#gonna decompress a bit and then knock those out

[leatherforhell]

I’m home. it’s Friday. I lived.

[pixiebuggiewrites]

Sorry Wrong Number!

Masterpost - Previous - Next - Ao3 link

Chapter 2:  Hawkmoth has really bad designs and perhaps even worse timing

Since it was her off night from patrol, Ladybug was the last one onto the scene. She landed down on a building next to Viperion, who was observing the akuma’s skillset as Kuro Neko played distraction down below them.

The villain of tonight's look was... interesting to put it nicely. They were a boy around the same age as the heroes that seemed to be wearing a slightly oversized purple and blue three piece suit with a not-so-subtle lightning pattern running up the arms. His hair was shock white and seemed to be defying gravity while his eyes were protected by bright blue goggles-possibly where the akuma was residing. More importantly, he seemed to be covered in