ✨

I have zero idea what kind of audience Sam will bring, if he’d bring in any at all, but this was fun regardless. I love that stinky freak.

117 notes · View notes

jinxxedwammys · 3 years ago

Text

In celebration of 100 followers I present to you

Wammy boys in oddly specific AUs I found on pinterest and stuff.

Warnings: Swearing (mostly in Mello’s part as usual lol)

"I mistook you for my best friend and jumped on your back in public and now I'm embarrassed"

🎂🍨🍦🍭🍮🎂🍨🍦🍭🍮🎂🍨🍦🍭🍮🎂🍨🍦🍭🍮🎂🍨🍦🍭🍮🎂

It was during the Kira case when L was closely investigating Light Yagami at To-Oh University that this extremely awkward encounter occurred. The sun was high in the sky, locusts and could be heard and cherry blossom littered the wide walkway leading into the school.

You had your heavy bag slung across your shoulders. It was filled with textbooks and papers (some of which you had forgotten to turn in) as well as a few personal items. You weren't really paying much attention to your surroundings until you spotted one of your male friends!

You hadn't seen him since the beginning of high-school. To say you were excited was an understatement. In your excitement you took a running jump onto his back knocking him to the ground. He let out a yelp and that was when you realized...

This man was NOT your friend.

"Oh my God I'm so sorry I thought you were someone else" you hurriedly said pushing yourself up and on your knees an apparent redness in your face.

He seemed to be unbothered for the most part, he turned to you, crouching in a sort of fetal position.

"It's alright I understand" He replied.

"No, no its not.. I'm an idiot I should have realized" you shoved your face into your hands covering how red your face now was.

"It is alright, I'm uninjured and it was an honest mistake" you frowned a little not entirely trusting his forgiveness, but this time, you took it.

He gave you a polite smile before standing up and helping you to your feet. He wished you a good day, and left, but not before sneaking a note containing his alias and phone number.

Mello

"I lost my little sibling Matt in Ikea and I need your help finding them"

🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫

"Fuck.... Shit... Motherfucker" You heard from the other side of the store shelf as you browsed through various decor items. This mystery person had been spewing profanities for the past five minutes. You sighed with slight annoyance placing the wooden model hand you had been staring at for God knows how long back, making your way to the neighboring isle.

"Hey, you've been cursing up a storm... what's going on?" You asked, hand on your hip awaiting a response. Mello looked up at you with a look of anger and exhaustion on his face.

"I'm looking for my idiot friend. He got hopelessly lost in the chair section and I've been trying to find him for like an hour now" He ran a hand through his hair pushing his bangs to the sides of his face.

"I can help you look for him!" You offered.

"You don't have to"

"I want to! I don't really have anything else to do, so it's fine. To be completely honest I don't know why I came here." He shrugged. "Oh my name's Y/N by the way"

"I'm Mello" He replied before setting off out of the isle leaving you to sprint a but to catch up. His pace was fast and he seemed to have some plan on how to tackle this, but you weren't exactly sure.

After what seemed like an eternity of silently weaving through the labyrinth of shelves and furniture displays, you spoke up.

"So... how old is your friend?"

"We're both 19... His name is Matt." You kept walking until he stopped directly in front of the office showroom section.

"He might be here, so keep an eye out for a tall brunette idiot with goggles." You nodded keeping close to Mello. Again you snaked through isles. Eventually your search devolved into looking into cabinets, drawers, anything that would open, but to no avail.

"Where the fuck is he?" Mello said under his breath as he slammed shut another cabinet.

That was when a tall brunette wearing goggles walked by dual wielding hotdogs... You sighed heavily before approaching Matt.

"Matt?" You called out gaining the attention of both Matt and Mello. Mello stood beside you before going on to scold his friend almost as if he were an unruly child.

"Sorry about that I hope looking for him wasn't that unbearable... would you like to meet up sometime again in the future?" Mello asked. You nodded in response.

"I'd love to! This was quite fun actually. Though let's not go to an ikea next time."

Near

"We both like walking In the park at night and I think you're a stalker so I accidentally attack you"

🤖🎲🃏🪀🤖🎲🃏🪀🤖🎲🃏🪀🤖🎲🃏🪀🤖🎲🃏🪀🤖🎲🃏🪀🤖

It was 2am, the night was calm yet you were restless nothing you tried allowed you to fall asleep. It was like this most nights. You would then go to the park near your house to get some fresh air and tire yourself out... and on a night like this, that seemed like a perfect idea. You didn't even change out of your pajamas before you left. As you entered the park, you felt... odd. As if someone was watching you and sure enough, as you turned your head to look behind you you saw a man following about two yards behind you.

Naturally your thoughts went wild with what ifs and possible escape plans. Yet you calmed your mind opting to check if this guy was really following you. With every corner you turned your heart sank. Panic started to set in and you rushed to get together an improvised weapon.... Your housekey! You gripped it tightly in your hand as if it were a knife and swiftly approached the man going to jab him in the eye, yet he caught your arm with ease, turning it behind you and pushing you to the ground, similarly to how a police officer would apprehend a resistant assailant.

"Why did you attack me" he questioned, plopping down just above your hips.

"Let me go, stalker!!!" You yelled at him thrashing around attempting to escape his grasp.

"What are you talking about? I'm not stalking you." He calmly said.

"That's exactly what a stalker would say! Let me go!" He sighed lifting himself off of you and crouching beside you. You rolled over and sat with your legs crossed.

"I swear to you, I was only out for a walk. I take nighttime walks sometimes, though this was the first time I've been in this park."

"Then how come every time I turned you followed?"

"I did? I'm sorry, I didn't even realize" He stated plainly. You sighed he seemed truthful.

"Fine... I'm sorry too, I probably shouldn't have assumed you were a stalker or something and attacked you" you admitted. He shook his head.

"It's alright, I understand... I can be scary" you snorted and laughed. The light of the nearby streetlamp lit his features. A frail, sweet looking man with long white hair who seemed to be somewhat reserved. You felt a little silly that you thought someone like him would hurt you much.

"You're not scary... In all honesty you're quite cute!" You admitted, reaching out a finger to poke his nose.

"Thanks, you're actually quite cute as well, maybe we could meet up here in the morning?" He suggested.

Matt

"I come here when I want to be alone and I didn't think anyone knew about it so where the hell did you come from"

🎮🚬🥽🎮🚬🥽🎮🚬🥽🎮🚬🥽🎮🚬🥽🎮🚬🥽🎮🚬🥽🎮🚬🥽🎮

This day was aweful. Work was extremely stressful. Your coworker put important documents in the shreader for the 10th time that week and you were the one tasked with rewriting, tracking down, requesting new copies and piecing together ones that couldn't be recovered otherwise. And of course your boss made every minute of it a nightmare. So after work, you drove to your favorite place. An abandoned warehouse off the highway about 5 minutes from your house.

It was virtually untouched by people now that the walls were covered in graffiti and the place had been ransacked for leftover valuable items. You made your way inside noticing something was off... there was a leather couch that wasn't yours, a coffee table... even a TV and game console plugged into a power supply, another handheld game on the coffee table next to an ashtray with a few cigarette butts, one of which was still smoking.

You were beyond confused. From the last time you were here someone had basically moved in... it had only been a week since you last came here. You warily approached the couch. Well... whoever left it here probably won't mind! you thought I just hope they didn't sabotage it or something. You then sat down noting that it was a perfectly normal couch and you were just paranoid.

That was when a guy came in, he was tall and lenky, had brown hair and was dressed in a striped shirt, a frankly hideous vest with fur lining, black pants and goggles atop his head. He had been holding a can of coke and a cigarette, yet those were both dropped as he saw you.

"Who are you?" He half shrieked.

"Who are YOU? You yelled back.

"I asked first!"

"My name is Y/N.. I come here all the time when I'm stressed and want to be alone I didn't think anyone else knew about it"

"S..Same but.. I come here to get away from a friend of mine... he can be quite aggressive and it's scary" He sat down beside you picking up his handheld game. "Oh and my name is Matt!"

"Hmm.. then let's share this space from now on, Matt!" He nodded in agreement.

"Yea! I hope we meet again soon"

Beyond Birthday

"We live in the same apartment complex and I accidentally leave my laundry in the washer for a minute too long and you decide to take out all my wet clothes to put yours in just as I walk in"

🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪

It was late night. You had been putting off laundry for the past week, but now you were down to a pair of underwear and your nightgown, so you had to do your wash.. you reluctantly gathered your clothes and made your way to the communal washer and dryer. You threw your clothes in and put a coin in the coinslot then set the washer to start.

You sighed and made your way back to your room to relax a little while your clothes were still washing. It had been about two hours and your laundry was probably done. The timer you had set went off and you gathered yourself and brought the remainder of your clothes as well as your box of dryer sheets.

The moment you walked in your eyes widened in horror. Some odd man sat frantically pulling your clothes out of the washer onto the dirty floor.

"What the hell are you doing??!!" You yelled rushing over to stop him. He peered up at you from his crouching position.

"You left your clothes in too long, its my turn now" You blinked

"Only for a few minutes... it just got done less than 5 minutes ago.. now my clothes are all dirty again.. damn it"

"Sorry" He said. His beady eyes were wide and innocent looking. "I'll let you do yours again... I'll pay" He said before shoving yours back in and starting it again.

When that was done he pulled a jam jar out of seemingly nowhere and perched on top of the washer dipping his hand inside the jar and licking his fingers clean of jam. It was disgusting... But you decided to not pay any more attention to it than you had to.

The rest of the time you spent with him was in silence, all you heard was the washer and his lip-smacking. When the washer finished you silently transferred your clothes to the dryer.. this time without your oddball fellow tenant interfering much. Though when he got his own clothes in he did crawl away which freaked you out.

196 notes · View notes

detectivecarlosreyes · 4 years ago

Text

Keeping the line open

Ao3 | 3.2k | Rated: Gen | Tarlos

Summary Carlos hated this. Hated how he made TK feel. Hated how he felt himself. It was eating him up inside to know that he was the cause of this whole situation. It’s not like he and TK hadn’t had any arguments before, they had a number of them before they had figured out what they were and what they meant to each other at the beginning of their relationship. ~ aka Carlos's perspective in the aftermath of the fight in 2x04 and all that followed when TK returned.

For @911lonestarangstweek : Day 3 fix-it/Coda

Carlos hated this.

Hated how he made TK feel. Hated how he felt himself. It was eating him up inside to know that he was the cause of this whole situation. It’s not like he and TK hadn’t had any arguments before, they had a number of them before they had figured out what they were and what they meant to each other at the beginning of their relationship.

But this one had a finality to it.

“I freed some more space in your closet. Carlos.”

That’s what TK had said, and Carlos wasn’t sure where that left them.Was that a break-up? It kind of felt like it was, and that made it even worse. Because he didn’t know for sure if it actually was a break-up, or if TK just said it in the heat of the moment but didn’t actually mean anything by it.

Carlos’ stomach roiled at the mere recollection, just the thought of it left him feeling like he was in relationship limbo again, a place he thought he would never be in again since they got together, the day aurora borealis lit the sky. He groaned as he lay in bed, hearing the words repeat over and over again, effectively ruining any chance he had of getting any sleep. Unable to push it from his mind, Carlos tried calling him once but was sent straight to voicemail and followed it up with a text asking him, almost pleading for TK to call him back, hopeful to just be able to talk to him and explain everything. He wondered how TK was, hoped that he was okay, that he made it home to his parents safely. All he could think about was his concern for TK’s welfare and how much he had royally screwed up.

The rest of his night was a sleepless one. One spent in the kitchen, in an attempt to calm his mind with the structure that a recipe would give him, making sweet, chocolate-filled empanadas, something that he learned to make for late-night study sessions in college. It was a calming balm to his turbulent mind. helped it to push aside the frenetic feeling of anxiety over one pissy fight that ended leaving him feeling like it was the end of the world, of their relationship, even if, realistically, it probably wasn’t.

This is not how he wanted things to go. It was not the way he wanted the first meeting between his parents and his boyfriend to happen. The one boyfriend that he actually felt confident in introducing to his parents. He had a plan. One that involved preparing both parties before they officially met over a nice home-cooked meal, not some chance meeting that left him panicking and lying and hurting the man that practically owns his heart.

He hated that he was the cause of this argument, this fight, and the reason for disturbing their bubble of bliss of just being together and loving one another freely. The last thing he wanted was to upset his boyfriend. To blindside him without giving him any forewarning about his past, about his family, to give him all the facts of what he was walking into of the relationship, especially considering how forthcoming TK had been in the past.

When TK asked him about his parents he shouldn’t have evaded the question. It was a topic that he would’ve had to have faced at some point if he was going to make the plan a reality anytime in the near future, like how he’s imagined it so many times. Why didn’t he just tell TK his history with his parents when he asked about them? It’s a question that spun around and around in his head since TK had walked out the door. And he knew the answer, he just didn’t want to admit it to himself.

Carlos had always prided himself in being comfortable with who he was. Self-assured and confidant, a calming presence for the people that needed it. He buried that insecurity surrounding his sexuality and his parents beneath that persona and didn’t want to bring it to light again. Didn’t want to confront his parents and really get them to understand and see him and his sexuality completely. Didn’t want his openness in front of them to potentially compromise the love and acceptance he got when he first came out.

He knew he shouldn’t have made light of the situation by trying to crack jokes, knowing as soon as he started that TK wasn’t going to appreciate his effort to de-escalate the situation with ill-timed jokes, but it was the only defense he had. He hadn’t wanted to lay himself bare and be completely truthful because deep down he was insecure, a feeling that he hid not just from others but also himself. He was afraid of being exposed because deep down he was afraid that it would be a repeat of the last time he was truly vulnerable when he had come out to his parents.

This was all he thought about for most of the day, leaving him exhausted and distracted through most of his shift, but acting as though he was fine when really he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. He didn’t linger once his shift ended like he usually would, not feeling up to pretending that he was okay. Pretending that the finality of his argument with TK didn’t hurt, because it did, Carlos had thought that TK was going to be the one. The first one to introduce to his parents when the time was right. He had thought that he had more time. He knew his mind was spiralling to the worst-case scenario, and logically he knew that TK would talk to him eventually, but logic was not enough to quell the feeling of dread surrounding their relationship.

He didn’t call or text all day, wanting to give TK the space that he clearly wanted and when he got home, he tried to distract himself further by doing a load of laundry, which didn’t just include his clothes, but TK’s as well. The washing didn’t really distract as he hoped though, still finding himself gravitating back to his phone hoping that TK might have messaged or called with a change of heart. None came through and it left him feeling somewhat hopeless to think that might change. He’s had breakups before, but none have come close to what he was feeling. And that meant something. Because he saw a future with TK, something that he’s never entertained with past relationships.

Eventually, he collapsed on the couch in his sweatpants in a perpetual state of turmoil and regret, lamenting over how all of this could have been avoided if he had just been honest in the first place. His resolve was cracking now that he wasn’t occupied and it left him with his thumb hovering over TK’s name in his contacts with a strong want to break the deafening silence between them and just get the relief of hearing TK’s voice. Somehow he managed to refrain from doing so, now wanting to give away his desperation in a series of texts or calls.

He startled an hour later when someone knocked at the door while he was on his way to check on the laundry that had just finished its cycle to put in the dryer. Curious, having not had any messages from anyone else to say they were stopping by he peers through the window beside the door to discover a familiar silhouette, causing his hands to sweat anxiously.

With hesitation, he opened the door wide before drawing it back in, apprehensive of the fact that TK chose not to use his key and what that meant. “Hey,” he said quietly suddenly feeling nervous, seeing the seriousness in TK’s face.

“Hi,” answered TK, just as softly, “Can I come in?”

“You’ve got a key.”

“Yeah, I thought, maybe you might want that back.”

“Why? Are we breaking up?” He asked and then continued, suddenly feeling fed up and not wanting to beat around the bush anymore, “Or did that already happen because it kinda felt like it did.”

“No,” TK said quickly before following it up with a hesitant, “I mean, I hope not.”

“Come in.” He gestured inside and stepped out of the way.

Trying not to be confrontational, he stayed by the door after he closed it with his hand in his pockets and waited as TK led the conversation, interjecting when TK said that he had acted like a little bitch, which he didn’t, he had made some valid points even if he had been a little dramatic about it. Carlos was slightly taken aback however when TK said he wasn’t sorry, and found his phrasing characteristically confusing, a typical occurrence when he wasn’t sure how exactly to get across the point he was trying to make.

“… do you know what I mean?”

“Not really.”

He didn’t say anything more, allowing for TK to take a different tact as he relocated to ottoman making it clear that he wasn’t going anywhere, and explained what he meant. TK was being completely open and honest about how the day before had made him feel, a sight different from how cagey he used to be when they first met.

“It kills me,” he admitted after TK had said his piece and he finally moved from his spot and sat in front of TK, relieved that TK was clearly willing to hear him out, “Which is exactly why I was avoiding introducing you because I didn’t want that to happen and I- I knew it would.”

“Yeah, but did it have to? They knew you were gay.” He could see that TK was trying to understand, trying to make sense of what he was saying with the limited knowledge of what he knew so far.

“They know, yes.” He said quickly. Trying to find the right words, he took a deep breath, feeling the floodgates lift as he tells TK everything that he’s withheld up until now, wringing his hands as he does so.

“I came out to them when I was seventeen. They were shocked. I- I knew it rocked their world, but they hugged me and told me they loved me and that was that. Do you know what we talked about the next morning? Hmm? The Astros bullpen, the price of unleaded, a new calf in our family ranch. Not one mention of what I shared… then or… since.”

“They seemed like such nice people.”

“They are nice people,” he corrected TK, “But, they’re not perfect people.”

“You know, my parents may be very queer-friendly, but they’re not perfect either,” TK offered, Carlos thinks as a way to help him feel better, “They just gave me a pep talk, that felt like it was more about them than about me.”

Carlos could feel his nerves settling, having unburdened himself and having TK listen and hear the words that he had, up until this point, left unspoken through his avoidance of the topic while also offering a piece of his own upbringing to allay any residual discomfort he had over this conversation.

“That explains a lot,” he says amused, finding the stress slowly melting away.

TK continued, “There was something that my mom did say though. She said… that I felt triggered because I didn’t feel safe in this relationship.” Carlos broke eye contact with TK as he felt his heart plummet to the floor.

“I see. I’m sorry to hear that.” He said, doing his best to keep his voice steady, trying to swallow the emotions caught in his throat and wondering if this might actually be it for them after all that, but TK continued speaking, instantly brushing away the anxiety that had spiked within him.

“But you know what I didn’t consider? Is how unsafe you feel and have felt for so much of your life.”

Carlos’s breath caught in his throat as he looked up at TK in wonder, he didn’t expect to feel quite so seen and understood that it left him breathless with his eyes reflexively watering in relief. He could feel the knot in his stomach loosen at that thought as TK slotted his hands into his own, taking a firm and reassuring grip.

“I want you to know that I am fully on board. You can tell your parents I am your friend, your colleague, your personal shopper...” That last one made Carlos laugh considering how that must have looked to his parents at the market, “…I don’t care. Okay? As long as you need.”

As much as he loved knowing how willing TK was to stay by his side regardless of their situation, there was something he had to know and it hurt him to even ask but he knew it wouldn’t be fair to TK if he didn’t, “And if it never changes?” He couldn’t keep the vulnerability from his voice and felt completely at TK’s mercy, knowing that what he says next could very well influence the rest of their relationship, if TK felt he wouldn’t be able to withstand the possibility of being indefinitely his ‘friend from work’ in the eyes of his parents.

“Nothing ever stays the same, Carlos.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, so he doesn’t and that seemed alright with TK. Instead, he draws TK’s hands held in his grasp and gently holds them to his lips as he shuts his eyes in gratitude. He stays like that, breathing in deep and soothingly, sensing as TK drew himself in closer and felt the touch of his lips pressed against his bowed forehead.

“We’ve unpacked a lot tonight.” TK murmurs into his temple when his lips broke contact, “How about I order us some of your favourite food from that restaurant you like, and we can just curl up on the couch and watch a movie?”

“I’d like that.” Carlos breathed out, any residual tension in his body leaving him as he does so, feeling the weight of the world lift from his shoulders. He opened his eyes and released TK’s hands, shaking himself out of the moment, remembering that he was heading to the laundry when TK had turned up.

“I- ah I just need to move washing to the dryer if either of us are going to have any clothes for work tomorrow.”

TK stood up with him and moved in the opposite direction, heading towards the door leaving Carlos to follow him with his eyes questioningly. “TK?”

TK turned with his hand on the door, a bashful look flushing his face, “I left my phone in my bag outside-- I knew you wanted to talk but I wasn’t sure you actually wanted to see me,” TK opened the door and picked up his duffle, the same one he walked out with the previous night, “…couldn’t bring myself to unpack it.”

Carlos chuckled lightly from where he was standing, shaking his head in amused disbelief. “You couldn’t bring yourself to unpack your bag, and I couldn’t even bring myself to passive-aggressively wash only my clothes that were in the hamper, we’re both hopeless.” He said before disappearing in the direction of the laundry room, leaving TK to order dinner.

When he returned TK was already on the couch, elbows propped on knees as he finished up making their dinner order, one that he seemed to have rote learned from the few times that they’d had it. Dropping his phone to the side as the order went through, TK invited with an outstretched arm for him to settle in as he picked up the remote, “dinner should be here in 30 minutes.”

Carlos fell into TK’s open arms and easily positions himself partially lying across his lap with his back resting against his chest leaving TK to wrap his arms around his torso as he proceeded to pick a movie. He relaxed into the embrace, comforted but the slow rise and fall of TK’s chest against his back.

Carlos waited until the opening credits started on the movie that they watched at least half a dozen times and kissed the inside of TK’s bicep before saying, “We have dessert for tonight. I ended up making chocolate empanadas in the middle of the night and stress ate too many to count because I couldn’t sleep at all last night.”

He felt TK shift beneath him, “I barely slept either.”

Carlos continued, “I’m glad you came back. With the way that you left, I wasn’t sure that you would. I had built it up in my head with all the things I should have done differently to the point that I thought this was an irreparable deal-breaker.”

“Carlos, I was always going to come back, you have to know that--” TK said, conviction clear in his voice, causing Carlos to sit up, propped up on his arms to look at him properly, “--I know I said I wasn’t sorry, but I am-- for making you feel like that. I just needed time to process it all.”

“I know and I get that now. And I’m sorry too, for putting you in that situation in the first place, this wasn’t the way that I planned on introducing you to my parents.”

His admittance erased the guilt swimming in TK’s eyes and brought forth its usual mischievous sparkle in its place, “Oh, so there was a plan?”

“Uh-huh.” He responded mirthfully with a smirk, not giving much away, and returned to his original position, finding TK’s arms circle him more tightly and felt his chin rest lightly on the crown of his head. The was a beat or two before he spoke again, “TK?”

“Yeah?”

He placed a hand over TK’s, “I don’t want to fight like that again. I hated the silence and not being able to just talk to you.”

“I hated it too,” TK murmured into his hair and there was a quiet moment between them.

“What if… what if we make it so that it doesn’t happen like that again?”

“What are you thinking?”

Carlos paused for a second, gathering his thoughts, “We need to be able to communicate, to be open and honest about a problem with each other, even if it’s to say that we might not be ready to talk about it, just, you know, acknowledge it for a later conversation?”

“Keeping the line open to one another.” TK summarised thoughtfully.

“Yeah,”

“Okay. I like the sound of that.” TK responded softly and sealed it with a kiss into his hair.

The rest of the evening was spent comfortably, how it should have been the night before, eating dinner together on the couch, reciting their favourite parts of what was left of the movie, wrapped up with one another.

They finished off what was left of the empanadas and eventually fell into bed in exhaustion, completely stuffed and at peace, no longer anxious or upset as they were the previous night. If they were slightly more clingy than usual, well neither of them were going to say anything about it because they still had each other and that was what mattered.

The last words spoken by both of them, just like every other night, was a promise and a quiet declaration of “I love you”, sealed with a good night’s kiss.

54 notes · View notes

dcbbw · 4 years ago

Text

Six Sentence Sunday January 3, 2021

I haven’t posted a Six Sentence Sunday in forever! Fortunately, for the first Sunday of 2021, I have managed to get words and thoughts out of my head and onto paper (or screen).

Everything is under the cut (and it’s a little bit of a lot)

The Life We Lived, Chapter 3:

His wife nodded and reached over into his plate to grab his fish sandwich. She wasn’t a fan of the seafood, but it was deep fried, and the bread was loaded with mayo, lettuce, tomato, onions, and jalapenos. It looked delicious.

She was on her third bite when her husband returned. His eyes widened in disbelief at seeing both of Riley’s hands gripping half his sub sandwich, mayonnaise dripping from her lips. Without a word, he sat down, pulled her beef lo mein in front of him. and began eating it.

“What did Thomas want? Is the job offer at the firm still open?” Riley licked her lips before taking another hearty bite.

Liam twirled flavorful noodles around the tines of his fork before spearing tender pieces of beef. His expression was thoughtful when he looked at his wife. “He offered me a case, but it isn’t immigration. It’s criminal. Murder.”

Riley’s eyes widened. “You’re not a criminal attorney.”

“I know enough to be a public defender,” Liam argued. “And it’s pretty open and shut. Apparently, the accused is admitting guilt; they just want to not get the death penalty or life with no chance of parole.”

Riley snatched her beef lo mein away from Liam; she shoveled a huge forkful in her mouth. “How much?” she asked suspiciously.

Liam’s eyes held hers. “One million even.”

Riley choked on her food. “What the FUCK?? When do you start?”

Liam chuckled softly before leaning over and kissing Riley with the slightest hint of tongue. “Not so fast, there. That’s a lot of money from a person admitting they’re guilty of murder, of all things. Which makes me think there’s more here than meets the eye.”

Riley nodded slowly. “So, you’re gonna think about it?” she asked hopefully.

Untitled #WackyDrabble #76:

The King stood at his study’s window, his dark eyes peering up at an even darker sky. He held a glass of scotch in one hand; he absent-mindedly shook it, causing amber liquid to swirl gently. In his other hand, he held a black velvet ring box. His eyes left the starry sky to look down at the box.

Inside was a symbol of his devotion, loyalty, and commitment. That he would slide onto his fiancée’s finger tomorrow morning.

He would have a wife. Cordonia would have a Queen.

Except Cordonia was an exacting mistress, not easily appeased. Demands for an heir would soon follow, then a spare would be required.

This wasn’t supposed to be my life.

With a sigh, Liam tucked the jewelry box into his suit jacket pocket before closing the curtains; he turned away from the window and sank into the chocolate leather of his oversized chair. His eyes roamed over his desk: personal photographs, stacks of paperwork divided by progress and priority, a Bible of the Orthodox Church.

He lifted his head at a knock on the door; hope and eagerness flooded his body as he called for his visitor to enter. It fled as quickly as it came when he saw who his visitor was.

White Sock Fuckery (SGL Ask):

The October evening was damp and chilly. Streetlamps glowed pale yellow against the night. The heavy rain that had drenched the nation’s capital from sunrise to sunset had finally eased into a light mist. The few leaves left on the trees lining Rhode Island Avenue at Logan Circle were bent and downward facing with the weight of moisture.

A figure slid from the vehicle double parked in the street, a large bag filled with purchases clutched in one hand. They didn’t turn around to watch the vehicle drive away; they were too busy searching for keys. With an audible gasp of relief, fingers pulled out a keyring and the person entered the building.

In the lobby of the apartment complex, the person headed directly up the stairs to Unit #2. The hall was quiet, the lighting dim. More keys were inserted into locks, and the person was inside. They leaned against the closed front door, exhaling a sigh as they inhaled patchouli and the faint smell of cigarette smoke. Their eyes traveled quickly over the darkened rooms.

Unopened wine bottles on the kitchen counter, remote control tossed carelessly on the sofa, a pile of laundry tossed atop the stacked washer/dryer.

Still clutching the bag, the person traveled the short hallway that led to the bedroom. Flipping a switch filled the somewhat spacious area with bright light. Tossing the bag on the bed, the person went to the chest of drawers placed in the exact center between two of the room’s four windows. A quick glance at their watch informed them they had 15 minutes before their ride returned.

Pulling the top drawer open, the person’s eyes widened in a hybrid of horror, disbelief, and humor.

What the actual fuck?

Dress Up (SGL x Riley B Kinktober ask)

“You know I wouldn’t do anything you’re not ready for,” he assured her. “But I think we’re both ready for something. Let’s call it a tension breaker.”

“Tension breaker?” Riley arched a brow as her arms circled his neck.

“It has to be done,” Liam affirmed as his lips pulled hers into a deep kiss.

When they parted a full minute later, Liam whispered in her ear. “I want to touch your body, Riley B.”

Riley looked at him with eyes dark with desire and clouded with wariness. “No sex!”

“I know,” Liam nodded.

“You think I’m silly. And I probably am, but …”

Liam shook his head. “No. You’ve been hurt. I’m fine with going slowly. I just need you to remember I’m not those other guys. I’m not gonna dump you in Target or pop in for 15 minutes of your time every six months like Bootycall Keith.”

Riley kissed him softly on the cheek. “Thank you. I just … I wanna get it right this time.”

“Me too.” His fingers raked through her hair.

“And it’s Keith the Bootycall. Like Chance the Rapper.”

Liam rolled his eyes as he shrugged out of his shirt; he didn’t see why he had to get that scrub’s name right.

Sunday Bruch, Chapter 10

Olivia ate a hearty forkful of her roasted quail and root vegetable casserole. “Hamid wanted to join us, but I thought it best that this luncheon be girls only.”

Riley looked at her confused. “Why? I’d love to meet the man who took you away from Court.”

Olivia set her fork down; she leaned across the table so she and Riley were practically nose to nose. “First, no one took me away from Court. I am still very much a member; I just choose not to socialize with you heathens. Second, you’re pregnant with no idea who the father is. You don’t want this to become an international scandal! You do realize Hamid has his own kingdom to oversee? And he can be a Chatty Cathy with an especially … juicy tidbit.”

Riley nodded as Olivia pulled away. A pale hand swept across her crimson locks before the Duchess of Lythikos brought a wine glass to her lips.

“So, what are you going to do?”

Riley shrugged as she scooped venison, rice, and gravy. “Honestly, I don’t know. I want to stay with Maxwell. Thinking all the men have brown hair; all of us except Maxwell have brown eyes. Maybe Max is the dad by default?”

Olivia blinked. This woman cannot be this fucking stupid! She lightly cleared her throat.

“How were you ever Queen?” Olivia huffed. “You do know none of these men look alike, right? As much as I love a good drama, the smart thing … the responsible thing to do is to have a DNA test done. Then sit down and have a talk with Maxwell and the child’s father.”

“NO!” Riley exclaimed, bits of food flying from her mouth. “I can’t do that! That’s just … out of the question!”

“You should have thought of that before having a threesome with Drake Walker and Rashad Domvallier.”

“It was just something to do,” Riley muttered.

“Now it’s become someone to raise.” Olivia sliced into a savory yam. “THIS is why I no longer come around. You people are a circle jerk of messy sex and share relationships. I have found keeping your circle small helps keep your hole tight.”

Untitled Laxwell:

In the kitchen, he found his lover sitting in the dark at the dining table. The flipping of the light switch revealed a decanter of scotch sat beside him, and a glass of the liquor was in front of him. His blue eyes lifted long enough to take in his boyfriend’s slightly disheveled countenance.

“Rain wake you up?’ he asked as he took a swallow of his drink.

Liam shook his head, frowning slightly. Maxwell wasn’t a drinker; he wanted to be, but the most the younger Beaumont could handle was a glass of wine. Two, at most. Anything more or something stronger went to his head immediately. And Maxwell tended to be a belligerent drunk, his ire fueled by jealousy.

Liam sat down cautiously across from his boyfriend.

“What are you doing up? And drinking?”

Maxwell shrugged while tugging at his wrinkled tee shirt. “Thinking.”

“About what?”

Maxwell said nothing as he picked up his glass to drink more scotch.

“How many glasses have you had?” Liam asked suspiciously.

“This is my second.”

“So, what are you thinking about that has you up in the middle of the night, drinking scotch?”

Liam settled back in his chair, outstretching his arm so his hand covered Maxwell’s .A slight smile quickly flickered across the young Lord’s lips. When he raised his face to look at Liam, his expression was blank but his eyes sad.

“My mother.” It was simply said, but Liam knew the pain that lay behind the two words.

Untitled JGL one-shot:

One night, soon after Liam Rys started, I found myself staying late to help out the accounting team. Quarterly reports were coming up which meant every broker needed their monthly numbers. Of course, a good broker keeps their own numbers, but with Barthelemy as Managing Director, there are no good brokers.

Just a bunch of good old boy club members who like to smoke cigars, drink liquor, and grope tits.

And then there are the rest of us.

I run the numbers for my team and go to drop Liam’s reports off at his desk; when I reach his cubicle, I stop short. It’s after 8 pm, and he is hunched over his desk. His cheeks are flushed, he’s gnawed his lower lip raw, and wears a scowl of vexation on his face.

“What are you still doing here?” I ask as I lay the reports in his inbox.

His dark eyes glance up at me before falling back down to the computer screen. “I have to put together a portfolio for a new client by tomorrow morning. Came straight from the Managing Director.”

“And it has you looking like that?”

“He has very specific stocks he wants to invest in, but none of them are going to give the client the yield the MD insists upon.”

I roll my eyes and hold out my hand to see the mock portfolio. With a sigh, Liam passes it to me before leaning back in his chair. He rubs his eyes, and glances at the clock. He pulls open a desk drawer and grabs an apple.

I look around for a place to sit in the small cubicle, but there isn’t any. Liam’s bicycle takes up all the available space. Instead, I kick off my heels and rest against the cloth-covered partition as I quickly review the documents.

“They’re playing you,” I state flatly as I pass the papers back.

Liam looks at me, confusion and an underlying hardness in his eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

“What they’re asking of you is impossible. All the stocks are duds, poor performers. They set you up to fail. Or go crazy, whichever one comes first.”

Not tagging folks; if you see it and want to play, feel free to do so!

#long post #dcbbw writes #six sentence sunday #choices fanfiction

23 notes · View notes

witchywrter · 5 years ago

Text

“A Marauder’s Life for Me” Ch.2

(Marauders x reader)

Part 1

Summary: Y/N is an American witch who was forced to move to England. She thought her live was over before she recieved a letter changing everything.

Anon: hey guys!!! Here’s chapter two, I know it’s slow but it’s gonna speed up next chapter I promise. Just trying to get all the backround and feels out in the open. You may see me trying and failing to foreshadow some stuff so sorry if you cringe, lol. Have fun reading!

Warnings: slight depression, that’s all I think

y/n/n = your nickname

———————————————————————————————————

I woke to the sound of heavy rain beating down on the roof above me. California didn’t have rain in August. It was warm and dry, my ideal weather.

I remember one particular Fourth of July when my parents took me down to the beach with my mother’s family. We spent the whole day playing in the sand and water and when night had finally fallen, the fireworks began. My father, the Englishman, celebrated the hardest. When my mother asked him, through fits of laughter, why, he simply replied that he had to love the country that gave him us.

I looked at the clock on my nightstand.

10:23am.

My room was still dark despite it being late in the morning. Thanks a lot England.

I got up out of bed and walked into my closet to grab a white long sleeve sweater with a thin rainbow line running through the top half. I went over to my dresser and pulled out a small white bra, a pair of dark blue bell bottom jeans and some thick socks.

After getting dressed I pulled out my brush from the drawer in the nightstand and brushed out my hair. I braided two small pieces of my hair on either side of my face and left the rest hanging.

I was about to walk out the door before a chill went through my body. I walked over to my closet to grab a big jacket that just so happened to go well with my outfit.

I opened the door and headed for the stairs, stopping by the bookshelf and choosing a book that looked interesting before continuing on my way. Walking past the front door I noticed my father’s raincoat, which he had hung up the night before, was gone. I headed into the kitchen to find my grandmother drinking tea at the counter with a muggle newspaper set in front of her.

“Morning” I called, alerting her to my presence.

“Good Morning,” she responded, looking up from the paper. “your father went into the Ministry early this morning so he won’t be home until later tonight.”

“He’s already back to work?” I asked surprised.

“I suppose” she said looking back to the paper.

I grabbed an apple and headed out into the backyard. It was just as beautiful as the front yard, but enchanted to be bigger. The rain didn’t seem nearly as heavy as it did in my room. The yard was lined with a dark wooden fence and tall trees to block out prying eyes. There were multiple spots to sit down with benches, chairs, and tables. Two ginormous trees stood tall near the back.

I ran to take cover underneath one of them, but as I got closer I realized there was a ladder hanging from the tree on the left. I looked up, but found nothing. I set my apple and book down and began to climb. I got up about twenty feet before I hit my head on something hard. I looked up, expecting to see a large branch. Instead, I found the bottom of big treehouse. I pushed on the trap door which swung open with much effort. I climbed inside to find it, yep, magically enlarged. I was beginning to think everything in this house was.

There were two twin beds, each positioned beside a window. The windows had dark red curtains covering them. To the left was a cabinet with a glass door. There looked to be old board games in it. A dresser was against the wall between the beds and cabinet with a lamp and record player on it. There were cobwebs in corners and a thick layer of dust that covered everything.

I walked over, crawling onto the bed and threw the curtains back, choking on dust. I pryed the window open, sticking my head out to get some fresh air.

The view from up here was amazing. I could see the whole village, but I don’t think they could see me. There must be some concealment charm on it since I didn’t see it until I ran into it, literally.

I opened the other window and quickly went to climb down the ladder. I ran to the house, into the kitchen.

“Did you know there’s a tree house out there?” I asked, a little out of breathe.

“Tree-oh, that’s your fathers of course. He and his schoolmates built it in their fifth year. Hasn’t been used in ages come to think of it. You’re welcome to use it if you’d like. The cleaning supplies are in the closet over there” she pointed to the door next to the pantry.

“Thank you!”

I ran into the closet grabbing all the things I thought I’d need. I hurried outside and set down some of the supplies knowing I’d have to make two trips to get everything up the ladder, nearly forgetting to bring up my apple and book. When I finally got everything up, I took hold of the duster and got to work.

I spend nearly half an hour just dusting before I could clean anything else. After that, I took off the curtains and stripped the beds of their sheets, comforters, and pillow cases. I put them in a pile by the entrance so I could take them into the house later to wash them. I unscrewed the lightbulb in the lamp, replacing it with a new one I’d found in the cleaning closet.

I took the broom and swept the floor, sweeping dirt and dust out through the open trapdoor. Raising the broom above me, I used it to tear down the cobwebs in the corners of the ceiling.

When I finally finished all the cleaning I took a step back. The place looked nice now. Old, but nice. It was odd, but being in the treehouse made me feel like I’d never left California. Like if I went back down, I’d find my dad barbecuing while my mom set the table. Despite what it made me feel, I knew it wasn’t true.

With a sigh, I walked over to the dresser and opened a drawer. It was filled with old vinyl records. Mostly 60’s music. I’d have to go into town sometime soon to get more up to date music.

I grabbed my apple, taking a large bite out of it while I closed the drawer and opened the one to the right of it. There was a large tin that would normally hold cookies. I set down my apple and gently took the tin out of the drawer and placed it on the floor. It was heavier than I thought.

Inside was a Gryffindor badge on top. That was my father’s house at Hogwarts. I didn’t know much about the school other than it was where British witches and wizards went.

Underneath it was a picture of five boys. I recognized my father as one of them. They were all gathered around a four poster bed with a trunk next to it, smiling.

Beneath that was a leather-bound notebook. My father’s adolescent diary no doubt. Next to that was an empty black pouch with a long string to put around ones neck. The last thing in there was an old silver, ornate key. I wondered what that opens.

I put everything back into the tin and stuck it in the drawer. Now that everything was cleaned up I took the cleaning supplies back down along with the bedding. When I got on the ground I noticed how dark it was.

I walked back to the house and luckily for me, the rain seemed to have stopped. When I got in I set the supplies on the counter. My grandmother was already at the stove making dinner. I took the bedding up to the laundry room to put it in the washing machine and quickly returned.

Before I reached the bottom of the stairs, my father opened the door. He took his shoes off, placing them in their designated spot and took off his raincoat to hang it on the hook.

“Hey dad” I called.

He quickly looked up. He looked tired, really tired.

“Hey y/n/n” he said, giving me a small smile.

“How was your day?” I asked. I was still upset with him, but my curiously to know what could have possibly drained him this much the first day back won out.

“Fine, just some trouble a wizard has been causing, nothing we haven’t seen before.” he said reassuringly.

“Ok,” I said not fully believing him. “Well grandmother has dinner on the stove so..”

He nodded and walked into the kitchen, myself right behind him.

The rest of the night passed uneventful, but I still didn’t think my father was telling me the whole truth. I know he was hiding something, but what exactly, I didn’t know.

After helping out with the dishes I headed upstairs to put the bedding and curtains in the dryer.

When I got to my room, I took a quick shower and hopped in bed. My father had told me I’d have to interview for some secondary schools tomorrow. I was dreading it.

“Muggle school” I scoffed.

I should be going to Ilvermorny. Studying every aspect of magic, not language arts and science.

I pulled the covers close, a single tear rolling down my face. I laid on my side and reached to turn the lamp off. Closing my eyes, I prayed to anyone who was listening to give me my life back. I couldn’t take being motherless and magicless all at once. When I finally drifted off to sleep, the last thing I thought of was a memory of hugging my mother.

Her warmth wrapping me in safety and love. She smelled like her favorite perfume and a sweet vanilla scent that was unique to only her. I felt happy and loved. A terrible contrast to reality.

__________________________________________

Anon: yay! Chapter two finished!! I’m gonna start the third chapter tonight so I can have it out as soon as possible. Thank you guys for the support! I really like this story and I’m excited to explore it further. I edited the first chapter a little when I did some research. Forgot the U.S. doesn’t have a Ministry of Magic, but a Magical Congress, so I redid that part. Feedback is always appreciated. Love you guys, stay safe!❤️

42 notes · View notes

abloomntime · 4 years ago

Text

A Bloom In Time Ch 29

(This is just a random slice of life chapter to fill the gaps before the next major event in the story. Sorta like one of those speed montages in shows or games.)

Days passed since that incident out with the mafia, and the entire thing had been pushed to the back of their minds as her or the girls got things settled. Most of the days Poppy spent watching television marathons with the girls since she found them all really interesting. Most of them was kiddy shows like Detective Pengiun. Science Owl's Magic Hour, etc. But there was also reruns of Cookie's cooking show. Poppy had to ask what reruns were and Bow kindly explained that they were episodes that already aired but were being shown again, rerun on air. Therefore being dubbed reruns. They were great if you wanted to rewatch a favorite episode of yours or series, or if there was an episode you missed, so you could have a chance to watch it. Poppy found it fascinating they could magically show endless shows without having to plug in a projector and record player. Besides that she finally got to see what kind of movies this Conductor person made. Most of them were serious, with great plot stories, drama, a wee bit of romance, but mostly action. Weired titles tho. The Good, The Bad, and The Swan. Gary Pecker High Goon. Blazing Beaks. And so on. She had to admit, for a bunch of owls they were pretty good. Most of Mr. Grooves stories on the other hand were to put it lightly eye soring. Yeah. Most of them have nice or even great plots, but it was usually blind sided by the flashing or bright lights that made her head sore. But there was a few good ones too in the bunch without blinding lights. Poppy was surprised to find out the children had even starred in some of their movies. Mr. Grooves being called The Big Parade, and Conductor's being called Murder On The Owl Express. They were low key, but still enjoyable....That WAS until she saw the complete and utter DANGEROUS situations those two were put through!! Who has a child jump from building to building tons of feet in the air being followed by rockets and sparks of electricity?! AND WHO MAKES A CHILD JUMP OVER BOMBS AND DISMANTLED TRAINS WHILE SHUTTING OFF A TIMED BOMB?! She asked the two about it horrified and they just shrugged it off like they did this kind of stuff everyday.

...

CLEARLY she was going to have to have a talk with those loony birds and give them a piece of her mind. If they expected her to be doing some death defying stuff like that then they were CLEARLY mistaken. Speaking of those two birds, she would be getting a notice from one of them very soon. The next day actually. She was just sleeping soundly on the attic floor (the girls had been nice enough to loan her a miniature pile of pillows to lay upon as to avoid sleeping anymore on cold hard wood) when a sound a came ringing out. She didn't pay very much attention to it first, because...well she was sleeping in and felt like getting some good shut eye from doing nothing but playing with two energetic girls in a limited space it too her a long time to crawl around in. Plus being two rooms over she didn't really hear it all too well. But two little kids running around sure did. Which is when she woke up to Hattie forcefully shook her awake against her will.

"Wh-what-"

"Get up!," hattie yelled practically in her ear making her yelp and sit up fast. Hand shooting up to clutch her ear as she tiredly blinked at the girl.

"What the world are you doin'?" She barely got time to ask before Hattie grabbed her hand and pulled. Telling her to get up and go to the phone. "Phone? What you mean a telephone?"

"Yeah! DJ Grooves wants to talk to you."

So the little alien had a telephone on this ship too? Huh. You learn something new everyday. And apparently Mr. Grooves wanted to speak to her? Huh. Ok. She'll get up. Poppy slowly and tiredly got up and made her way out of the attic, following Hattie down the ramp and and tiredly rubbing her eyes as she walked after her towards the machine room. Already groaning at the fact she'd be having to crawl through a small hallway again. But once she did, the sounds of grinding gears graced her ears as they rattled and worked. And found the girls huddled around what she definately recognized as something from her time. An old fashioned (well to the girls and everyone else it'd be very old fashioned by now but in her day it was a pretty new technology) phone stuck to the side of the wall and it looked like bow was holding up the end you could hear someone's voice from and speaking something but stopped when Poppy came tiredly walking towards her. Bow happily handed her the other end of the phone and Poppy nodded in thanks before holding said object to her ear to listen.

"H-Hello? *yawn*"

"DARLING!! Thank goodness you're awake!," the happy voice of Mr. Grooves boomed out from the other side of the phone making Poppy wince and pull her head away from the speaker. "I have wonderous news, Darling! Incredible, fantastic news!"

"You don't say," she muttered softly rubbing her ear.

"I found a young lady who could not only play one role but TWO in our little plays! Can you believe that!" Oh. So he found someone to fill in another role. Nice. "We're nearly meeting our quota for the entire staff!! There's still much things to prepare for like the scenes and of course, but by the end of next month I'm sure we'll have everything we'll need to start rehearsals. ....Considering if I can find someone else to fill the last few roles of course. The pressure's really getting to me, Darling."

"I'm sure ya'll find someone...*yaaaaaawn* Yer good at your job," Poppy complimented as an attempt to bring some ease to the nervous penguin.

"Darling, you are absolutely right! I'll keep you filled in on the juicy details as they go, for now don't forget to study up on those lines dear! DJ Grooves out!"

And then he hung up. What a way to start the morning.

This was falling in such a regular routine she was starting to lose track of time and days. Kinda hard to considering you couldn't really tell time from space and there wasn't any calenders around for her to really get a good idea on what day it was or how to calculate it all. Luckily she had plenty to do around the ship. The girls acted like they were a little disappointed Snatcher told them essentially to not leave the ship with or without Poppy without his say so first, so it was pretty much a grounding without being grounded. But luckily they had a remedy-.......Making Poppy play with her. Most of the girls' days the past few-...Weeks? Days?? Was filled with Poppy running around playing whatever games these two came up with from pillow fighting to storytime. She didn't mind of course but all of this was starting to wear down on her. She was going crazy from the limited space and just watching tv. But she had other things too to try out. Like cooking one of those giant fish she got.

Hattie had walked in on her in the kitchen one afternoon(??) with one of the fish in a pan and going through her cabinets sprinkling any herbs she recongized on it, wearing that cooking apron she bought from Mafia town. She didn't hear her walk up to her until she spoke curiously looking at the entire thing she was attempting to cook. "Whatcha doing?"

Poppy had jumped almost dropping some basil and blinked down at the young girl. "Oh..It's just you." She turned back to the fish. "Ah'm makin' lunch."

"With the fish??"

"Yep! There used to be this stream in the woods where I caught these here suckers all the time. Roasted them over a fire lots of nights and made a good meal. Where I'm from ya gotta be resourceful and make do with what ya had....I don't suppose ya'll have a fire place 'round here do ya?"

Hattie shook her head no before pointing to the over attached to the stove. "But I have this. Cookie uses this to make cakes." The child happily licked her lips. "AND COOKIES!! I love her cookies!!"

Poppy opened the strange door attached to the stove top and blinked at what was inside. "What is it?"

"A stove. You bake stuff in it."

".....THIS is a stove?," She rose a brow. "Where in tarnation are ya'll supposed ta put the wood and light the fire to heat this thing up ta bake??"

"...Um." Hattie peeked inside too slightly confused at Poppy's question ...before shrugging. "I don't know, but Cookie presses the big blue button there-" she pointed to a blue button at the headboard of the stove. "-and it starts to heat up."

"....Fascinatin'."

A stove and over that didn't need fire or wood to cook? Wow. Alien technology was sure something else wasn't it. Poppy made a mental note to ask Cookie to help her figure out this crazy contraption when she got the chance. For now she just pushed the seasoned fish into the oven and pushed the blue button Hattie had pointed to. Within half an hour of Poppy sitting there waiting, the thing got to be an impressive hot temperature. After a little while longer(and the girls asking her to read to them again while they waited), she got a whiff of some mouth watering roasted fish! She wasn't sure exactly HOW it worked and had to ask Hattie to turn it off(by pressing the same button again) but the three were treated to some of that delicious roasted fish. Poppy didn't like to brag or anything, and she wasn't the best cook, but she could make a darn good fish meal. It also took her a while to figure out how to use the laundry machine and dryer in the storage room as there wasn't any lines to hang the wet clothes on and she nearly had a heart attack when she pushed a button on the washer and water all of a sudden started spilling into it. Bow had to reassure her this was the way Snatcher always did it and sometimes Cookie if she had a lot of time on her hands-...paws. Another day(??) and again she was started to get frustrated and feel enclosed in whenever she couldn't walk around anywhere else besides the control room, attic, and kitchen. Until finally-

FINALLY!!

Snatcher decided to show his jack o lantern face again. The purple onion. He just popped up one day outta the blue so randomly and suddenly she nearly had a heart attack just walking in on him curiously waiting for her outside the machie room- But we're getting a little bit ahead of ourselves. It would be a MORE surprising coincidence after the fact she had yet ANOTHER call from Mr. Grooves, this time thankfully in the afternoon instead of early morning, no need to wake her up this time.

"DARLING!! SPLENDID FANTASTIC SPECTACULAR NEWS!! WE FINALLY MANAGED TO FILL ALL THE ROLES OF OUR SHOW!! OH IM SO HAPPY DARLING!! YOU HAVE NO IDEA!!"

Poppy was smart enough to hold the old phone away from her ear this time as she could hear him loud and clear through the device. "Oh, Im sure I can, Sir. That sounds delightful."

"IT IS DARLING!!! OH YOU MUST COME IN IMMEDIATELY FOR COSTUME FITTING!!"

"Wait...As in right now?"

"Oh no of course not! First thing tomorrow mourning, Darling! I want to make everything as perfect as possible!"

"Sure thing!"

Shortly after that the two said their good byes and she hung up before crawling her way back through the small hallway and back into the control room where she met none other than the man of the hour himself....Or should I say noodle ghost? Snatcher was waiting for her arms crossed and with that famous frown of his gazing as Poppy came in and paused standing up at the sight of him. Wearing that plain pink dress she bought some time ago.

"You're late!," he huffed, "You know my time is precious to me as an all powerful being like myself."

"Well, excuse me. But I will remind you I sorta have a second boss at the moment?" She frowned back. "Or did ya'll forget me stupidly gettin' mahself inta debt...again?"

He smirked. "Oh I didn't forget a thing, Red. I love the way you're always stumbling around like a frail leaf in the breeze.~"

"OH!!...PECK OFF YA ONION!!" She scowled more at him as he chuckled. "Do ya know how hard it is ta work two jobs and watch these lil guys at the same time?!"

"Welcome to MY world! And you know I could always scare you out of any debt you got yourself into with those pecknecks down there." He offered genuinely. "I may not look like it, but I'm very good at legal technicalities. I did want to be a lawyer at once upon a time!"

"....That's..actually very nice of ya to offer me, but hard pass. I got mahself into this mess and if I'm gonna survive on my own after this, ah need to learn how to work on my own out there. And I can't go back on my word after I caused so much trouble for Mr. Grooves and Mr. Loudmouth. And I already agreed to everythin'. I need to take responsibility and not just leave him with another problem." Snatcher stared at her for a moment before sighing and smiling widely again. Ah, Poppy. Always the stubborn old gal taking the weight ofworld on her shoulders. "What are you even doin' here anyways?," she asked eyeing him up and down, "It's not like ya'll drop by whenever ya want anyways, but why now?"

"Food delivery."

"What?"

One of those long noodle arms detached itself from his crossed arm position and pointed down to a small bag the size of the two kids rummaging through it. Food was flowing out of it with apples, lettace, and a few other food varieties falling out. Making her eyes go wide as a moment later Hattie pulled out a s bag of cookies and squeled in delight at them.

"I said Im not completely heartless," he spoke Snapping her out of her staring to look at him. "I get them food and make sure they're well fed. ...What? Did you think I wouldn't provide for them? It's been almost a month since you're little incident so I came like any good king would and supply my people."

One of his clawed hands patted Bow on the head when the little girl hugged his tail but Poppy didn't notice. Her eyes went as wide as puddles as she stared at him like a cartoon character. .....A...Almost a month?? .....A MONTH!?!? SHE HAD BEEN COOPED UP HERE JUST WATCHING CARTOONS, PLAYING, AND WHATEVER ELSE FOR A MONTH!? PECKING PECKNECKS!!! She loved the kids as they were darlings, BUT SHE NEEDED SOME OUTSIDE WALK AROUND WIDE AREA TIME!! FOR PECKS SAKE!!! ...Well, that would also explain why the food in the fridge was starting to lower quite a bit. But seriously!? He was gone for a whole pecking (almost) month and didn't bother to tell her or visit!? Gee. What a swell boss. Poppy groaned and shook her head ....before sighing and walking around him and picking up the bag from the two girls, who at the moment, was picking up the fruit that spilt out but stopped and followed after her as she walked.

"Well, thank you for that brilliant update of yers. But ah'm goin' to that fitting or whatever tomorrow an' if ya'll don't like it then come with or too bad. But I ain't gonna beat 'round the bush anymore with these jobs."

Snatcher grumbled but SOMEHOW ended up agreeing to teleporting the trio into the Dead Bird Studios the very next day. Kinda surprised to find Poppy the one up and adam with the two girls still yawning but visibly excited they'd be getting to go somewhere today finally after being cooped up all the time. The teleporting worked as quickly as any other time he did it, when the girls and her grabbed a hold of his clawed hands. Purple energy completely took over the world around them like the many times he's done this before and swallowed them all whole, she was pretty used to this by now so she just stood patiently. Poppy closed her eyes when purple invaded her vision and the air suddenly shifted again to that blazing hot sunny desert area she saw before with the famous studios in front of them all. With Poppy in the lead the girls excitedly followed and Snatcher like in mafia town resumed to sticking into a shadow again. But this time Hattie's shadow. The two girls were babbling excitedly about how they were going to see Mr. Grooves put together their favorite story right before them. And speaking of said penguin, he was awaiting their arrival as soon as they stepped through the dimly lit hallway and into the lobby. The secritary was there too, the bird briefly looked up when the trio of gals came in but only gave them a glance before looking back to his computor screen and going back to work. Mr. Grooves lit up as soon as his eyes landed on Poppy and his large beak curled up in a smile.

"DARLING!! You're finally here!," he shouted sounding almost nervous as he rushed up to them frazzked and Poppy blinked as he grabbed her hand. He was sweating a bit from worrying. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't come!" Before she could say a word he turned and pulled her towards a pair of the giant pair of the doors to the right. "Come, come. There's so much to get done and so little time to do it!!"

"O-Oh..Ok?"

The doors creaked open with a massive creak and the sounds and sights that greeted her when they opened astonished her. The place would've been very dark if it wasn't for the giant lights on the ceiling shining brightly down onto the MASSIVE hussle n bussle of the people-...penguins inside. There must've been(at least to her) hundreds of penguins behind the door everywhere. Carrying things around, pushing giant colorful props or giant crates on wagons for whatever reason, a few penguins with headsets and clipbourds were ordering things into them and checking things over and over again on the papers in their flippers. Apprently it must've been surprising for the girls too because they were gawking around too as they walked. As soon as Mr. Grooves stepped in almost all the penguins who weren't moving things turned their attention to him as he briskly walked past leading the girls.

"Mr. Grooves," a lady penguin called out nervously. "Night Scene three collasped under the weight of too many stars hanging off it-"

"Remove any unneeded weight, but keep as many shiny stars as you can!," he quickly shouted back.

"Silver or gold ones!?"

"BOTH!!"

"Mr. Grooves! The steel poles for the support system came in-"

"Give them to the engineering team immediately!!"

"Sir! Coffee and lunch for staff arrived."

"Pass it out immediately!"

A whole bunch of 'Sir!'s and 'Mr. Grooves!''s and "Boss!"s was thrown by the multiple penguins around them and Mr. Grooves impressively shouted back while manevouring Poppy around and forward the moving crowd. Sometimes completely stopping her before she hit something before suddenly tugging her forward again making her almost trip multiple times. The girls not far behind him dodging between them all with much more impressive skilled than Poppy. Easily keeping up with the two.

"W-Where in tarnation are ya'll takin' me?", Poppy managed to force out before ducking under a plank of wood being carried passed them.

"Costume fitting!," he answered back quickly, "We're already ten minutes behind scheduale!"

It was seven in the morning. But that didn't matter to the rushing penguin it seemed when he suddenly made a sharp turn to the right which made Poppy yelp and almost trip over her own foot but luckily she didn't. usually she REALLY didn't like being pulled around and would've yanked her hand away long ago but she was kinda lost in this kinda environment and would've probably gotten lost again. The hallway was a little quieter but you can still hear the noise from behind them. The hallway was a lil more dimly lit than the giant room back there but they could still see the many red doors lining the left of them and they could DEFINATELY see the crew of people up ahead of them. Four humans(2 men 2 women), and two owls. One of the owls looked older than the other, a few grey feathers sticking out here and there, with rhinestone glasses a pink dress and a pin cushion strapped to her wrist. The other female owl behind her was holding a mountain of folded fabric and a small suitcase on top of it. The owl scowled angry, wings on her hips, and tapping her foot against the floor as Mr. Grooves ran up to her out of breath and wheezing.

"You're late," she stated calmly despite her face.

"I know, I know." He apologised still nervous. "Apologies for the misunderstanding, Ms. Talon. I should've told her what time to be here but all this pressure has been building on me I forgot."

The owl lady sighed and waved him off. "No matter. Now that she's here I can get the measurements to finish these orders."

Measurements?," Poppy asked curiously.

"For the costumes," Ms. Talon answered, shifting her glasses and looking Poppy over, "You must be the princess. It's about time you got here. I only have so much time to work on these and making costumes of this scale on such short notice aren't easy."

"Uh..Sorry, Ma'am."

"Oh don't apologize." A familiar figure stepped forward with long brown hair and copper eyes smiled at Poppy when the red head looked over at her. "After all woman are known to be fashionably late.~"

" Ms. Hazelle!" Poppy's face lit up seeing the familiar face of the witch. Making two yellow eyes pop out from Hattie's shadow at the mention of the name. "What are you doing here?"

Hazelle smirked and waved her off. "Don't call me miss. Im not that old.~ But to answer your question, I'm going to be your fabulous coworker for the movie-"

"REALLY?!," Bow asked wide eyed at Hazelle who nodded.

"Yep! You're looking at the evil step sister of this Starella character you're playing. I figured what better way to get to know my pal's new friend better-"

A wing shoved between them interrupting their conversation and turned Poppy's attention back onto the elderly bird as the door next to them opened and she gestured Poppy to it. "If you'll please? I have much work to do."

Poppy happily oblidged and walked through the door followed by both lady birds and waved a quick good bye to Hazelle. At the same time another penguin had rushed up to Mr. Grooves babbling wildly about something catching on fire and they needed him right away to assess the damages and the panicked penguin boss quickly agreed rushing away to help with whatever was wrong. Leaving the group of humans awaiting to be measured. No one noticed the way Hattie's shadow enlarged and creeped along the floor and up the wall until it was level headed with Hazelle who regarded it with a lazy gaze and smile. As two angry yellow eyes glared at her very core.

"W H A T A R E Y O U D O I N G?!," he whispered to her with bit and anger in his tone dripping with each word he spoke.

"Oh come on. You know I couldn't just pass up this chance to see how it plays out. Besides. Maybe I can help when things finally go south from all this mess building up. Can't take a broom and sweep it under the carpet this time, Snatchy."

"I. Am. WORKING ON IT!!" Hazelle shushed him when one or two people turned to them...before shrugging and going back to talking to whoever they were originally talking to. "....I just need some time to figure out the best way to tell her is all."

"What have you been doing all this time in that forest? Sitting on your butt reading and doing whatever you usually boringly do and avoiding it?"

".....No," he didn't sound very convincing and Hazelle groaned facepalming. "I swear. I know it. I just KNOW this is gonna end badly."

The girls were behind them and were surprised to see Mr. Thor and Mr. Timophy from the forest there. Apparently the museum they had gone on an expidition on had long sense closed after their freezing for who knows how long and had parted ways with Mr. Oldster looking for more work and had stumbled upon Mr. Grooves's ad in the newspaper. And had sucessfully taken two important roles in his play. With Mr. Thor as the Milkyway Prince and Mr. Timophy as Starella's Father. Well that was all swell and dandy with the beefy mafia woman with them being the evil step mother. Looks like it was all coming together and they excitedly babbled to themselves about how this would be the best show ever when another familiar face popped up next to them in the form of a small boy around their age.

"Timmy! Hi!," Bow greeted and fist bumped him when he held up his hand.

"Whatcha doing here?," Hattie asked him.

He casually shrugged. "Hazelle's been hired here and I wanted to tag along, eh? A real movie studio and getting to see the action in person. Pops thought it was 'a good educational experience' as he put it."

"Sounds like, Moon. Where is he anyways?" They hadn't seen him in like-...Forever.

"The spook the spook got shook him pretty good. He's staying in the comfort of that empty ghost zone for the time being." He Gave the two of them a curious look before asking. "By the way I meant to ask about that red haired lady who just went into that room. Who is she?"

"Oh. You mean Poppy?" Hattie asked and Timmy nodded and she shrugged. "She was locked in the crazy peckneck's mansion."

"Ya mean when noodle man stole your time piece? Moonjumper told me all about that part when he got home."

Hattie sighed. "It's a long boring story."

"I got time. Tell me."

And so Hattie spilt the whole story to him. In the mean time Poppy was getting poked and prodded by measuring tapes, fabric scrapes quickly cut from the base pattern were safety pinned around her. Ms. Talon explained that the base pattern was an experiment she'd made to make sure all the fabric pieces would fit right and that Poppy was able to move around comfortably in the actual costume and constantly asked how the movement felt and if anything was too tight, too loose, needed to be adjusted a size, if she had trouble walking around in it, etc. All the while at most it took maybe twenty to thirty minutes tops of Ms. Talon carefully walking Poppy move around in the dress and making adjustments whereever she decided needed it the most. Poppy was just going with this because she was the dress expert after all, and she learnt with everything going on for now it was better to just go with it unless she absolutely found it something she didn't want or really agree with. And so far there was nothing wrong with trying on a dress she was gonna have to use anyways. When the old bird was finally satisfied she had Poppy take off the prototype dress with her help and soon after sent her back out before calling in the next person in, which by coincidence happened to have been Hazelle. Also ironically none of the adults before this had noticed the kids chatter, but if Snatcher did he would've definately risked revealing himself when the girls told Timmy the entire tale of how Poppy came to be as his purple eyes widened in wonder.

"You're all kidding!"

Hattie shook her head. "Nope! That really happened."

"So...Finding all that hidden gold in the attic then? That was real too?," Timmy asked.

"Yep! We still got the gold skull to prove it! Like some pirate!," Hattie stated proudly but stopped when Poppy came over and smiled at them. "Hi Poppy!"

"Hey, sugarcube. Whatcha lot talkin' bout?," she asked.

"Hattie was just telling me the exciting discovery of you finding gold in the attic," Timmy answered quickly with a sweet smile. "Is it true there was a whole bunch of gold hidden under the staircase shaped like a castle?"

Unsuspecting anything Poppy only smiled at the little boy and nodded. "Yep! It's a long story but ah would appreciate it if ya'll wouldn't go 'round tellin' everyone 'bout that."

"Of course, Ma'am. I wouldn't dream of gossiping about something like that. It wouldn't be very kind of me would it?"

Her smile went wider as Snatcher glared at him from over her shoulder. Giving Timmy a suspicious glare. "Have ya'll been enjoyinh yer stay here then?"

He nodded. "Yes, Ma'am. It's very interesting to see all the action behind the cartoons and it's nice to take a break from magic lessons for once. Have you been liking it?"

She chuckled nervously and glanced back up the hallway to see Mr. Grooves chatting with another penguin who handed him a tall stack of papers. "You can say that. Truthfully Im nervous 'bout when the real action here is gonna start."

Timmy nodded. "Totally understandable, Miss. This does take a bit of work eh? Then again a wise man once said 'things get hard before they get better'. So you should have no need to worry!"

Snatcher couldn't stop the suspicious look he threw at the boy but he had to duck back into Hattie's shadow before the crowd of waiting people and penguins noticed a shadow with yellow eyes and freaked out. They were only there for a little while longer as Snatcher wanted to have one or two more words with Hazelle before they were all teleported back to the ship. But before that Mr. Grooves managed to pass out the stacks of papers to all the actors and actresses, explaining that it was the scripts for the play with their along with everyone's movements, places, and lines. Since they wouldn't be starting rehearsals until they could gaurentee the scenes would be completely be put together and for everyone to study, study, STUDY these scripts so they'd be prepared and read and to practice the movements and lines there in the mean time. Ok. Seemed simple enough in her eyes. The thing was about as think as your average library book and was expertly detailed and written to be very clear for everyone to read. Hats off to the script writer for their excellent skills. They were able to exchange a few words with Hazelle and Timmy before turning again to make their exit straight back home to Snatcher's orders, but not before Snatcher hissed one last thing at Hazelle.

''You BETTER not do anything foolish!," he hissed a warning at her to which she glared back.

"The only one acting 'foolish' around here is YOU, Prince. I'm just enjoying the back seat view in case I'm needed. If I was you, I'd be taking your own advice."

Snatcher gave her a blank look before silently slinking away from her and back down the halls after the girls who'd no doubt be dodging the working Penguin mob again. Hazelle nor anyone else noticed the thoughtful look Timmy was giving all of them and only snapped to attention once Hazelle decided it was also time for them to leave. And get him back home to Moonjumper who'd be eagerly awaiting his arrival back home and Timmy's progress report on what Hattie told her all about Poppy. And tell him when he arrived home and Hazelle had left they did.

"My boy. What did you find out?"

"....*sigh* Sit down. It's gonna be a wild one."

The days were passing filled with reading and trying to make heads and tails of the practically book Poppy was handed by the penguin and would often go over the lines and movements in her head and spare time. She once compared the script to the actually Starella book and noticed a the lines and the movements described in the script were the same in the book, only more detailed since this would be a real life action play and not just a picture book being read to them. They would have actual people like Poppy and Hazelle be on stage for the whole veiwing pleasure. The whole thing made her get MAJOR butterflies in her stomach especially since she didn't know WHEN she was about to get called back for actual rehearsals with people and filming crew for LIVE television. But she pushed on. Practicing herself (or at least trying to)in the attic with no one else watching and trying to play and manage two energentic lil girls at the same time and taking care of them the next couple of days too. Bow having a slightly much more clingy but kinda cute bond building between the two. Poppy smiled whenever she agreed to play pretend with her or helped her comb through her curls and in turn letting her and Hattie braid her hair or doing whatever do they wanted to try out on her. And Hattie asking her every so often to lift something as she was 'So cool!' in her words when she did things like a superhero. And of course excitedly asking her to read to them every night and sometimes during the day. Mostly it was Starella since they were so excited about the play coming out of their favorite bedtime story. Which often included Poppy tucking the two girls in afterwards and leaving to flop her own exhausted self into the small bed made of pillows she had made for herself. And it was one night when they were sleepily blinking against the soft pillows as Poppy read that she got the surprise of her life.

"Starella happily agreed and her father returned. Upon hearing what her Stepmother and Stepsister had done while he was away, he banished them from his home never to return again." She turned to the last page where it showed a very elaborate wedding and the Prince and Starella being the ones to be wed. "After a few years of letting their love and fondness for each other grow, Starella and the prince were finally married. The End." Poppy closed the book and stood up. Stretching out her back and yawning herself as she walked over to the night stand beside the bed with the lit lamp. She found that the night stand would be the book's new home for a while since they kept requesting it so much. Not that she actually had any objections to reading it so much, after all she needed as much info on the book as possible. The book was placed down and the lamp shut off cutting off most of the light in the large room minus the nightlight and Poppy smiled at the two children trying to blink awake at her. "Ok. Bed time you two."

Bow smiled at the lady pulling the rocket ship patterned blanket up to their shoulders. "Poppy...Can I call you mama?"

The blanket stopped and blue eyes looked at Bow at the sudden question- "I wanna call you mom too!" Hattie piped up shifting a little bit closer towards Bow's side of the bed and Poppy's shocked gaze snapped over to the girl who's eyes lit up with even more sparkle.

Mom?....A REAL MOM!! Just for them. Just like Snatcher said. A mom who could pecking bench press a mafia, read them stories, and was gonna be a star!! Poppy on the other head completely blanked out as if her brain was a computor and she couldn't process the info she heard properly. ....Mom? Mom who? Her?! Oh NO! No. Surely they couldn't have been referring to Poppy herself. I mean her a mom? Ha! In her dreams. Don't let it fool you, she absolutely adored children. Thought they were the cutest things since rosebuds, and these two were no exception. She loved Hattie's adventerous and free spirit. Reminded her of herself when she was a little girl. And Bow was such a sweet little girl if not also adventurous in her own ways, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't upset these two sweet kids didn't have any more family beyond the kooky ghost. BUT HER A MOM?! Honestly she's never seen herself having any kind of children in her life let alone a mom!!

"Uh- ....Who me?," she managed to stutter out through her stupor finally before shaking her head. "Y-Ya'll must be mistaken. Ya wouldn't w-want me as a mum. I wouldn't be good at it."

"B-But...You're always telling us stories," Bow reasoned face a little crestfallen, "And playing with us."

"And cooking and cleaning and you're really, REALLY cool!!," Hattie added, "And protecting us."

"W-Well yes. T-That's what I'm supposed to do b-because Snatcher asked me too-"

"So you love, Snatcher?," Hattie asked leaning her head forward to look at Poppy better. "If you guys are a couple then that really makes you our Mom!"

Poppy did a complete 180 stop, rewind, and replay of hattie's question in her mind before a pink rose in her cheeks and she stammered. "W-WHA- Now d-don't you get those silly thoughts in yer head! Your daddy's a very nice man- uh....Ghost. But that don't mean we're cohootin' like love birds! The most we are is...maybe pals, but that's 'bout it. Ya'll don't have a step mum-''

"We don't have any moms."

The sad tone in Bow's voice made Poppy pause in anything else was about to say. That reality hit hard in her mind as all of Snatcher's words came a rushing back to her-

"They're orphans." " They have no one else." "I don't know anything about Bow's past and neither does she. As far as I know she was raised in a crummy orphanage her whole life before she decided to run away and get tangled up in the mess Hattie made when she first arrived." "Turns out she never had anything there to begin with." "I don't know how long she was out there and I don't know why she wanted to go back to where she came from or what happened to make her flee again. Never asked. But I also never questioned it when she came back and decided not to leave again. She's a smart kid. Here there's people who care about her and want her to be safe."

They...They really didn't have anyone else besides themselves and that ghost. Any potential moms weren't here for whatever reason. They probably didn't even have a constant lady figure around to play with or to look up to. But there was one giant problem with this...Poppy wasn't a mother. She never planned or really wanted to be a mother, and she wasn't planning on staying here forever. She had her own life plans ahead of her she wanted to fullfill. But-....What was she supposed to tell these girls!? They really had no mother to look up to and she wasn't interested in being their mum-

"Don't you love us?," Bow innocently asked in a low voice both children gazing at her with large almost worried eyes.

Poppy still sat there in an uncomfortable silence, the sudden question making any answer die on her tongue immediately after gazing into those sad inoccent eyes of the kids who literally saved her life on one or two occasions, set her free, and honestly made her smile more than she had for a long time. Life almost felt normal behind the chaotic mess it really was.

"Of course I do.....Ya'll may..c-call me that if ya really want to. Ah don't mind."

She may have been lying to herself on that last part but it was too late to take any of that back now as she slowly pulled the blanket the rest of the way up and stood there watching as they fell asleep with happy smiles on their faces. Their new mother. Her a new mother. Watching over her children before her emotional departure to the control room. How does she keep getting herself into these situations? HOW!? How was she supposed to be dealing with any of this now that she was a 'mother' on top of the giant pile of mess she was supposed to be cleaning up herself. Two debts and an (not sure if she wanted or not) title for two little girls' happiness. Things couldn't possibly get anymore worse for her. The silence of the control room she crawled into was one good thing at least. It could give her peace of mind knowing that the only sounds came from Rumbi as he softly swept to and fro everywhere. It was a blessing really. All she needed while passing the large windows as she took a glance out to look at the beautiful world down below....And was met with the twitching figure of red eyes pressing against the glass.

She screamed.

#Snatcher

0 notes

keepcalmimthecupcake · 6 years ago

Text

She’s From Boston part 8

Steve McGarrett x ofc

Word count : 1616

Warnings: None

A/N: I have and will be taking some creative liberties as to Sophie’s schooling. Kind of combining a few different ways schools run and such. Shhhh. Just let it happen. XD Once again, thanks to my lovely beta @fandomoniumflurry If you want to catch up on the series, here is where you can find the other parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Feedback is lovely and fuels my muse’s fire. If you enjoy my work and would like to buy me a coffee, you can do so here. You can find all my works here.

H50 taggers:

@fandomoniumflurry

@hawaiianohana15

Steve had taken Sophie to the Culinary Institute of the Pacific admissions office less than an hour after she’d disclosed more of her past to him and had waited there while she filled out her application. There was a fee, of course, and of course the commander paid for it, much to Sophie’s dismay. She appreciated his help, but she didn’t want him paying her way all the time. “Consider it an investment in the future.” he said, echoing Michael’s words before she’d left Massachusetts. “You learn to cook even better than you already do, I get to reap the rewards of being your guinea pig. It’s a win-win situation.” Steve stated with a bright smile. Sophie couldn’t argue with him, especially when he flashed that mesmerizing grin at her.

She was anxious and on edge every time she checked the mail for the next week and a half. The admissions process was stressful with all the waiting. This was the only school she’d applied to so far and if she got in, she could start within a month. She busied herself with cleaning up the house. Laundry was done, floors swept and mopped, windows washed, on just the first day. Steve came home that night and chuckled as he looked around. “The place hasn’t been this clean in years. You know, you don’t have to do everything in one day.” He gave her a smile and a gentle hug. “It looks really good but seriously. Don’t wear yourself out. You’ve done a lot today. Junior should be here soon. Let’s all go grab dinner somewhere.”

That night was her first time at the restaurant of the Hilton Hawaiian Village. She’d stayed there two weeks when she first arrived, but never dined in their restaurant, always choosing cheaper food from a small grocery store a few streets over. The place was fantastic! The entertainment was amazing and of course, the company was great. She found herself examining the food when it was brought to them, noticing how it was presented and other such things she was sure to learn when she got into cooking school. It wouldn’t hurt to take some notes beforehand.

The dinner was great and by the time the trio arrived back home, Sophie was more than ready to fall into bed. The next few days she busied herself with some light cleaning and some reading. On the third afternoon, she decided to go online to see if there was a craft store nearby. To her happiness, there was! And, she discovered, it was on the bus line. She took what little money she had left and made her way to the shop.

She hadn’t been in a craft store in many years. Brian had never allowed her to do much that she sought pleasure in. Crocheting certainly was off the list. But as she looked around at the rows and rows of different yarns on the shelves, her eyes glistened with tears. She remembered sitting on Nana and Papa’s front porch trying to learn how to begin a project. It took her a few times, but Nana had been very patient with her and exclaimed with joy when she finally got it right.

The blanket that she’d abandoned after her parents were killed still sat unfinished in a box in Michael and Lydia’s garage. Maybe one day she would finish it. But now, she wanted to begin something new. She picked out several skeins of yarn, the colors of camouflage, and found a few hooks that were the sizes she would need. Once the items were purchased, she made her way back to the house and begun what would be a gift for Steve.

Over the next several days, after her housework duties were finished, she worked on the commander’s present. It got a little frustrating on a few parts, but she was able to figure it out and things were coming along quite nicely now. It was almost finished. On day nine, Steve had come in with a few pieces of mail. “Is there a Miss Sophie Russo in the house?” he’d called out, a bright smile on his face. “I have what could be a very important letter for her.”

Sophie rushed out from the kitchen where she was fixing herself a light snack and snatched the envelope from him. She tore it open and her eyes began welling up with tears as she read. She had to read it over a few times before the message sank in. “I got in.” she stated flatly. “They…...I GOT IN!” Her face broke into a huge smile and she flung her arms around around Steve’s neck. “Thank you, Steve!” She showed him the letter, the smile never leaving her face. He, too, was all smiles as he read the letter and congratulated her. “This calls for a celebration! I need to make some calls.”

He went upstairs to shower and make his calls as she sat looking over the materials the package contained. She’d have to get some supplies and books, but that could wait til tomorrow at least. Tonight, she would bask in this victory to reclaiming herself in full. When Steve came back down, he informed her that they were going out for dinner with the ohana. Jerry, Kamekona, Flippa, Lou, Adam, Tani, Danny and Junior would be joining them to celebrate Sophie’s big day.

She once again took some note of how the food was presented but didn’t allow herself to think too much on this. Instead, she got caught up in the atmosphere of the night. Their party was a little boisterous, but everyone was in good spirits and she laughed more than she had for a very long time. That was, until the waitress kept trying to make passes at Steve. Sophie scowled slightly at this, but didn’t say anything. Steve was free to talk to or date whoever he wanted to. One of the times, she noticed Adam looking at her during a scowl and he raised a brow. She quickly looked away and was very interested in the conversation Jerry was having with Lou.

Several times this waitress came back and tried to capture Steve’s attention and it annoyed Sophie. Still, she kept quiet about it. She didn’t understand why she was feeling so annoyed by this. Steve was her friend, her roommate, her employer even. Why was this stupid waitress getting on her nerves so much? Steve hadn’t responded to her advances, Sophie was glad to see, but that didn’t stop the wench from trying. Maybe she’s just trying a little too hard to get a good tip Sophie thought, and put the girl out of her mind to enjoy the rest of the evening.

Much food and many drinks later, the group dispersed to go home. Steve, only having had a couple beers, drove Tani and Danny home, then returned for Sophie and Junior. Once they arrived back home, Sophie sleepily wished the two men a good night and trudged up to her room. She’d intended to work more on Steve’s blanket, but instead she fell on her bed and went right to sleep.

The next morning when she woke, the house was empty. There was a note from Steve on the fridge telling her that they’d had to get to the office early today. She went about making herself some breakfast then did the dishes before putting a load of laundry in the machine. While the clothes were washing, she sat down and worked on the blanket. With any luck, she’d have it finished by this afternoon. The sun was bright and just as she decided she wanted to go sit in the back yard and read for a bit, there was a knock on the door.

She opened the door and was surprised when a delivery man from a florists’ shop stood there. “Sophie Russo?” he asked and she nodded. He smiled and pushed a beautiful arrangement of flowers toward her. “If you could sign right here……” She signed his paper and thanked him, then took the vase inside. There was a card in the middle that said simply “To Sophie. From your secret admirer.”

Her brows narrowed as she thought about who these could be from. She didn’t know many people here yet and most of those she did were already taken. None of them had shown any interest in her in that manner. She allowed herself a smile when she wondered if they were from Steve. This would be something he would do just to brighten her day, but it was still early and he was at work. He wouldn’t have had time to call for the delivery. Then panic set in when she thought about someone else they could be from. Had Brian found her? Did he know where she was staying? Suddenly, she didn’t want to be home alone anymore.

She was startled by the buzzing of the washer indicating that the load was finished. She quickly shoved the clothes in the dryer, turned it on and made her way outside and across the street to Miss Kala’s home. She knocked on the door and was glad when the woman answered. Sophie asked for a ride into town and Kala grabbed her keys and the pair was off. Sophie tried to keep her panic to a minimum and not let anyone know she was upset. When she got to the office, she greeted Jerry with a smile. “Hey, Jerry. Mind if I hang out a little while? It was kind of boring sitting at the house by myself.” was all that was offered as an explanation.

#She's From Boston #Hawaii Five-0 #H50 #Hawaii Five-0 fic #H50 fic #Steve McGarrett #boo writes

14 notes · View notes

incognitofujoshi · 6 years ago

Text

I Think I’ve Always Cared for You Ch. 4 (T-rated)

At the end of their 4th period class, Japanese, the students of class 1-A packed up, grouped up, and bolted for lunch. Todoroki, Midoriya, Uraraka, Asui, and Iida lingered, awaiting everyone else to file out first.

Asui and Uraraka both went over to Deku’s desk. “Are you ready for lunch, Midoriya Kun?” Asui put her right hand up to her face, as if resting her cheek in her palm. Her tongue hung out to the side, with a grin.

“Almost.” Izuku pulled his bag over his shoulder and walked up to Shoto’s desk. “Todoroki Kun, will you join us for lunch?” He tilted his head to the side and smiled wide. His eyes closed and it added to the adorable glow around him.

Shoto almost swallowed his own tongue. Izuku was too cute for his own good. He stood pin straight.

“Uwwaaaa! Todoroki Kun is having lunch with us?” Uraraka rushed over, and put her hands on her cheeks in awe.

Shoto nodded. “If I’m not intruding…” He looked down at the ground, and awaited their answers.

“Of course not! I invited you.” Izuku reached his hand out, and put it on Shoto’s shoulder. He squeezed it reassuringly. The red and white haired young man looked over to Izuku’s hand, and let a rose color dust across his nose.

“Please join us!” Iida walked up to the group, and smiled invitingly. He put his hand on Shoto’s other shoulder.

“Lunch will be so much more fun with you, Todoroki Kun”, Asui croaked.

“So what’s your favorite food?”, Uraraka asked, already convinced he was coming.

Beginning to feel overwhelmed, Shoto distracted himself with grabbing his school bag off of the back of his chair. “I really like Soba.” He hit his spiral, with loose papers stacked atop it, against the surface of his desk to keep everything level , before placing them in his desk.

When he looked back up, everyone stared at him with adoring smiles. Shoto wasn’t sure what to do. His classmates were staring at him. His palms began to sweat, and he darted his eyes around, uncomfortable, but not displeased.

Izuku grabbed his hand, to lead him out of the classroom, to the Lunch Rush Cafeteria. “ Did you pack your lunch? Or are you getting it here?”

As Midoriya and Todoroki walked out of the classroom, Iida, Asui, and Uraraka followed behind them, closely. “I don’t see Todoroki Kun in the cafeteria often.” Asui contemplated, aloud.

Uraraka put her index finger to her chin and nodded in agreement. Iida responded, by asking, “Todoroki Kun, do you usually eat outside?”

“I packed my lunch.” He answered Izuku, then turned to Iida. “And sometimes; I was going to today. The wind felt good this morning.” Shoto allowed his freckled guide to lead him down the hallways of UA, so he could continue to feel him hold his hand.

“That sounds great! I need to get my lunch in the cafeteria; can I meet you by the entrance?” Iida turned from Shoto to the two young women. “Did you bring your lunches Uraraka and Asui?”

“Our lunch is packed.” Uraraka turned to Asui and rubbed the back of her neck, nervously. “I just got some new jellies, and I know you like Jelly, so I made us PB&J sandwiches.”

“Thank You Ochaco Chan!” Tsuyu jumped up to hug Ochaco from the side. “You’re so thoughtful!” Ochaco used her anti-gravity quirk to lighten Tsu, and carry her on her back.

“I still need to get mine too, Iida Kun.” Izuku let go of Shoto’s hand, and turned to Iida, once they reached the entrance of the cafeteria.

With quick goodbyes, Uraraka, Asui, and Todoroki went to pick up their lunches, while Iida and Midoriya waited in line to received theirs. Asui and Uraraka were the first to arrive at their meeting spot. Todoroki was the next to arrive, and spied them both conversing intimately. He approached slowly, as not to startle them, but as soon as he came into their view, their eyes were locked on him.

“Can we ask you something Todoroki Kun?” Uraraka and Asui both cornered him by the cafeteria entrance.

He knew he was trapped, and he should have been expecting the question, but the boldness still shocked him. Uraraka rose on her tip toes, Asui behind her, and whispered in Todoroki’s ear, “Do you like Midoriya Kun?”

In that moment, Shoto was grateful that his container with his soba was well wrapped in the blanket he’d grabbed, as it would have surely spilled everywhere when he dropped it in surprise. He quickly crouched down to pick up his lunch, and avoid the awkward stares. “Doesn’t everyone? He’s friends with the whole class.”

Ochaco, piecing his response and pink visage together, pushed the question. “…I mean romantically. We won’t tell anyone.” She smiled smugly.

“What if I do?” Shoto’s defensive nature kicked in, seeing her over-confident expression.

“Then Ochaco Chan and I want to help.” Asui answered. Both of the women smiled at him, and gave him knowing winks.

Realizing he had answered their question inadvertently with his antics, and hearing their wish to help, Shoto let a confused and frustrated sigh slip from his lips. Weighing the pros and cons of their help, he ultimately decided that they knew Izuku better than he did. Any help was welcome, when you didn’t know anything about relationships. “Thank You.”

Uraraka and Asui jumped up and down, filled with glee.

Both Midoriya and Iida walked up to the group, lunches in hand, and greeted everyone. “So where do you normally sit, Todoroki Kun?”, Midoriya inquired.

Shoto lead them around the back of the school, to a shady side under a large tree. The blanket he had wrapped around his lunch was used to lay on the ground. Uraraka and Midoriya, “oooooh”d and “aaahhhhh”d. Iida thanked Todoroki for the consideration. Asui thanked him for his thoughtfulness.

The group sat down and tore into their lunches. No one talked until, at least, half of their lunches were down. Then, their conversations varied from All Might, to which classes they found difficult, to what they enjoyed doing in their time off.

Even though Shoto was nervous about the experience, he hadn’t ever enjoyed his classmate’s company more than now, during this lunch. He smiled, chuckled, and found similarities between each of the students there.

At the end of lunch, the newly formed Dekusquad left for English class. They had this, and one more class for the day, before they were free for the weekend.

Algebra came to an end, after English, and Midoriya waited by Todoroki’s desk, as he packed up for the day. Iida, Uraraka, and Asui joined them.

“Did you have any plans tonight?”, Uraraka asked the squad.

“I must study.” Iida answered immediately.

“But it’s the weekend!”, Uraraka complained. “What about you, Tsu Chan?”

“I’m free.” Asui put up two of her fingers to give Ochaco a peace sign. Asui and Uraraka looked to Midoriya and Todoroki for their answers.

“I’m, actually, quite tired.”, Todoroki began to excuse himself for the evening, only to have Midoriya answer at the same time. “I’m a little sleepy.”

“Awwwwww!” Uraraka squeezed her eyes shut. “Then I guess it’s just Asui and me!”

“That’s ok Ochaco Chan.”, Tsu smiled. “We can watch that funny movie together, if you want.”

Bidding them a good evening, Uraraka and Asui took off for their evening together. The three young men exited, after the women, and conversed about an English test on the way to the dorms. Once inside the common room, Iida set his school bag by the couch, and began to take out his study material. He’d explained that he wanted to use the space before everyone else gathered there for games and lounging.

Without intending to, Shoto had followed Izuku to his room. When Izuku opened his door, he quickly turned around to ask, “Were you still tired, To -Shoto?” His All Might homage sparkled through the slit in the door behind him.

“Oh,” one nervous chuckle escaped the ice and fire student’s throat. “I suppose I am. I’ll just be heading to my room.” He bowed, respectfully, and took flight towards his dorm’s direction. He’d actually been hoping to spend special time with just Izuku, but he didn’t want his thoughts to be conspicuous.

As soon as Shoto entered his room, he set his bag aside, and unrolled his futon to lay down. Today had been great, but so draining. He let his legs give out, and slammed into his bed. “Shit.”, he said to no one in particular. He had forgotten to do laundry. ‘It’s always when you lay down.’

He got up, grabbed his hamper, and ran downstairs, to the laundry room. Since no one else’s clothes were running, he threw his clothes in one washer and his blanket into another one, near by. Everyone always rushed to do their laundry in the morning. ‘You think they’d learn.’ He shook his head at the thought.

While waiting, Shoto left for the kitchen. He went to the fridge to grab some of his apple juice, and some white rice he’d portioned out. Instead of sitting, he ate standing up, secluded. With one bite, he decided to add some flavor. Nori flakes and sesame were added, and he leaned against the pantry to continue eating by himself.

Ashido, seated by Kirishima, Bakugo, and Kaminari, in the common room, looked over at the sad scene. She knew Kirishima had experience with romance, and looked over to him. “Kiri, how would you help a friend who was having a hard time confessing to someone?”

Kirishima’s eyes opened wide in shock, and he blushed. He, quickly, looked back at Bakugo. Bakugo scowled and looked away, arms crossed. “Uuuuh… Well I just - or, I would try to get them alone together. The more time they have alone, the harder it will be to ignore their feelings.” Bakugo looked like he was ready to rip something’s arms off.

Ashido nodded. She did the first thing that she thought would help, and pulled out her phone. She need Uraraka and Yaoyorozu’s opinions. They were the closest girls to Midoriya and Todoroki. If they didn’t know how to get the two alone, no one would.

After eating, Shoto went back to the laundry room to throw his clothes and blanket in the dryers. He leaned against the machines and let himself reflect. It had been a little while.

Fatigued, the dual quirked student slid down to sit in front of the dryer. His first thoughts were to try and decide the exact moment he realized his feelings for Izuku were romantic. That one was easy: it was at the Sports Festival. Izuku had put everything on the line just to help him realize his true potential as Hero Shoto. He realized the most important thing he cared about in life was to become the best hero, not by rejecting his father’s means, but by using all of his. Izuku had broken through his defensive walls, and changed him, all in the span of less than half an hour.

Next, he decided to trace back his memories to the first moment he knew he was attracted to Izuku. Shoto thought about when he’d challenged him. Yes; he’d been attracted then. Thinking back further grew difficult. Basking in the memories of all the times he’d spent with Izuku, he fell asleep against the warm drying machine.

Zzzzzt. Todoroki’s phone vibrated. “Where are you?”, it read. Midoriya had sent the message. He’d answer it when he got back to his room. Shoto turned around and realized that the dryers were done. He, groggily, took his fresh clothing and blanket out to head upstairs.

Around the corner, on the floor his room was on, Shoto saw Izuku pacing outside of his door. “Hey.”

The angel faced student jumped. “Ah! Shoto Kun, you scared me!” Deku rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment, and laughed off his nerves. He suddenly became serious and a determined look crossed his face. “Are you ok?”

“What?” Shoto was still too tired to grasp what he meant.

“Ashido, Yaoyorozu, AND Uraraka all said you needed to talk to me.” Izuku walked closer to him, concerned. He put a hand up to grab Shoto’s shoulder, but in a sleepy stupor, the fire and ice hero rested his face in Izuku’s palm.

“I’m tired. But if you want to talk, we can hang out in my dorm.”

Realization dawned on Izuku that Shoto was half-asleep. He couldn’t blame him, with the early wake up call he’d given him. The green haired cherub chuckled at sleepy Shoto. ‘I’ve never seen him like this. He’s so innocent.’, Izuku cooed in his mind.

Shoto shifted his hamper into one arm, and used his newly freed hand to grab Izuku’s. He lead him into his room. “Please make yourself comfortable.” The drained young man put his hamper down and took out a few articles of clothing to fold.

“I can help you with that.”

“No. No. S’ok. You can pull up some videos on my laptop if you want.” Shoto’s sentences came out with large spaces between them.

Izuku laughed and pulled up Youtube.

“SUGOOOOOI” Opening his history, majority of the videos were about All Might. Izuku set Shoto’s laptop on his desk, nearby, and watched a few Silver Age videos as Shoto folded his clothing. He stacked his shirts and pants on the ground, too tired to organize them in his dresser.

When he was finished, Shoto joined the amazed fanboy on his Futon, and leaned against him. ��Turn on the one… where All Mi…” the words were lost as the tired young man began to fall asleep against his crush. Soft breaths fell from his lips.

Lost in the warmth flowing into his side, and the heroic deeds of All Might on the screen, Deku became comfortable and, also, fell asleep.

A memory began to emerge from the darkness of Shoto’s vision. Sunlight kissed a young man’s already tanned skin. He looked so nervous. His tender cheeks were pink. Freckles dotted under his tired eyes. Those eyes were green jewels. He kept licking his lips and shaking his head in a way that looked like he talked to himself. Shoto couldn’t give time into watching this small, fragile man, because he needed to focus. It was their first day of school, and he’d just laid eyes on the whelp. It was ridiculous how he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Talk about frustrating. A musical laugh escaped from the student. The man in front of him turned to make eye contact with him.

Shoto felt too hot, and shifted awake. He was on his back, in bed, but his blankets weren’t there. ‘Why am I hot?’ He turned to his left, to seek cool pillow, and was instead greeted by soft hair. Like a sudden blow to the chest, he remembered Izuku coming to his room to talk, him folding his laundry, and then watching an All Might video. He, then, remembered his dream. It was the first time he laid eyes on the precious hero in front of him. The thought struck him, that this wasn’t just some crush. He’d been attracted to Izuku from the moment he saw him, and he was falling for him with each new time they were together. Quickly.

Overcome with deep seated emotion, instinct drew him in, when the sleeping hero nuzzled into Shoto’s cold side, that was now on the bed instead of next to him. The rapidly heating man propped himself up, over Izuku. He leaned down and touched his soft bottom lip, just barely, with his own.

“Shoto?”

Author’s Note: Sorry for the long chapter. Just had to start up some DRAAAAMAAAAA. Feel free to re-blog if you like it : ) Just don’t steal, please.

#my hero academia #todoroki shouto #midoriya izuku #todoroki x midoriya #tododeku #katsuki bakugou #Kirishima Eijirou #bakushima #ithinkivealwayscaredforyou #firstkiss

57 notes · View notes

bangchanshehe · 7 years ago

Text

Andromeda pt. 10

You were no one, a goody-two-shoes who always played by the rules. When you decided to change yourself and live a little more dangerously you got caught up in Taemin’s trap. He had no use for you and no desire to have you. You were a toy and a time killer. But, he just so happened to have a lot of time and you happened to be his new favorite play thing.

word count: 2.5k

You pulled into the parking space and quickly parked before running up the stairs and banging on her front door. Knowing her it would scare the absolute shit out of her to hear the knocking on her door this late at night, but right now you really needed her to nut up. Finally a few minutes later her door cracked open and she peeked out at you and sighed once she realized that you weren’t a threat. She opened the door wide and you pushed your way inside.

“What in the world are you doing? And where have you been?!” she shrieked at you

“It’s a long story and I can’t really talk about it, I just need to crash here tonight while I figure some things out” you confessed hoping that she would accept only what little you would tell her

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” she asked with wide eyes and then she gasped “Are loan sharks or gang members after you?”

“No, nothing like that. I just can’t go home right now, I’ve got too much stuff going on and I needed to get away” you lied hoping she’d take the bait

“okay” she nodded before she turned to the hall closet to pull out a pillow and a blanket for you. “here you can use these” she handed them to you and you smiled at her

“thank you” you said quietly

“hmm… I’m going to bed I’ve got to be up early tomorrow” she said while yawning and walking back to her room

When she finally made it inside her room and she shut her door you let out a huge breath of air and plopped down on the couch. You finally closed your eyes for a moment and just allowed the silence to consume you before you had to think about what you were going to do next. You didn’t have your phone, keys, money or clothes. You were utterly screwed and you knew that you would eventually have to go back and get your things but you also knew that you weren’t desperate enough to go yet.

You settled into the couch and tried desperately to close your eyes and focus on the appending sleep rather than what was happening outside of the four walls of your friend’s apartment. And soon enough your adrenaline dissipated and your eyes fell shut.

You woke up the next morning to the sound of rummaging through the apartment and your heart immediately began to race. You became hyper aware of your surroundings and you jumped off the couch into a defensive position.

“What are you doing?” your friend asked you

“oh…” you immediately relaxed and tried to come up with a good excuse “You just startled me and it woke me up” you explained without telling her everything.

“whatever. Stay in as long as you like, just be sure and lock the door behind you.” she said tightening the lid to a thermos and walking towards the front door, ready to leave for work “oh and by the way, I left my key to your place on the bar. You didn’t bring your keys with you so I assume you’ll be needing it.” She smiled at you and then stepped out of the apartment

God bless that woman

You turned and looked at the key sitting by itself on the bar and you battled with yourself if you wanted to go to your place or not. You knew that if Taemin had half the brain that you knew he had the first place that he should go looking for you at is your apartment. And a small part of you wanted to see him, but the images of him and Minho fighting so brutally constantly flashed in your mind making you paranoid of what the future would be like. Could things ever be the same again after such a dramatic fight?

And then your mind began to wander even farther.

How did the fight end? Is Minho in a million pieces? Your heart started to hurt at the thought of him being hurt or worse but when you imagined Taemin being possibly hurt your heart began to race and a sting came to your eyes making them water up. You didn’t want to think about either of them being hurt after such a fight with each other, but you imagined that it didn’t end well with Taemin’s territorial tendencies towards you.

You thought of returning to see what happened. To leave that key on the bar and go back and see the damages of the two powerful men fighting each other head on. But if something did happen you didn’t want to see the bloody aftermath.

You glanced back at the key and let out a sigh. You couldn’t stay here and hide forever! And if you ever wanted to get your life back you would eventually have to go back. You got up and stalked around the kitchen cabinets to find a pen and a pencil in the junk drawer that you knew she kept a note pad in and quickly wrote down a thank you note. You folded up your blanket and placed it neatly on your pillow before you grabbed your key and headed for your apartment.

Once you locked and closed your friend’s apartment door you peeked around the parking lot to see if there was anyone outside and made a b-line straight towards Taemin’s car. You jumped inside revved the engine and sped off towards your apartment. If he was there waiting for you then so be it. You just wanted to get everything over with and know that he was okay.

You pulled into your parking lot and let out a shaky breath before you worked up the nerve to climb the stairs and go into your small apartment. The climb up felt like a hike and when you slid the key into the door your heart began to race. You took a quick breath and then unlocked and opened the door as if ripping off the band-aid.

Your eyes quickly scanned the apartment and you found that it was completely empty. You relaxed and shut the door behind you, but strangely you were a little upset that he wasn’t there. It felt empty and alone and you half expected to see him sitting on the couch or sitting at the kitchen waiting grumpily for you to come home any minute. You began to wonder that maybe things really weren’t okay and wondered if you really should possibly go back.

You decided that after tonight you would go back. You owed it to yourself and to taemin to be happy and an active part of the relationship. You knew that it was no longer just a one sided love with taemin and that you definitely did have feelings for him, that only seemed to get stronger by the day. You looked down at your hand at your ring and you smiled, thinking that things could work out if they weren’t already too damaged. But for now you were going to give yourself one last day of normalcy. You at least deserved that much. Your bed sheets weren’t even washed from your hook up with Minho. You looked around the place and decided that some much needed cleaning would be perfect for distracting you of all things Taemin and Minho and decided to get to work.

An hour and a half later you had dusted and shined every surface of the house, stripped your bed and done the laundry, swept, mopped and put things away. It was starting to feel more like your average life again, except you couldn’t help but notice the belongings that you used to have there were no longer here. Now they were across town at Taemin’s house. Your other home.

Everything was exactly how it should be and all that was left was your bedding in the dryer. You took a seat on the couch and turned on the tv to flip through the channels, and the first thing that came on was vampire diaries. You sighed and rolled your eyes thinking how stupid the whole commercialized concept of vampires was and changed the channel. But to your complete displeasure Twilight was showing. You groaned and turned off the tv all together.

You only wanted to do one thing and that was completely soak in the freedom of a single woman with no commitments or attachments, but the universe was throwing your fate at you with every opportunity it had. You fell back on the couch and closed your eyes trying to mentally block out all incoming thoughts about Taemin. And nothing worked until your stomach growled. You smiled down at your stomach and jumped up to look through your refrigerator. You were low on options and sighed trying to low your standards and think of anything that you could make as a meal out of the few things that you had to offer. But nothing sounded pleasing enough to make you settle for. You suddenly remembered that in your own junk drawer you had coupons and left over change piled up and abandoned for a rainy day and giggled as you opened it up and started to pull out any money or useful coupons.

You had three expired coupons and $6 in change. You sat down at your kitchen table and thought about what you should do with such little money and decided that the only thing that would last you for both meals would be ramen. So you put on flip flops and went down to the corner store just down the street from your apartment. You didn’t bother taking the car but walked instead thinking that the sunlight and wind blowing around you could do you some justice.

You soaked in all of the sunlight and as soon as you got to the store you loaded up a basket with ramen and a candy bar for later. A bath and chocolate sounded like the perfect ending to your little get away. You checked out and began to walk back quickly in an attempt to not ruin the chocolate bar too much and settled in as soon as you got home ready to have a bowled of steaming hot ramen and take a power nap. If you were going to eventually like forever and be indifferent to food you figured you might as well just get your fill of everything that you wanted now, right?

You sat over your table with the tv on and ate your noodles as you watched the news. Really nothing exciting was happening in retrospect to your life changing past 72 hours. The president did something bad again, or another company got busted for immoral character. It was all the same thing over and over again just on a different day and you sighed thinking that things would probably be the same 20, 40 or 100 years down the road. You finished your bowl before you knew it and pushed your bowl away. Dishes be damned, today was your day. And made your way to your bedroom to take a afternoon nap. You turned on the fan, turned off the light and jumped on your familiar bed. You cuddled the pillow close to you and drifted away into a light sleep.

You didn’t know what time it was when you heard banging on your door, but it certainly woke you up out of your sleep. You yawned and stretched as you walked still half-asleep to your front door and swung it open wide without a single thought to who might be on the other side. But as soon as your eyes met Taemin’s it was like your sleeping haze was immediately wiped away.

Your own went wide and you stood frozen completely at a loss for what to do. And Taemin only stood there staring straight back at you too. You looked over him once to see if he was okay and to your pleasure he seemed like he was in perfect health. Your smile cracked a little and as soon as you caught yourself smiling you wiped it away and became emotionless again.

“I think we need to talk” Taemin said being the first person to speak up first

You didn’t say anything back but nodded your head. You moved your arm that blocked his entry and stepped aside. Taemin wasted no time coming in and shutting the door and he promptly took a seat at your couch and looked at you expecting you to follow suit.

“I need to know if you are still in this” he said in a hushed tone

If you had known any better, he sounded his actual age. He sounded broken down and worn out, as if he had been up all night and was struggling to pull himself together. You knew it was physically impossible for him to be tired, but something in you was triggered and believed that he was a lot more worn than he actually could perceive to be.

“I’m….” you started and then pulled your eyes away from his to look down at the ground “I think I’m starting to fall for you. But I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t terrified”

Taemin nodded his head and relaxed a little into the couch as if he were physically prepared for the answer that he would have dreaded to hear. But now that he was still sure that you were a part of his life he could physically and mentally give himself a break

“I don’t want you to be worried about Minho, he’s fine. I know you two have something special.” He said as a whisper as if he couldn’t tolerate to say the word any louder

“I’m sure he’s fine.” You nodded your head in agreement “but I was mostly worried about you!”

Taemin turned his head to look at you and he gave you a angry confused look “I don’t want to put you in a tight spot, but I need to know…. Is it him or me?”

You cocked your head at him and chuckled. In response Taemin only seemed to get more anxious and angry at the thought of it not being him.

“I’ve never really entertained the idea of being with Minho long term” you said confidently and loudly “but you…” you smiled at Taemin hoping that he would understand and truly feel your honesty “all I could think about while I was gone was you. The past, our present and our future together. As much as I was terrified to go back to the house my body and my mind still ached to be there and be beside you.”

“So why didn’t you come back?” he asked scared and hopeful

“because” you answered half heartedly, unwilling to actually say what your heart was begging for you to say.

“come on! Because why?!” he asked seriously

“because…” you started and you shut your eyes to give you the strength to say what was next “I’m not falling for you, because I’ve already completely fallen in deep….Taemin…. I’m in love with you. I love you”

NEXT PART

#kpop #kpop seires #kpop au #kpop vampire #kpop vampire au #vampire au #shinee #shinee au #shinee vampire au #shinee minho #minho vampire au #choi minho #shinee taemin #lee taemin #taemin #taemin series #taemin smut #taemin vampire #taemin vampire au

235 notes · View notes

shady-art-blog · 6 years ago

Text

Sneak Peek: Heathens (BBRae Ficlet)

Late one night, Raven is seen wandering the halls of the tower with laundry basket in tow, when she stumbled across BeastBoy who appeared to be returning from the ops room clad in a simple tshirt and bright pink boxers with little pigs all over them. He acknowledged her presence with a wave, “Why are you up so late?”

“I was going to do laundry earlier today, but apparently that idea was scrapped because of a certain someone,” giving emphasis on that last part. The changeling gave a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Y yeah, Robin wouldn’t let me go another day without cleaning my room. And that included doing all my laundry. Sorry about that.” Raven dismissively waved off the apology.

“Don’t worry about it. I couldn’t sleep, so now’s a good time as any,” she gestured to the laundry basket under her arm; propped against her hip. Raven proceeded her way down the corridor, leaving BeastBoy in her wake. After fumbling through a few ideas, he settled on an idea and instantly sprinted towards the empath.

“Hey wait,” the empath stops, looking over her shoulder to the approaching changeling with a questioning look, “would it be alright if I kept you company?”

“I thought you were going to sleep?”

“I’m not that tired. If I go to bed, I’ll probably end up scrolling through Tumblr looking at memes til my brain goes numb.”

“As if it isn’t already,” Raven says jokingly.

“Hey!” BeastBoy retorts. He heard Raven giggle.

“I’m joking, come on.” She gestured for him to follow with her free hand before proceeding, with the changeling hot on her heels.

They entered the small laundry room lined with two sets of washers and dryers on one side and the two folding tables on the other. BeastBoy took a seat on one of them while Raven busied herself with her laundry. After throwing in the last of her load, she closed the lid of the washer with a thud before turning her attention to her company.

“What’s got you up so late?,” she asked with the tilt of her head and her long violet locks falling to the side. BeastBoy was caught off guard as was entranced by his fingernails. After flicking off a piece of dry skin from his cuticle, he responded. “I couldn’t sleep, same as you.” It was evident they were both very exhausted due to the black circles around their eyes and a very raspy tone in their voices, for Raven is was more apparent. Both simultaneously let out a yawn before falling into a small silence.

“Nice underwear,” Raven muttered as she pointed to BeastBoy’s choice of undergarments. He gave off a sheepish grin all while rubbing the back of his head. “Star got them for me during the last Blorthog she celebrated.

Raven instantly remembered that day very well. Starfire mentioned tat this year’s Blorthog centered around the act of giving, like an early Christmas of some sort. And since it was a holiday exclusive to Tamaranians, Star had bought and crafted gifts for everyone on the team. Cyborg was gifted with a new tool set since his other ones seemed rusty. BeastBoy had received his boxers, Raven herself was given a lovely choker with a single shard of Amethyst dangling from it. And Robin, who had recently became Starfire’s beau received what appeared to be a very expensive watch.

“They suit you,” Raven stated to which the changeling gave a toothy grin.

‘I like your PJs too,” he gestured to the empath’s apparel, “Though I would never take you for a fluffy pink hearts kind of girl.” Raven was quick to grab a towel that just so happened to be nearby to cover herself up in embarrassment, which erupted BeastBoy in a fit of giggles.

“Don’t hide yourself Rae, they look nice on you.” She returned the compliment with a light blush to her cheeks and a meek smile upon her face.

“I forgot I slipped these on for the night. And I never intended for anyone other than me to see them.” The changeling replied, “Well I guess I’m the first.”

Raven removed the towel from her frame and looked towards her teammate with a smile, rubbing her shoulders sheepishly.

“Thanks,” she muttered.

Ever since Trigon’s defeat and his hold on her released, Raven’s demeanor changed slightly. Seeing her flustered over such little things was something anyone had rarely seen, even BeastBoy, and he found it quite adorable.

“They’re really comfortable.”

“I bet they are.”

The washing machine began to jostle a bit indicating that the cycle was changing. A pregnant pause filled the room.

Raven’s eyes began to wander, unsure of what to focus on or what to say. BeastBoy began to whistle a small tune all while having crossed his legs and arms, looking off into the distance as if fishing for a thought. As her eyes continued to wander they glanced over BB’s attire once again and took notice to his T-shirt, a 21 Pilots t-shirt, she broke the silence.

“Your shirt,” she directed towards BeastBoy, who broke from his train of thought and took hold of the article of clothing in his hands to examine. “This thing, I’ve had it for a while.”

“I didn’t know you listened yo 21 Pilots?”

“Yeah, they’re a pretty chill group. Actually, I went to a concert of theirs recently, was pretty fun. Why, do you listen to them too?,” the changeling questioned.

Raven tilted her head, letting long locks fall to the side once again, searching for an answer. “You could say I’m a fan. A bit different from my usual playlist of songs. But, the lyrics and mellow beats drag me into wanting to listen to more.”

“You gotta fave song?” BeastBoy asked.

“Heathens.”

“Interesting choice how come?”

“I guess it reminds me of our little ragtag heroes we call family.”

BeastBoy smiled at that. He too would think of him and his comrads everytime he would come across Heathens anywhere, be it perusing the shopping mall on weekends, cruising through the streets with the others, or simply listening to it on his playlist. Without thinking, BeastBoy blurted out a question.

“H hey, if you’re interested, they’re holding another concert within Steel City, maybe we could go together?” Another pregnant pause. Raven gave a blank stare towards he companion, her inside feelings instantly taken aback by the sudden remark. When no reply was heard, BeastBoy became nervous.

“Uhh, I take that back, you’re probably not interested. You probably don’t even wanna go considering it’s a public event and you’re not used to…”

“Yes.”

BeastBoy looked baffled, unsure if he had heard his teammate correctly, “Huh?”

“I said yes BeastBoy,” Raven repeated, the same blank stare upon her face.

#bbrae #Teen Titans #beast boy #raven #twenty øne piløts #twenty one pilots #heathens #shadywinters #shady's fics

27 notes · View notes

travelingtheusa · 4 years ago

Text

ARKANSAS

2021 Apr 24 (Sat) – Did some errands today. Got fuel, picked up groceries, and bought pet food.

Vanleigh had a catered breakfast this morning. Following that, they had a Q&A with Leigh Tiffin. We left early because we had an appointment with techs to make some repairs on our RV. Our appointment time of 9:30 a.m. came and went without anyone showing up. At 10:30, Paul went over to find out what was happening only to be informed that they were waiting until after the Q&A. That infuriated me! I wanted to be there for the Q&A but had to leave for the appointment that never happened. The techs showed up at 12:30 and worked on our Magic Fan for about an hour. They even wound up reprogramming the Spyder Control Panel. But, they were not able to make the repair. They are going to send us a new fan.

After our catered dinner tonight, they played Survey Says, a take-off on Family Feud. It was cute but a little irritating. We left after the first group challenge.

2021 Apr 23 (Fri) – Paul brought the truck to the garage at 7 AM this morning. He had to take a taxi back to the campground. The mechanic called later and said the truck started several times with no problem. He sees no sign of starter problems. Paul instructed him to change the starter any way. With his years of working with heavy equipment, he’s got an ear for trouble with engines.

The weather is forecast to be crappy for most of the rally. Thunderstorms are due in today and tomorrow. Sunday is supposed to clear up but that’s when the rally ends.

The seminars started at 8 AM. There was one scheduled for each of the first 3 hours, then lunch, then 3 seminars in the afternoon, then dinner and more singing.

2021 Apr 22 (Thu) – The Vanleigh Owner’s Rally started today. We went over at 1 PM to sign in and get our goodie bag. Some goodie bag. The rally schedule, two pieces of advertising from vendors at the rally, a bag, a lanyard and ID card. Activities will be taking place in an large open-air pavilion.

At 5 PM, we went over for dinner. A caterer was set up in a tent where came in and they served us as we moved along the line. There was BBQ pulled pork and pulled chicken, cole slaw, beans, corn salad, potato salad, and a scrumptious brownie. After dinner, there was entertainment by Nick Dover and an employee of Vanleigh who played guitar and sang. It was fun but the temperature really dropped. It was cold.

While getting propane, Paul had trouble restarting the truck. He thinks it’s the starter going bad. We called the local Ford dealership but as usual, the earliest appointment is not for at least a week. So Paul called a local garage and arranged to bring the truck in tomorrow.

2021 Apr 21 (Wed) – It was 36 degrees this morning. Brrrrr! We had a minor disaster overnight. Paul heard the water leak alarm in the basement go off around 2:30 a.m. this morning. He got up and went outside to see what was going on. There was water dripping into the basement. It was coming from the bathroom area. He came back in to the RV to check it out. The floor had about a half-inch of water on it and the throw rugs were soaked. He lifted the toilet seat and saw that the toilet bowl was overflowing. It turned out that a piece of toilet paper had not fully flushed but got stuck in the valve closure. Because it wasn’t fully closed, the water kept running and filled the tank. After it filled with the water, it overflowed. Fortunately, we dumped the tanks this morning so they were not full of waste. It could have been so much worse. Paul emptied the tank and I scrubbed down the bathroom. We took the wet rugs from the bathroom and in the basement to the laundry room and washed and dried them.

We went to the Red Oak Fillin Station for lunch. It was a cute café with a woodland decoration (stuffed animals and grasses around the room) and full. There was only one table left when we walked in. The food was very good and the waitresses very attentive.

After lunch, we went to Garvin Woodland Gardens. It is a botanical gardens that covers about 100 acres of flowering shrubs, trees and plants. The Children’s Garden was delightful. There were lots of large rocks and water treatments among the trees that made it nice to walk among. There was an amazing chapel in the woods. The Anthony Chapel has clear glass walls that make it look like you are sitting outside among the trees. It was like the chapel we toured in Bella Vista. The same architect probably designed both of them. I took a fall walking along the “natural” path and banged up my knee.

After dinner, Linda (another Vilano owner) came by and invited us to join a group over by her trailer. We met Linda and several other folks who were around the campfire tonight at the Tampa RV Show in January last year. There were also some new Vilano owners at the campfire as well as an SOB couple (Some Other Brand).

2021 Apr 20 (Tue) – We packed up and left Little Rock AFB FamCamp at 9:30 a.m. It was an easy hour and a half drive to Catherine’s Landing in Hot Springs. The campground is a resort. All the sites are paved with barbecues, fire pits, and picnic tables. The pool is open, heated and very inviting. They have a disc golf course and lake activities with Kayak and canoe rentals. We are here for five nights for a Vanleigh Owner’s Rally. The rally doesn’t officially start until Thursday but we’ve been watching Vanleigh’s coming in all day. There will be about 100 rigs here, I think.

2021 Arp 19 (Mon) – It was cool when we got up this morning – in the low 40s. I can’t believe it’s still this cold. It’s just 2 weeks to Memorial Day and we’re putting the electric blanket on at night. And there’s a freeze warning in effect for tomorrow. What. Is. Going. On???

We did the laundry this morning. They have 2 washers and 2 dryers at $1 apiece. Unfortunately, one washer’s spin cycle did not work. So we had to rewash one load. The dryers worked fine.

After the laundry was put away, we went into town. We bought propane at Camping World. The cost was double the normal price. Why in the world would propane prices have gone up??

We ate at the Whole Hog Café. It was a barbecue place and the food was pretty good. On the way back to the campground, we stopped at a plane display on base. There were several aircraft on static display in a park. We walked around and read the plaques describing each aircraft, its origin, cost, and history. It was interesting.

2021 Apr 18 (Sun) – We watched church service live stream on FaceBook this morning. Then we ran errands – got fuel, picked up groceries at Kroger, bought some wine at the BX, and parts at Lowe’s. When Paul was repairing the seat on the toilet bowl, the washer fell into the hole. He had to pick up another nut and washer, which also fell into the bowl. After some cussin’ and fussin’, he wound up using the old hardware.

We searched for places to have lunch. We have to keep in mind that down in the bible belt, most stores and restaurants are closed and the one or two that are open are usually packed. After going through a number of options (all closed), we found an Italian restaurant with a 20 minute wait. The food was very good and we bought leftovers home.

For dinner, we enjoyed shish kabobs. However, they were overcooked. We’ll have to experiment for the right amount of time to barbecue them. Having never cooked them before, it’s a learning experience for us.

2021 Apr 17 (Sat) – We stayed in the campground all day. It was cold and overcast. Paul worked mostly on trying to get our route laid out from the rally next week to Washington, D.C. The internet is slow and it is frustrating. I made reservations for a flight back to New York on May 16. My sister, Susan, used her points to pay for my ticket. That was very nice.

2021 Apr 16 (Fri) – We stayed in most of the day. It was a cold, dreary, drizzly day. The fireplace was on all day. I don’t think it went over 60 degrees today. At 5 p.m. I took Paul to Barnhill’s Steak and Buffet. The place had a very extensive buffet selection. We were surprised since all this kind of thing was stopped with the pandemic. But this place had a robust buffet with all kinds of delicious foods.

2021 Apr 15 (Thu) – We went to Papito’s Mexican Grill for lunch. The place was very colorful with beautiful tile work all over the restaurant. The employees were Spanish and the food was good. It all felt very authentic.

After lunch, we drove to Camping World. Paul is still looking for parts to permanently install the cell phone booster antenna. They did not have what he wanted. He couldn’t find the parts online either. Looks like they just don’t make what he wants. He’ll have to jury-rig something.

Since we were out and about and the weather was pleasant, I suggested we take a ride over to the State Capitol. We had not seen it the last time we came through this area. We don’t know why. It might have been a weekend and the building was closed. It was open and we went in. There were four floors open to the public. The House of Representatives was in session and we sat in the gallery for a little while, watching the proceedings. One rep would get up, describe the bill he wanted to present, questions would be asked, then a vote was taken with the reps voting AYE, NAY, or VISITING (meaning they are present but not voting). Out of three proposals made, two passed and one did not. It was interesting. The building was nice, but not spectacular. The rotunda was four floors high with a large chandelier hanging from the ceiling. It can be lowered all the way to the first floor. That’s a looooonng cord! After exploring the building, we walked around the outside looking at the statues on the grounds. One exhibit represented the Little Rock 9 with statues of nine students. This is in honor of the black students who were bussed to the Little Rock High School at the height of the civil rights era.

2021 Apr 14 (Wed) – It rained most of the morning until about 11 a.m. At least it wasn’t thunderstorms. I called the office this afternoon and complained loud and long about the lack of electric. A staff person in the office overheard my call and came over to see what he could do. He couldn’t solve the problem so he returned to the office and related the issue. His boss suggested we plug into the 30-amp outlet rather than the 50-amp outlet. The staffer returned with the suggestion. We did it and voila! We have a 30-amp hookup. Not as good as a 50-amp hookup but better than limited electric.

We went out to the Fried Pie Shop for lunch. Paul read about it online. It’s like a pot pie you hold in your hand. I got a chicken vegetable pie and Paul ordered a beef vegetable pie. We got a blueberry pie for dessert. The wait was long. *sigh* When our order finally arrived, it was very hot; fresh out of the fryer. I burned my mouth and my tongue was numb for the rest of the day. The pies were OK; kind of bland. Oh, well. We tried something new.

After lunch, we went to Lowe’s so Paul could pick up a connector for the antenna to the cell booster. They didn’t have what we wanted. We then drove to True Value. They didn’t have the part either. Then we went to Camping World and they also did not have what we wanted. So Paul changed what he planned to do. When the weather clears up, he’ll install a permanent connection.

On the way back to the campground, we stopped at the base exchange looking for some wine and liquor. It turned out to have a limited selection and we couldn’t get everything we wanted.

2021 Apr 13 (Tue) – We packed up and left Memphis, TN at 9:30 a.m. After a stop at the dump station and a hearty good-bye to the awful smell hanging over the campground, we drove 3 hours to Little Rock AFB FamCamp. It is a small but pleasant campground. Most sites are paved except the few in the tree line, of which we have one. Our site is one grass. After set up, I noticed we didn’t have any electric. Paul checked the stanchion and found that one of the legs is not working.

We drove over to Outdoor Recreation to pay and point out the lack of electric at our campsite. The ditsy girl behind the counter said a work order had been put in and the problem would hopefully be fixed soon. No indication when that would happen. Paul rigged up an extension so we could have some electric in the trailer. The fridge and TV are working and I have a plug for the computer. We grilled steak on the barbecue since the toaster oven is not working (the toaster oven is the most used appliance in our rig). At least the stove is propane and I was able to make side dishes to the steak.

We are at a new phase in our relationship. Paul has begun to speak in low tones. I am often asking him to repeat what he said. He is also losing his hearing. Many of our conversations are filled with “I thought you said …” or “I heard you say …” I guess it’s kind of funny but it sure can be frustrating.

0 notes

orderofthewordlotus · 7 years ago

Text

The laundry machine was full, and the man reached up to grab the detergent. The small room, constantly buzzing with the electric buzz of flourescents and the rumble of neighboring machines running, quickly filled with the smell of cleansing flowers and herbs.

The man poured the translucent blue into the column, and closed the lid on his machine. One jab of an errant finger activated the internal motors, and it began filling the central tub. Another machined stopped, and the man sat down in an errant chair, and spaced out, breathing in the scent of lavender.

As the man dozed absently, chair propped up on two legs, the sound of the door opening jarred him out of his reverie. The chair slammed back on all four legs.

The laundry machine was full, and the man was pouring himself a vial of detergent. Further into the room, another man was pulling his wet clothes from the washing machine, and was pacing across the room to dump them in the dryer. It took him another two drips, despite the laundry machine only large enough for maybe half of a load.

Detergent poured, machine started, the stranger spoke. “My grandpappy gave me two good pieces of advice in life. Don’t antagonize nothin’ that hunts when you edible. An’ the only mistake ain’t solvable by burnin’ it down is settin’ too much stuff on fire.”

The smell of lavender seemed to fill the room, and the stranger continued speaking. “Hell, boy, I found that first piece’a advice too useful ta not follow. That sec’und’s a real squirmy one, though. Ain’t one of us get through this life ‘thout a han’ful’a mistakes. Pappy weren’t wrong, fire sure can fix’a lotta ‘em.”

The machines seemed to grow louder, and the stranger leaned into the man’s face. “Fact, I feel like I maybe seen you before. You ain’t never report no crimes, have’ya? Arson, ‘haps?”

The flick of the lighter called the man’s focus down.

The laundry machine was full, and the man poured the detergent straight from the oversized bottle all over the clothes, not caring to measure beforehand. The laundry room around him was wall-to-wall windows. The low, humming machines churned into the empty room, the single florescent light flickered on and off with sporadic rhythms, buzzing and fading in uneven percussion. The world outside the laundromat, a normally bustling city to the man’s memory, was bathed in a low mist that obscured anything more than a few long strides beyond the doors and windows.

He man started the machine, and stepped over to the windows, pressing his hand against the glass as he leaned up to look closely. The cafe across the street glowed a pale orange, muted by the sepia-toned windows that promised a low, moody light for the patrons inside. It was probably quieter there, than the eclectic rhythms and formless machinations of the cheap laundromat he found himself in.

All he had to do was open the door and walk across. There’s no reason not to, in fact. Time seemed to drift away from him, and he stared at the warm colors of the coffee shop, piercing through the cool, white haze of the misty morning. He foot scuffed the metal, and he quickly realized he’d moved without intending to. The sudden cool metal of the door handle was under his palm as he started to push outside. The metal grating under the door rattled when he kicked it, and he flinched with sudden surprise.

The laundry machine was full, and his robes took up the better part of both machines. “Do I have enough quarters?” He asked his costar, a woman wearing nothing but a dotted pink bra and yoga pants.

“For both machines?” She replied, looking up from her magazine. “Probably not.”

He fished in his pockets, pulling two quarters and a handful of discarded wrappers and pennies. “I guess you’re right.”

Her voice, high and melodious, sang out from behind his field of vision as he spun around toward the machines, looking for accidentally dropped coins on the ground. “Am I ever not?~”

He found a dime, two nickels, and another quarter, which was enough to start at least one machine. The rumbling of the three machines running in tandem made conversing difficult. “Can I borrow a quarter?”

She smiled a wicked smile at him, “And what will I get in return?”

“The ability to settle the bet with Trevor. I’m going to try washing the crown.”

The wicked smile added a hint of pink and grew wider. “Ooooh, Wardrobe won’t be happy. You’re a wicked boy.”

She reached for her top to grab the coin she had concealed within it, and his gaze lowered toward

The laundry machine was full of birds, and he turned to the woman hanging up rows of corn cobs from the laundry line just outside the back door. “Um... Ma’am, you’re not supposed to wash... uh... birds here.”

She turned, clad in a glorious robe of feathers, and leveled a flat gaze in his direction. Her voice sounded soft, hinting at little melodies hiding in every syllable. “I am not a ma’am. One would imagine, but those are not living birds, dear boy. That is my crown.”

He paused, “If not ma’am, then..?”

The reply was at once instant, and and languidly regal. “King.”

“Then... my liege, please permit me a question, why is your crown made of dead birds?”

“Your mortal artisasns, they weave together materials to make the cloths, do they not? Cloaks and tunics and such?”

“Um. Yeah.”

The King’s smile quickly reminded me of a raven’s caw. “Corpses are materials.” The intensity of the King’s gaze seemed to crush him, and he quickly averted his gaze down to

The laundry machine was rusted over, sat disused on the crest of a deep hill. The man’s hiking gear, gleaming and pristine compared to the grown over and corroded slice of modern appliance. The flowers in the field around him and the machine danced with the light breeze, caressing his boots and pushing at the vine-ridden overgrowth around the discarded and woefully out of place appliance.

He leaned against the machine for a moment, and watched the horizon. The flowers joined the symphony of leaves from trees all around the bluffs, and he watched for a moment, a single gloved hand resting on the browned lip of the machine. Tiny pebbles around his feet shuffled downslope, joining the chorus. For a brief moment, he thought he felt his foot slipping, and jerked his head down toward

The alarm clock blared noisily in his bedroom apartment, and he lurched uneasily in bed before crawling out of his covers. His bedroom, dark in the early-morning AMs, was cold, and he sneezed.

“Ugh, I hate NyQuil dreams...”

#short fiction #writing

4 notes · View notes

avengerofyourheart · 7 years ago

Text

Leave This Town Pt 8 (Mechanic!Bucky AU)

Characters: reader, Bucky, Wanda and Pietro (mentioned)

Summary: After leaving the small town life behind, you’ve worked hard to make your dreams come true. When something unexpected brings you home, you’re brought back to the place where everything changed. Timing is everything and now there just might be a second chance with the man you left behind.

Song Inspiration: Angela by The Lumineers

Warnings: Fluff!!!!

Word Count: 3.4k

Tags are at bottom (TAG LIST IS CLOSED I’M SORRY)

**This fic is for @bionic-buckyb ‘s 5K AU Writing Challenge**

Y/N: Oof.

<<<Part 7 Part 8 Part 9>>>

Leave This Town Masterlist

Full Masterlist

____________________________________________

Previously:

You waited a few minutes until the driver’s side door opened with a squeak and Bucky slid inside. Shaking his head, water droplets sprayed in your direction making you squeal in laughter while shielding your already damp self.

Bucky threw you a wide grin, feeling a familiar warmth inside you grow despite the chill seeping in from your wet clothes. He held out a hand and you gave him the keys with the engine roaring to life seconds later.

“Ready?”

“Ready,” you replied, wondering what this unexpected night would bring.

_____________

Conversation was impossible on the ten minute drive to Bucky’s place. The loud thundering of rain pelting the truck’s roof along with Bucky’s need to concentrate on the road with very little visibility, you resigned yourself to silence. You didn’t mind though. It gave you a chance to unabashedly stare at the man you hadn’t seen in two years, and yet you instantly still felt that comfort and ease in his presence.

Bucky was right, he hadn’t changed much. His hair was a bit longer with a few more laugh lines around his eyes, but you found that they made him even more attractive. One of your first observations, though, was the lack of a ring on his finger. That still wasn’t a definitive answer to a question you had yet to voice, though.

Bucky turned off the main road and drove half a mile before he pulled in front of a small one-story house. Although he probably would have opened your door for you under normal circumstances, instead you jumped out the second the truck was in park and ran for the porch with your purse tucked under your blazer. Bucky was right behind you, quickly unlocking the door and ushering you inside.

He flicked on a light and you glanced around. The house was cozy and definitely a bachelor pad. To your left was the kitchen and dining area with mismatched chairs, to the right was the living room with a tv and a sagging couch. There was a hallway directly ahead, presumably leading to the rest of the house.

“It’s not much, but it’s home,” Bucky uttered humbly.

“It’s great,” you replied with a grin. “Very…you.”

Bucky smiled, scratching the back of his neck nervously. He toed out of his heavy work boots and you did the same, slipping off your soaking wet wedge sandals and leaving them by the door. Bucky walked further into the house, flipping on lights and attempting to tidy up a bit. He clearly wasn’t expecting company.

Picking up a shirt from the couch and kicking a stray pair of shoes into the bedroom, he then turned your way. “Make yourself comfortable. I can get towels or blankets, whatever you need to—“

As he was tidying up, you had placed your purse on the table and removed your sopping wet blazer to hang on a chair. When Bucky abruptly stopped speaking and his eyes flew to the ceiling, you looked down and noticed that your white shirt wasn’t as dry as you thought. The fabric clung to you and was now see-through, showing more of your undergarments than you would like. Quickly you retrieved your blazer and hugged it against your chest.

“Sorry! Um…I should have grabbed my suitcase from the car or something, I didn’t mean to…” you trailed off in regret.

Blushing, Bucky’s gaze remained above your head just in case, “It’s, uh…no problem. Um…do you want some dry clothes to borrow? I can throw yours in the dryer if you’d like.”

“That would be great, actually,” you replied, face still hot in embarrassment.

“Okay,” he answered, whirling around to the bedroom. He returned with a pair of sweat pants and a long-sleeved shirt, handing them to you.

Accepting the dry clothes, you still kept one hand on the blazer against your chest. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You can change in the bathroom down the hall on the left.”

“Actually,” you wanted to ask, but felt a bit odd about it, “would you mind if I used your shower? I’ve been traveling all day and now with the rain and mud…”

“Of course!” he spoke quickly. “Yeah, anything you need. Are you hungry? I can whip something up,” he offered, clasping his hands in front of him as if he didn’t know where to put them.

“Oh, you don’t have to, I ate at the airport. I’m not sure what time that was though…” You thought back over the day filled with a blur of travel, now feeling the emptiness of your stomach.

“It’s no trouble, I promise. I need to eat anyway and I tend to make a lot for leftovers. I’ll get that started while you shower,” he said with a smile, meeting your eye.

“That sounds great,” you replied with a smile of your own, then retreating to the bathroom.

Finally feeling warm and clean after a hot shower, you slipped on the sweats and tied them around your waist, then pulling the shirt over your head. You couldn’t stop yourself from pulling the fabric up to your nose and inhaling. The shirt smelled of laundry detergent but also something distinctly Bucky. You had noticed it in the cab of his truck but upon stepping foot in the house, you were overwhelmed by it. The scent was warm and woody with a hint of spice and engine grease. Memories flooded back to that hotel room all those years ago.

You brought yourself back to the present and tamed your damp hair the best you could before stepping out into the hallway toward the kitchen. Bucky had his back to you as he stood at the stove, stirring something. You watched for a moment as he moved about the kitchen, checking on something in the oven before he returned to stirring. Turning toward the fridge, he finally noticed you and smiled with a soft look in his eye to see you wearing his clothes again.

“Feeling better?” he asked, opening a cupboard to retrieve a colander.

“Much. Thank you. Is there anything I can do?” you offered, rolling up the shirt’s overly long sleeves.

“I think I’ve got it covered. Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes,” he stated, slipping on oven mitts and pulling a pot from the stove. He turned his face to the side as he poured it into the colander, avoiding the steam.

“Okay. I should probably call my mom and let her know what’s happening,” you said with a sigh.

“Take your time,” he grinned, tossing the pasta as it drained over the sink.

Wandering back into the living room, you retrieved your phone and dialed.

She picked up on the second ring. “Hi, sweetie, are you close by? It looks like there’s a storm on the way.”

“Hi, mom. Actually, the storm must be coming from this direction because it already hit. Hard. I couldn’t even see 10 feet in front of me, so I pulled into a small town to wait it out,” you told her, fibbing slightly about the timing of the storm.

“Oh, dear! Well, that’s rotten. Were you able to get someplace safe I hope?” you mother asked, concern in her voice.

“Yeah, I’m safe. But the rain still hasn’t let up yet and it’ll be dark soon. In fact, I might not make it until morning,” you said quietly with your gaze on the man in the kitchen, unsure how he might react to that news. He probably wouldn’t turn you away, but you didn’t want to assume.

“That’s alright, peanut. You just stay safe and wait it out. I’ve missed you and I want you here as soon as possible, but I also want you here in one piece,” she said sternly, making you smile.

“I love you, mom. I missed you, too. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sleep tight, sweetie. I love you.”

After hanging up, you checked your email and answered a few texts before he gained your attention.

“Y/N, dinner’s ready,” he called for you, setting the last dish on the table before he stepped back and smiled in accomplishment.

Walking closer, you took in the meal before you. It looked like spaghetti marinara with fresh garlic bread and a green salad. Your stomach grumbled as the delicious smells hit your nose.

“Wow, this looks amazing,” you said as Bucky indicated for you to sit, and you obliged.

Bucky settled into a seat across from you. “Well, it’s not ‘the best Italian in town’…” he teased, referring to your first date. You met his eye and shared that memory for a moment.

“Homemade is always better,” you declared with a smile. “I don’t think I’ve had a home-cooked meal since I canceled my Blue Apron membership.”

“Your what membership?” Bucky asked, confused as he served you some pasta.

“Oh, um…it’s kind of like a delivery service. You order the meals and they send you the right amount of ingredients with instructions so you can cook it yourself.”

“Really? Can’t you just look at a recipe and buy the groceries yourself instead of paying someone?” he cocked an eyebrow, perplexed.

You laughed, “Yeah, well, when you put it that way…It just came to a point where I wasn’t home enough to do the cooking part. Or I was holed up in a room writing and only took breaks to order takeout.”

“Wow,” he replied, handing you the bowl of sauce to serve yourself. “Sounds…intense.”

You shrugged. “It can be. But before we talk more about me, let’s talk about your comment regarding Wanda,” you raised your eyebrows, gesturing with your empty fork before diving into the heavenly-smelling pasta.

He sat back, rubbing his neck sheepishly. “Um…okay. Well, after you left Wanda was pretty cold to me for a while. Not rude, but…I don’t know. Not pleasant. Then after a few weeks, she flipped a 180 and would approach me in the grocery store to chat or dropped by the bar when she knew me and the guys would be there. It was strange. She even started bringing her car in to the shop, claiming it was making a noise. I had worked on that car recently so I knew it was fine, but I checked anyway and didn’t charge her because there wasn’t anything wrong. I don’t normally charge just for a diagnostic.”

Nodding, you twirled your pasta on the fork and took a bite, then letting out a groan of pleasure. “Ohmahgah so good,” you said with your mouth full, which was slightly impolite but Bucky just laughed.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Anyway, I knew she was making up excuses when she brought her car in for a sixth check-up and still found nothing wrong. I was afraid she was going to actually damage something just so I would fix it, so I asked her what this was all really about. She finally admitted that she needed a date after getting roped into chaperoning at the high school prom. Her brother, Pietro, is the track coach there so she’s still involved with events sometimes. I just told her if she had asked straight-out, I would have agreed because I’m always willing to help out a friend. She didn’t have to go through all this nonsense. She frowned a little at my response, but in the end was grateful that I said yes.”

“So you did it? You really chaperoned the high school prom?” you asked with humor in your voice, reaching for a slice of garlic bread.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “It wasn’t that bad, just watch the punch bowl and check the bathrooms and janitor’s closet every 15 minutes for wayward couples.” You laughed at that as he blushed slightly. “But Wanda did ask me to dance a few times when we weren’t on chaperone duty and by the end of the night, I could tell it all meant more than it was supposed to. I did emphasize the word friend when she asked, but…”

“Oh no…”

“Oh yes. It was high school all over again. I dropped her at home and said I’d see her around but she got huffy when I was clear that we wouldn’t go out again. She went off about how she thought I was ready to date again and implied that she was doing me a favor by ‘picking up the pieces’ after you left and I just…I might have snapped a little. I told her that I would never have with her that I had with you and that she needed to stop fixating on me. It wasn’t going to happen. I guess she got the message cause she got out of the truck and slammed the door, heading for home. After that, I was pretty much dead to her. Same with her brother. There are still parts of town that I can’t visit without getting a verbal lashing or icy stare thanks to whatever she told people afterward. I didn’t correct them. They can believe what they want,” he finished with a shrug.

You had set down your fork sometime during his story and listened quietly, finally responding when he finished. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I just can’t believe she still couldn’t let it go after all these years. At least it’s over,” he said in relief, taking a bite of his own pasta.

“So,” you began hesitantly, “have you dated since then?” You tried to remain casual but likely failed. Seeing most of the house, you thought you had your answer, especially after seeing only one toothbrush and no obvious signs of a female presence. Still, you had to come out and ask.

“I have,” he replied. “I mean, I did. There was an elementary school substitute teacher who was here for a school year. We met at the bar and hit it off. It wasn’t anything serious, though. She left at the end of the year and that was that,” he said with a tone of finality. “What about you? Are you seeing anyone?”

You expected this. “I was seeing someone…until recently. He’s in the industry and we met during a project I was on. He’s a really good man, but…I don’t know.” You left things vague as Bucky had, but essentially, things were cleared up for you. It may not mean anything in the end, but at least you had your answers. Most of them.

A comfortable silence hung in the air as you both ate for a few moments before Bucky opened up conversation again.

“So tell me about L.A. You mentioned ‘the industry’? As in films? What have you been up to?” he asked with genuine curiosity.

Huffing out a loud sigh, you thought back over the past two years and how to best describe the ups and downs of chasing your dreams. “Well. Once I got to L.A., I was completely overwhelmed. It’s hard to describe how large the area is that most people would consider ‘Los Angeles’. I got lost SO many times and looked at cheap apartments in scary areas, even sleeping in my car one night, but I didn’t even sleep because I was terrified. I finally found a place, though, after a week of searching. A four-bedroom apartment with 5 other people in their 20s. Most are actors or dancers with day jobs.”

Bucky looked relieved after hearing your harrowing tale that you had found a safe space. He took another bite and let you continue.

“I met with that possible agent I mentioned before, Tony Stark? He’s a no-nonsense guy but he does have a heart, so he still gave me a chance. The script I had sent him was some superhero story based on a lesser-known comic book character who I loved growing up. Stark passed on that one but liked my style and story pacing so he gave me another chance to prove myself, which is rare. I basically pitched him a few stories I had in the works. He picked one and told me to run with it and I did. I finished it after a grueling few weeks of madness and he shopped it around. Eventually, someone optioned it and everything happened so fast after that, it seems.”

“That’s amazing,” he declared, grinning at you as he reached for his water glass. “What’s the story?”

You smiled wistfully, thinking back on those months you spent completely wrapped up in this project. “It’s an action-packed thriller where an Interpol agent is hunting a rogue assassin around the world, trying to anticipate his next target and get ahead to capture him. But then there’s a twist in the middle where the agent starts to question the assassin’s motives along with his own. It was…it was pretty intense to write and I got to be on set at times for re-writes, so the entire project was amazing. Huge learning experience,” you said with a slow shake of your head.

“Wow,” Bucky breathed out in awe. “That sounds awesome. So, it’s an actual movie? It’s in theaters and everything?”

“Yep. An actual movie,” you nodded, still in disbelief yourself. “Although, it’s not in theaters anymore. I think it’s out on DVD and such.”

“I’d love to see it.”

“You should. I think you’d enjoy it. Not that I’m at all biased, by the way,” you laughed.

He chuckled along with you. “I wonder if the video store has it…maybe I could go out and check if the rain has died down.”

“Wait, are you serious?” you gaped at him. “You want to watch it tonight? And secondly, you still have a video store? It’s probably on Netflix anyway.”

He rolled his eyes with a smile. “Yes, we have a video store. We live a little behind the times and that’s not a bad thing. Also, I don’t have that Flexit thing.”

“It’s Netflix, Buck, and that’s okay, we could use my log-in,” you shrugged.

Bucky was silent then, pursing his lips before he smiled guiltily. Then it occurred to you: taking another look around house, you didn’t see one piece of the latest technology. Bucky’s tv was boxy and square with a DVD/VCR combo next to it. There was no computer in sight and you’d never even seen him with a cell phone.

You turned back toward him, eyes wide in shock. “You don’t even have internet, do you?”

He just took a bite of pasta and chewed with a close-lipped smile until he swallowed. “I’ve just never seen a need for it.”

Sitting back in your chair, you let that sink in. How anyone could live without internet in this day and age was beyond you.

“Oh, wait!” he exclaimed and stood up, having finished his plate of food. “Darcy! She’s my next door neighbor and she owns practically every movie ever made. Well, ‘only the good ones’, she claims. I’ll run over there.”

Bucky had thrown on a jacket and was out the door before you could respond, so you enjoyed your last few bites of past and carried your plate to the kitchen sink. You started to clear the table, but were unsure where to put anything so you left the bowls of food in the kitchen and found a towel to wipe down the table. By then, Bucky had returned and hung up his soaking wet jacket. He waved the DVD case triumphantly for you to see.

“Got it!” he smiled, then frowned upon seeing what you were doing. “Y/N, you do not have to clean up, I’ll take care of that. Why don’t you pop in the movie and I’ll finish in the kitchen?” he bargained, handing the DVD to you.

“I don’t mind cleaning up, but if you say so,” you shrugged, walking to the living room with the movie in hand. Looking down, you glanced at the cover to see a familiar face, making you smile. You inserted the DVD and discovered what you hoped was a universal remote on the tv before settling on the couch.

Bucky walked in a few minutes later with a bowl of fresh popcorn in his hands. “Ready to go?” he asked, settling on the couch a few inches from you.

“Yeah,” you replied, then hesitating nervously. “Bucky…is this okay? I mean, it’s getting late and there’s got to be another hotel in town, I should go…”

He interrupted you by placing a warm hand on yours. “Y/N. Just stay. Please? It’s ridiculous for you to go out again in the storm when you’re more than welcome here. I’ll sleep on the couch, I’ve done it dozens of times on accident and I won’t hear another word about it.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he held up a hand with a stern expression, so you relented. “Okay. I’ll stay. Thank you, Bucky.”

His face lit up when you agreed, causing that sputtering spark inside you spread warmth from the inside out. Tearing your gaze from his, you picked up the remote and pressed play.

__________

Part 9>>>

_________________________________________________

Yowzah. A lot of catch-up but I love their comfortable conversations and that awkward moment! I had a hard time writing it because of secondhand embarrassment. haha. :D We’ve got a few more parts and some juicy stuff coming! I adore you all and appreciate any feedback you have. Love you!!

Permanent Tag List and LTT Tag Lists are CLOSED. I’M SORRY.

Permanent Tags:

@ek823 @you-didnt-see-that-cuming @yellowtheremarvelfan @mirkwood---princess @stovehairington @msshadowboxer @reniescarlett @wellfuckbuck @coffeeismylife28 @lilasiannerd @bunchofandoms @sarahpanda65 @ria132love @canumoveyourseatup-no @whatshernamemaria @crazyliraz @filthylolita @tempestinatea-cup @pixierox101 @jcb2k16 @jaderz-mega-yikes @gatorgal94 @prettylatxna @abovethesmokestacks @missmotherhen @snakesgoethe @feelmyroarrrr @buckysmetallicstump @dontstopwiththelyin @mytasterpeculiar @writingruna @chaneltheavenger @whothehellisbella @bovaria @thisisthelilith @buckyywiththegoodhair @rogersxbarnesx @hellomissmabel @bionic-buckyb @buckysberrie @marvel-lucy @marvelingatthewonder @you-and-bucky @sebseyesandbuckysthighs @myserium @kinqshley @avengersandchill @marvel-ash @sebbytrash @serzhantkris @officialcaptain-marvel @themcuhasruinedme @mizzzpink @vaisabu @winterboobaer @idontknow-canyou @mylittlefandomfanfictions @bemystucky @lenavonschweetz @hotmessofafangirl @niallandsebastianaremylife @avengermama @melanie451 @mrs--healy @black-eyed-bucky @supersoldier-wifey @gold-liess @thebabewiththepwr @indominusregina @lostinspace33 @lillian-paige @brittanymcsharry @dustycelt @tragicalchemist @palaiasaurus64 @chrisevans-imagines @ryverpenrad @timeladylaurel @with-a-hint-of-pesto-aioli @maybe-mikala @bellenuit45 @ilovebeingjoyful @soulful-ofevans @finhabastos @queen-merc @theawesomeclairfury @4theluvofall @seeyainanotherlifebrotha @jaybird6232 @johnmurphys-sass @anxuanpham @anitavalija @katbird787 @tori-medusa-belongs-to-bucky @readingtoescape @lbouvet @cojootromuelle @smginger1131 @maririn @justreadingfics @srgtjamesbarnes107

LTT Tags:

@mermaidinplaid @emilyinbuffalo @hollycornish @srgbxckybxrnes @the-doctor-called-loki @paranoid-borderline-insane @capcevans81 @illusionassasin @vivianbabz @marvel-fanfiction @charlesgrey1875 @bibitch-alicia @flowercrownsandmetallicarms @hopelessgarbage @sshort3078 @risinghero @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons @moonlightimagination

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #Mechanic!Bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky au #bucky fic #reader x bucky #avengers au #leave this town series

560 notes · View notes

dust2dust34 · 8 years ago

Text

Pieces of Always: October 2020 (FICoN ‘verse) (Explicit)

Life continues after Forever is Composed of Nows.

by @so-caffeinated and @dust2dust34

Summary: Oliver and Felicity rehash an old fight after she finds out the issue is considerably less settled than she'd thought.

An ongoing non-linear collection of family moments for the Queens. (You do not need to have read FiCoN to enjoy this, but it will spoil the end. Please see the first installment for additional author notes. Thank you @jsevick, @alizziebyanyothername and @n4r4nch4 for the amazing and quick beta!)

A/N: Please see the first chapter for an important Author’s Note, as well as under the cut for an additional one.

A/N: The effervescent @so-caffeinated is fully in the driver’s seat and she’s kicking all the ass, so please go send her your love!

A/N: Please note the rating change.

(read on AO3)

October 2020 - Tipping Point (Explicit)

He's waiting for her when she finally gets home.

Felicity's fingers freeze where they'd been tapping out a rapid, uneven staccato against her steering wheel when she sees him as the garage door slowly opens. He's sitting on the front steps leading into the house, his elbows leaning against his knees, his hands laced in front of him. It looks casual, easy… except for the guilt lining his broad shoulders and the grim slant of his lips.

She almost puts the car in reverse and leaves.

Almost.

She should have expected this, she realizes, should have known this was happening the second she got an update text from Thea about her and Roy picking up Jules from kindergarten and Ellie from the daycare.

For a long moment Felicity doesn’t move. She just sits in place in their small driveway with a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel and her car rumbling gently underneath her. She'd be blocking anyone who wanted to pull into the alley behind her, but she doesn't care. Neither does Oliver, apparently, because he's just as still, his eyes glued on her.

Waiting.

Felicity grips the steering wheel tight, wringing her hands around it, trying to remember how to breathe. But her lungs aren't getting the memo and instead of expanding and pushing much needed oxygen through her body, they're completely stationary, leaving her gasping for bits and pieces of air.

It feels like a panic attack, but it's not. She knows what that feels like, how the anxiety can suffocate her.

No, this is something else.

Anger.

Rage.

Betrayal.

Her wedding ring catches the dull light seeping through the cloudy sky.

She doesn’t see the garage - the row of bikes hanging on one wall, the broken manual lawnmower they kept forgetting to get rid of sitting in one corner, the crammed-in workbench littered with toys, a forgotten bottle and Oliver’s collection of tools that's grown along with his desire to fix things himself. Remnants of Jules’ chalk drawings are scrawled against one wall, in deference to the unseasonably rainy weather they’ve had lately, but she barely registers their presence. She doesn't see Oliver's car or the double-stroller or Ellie’s elephant blanket sitting on the passenger seat next to her or the half-open trash cans and too-full yard debris bin.

Felicity’s entire world is zeroed in on him and the feelings that’d threatened to drown her back at the bunker when she saw the flight confirmation on a private jet that was specifically outside of their usual range, chartered for a place she'd never, ever wanted to see. Never wanted any of them to see.

Tears burn her eyes and she squeezes them shut, cringing when one of them sneaks out, streaking down her cheek.

Felicity wipes it away, her nails scraping the sensitive skin under her eye, making her wince, but that doesn’t stop her from wiping at it again, erasing every last salty drop. She doesn’t want to cry, she wants to scream. The urge builds in her chest, ballooning out, crawling up her throat, a physical need to just… let go. But she doesn’t, not yet. Partly because she doesn’t want to scare the neighbors. Partly because she wants to make sure her husband hears it.

He's the first to give in.

Oliver slowly stands up. His eyes never leave hers, even when he winces as he puts weight on his knee, which tells her just how long he's been sitting there, waiting for her to come home. Hours. It's been hours and she's still nowhere near ready to do this, not prepared to go rounds over this or to let it go entirely. And he knows it. Oliver takes a heavy breath, a fortifying breath, pressing his palms to his thighs. She can see the bulge of his biceps through the henley he’s wearing, the strain to keep himself still evident in the tendons of his neck.

Suddenly the fact that he’s just sitting there, waiting for her - as if he can somehow make this better - has livid anger ripping through her. Felicity curses under her breath and shoots into the garage, making him skitter back despite not even being close enough to touch him. She takes a dark pleasure in the startled look on his face as she shoves the car into park and gets out.

Good, now you know how I feel.

“Felicity…”

“I can’t right now, Oliver,” she says, her voice shaking, pushing around him to get into the house. Her keys dig into her palms where she grips them in a tight, painful fist and one of them jabs her when she uses it to punch the garage door closed. The gentle whir of the garage shutting behind her sounds as she grabs the doorknob, but Oliver grabs her first. His hand closes around her elbow, pulling her back. “Damn it, Oliver,” Felicity snaps, yanking her arm back. “I need a minute.”

She’s had a minute. She’s had an hour. More. But that doesn’t make her even remotely ready for any of this.

His frustration is obvious, as are his attempts to tamp it down - and his entire inability to do so. That only pisses her off more. He’s frustrated? Really? How rich. Felicity lets out a huff of ironic laughter under her breath and moves to go inside, but Oliver grabs her again, his hand skating down to grab hers, his fingers lacing through hers.

“Felicity-”

She wrenches the door open before he can finish, jarring the doorframe and straining the hinges as she tries to pull her hand away from his in the same motion. But he grips her tighter, following her, refusing to let her go. It feels ironic, considering.

The door to the garage slams shut behind them, leaving them in the dark hallway. The only illumination comes from the laundry room where the half-closed dryer dimly lights up the space. Jules has been leaving it like that for months, since she discovered where her clothes come out hot and toasty, as she says.

Felicity tries to forge ahead alone, to put some distance between them, but Oliver is right at her back and she opens her mouth to tell him exactly where he can go, but…

“We need to talk about this,” he says.

Oh, that stops her.

Felicity blanches, wheeling around on him so fast he isn’t expecting it. He loses her hand, not that it matters, because she’s suddenly the one going after him as she advances on him, forcing him to step back until he runs into the laundry room jamb.

“Talk about it?” Felicity repeats, incredulity filling her voice where it echoes through the hallway. “You mean like we ‘talked’ about it a few months ago? When that son of a bitch first appeared out of thin air? Is that the conversation you want to rehash?” Oliver grits his teeth, closing his eyes as he puts his hands up, like he’s trying to placate her and oh, it’s the wrong move. She slaps one of his hands down and his eyes snap back open, fire lighting them up. But she’s not done. “I didn’t think so,” Felicity grits out. “Because if you’d paid attention to that conversation - if we could even call it a conversation - this wouldn’t be happening.”

“Felicity…”

He’s trying to remain calm, his breath steady, but his muscles bunch up like they’re straining against inaction. But she doesn’t want that, doesn’t want him to hold everything in and filter his words. Because he’s saying all the wrong things on top of doing the absolutely wrong thing and that he’s trying to placate her is making all of it worse.

“You’re blowing this out of proportion,” Oliver says.

“I’m…” Felicity’s jaw drops, incredulity edging into her angry eyes. “How exactly am I blowing this out of proportion, Oliver? I thought we’d settled this. The second he appeared, the second he told you who he was, we talked about this and we decided it was a bad idea. Even Thea thought this was a bad idea. No, I’m sorry, she thought it was ‘the worst idea you’ve ever come up with.’ Do you remember that?”

“Damn it, Felicity,” he breathes, turning away from her. He scrubs his face hard before pinching the bridge of his nose. “You don’t unders-”

“No,” Felicity retorts, cutting him off. “You don’t get to say that to me. I should be saying that to you, because how dare you do something like this behind my back.”

“I wasn’t doing it behind your back!” he growls, turning back to her.

“No?” Felicity asks, closing the distance between them. “So I found out from my husband that he sent a note to Ra’s Freaking Al Ghul that he was going to be in Nanda Parbat in two days? I heard that from you?”

“I was going to tell you-”

“You should have told me the second it occurred to you, when you…” And just like that, what really happened hits her. Felicity falters, her breathing stumbling out in startled gasps. She shakes her head, staring at Oliver who sees the realization hit her at the same time. And she knows what she’s thinking is right because the second he sees it, he flinches, guilt and grief filling his face. And resolve. It’s the last one that has her stomach twisting, has her taking a few steps back from him as she says, “You knew you were going to do this when he first arrived, didn’t you? Even after we talked, after you told me-”

He tries to go after her with a quiet, “Felicity-” but she slashes her hand through the air between them, cutting him off with a sharp, “No, Oliver! No, you don’t… You lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie to you,” he instantly replies. “I did not lie to you.”

“Then what exactly is this?” Felicity asks, her voice rising. “What do you call this, Oliver? Because it looks like lying to me!”

“It’s…” His mouth works soundlessly, because he has nothing to say. He has nothing. Oliver closes his eyes, his shoulders sagging. “Felicity, please-”

“Did you lie to me?” Felicity repeats. “It’s a simple question, Oliver.”

“I was going to tell you tonight.”

Frustrated tears blur her vision and she blinks them away as she puts two and two together. “‘Tell me.’ Not decide with me. Not work this through together. You were going to announce it after you already had everything set, after you already committed to going.”

Oliver buries his face in his hands, his muscles bunching, his fingertips turning white where he digs them into his skull. “Felicity-”

She ignores his plea. “Have you lost your freaking mind?”

Oliver growls something unintelligible into his palms before saying, “No,” but she’s already talking.

“Did you conveniently forget everything we talked about?” Felicity asks. “About Will and Jules and Ellie? About our unborn son - the one we haven’t even conceived yet - or how about what you yourself said when you came from the freaking future to get your daughter? You literally told yourself not to do this!” He flinches, because of course he knows, of course he remembers, and that makes it so much worse because he’s doing this anyway. “God, Oliver, it’s like none of our lives have even happened, it’s like suddenly nothing’s changed.”

His own brand of confused incredulity flashes over his face. “What?”

“Why the hell do you think you told yourself not to go to Nanda Parbat? Not to make any deals with Ra’s al Ghul?” Felicity asks. “Because that’s what you did then, what you would have done if everything hadn’t changed! And yet, here you are, making the same choices, when you know it’s a bad idea!”

“We don’t know that!” Oliver retorted, taking a powerful step towards her. It’s pure intimidation, pure desperation. “You’re right. Everything’s changed, Felicity. Everything. So why not this, too?”

Those five words leave her absolutely speechless.

So why not this, too?

Felicity tries to think, to move, to act, but she just… can’t - how can he not see - and Oliver takes advantage of it.

“Felicity, it’s not…” His voice softens, his tone becoming soothing, like he’s trying to calm her down, and it has a white hot rush of anger flooding her chest as he takes a step towards her. “It’s not what you think. I just need a few days to see if-”

“If what?” Felicity interrupts. Annoyance crosses his face and he presses his lips into a thin line, his eyes hardening. Felicity so does not care. “If it really exists? That he just wants to do you a favor - ‘hey, use my magical hot tub cure to fix your sister, it’s on the house.’ Tell me you’re not that stupid.”

“Goddamn it, Felicity,” Oliver snaps, the sharpness in his voice making her jump. “I can’t… you don’t know…”

He cuts himself off with a whispered curse before closing his eyes.

It’s the first real sign of his own aggravation slipping through, an aggravation that’s obviously been brewing since before that bastard materialized out of thin air two months ago with an offer he knew Oliver wouldn’t refuse. God, how long has he been feeling like this? Emotion chokes her and Felicity sucks in a quick breath, trying to make her lungs work, but they refuse. Now that she’s looking, really looking, she can see the strain of his decision in every line of his body. Grief hangs off him, dragging him down, emphasizing the dark circles under his eyes, the hollowness in his cheeks, the exhaustion in his shoulders. And the guilt… He suddenly looks so exhausted and it only confirms how long he’s been hiding this from her. That he’d made up his mind long ago. That he’d decided this for her, for his family, without consulting them.

How had she not seen it? Her mind whips back over the last few weeks - they’d been so distracted, with the kids and work and new underground gun trafficking that’s been taking over the Glades and she’d just…

She hadn’t seen it, but she does now.

That, and his resolve.

It’s that she responds to. Her own guilt is buried underneath all of it, that she hadn’t seen it, that she’d assumed what they’d talked about had been enough. She can’t handle that right now, because Oliver’s planning on leaving the day after tomorrow and that’s kind of a bigger issue at the moment.

Oliver takes a measured breath. “I’ve got it handled.”

“Handled?”

“Yes,” he grinds out, his eyes snapping back to her. He stares at her, trying to say everything with his eyes without actually saying it, but isn’t that the problem? Have they just not been talking lately? Things have been so busy and she thought they’d already sorted this out, so she put it out of her mind… It’s like he’s been thinking the same thing, just the completely freaking opposite of her own thoughts. His anger suddenly melts into something else as he whispers, “Can we just… not?”

Felicity clenches her jaw, not moving.

Can we just not argue about this, can we just not talk about this?

Like it's done, and he wants to not spend their last few days arguing about it.

The audacity of that simple request has more tears burning her eyes. She bites the tip of her tongue to keep them at bay. They’re right back at square one. And not just square one of this argument, but so much more - they were jumping years into the past, back to when he made stupid, idiotic, and rash decisions when he felt backed into a corner, when he didn’t take a second to think, to consider the people around him.

No. No, she isn’t going to let that happen again.

But before she can say anything, he's reaching for her, his face softening as he says, “I know…”

His tone is the final straw and Felicity just reacts.

With a harsh, “God, Oliver,” she hurls her keys at him, as hard as she can. He could stop them, if he wanted to, but he doesn’t, and they hit him square in the chest with a hard metallic smack before falling to the ground with an angry thud. She can tell it hurts like hell by the way Oliver’s nostrils flare, his hands closing into tight fists as he works his jaw in anger, hard enough to make it click.

Felicity suddenly wishes she had something else to throw at him.

She wants him to explode. He’s hid enough from her.

“Felicity,” Oliver says, dragging her name out - Fe-li-ci-ty. She can hear him trying to keep his cool, but he’s failing.

“No,” she says, her voice loud. Hurt and anger and frustration all coil together in her chest and she wants nothing more than to make him see it, to make him feel it. “This is not happening, Oliver. You are not going.”

“Yes,” he replies, his voice low with intent. “I am.”

“No, you’re not. What about Jules? And Ellie? God, what about Nate and all the… everything that we have going for us? What about Will? What do you want me to tell him when you disappear and he loses his father again. Your work, your life here, with us… with me…”

He instinctively reaches for her, but this time it’s him who stops it, who pulls himself back. “Felicity-”

God, he’s just not getting it. “And what about Thea?” she asks. “Have you conveniently forgotten what she said to you?”

“I’m doing this so she can live,” Oliver replies heatedly. “She and Roy deserve a real chance. All of this is so she doesn't have to suffer anymore.”

“So that makes the fact that you’re doing it behind her back - behind my back - better? You think this is what she wants? You really think she wants to live the rest of her life knowing what you gave up for her?”

Pain slashes over his face. “You don't-”

“And what price are you going to have to pay so that will happen?” Felicity asks. “Have you even thought about that?”

“Of course I have!” Oliver snaps.

“And what if it's your life you have to give up, Oliver?” Felicity waves her hands at the house, at their lives. “What about the price we have to pay just because you’ve decided we do? What if it's all this, the life we’ve built together, or the kids-”

“It won't be.”

“You don't know that!”

“Yes, I do!” Oliver growls. “I would never do that to you or our children, Felicity, never. You, Jules, Ellie, Will… Thea…” His voice cracks, emotion strangling him. “You are my world, Felicity, my entire world, and if there is ever something I can do to fix or heal or make better, I will do it in a goddamn heartbeat, every single time.”

Pain cuts through his eyes, deep enough that even she can feel it. It’s enough to make her pause as the air between them shifts, as Oliver shakes his head, turning away from her. He walks a few paces until he reaches the washer and dryer. His hands land on each of them with heavy thuds before he leans in, like he’s so desperately looking for something to help carry the load… but he’s also not willing to ask for the help, not this time.

That reality hurts almost as much the agony carving its way through him.

“It kills me that I can’t do anything for her,” he says, his voice so low she can barely hear it where he’s facing the wall. “That I have to sit back and watch her deal with this, this… this disease eating her from the inside. Especially when it’s my fault,” he adds on a whisper.

“Oliver, no,” Felicity gasps. “That is not what happened-”

“It is,” he cuts in definitively, turning to face her. “Slade happened. Isabel happened. It’s all of because of me. I get… I have this amazing life, Felicity, with you, with Will, with our girls… It’s a life I never thought I would get, not ever, but I got it. I got my happy ending, and what does she have? Why is she the one who has to pay the price for my sins?” He bites the tip of his tongue, and Felicity can see his resolve growing steadier. “I should be the one to fix it. To make it right. To give her back her life. And now we have a real lead on something that can actually do it and… I have to try.”

Of course he does. That’s who he is. That’s who he’s always been, the man she loves, the man who is willing to do everything and anything for the ones he cares for. It’s a loyalty that is cell-deep when it comes to his family, but it doesn’t end there; it includes the entire city. Of course she knows why he’s doing this… but she also knows why he absolutely can’t.

“No matter what the cost, right?” she whispers. Oliver flinches, averting his eyes before turning away from her again. Felicity frowns. “You already know the cost, don’t you? He already told you what he wants in exchange for Thea’s life.”

A long moment passes before he finally answers, “He wants the Arrow.”

“The…” Felicity shakes her head, trying to make sense of it. “The Arrow? Like… like joining-the-League-of-Assassins wants the Arrow?”

His silence is answer enough.

Blood rushes through her ears, her heart slamming into her chest plate. Her hands start shaking, the world starting to slant as what he’s saying sinks in.

He’d be gone.

Forever.

“No,” Felicity whispers. “No, that’s not going to happen. No. No.” She’s advancing on him before she knows what she’s doing. Felicity grabs the back of his shirt, pulling on it. He hisses when the material rips across his skin, but she doesn’t stop, grabbing his arm, yanking on it hard. It’s like a feather trying to move a building, but he gives in without a fight, letting her turn him around. He looks at the ground and Felicity grabs his face, forcing him to meet her eyes. “You can’t do that.”

“It’s the only way,” he replies softly, his hands coming up to cover hers. The second they do, though, the instant she feels his fingers closing in around hers, she yanks her hands back. Her nails scrape painfully through his stubble, making him wince as she glares at him.

“The only way is to leave your family?” she demands.

The question triggers something inside him because anger suddenly floods his face as he fires back, “I am not leaving you,” he fires back. “I will never leave you, Felicity, or our family. I’ll find a way home. I’m taking care of it.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Felicity asked. “What, like you’re taking care of Thea?” He grits his teeth, turning away from her, but she follows him, shoving herself between him and the dryer. “Is that what you mean?”

“Damn it, Felicity,” he growls, turning away from her again but before he can escape the room, she grabs his shirt again, yanking him back. This time he yanks back, though, spinning hard enough that she loses her grip. “I need you to trust that I know what I'm doing.”

“Then why did you hide it from me?”

“I didn't hide it!” Oliver snaps. “Fu… Just…”

He spins away again and Felicity follows him, getting in front of him so he can’t leave. His hands come up like he wants to pick her up and move her out of the way, but he doesn't, gritting his teeth instead. It pisses her off. She wants him to snap, to lose it, to let go, because then maybe he'd see that he was on his way to a suicide mission.

“Move,” Oliver says.

“No,” Felicity replies. He growls her name and it only makes her shove on his chest. “You wanted to talk, so let's talk. And I don't mean trying to make me be okay about the decision you've already made, because I won't ever be okay with it!”

“Then there's nothing else to talk about.”

Anger flares in her chest. “Oh, actually there is,” Felicity says. “How would you feel if it was me doing this? If I was making life-changing decisions behind your back-”

“Would you stop saying that, I didn't do it behind your goddamned back!”

She ignores him. “And I decided to disregard my sister’s wishes and did exactly what she told me not to do-”

“Felicity.”

“And I went to Nanda Parbat to make a deal with the devil over something that we don’t even know will work.” She stares at him, daring him to say anything to the contrary. “Would you be okay with that, Oliver? Would you be okay with me sacrificing myself, knowing I might never come home, that I might never get to see you again, or tuck my children in bed, or hug my sister, or-”

Oliver curses, his voice echoing in the small room, and this time he doesn’t stop himself from gripping her shoulders and literally lifting her off her feet, setting her out of the way. Felicity tries to get in front of him again, but he dodges her, stalking down the hallway.

“I’m going with you!” she shouts after him, and that has Oliver stopping dead in his tracks. He freezes, a preternaturally still shadow in the looming light coming from the living room, but he doesn’t turn around. Felicity glares at his back, her voice shaking with vehemence as she says, “If I can’t stop you, then you are not doing this alone. And if you think for even one second that I’m not going to go up to that son of a bitch myself and tell him to shove his offer up his ass-”

“No,” Oliver growls, turning around without warning. He stalks back towards her and she falters, his height and bulk suddenly filling the space. He’s all fury as he closes in on her. “You are going nowhere near that man.”

The demand in his voice enrages her.

“Oh, yes I am,” Felicity shoots back, closing the distance that’s left between them. She pokes his chest, but it isn’t enough so she slams her palms into him, but he barely budges. “I love you, Oliver. I love you so much it hurts, so much that I can’t even stand it sometimes, and I will follow you to the ends of the earth and if you don’t know that by now then I don’t know what to tell you-”

“Felicity…” His voice cracks with anger, but also with love, her words touching on something deep inside him. A flicker of doubt pierces through the resolve, but it’s gone a quick second later. “No,” Oliver says, shaking his head. “No, you’re not going. This man is dangerous-”

“God, Oliver,” Felicity snaps, making fists like she’s going to pound on him, but she can’t make them connect as tears blur her vision. “That’s the whole point!”

“I can’t lose you, Felicity!” he yells. “I can’t… I’m already losing Thea and I cannot lose you. I won’t!”

“So you think it’s better that I lose you?” she fires back, her heart breaking for him, especially when he flinches at her words, but she doesn’t back down. “Because I don’t!” she continues. “You can’t lose me, Oliver? I can’t lose you. I can’t! I can’t do it, and I can’t let you do this. You are the father of my children, but you’re also the love of my life. I love you more than anything, Oliver Jonas Queen, anything, and if you think I’m going to just stand by and let you-”

Felicity doesn’t see him move.

He’s a blur of movement, standing before her one second and the next grabbing her face, his lips slanting over hers in a demanding kiss.

Oliver swallows her startled gasp, taking advantage of her parted lips to deepen the kiss. It stuns her, but she’s quick to react, all the anger and turmoil and love for this infuriating man suddenly morphing into something far more carnal, something that crashes into her with an alacrity that takes her breath away.

God, she needs him, now. Always. Next week and next year and in twenty years, but especially now.

Felicity kisses him back with a desperate groan, grabbing his shirt in tight fists, yanking him down closer to her. She pours every ounce of frustration and anger at him into the kiss, every bit of love and devotion she feels for him, giving him every single inch of everything she is, because she always has, and she always will. Because she will do everything for this man, including walking to the edge of an abyss, if only so that he won’t have to do it alone.

The kiss is all-consuming, a heady mixture of need and love and anger that has it morphing into something more forceful, bruising. It’s a culmination of their fight, of their disagreement, but also of the last few weeks since this first came up, and even the frustrated months before that.

She can’t remember the last time she’d felt this need, the kind that burns her from the inside out, that leaves her craving nothing else but touching him, feeling him.

It fuels the emotion erupting between them, amplifying the already-explosive tension.

Nothing’s resolved, nothing has been fixed or decided, but at the same time this fits. They need this, they need to let go, to remind themselves of what they’re saying, what they’re fighting for… what they’d be losing.

Oliver kisses her even harder, biting her lip, angling his head to get more, to take more, and she returns it just as readily. His fingers dig into her face, his callused palms deliciously rough against her cheeks, sending sparks of want raining through her. Felicity pulls on his shirt hard, pulling on him before winding her arms around his neck, curling a leg around his.

Her lungs burn for oxygen, and she pulls away with a ragged moan, inhaling sharply, but she needs him too much. She can’t stop. Her lips find his again and he attacks her with the same urgency, feeling the same desperation that has her clinging to him.

Oliver pushes her backwards, one hand flying out to find the doorjamb to the laundry room, just in time to keep her from crashing into it. They stumble, nearly falling to the side when he tries to push her up against it. Normally it’d be something they’d stop to laugh about, to treasure, to revel in because while they haven’t exactly been making the time lately, they still give each other everything when they find moments between just the two of them… But this isn’t that. It’s nowhere close to that.

With a growl, Oliver spins them further into the room, pushing her up against the washer with enough force to make it rock. Neither of them notice as they cling to each other, their gasps filling the small room, their lips brushing together between kisses, breathing each other’s air.

Not wasting a second, Oliver’s hands drop to her waist and he lifts her like she weighs nothing at all, setting her down on the washer gracelessly. It’s cold against her heated thighs, making her gasp. He covers her lips at the sound, surging forward, making more of her flesh touch the cold metal. Felicity instantly spreads her legs, wrapping them around him, tugging him close, her skirt falling open. Oliver grasps her hips, pulling her closer to the edge, sending a harsh burn across the back of her thighs where her skin drags against the washer.

“Ah!” Felicity whines, digging her nails into him. Oliver pauses, pulling back, his lips already forming the words to ask if she’s okay, but Felicity shakes her head with a rasped, “No, don’t stop,” before pulling his lips back to hers.

He doesn’t.

Their movements are harsh and uneven as Oliver pushes her skirt up to her waist, his fingers digging into her hips, underneath the band of her panties as her hands drop to his belt. Her fingers are shaking with emotions she can barely comprehend as she yanks it open before her fingers find the button and zipper.

It’s fast, urgent, and the second she has his pants undone, she shoves them down his hips along with his briefs. His hardness comes free between them, standing tall at the same time Oliver hooks his fingers in her panties and tugs them out of the way, exposing her already-wet sex.

They don’t make time to make sure she’s ready or they’re both on the same page, there isn’t room for that.

Felicity reaches between them and grasps him, earning a breathless whine from him and a jerk of his hips when she squeezes him tightly. Oliver wraps himself around her, one hand cupping her cheek, his fingers digging in painfully while the other grabs her hip.

The instant he’s at her entrance, he thrusts inside her, hard and fast, filling her completely.

“Oh god,” Felicity cries. She slips one hand around to his ass, pushing the other into his hair where she makes a tight fist. He gasps her name, his voice laced with pain and need and love, and she nods, pushing her face against his, searching for his lips as he pulls out and thrusts back in, just as hard, just as painful. Felicity keens his name, digging her nails into his backside, needing more, so much more…

He gives it to her, because he needs it just as badly, needs her just as much.

“Felicity,” he hisses against her mouth, gripping her tight as he thrusts into her, his pelvis slapping against hers. His lips cover hers again, but it does nothing to muffle their cries of pleasure, their need to be as connected as possible. He thrusts harder… and harder… filling her… drowning her in sensation… But when he pulls out too far on one thrust, her panties get in the way. He groans a harsh, “Fuck,” before stopping.

“Wait,” Felicity gasps as Oliver pulls back just enough to reach between them and under her skirt. She frowns, her brain trying to make sense of what he’s doing, some part of her registering it but the rest of her still caught up in why he’d stopped moving. “Oliver, what…?”

“These…” Oliver snarls before he grabs her wet panties where they’re still on her and rips them down the center.

Felicity jerks in surprise, a startled, “Oh,” slipping out. He twists the pieces around her so they’re out of the way before grabbing her hips with bruising force, pulling out and thrusting home with enough force to make the entire washer move, his pleasure-laced cry echoing hers.

It all happens fast, too fast for her to keep up, but she’s not complaining. He’s letting go, he’s doing exactly what she wanted him to do, and it’s just so right.

He hammers into her and Felicity whimpers, scrambling to hold onto him, pain blossoming at the force of his thrusts. But pleasure is right there with it, white hot, deep in her core, searing through her. Felicity shudders, her hips moving to meet his, her legs tightening around him, one of her heels falling off. The thought of him going deeper, as deep as he can, being so connected with her that she can’t tell where he begins and she ends, pushes her higher, the thought desperately erotic and perfect.

Oliver slams into her, over and over, his face a mixture of lust and frustration and anger, but underneath it all is the bright light of his love, of the person he is at his very core, shining through.

“Yes…” she whispers, cupping the back of his head, pulling him closer. “Oliver. Yes.”

She needs more, so much more, she needs all of him and in return, she gives him everything she is. And he takes it, almost greedily, almost as readily as he gives her his all. It’s all their love for each other, all their years together, all the obstacles they’ve overcome, all the things they’ve experienced, it all comes together right now, a bone-deep recognition building between them just as quickly as their pleasure.

“Oh god,” Oliver chokes out, holding her tighter, his voice dropping into a desperate whine as he thrusts faster. He’s trembling - or maybe she is, she can’t tell - and she holds him, whispering nonsensically as he gasps, “Felicity…”

He’s close, she can feel it in the way he jerks against her, the way his arms start to shake. Felicity wraps her arm around his shoulders, shoving her forehead against his as she pushes her other hand between them to find her clit. She wants to come with him, she needs to. The second she touches it, pleasure slices through her, so sharp it hurts. Felicity cries out, digging her nails into the back of his head as she starts rubbing herself. Pleasure coils deep inside her, all her nerves growing taut with anticipation as she soars higher, joining him. Oliver groans her name, his hips faltering for a second as he looks down. But he catches himself. He wraps his arm around her, grabbing her ass, keeping her stationary as he places his hand over hers, their fingers lacing together right where she needs them.

“Ooh!” Felicity yelps, his rough fingers on her wet clit rubbing in tight circles with her soft ones as he thrusts deeper, harder… “Yes, yes… yes, oh god, oh god!”

Oliver’s lips cover hers just as her orgasm hits.

A sheet of white skates over her eyes, blinding her to everything but him. He’s everywhere, surrounding her, and she surrenders completely. Their fingers still work together as pleasure crashes through her, her silken walls clamping down around him, sucking him in deeper, her cries suddenly growing louder when she pulls back from Oliver enough to gasp for air.

Her sobs push him over the edge, and a second later Oliver comes. His loud cries echo out of the small laundry room, mixing in with his gasps as he keeps thrusting, spilling everything he is into her… and then he suddenly wraps her up in his arms and thrusts one last time, as deep as he can, triggering one more small orgasm that makes the soles of Felicity’s feet tingle.

The silence that follows is deafening.

Nothing was fixed, or even discussed really. No, they’d just been yelling and suddenly they were kissing and…

And nothing was resolved. And they’re both very aware of it.

It’s a long moment before they finally untangle from each other.

Oliver pulls out of her with a soft gasp, one she echoes at the emptiness she’ll never get used to after having him inside her. He tucks himself back into his briefs, pulling his pants up as Felicity silently kicks off her remaining heel before hopping off the washer. Her legs are unsteady and she grips the edge of the large machine just as Oliver reaches for her, his fingers grazing her waist.

The second he touches her, the invisible wall that’d reappeared evaporates all over again.

“Oliver,” Felicity breathes, her voice cracking and his face crumbles.

They move at the same time, wrapping around each other as tightly as they can.

Oliver buries his face in her shoulder, inhaling deeply as Felicity presses her face into his neck, hugging him with everything she has. The weight of what they’d been fighting about, about what it is that they will have to face, it hits her all at once and she shudders, clinging to him.

But as long as they stick together, they will get through it. They’ve conquered so much, been through so much, but if there’s one thing she can say with confidence, it’s that if they stick together, they can do anything.

Including this.

“Don’t go,” she says. The words are so quiet, barely audible, but he catches them. Oliver stiffens, and she holds him tighter, in case he wants to pull away. “Please. Just… I know you feel like you have to, Oliver, but please… please…”

Silence falls over them, a heavy pressure that makes her ears hurt as she waits. He’s frozen in her arms, his muscles tense, and she can’t tell what he’s about to do, not without looking at his face, but she doesn’t dare pull away, not yet.

His breath suddenly catches, and then he deflates.

Something wet falls on her neck, and it takes her a second to realize it’s a tear when Oliver whispers, “I don’t know what to do, Felicity.”

Felicity’s face crinkles with her own tears at the sadness in his voice, how broken he sounds. One slips down her cheek as she holds him closer, kissing the side of his neck. “I know,” she replies, another tear falling, just as another one of his hits her neck again, his shoulders starting to tremble. “But we’ll figure it out. I promise. I promise.”

Oliver takes a shaky breath and she wonders if he’s going to fight her on it again, if he’s going to pull away after a second and stand firm in his resolve… but he doesn’t. Oh, thank god he doesn’t. Instead he goes the opposite way, and it’s all the answer she needs right now. He wraps himself more fully around her, leaning into her so much she nearly falls. But she stands tall, taking all of the weight he’s sharing with her, sharing the burden with him.

“We’ll figure it out,” Felicity whispers, stroking the back of his neck, holding him up. “We will.”

He finally nods, giving her a shuddery breath as more tears fall, as he holds onto her and lets go of everything else.

Silent tears dissolve into quiet sobs.

He cries for what he was going to do, what he wants to do, what he’s losing…

But also for what he’s getting to keep.

Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse.

#olicity #olicity fic #olicity fanfic #olicity fanfiction #olicitysquee #oliver queen #felicity smoak #forever is composed of nows #ficon #pieces of always #arrow #arrow fanfiction #fanfiction #my fics #my fics: cowritten #so-caffeinated #dust2dust34

41 notes · View notes

kpopfanfictrash · 8 years ago

Text

Fine Line

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Mark

Rating: 18+ (smut)

Prompt: “Please put your penis away.” / Smut / It’s a fine line between love and hate. At least, that’s what you tell yourself in order to remain blindly oblivious to the fact that, despite your best efforts, you have a definite attraction to your roommate. A roommate who may or may not like you back.

Word Count: 2,330

It’s well past 1:00 AM when you decide you can’t sleep. Rolling out of bed and heading into the kitchen. The apartment is quiet, as dark as the night outside. The gentle hum of the refrigerator is the only sound - that, and your footsteps on cold tile.

You open your refrigerator to peer inside. Squinting at the bright light spilling out to create a perfect sliver on the floor. You grab the milk, pressing it into the crook of your arm as you search for hot chocolate mix.

The approaching sound of footsteps interrupts your struggle, enough to make you jump, almost dropping the milk as you whirl around.

Mark stands framed in your doorway.

Mark Tuan, your roommate. You didn’t really know him before he moved in. He’s the friend of a friend, barely an acquaintance who moved to your city around the same time your roommate was moving out. You were left with an open bedroom and need for rent – two things Mark was able to fill.

It’s now been over a month and he’s still here. You two were quiet at first. Tip-toeing around each other as you learned new schedules and routines.

Slowly though, you found little things about him that are annoying. Like the way he places empty milk cartons back into the refrigerator as a reminder to buy new ones. Or how he forgets his laundry is in the washer and you end up transferring it into the dryer. Or Mark’s friends, hanging out and playing video games at all hours of the night.

Around the end of week two things started to get hostile. You decided to start dropping passive-aggressive reminders of whose apartment this really was. Throwing his empty milk cartons away. Dumping his laundry on the floor when it was done. Inviting your friends over before Mark left his office, grabbing the TV first.

Mark caught on quickly. You saw him scowl when you did these things, watched his eyebrows furrow as he looked at you. That’s how you knew your message was getting across. Hiding your own smile when he’d stomp back into his bedroom. Filled with the vindication that you’d won.

At least, you were winning - until Mark started to fight back. Bringing the dish detergent into his room so you had to purchase your own. Vacuuming at weird times, hammering picture frames in the middle of work calls. Each time you’d glare at him and each time he’d look back, wide-eyed and innocent. All smiles as he quickly turned the vacuum off.

And so the cycle continued.

Now you shut the refrigerator door, wincing as your eyes re-adjust to the dark. When you can see normally again, Mark is frowning back at you.

“You woke me up,” he mumbles.

Turning, you place both milk and chocolate on the counter. “Sorry.”

Behind you, Mark snorts. Walking over to the fridge and throwing it wide open to bathe his front in light. “Are you?”

“Do you care?” you shoot back, pouring milk into the mug.

He shuts the fridge and faces you, frowning. Mark is dressed in a plain, white t-shirt, paired with navy boxer-briefs. They hug his body, highlighting all the right places. Mark is annoying but what’s most annoying about Mark is how completely unaffected he is by you.

The first time you met, your jaw nearly dropped. With that dark, floppy hair and defined jawline, you felt more than a little weak in the knees. Medium height, medium build and wow – that face.

Mark also worked out. The first time you came home to find him doing push-ups in your living room – well, let’s just say it was a day you haven’t forgotten. Hot and sweaty, pushing himself up from the ground. You swallow, remembering.

Mark, though – Mark never seems to see you as anything but his roommate. Someone to help him out in a tough spot but never more than friends. He’s never indicated he cares for more, which bothers you. Maybe more than you want to admit.

Pushing these thoughts from mind, you gently stir the your hot chocolate mix into your mug.

Mark watches you do this. “Aren’t you cold,” he asks, “sleeping in just that? Did you forget your sweatshirt?”

You glance down at the camisole and boy shorts and slightly flustered, you open the microwave. “You’re one to talk,” you mumble. “Please put your penis away.”

From the corner of your eye, you see Mark start. Glancing down quickly before realizing he’s completely covered. His face, looking back up, is annoyed at best.

You’re unable to hide your laughter, giggling wildly as you press start. “Made you look.”

“Super mature,” Mark groans, rolling his eyes. “Why don’t you just pants me next time?”

That thought makes you blush though, so you turn away. Not quick enough for him not to see. Something in Mark’s expression changes and he steps forward.

“Hey,” he says, suddenly serious. “Can I ask you something?”

The microwaves beeps, signaling your drink is done. As you press the off button, you debate whether or not to look at him. “What is it?” you ask, ignoring the way your pulse pounds.

Mark takes another step. “I just want to know…” He trails off, clearly at war with himself. “I just want to know why you hate me so much? What did I do?”

Your hand drops from the microwave, thrown by his statement. After a long pause, you turn to face him. “I – I don’t hate you.”

His eyebrows shoot way, way up. “You act like you do. Always rolling your eyes when I enter the room. You never sit with me, you always go straight to your bedroom. We’ve barely spoken for more than five minutes since my arrival. Actually – this is probably the longest conversation we’ve ever had.”

Your mouth is suddenly dry because you have no way to answer him. You can’t tell Mark that the reason you avoid him is because of exactly the opposite of what he fears. You actually don’t hate him at all.

At your continued silence, Mark shrugs. “Whatever,” he says, eyes carefully roaming your face. “I guess it doesn’t matter. I just thought – never mind.”

As Mark turns to leave, you exhale. Struggling to slow your racing heartbeat. It’s better this way, better if he never knows. You reach for the microwave. Halfway there, his hand closes over yours and Mark turns you to face him.

Mark presses into you, lips finding yours as his hands slide over your body. You gasp, lips parting as your palms press tightly to his chest. Mark’s chest, still warm from bed. He slows the motion of his lips against you, slowly pulling away.

His arms stay wrapped around you. “I’m sorry,” Mark whispers, though he doesn’t move.

You don’t move either, blinking up at him. “What was that?”

Mark’s hand drifts up to slide a piece of hair behind your ear. “I just wondered,” he breathes. “Have been wondering since I moved in, what that would be like.”

There’s a brief pause. A moment when things seem to fall in order. That annoyance you feel, that crumbling feeling of wanting what you can’t have. Those feelings are gone. Replaced by a feeling of fullness, this knowledge that all this time – Mark wanted you, too.

Instead of responding, you kiss him. Rise up on tip-toes to press your lips to his. Nothing like the insistent, needy kiss of earlier. No, this one is quiet. Soft. Almost like breathing. Mark’s hands slide tremblingly along your jaw. Cupping your face and pressing back.

The refrigerator switches on. Its sudden noise startles you enough to step backwards, taking Mark with you. His hands catch his balance on the counter, leaving you pressed between him, hovering between his legs. Mark’s hair falls forward and you find it hard to breathe.

“So you like me, too?” he murmurs, voice hopeful.

Slowly, you nod. Hardly daring to let yourself feel this way. “Yes.”

Mark cocks his head, pulling back. “Then why did you act like you hated me?”

“I, uh.” Your lips part staring back at him. “I didn’t think you liked me.”

Mark laughs quietly, winding his fingers into your hair. “Wrong.” He bends to kiss you again, hips digging into yours.

You arch upwards, struggling to slow your racing thoughts. His arms move to your waist, then thighs as he lifts you onto the counter. Mark kisses you lazily, slowly, as though you have all the time in the world. You groan when his lips leave your mouth, sliding down your neck as his fingers flutter against your hipbones.

“I can’t believe you wear this to bed,” Mark murmurs, dropping a kiss to your collarbone. Sliding a hand beneath the camisole to slide down your arm.

You suck in your breath, shivering when the pad of his thumb brushes over your nipple. “Mark.”

“Mm?”

You take a deep breath, focusing. “I haven’t seen what you’ve done with your bedroom. You know, since you moved in.”

He stills. “My bedroom?”

You nod.

Mark’s eyes darken. He looks up at you, waiting until you nod before kissing you again, wasting no time in wrapping both legs around his waist. His hands move to your thighs as he lifts you, then your butt. Your back hits his door as you enter, causing you to burst out laughing. Mark laughs too, voice catching in a noise that makes you giggle.

“That’s cute,” you murmur, as he places you on his bed.

“What is?” Mark crosses his arms over his torso, pulling his t-shirt upwards.

You sit up, heart pounding. “Shit,” you say, which makes him grin.

“Your turn,” he nods.

Without looking away, you slide your camisole straps down your shoulders. Pushing far enough to wriggle free. “I think you can do the rest,” you say, leaning back on your elbows.

Mark’s eyes darken as slowly, he sits onto the bed. Pressing his weight to yours as his lips gently trail your skin. His fingers join his lips when he reaches your camisole, pulling until your breasts are free. Mark’s mouth finds first one nipple, then the other. Teasing until you’re arched on the bed beneath him, breathy moans leaving from your lips.

Either your hands or his pull your shorts down – you’re not sure which. His are next, flung to some far-off corner of the room you don’t pay attention to. Then it’s just his bare skin against yours - warm and soft and hard all at once. Your legs part, making way for his fingers.

His fingers, tracing gentle patterns. Sliding inside you, making you gasp. As his index finger moves, Mark captures your lips with his. His tongue makes the same motion as below and it’s too much – you’re shaking when he pulls away.

“I need you,” you say, pulling him closer.

Mark’s eyes regard you seriously, light in the moonlight. “Are you sure?”

You nod.

“Okay.” His hands are unsteady reaching for the condom. Mostly because as his hands are reaching, your own are touching him. Relishing in his hardness beneath your palm. Mark groans, eyes closing as he clutches the headboard above you. “Babe,” he breathes, opening his eyes. “You want me to come right now?”

Grinning, you shrug. “Maybe.”

Mark rolls the condom down, shaking his head to position himself at your center. “I don’t think so,” he murmurs, just his tip entering. “Not yet.”

And then he’s inside, sheathing himself fully. The movement makes Mark bite his lip, hands finding your legs and holding you steady. His forehead finds yours as you adjust to the feel of him inside you. Then he pulls back, pausing for a moment before sinking back into you.

Groaning, you lift your hips. Allowing him deeper, farther. Mark quietly curses, hand sliding to the back of your knee. You moan at the new angle, slow and deep with the motion of his pelvis. His hair falls across your forehead, hand interlaced with your own. He slides your arm above your head, continuing to thrust.

Your bodies move, hips circling with every touch. Before long you’re on edge. Pulling him closer, wanting every part of you together. Your lips connect, mirroring the movements as he whispers small things to you.

“That red dress, I liked that dress.” Long kiss. “When you did yoga on the balcony. Shit.” His tongue slips inside your mouth. “Your hair. Long. Just out of the shower.”

You moan as his tempo increases, other hand sliding down your body. His fingers start a gentle rhythm against you, teasing as he continues to move. You’re trembling, pressing yourself upwards as the pleasure builds.

“Mark,” you cry, burying your face in his neck. You come, shaking with the sensation as your world collapses around you. “Mark,” you sigh, slowly breathing his name to build yourself back together.

Mark lasts only a few seconds longer than you. You feel him tense inside you, muscles taut before he collapses onto the bed. Sliding from your body and pulling you against him. He’s smiling, you realize. Visible even beneath his strands of brown-black hair.

You grin, pushing these away from his beautiful face. Mark smiles back at you. For a second, you’re locked in your own world. Just the two of you; idiots lost in a moment. Then Mark tugs you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“So you hated me before,” he sighs, kissing you again. “Do you still hate me now?”

You laugh, loving the feeling of his chest on yours, rising and falling. “I never hated you,” you say. “And now I hate you even less.”

Chuckling, Mark slides his fingers through your hair. “Well, if this is how you act when you hate me… maybe tomorrow I’ll leave the milk carton empty.”

“Don’t you dare,” you scold, snuggling into him. “I still have tricks up my sleeve.”

“I’d like to see those.”

“Oh, you will.”

[2,000 Followers Drabble Challenge]

#WOO okay- only one more drabble to go!! so so sorry these took awhile #2000 followers drabble game #mark tuan smut #got7 smut #got7 mark smut #mark tuan drabble #got7 drabble #got7 mark drabble #mark tuan #got7 #got7 mark #mark got7 #q: mark tag

1K notes · View notes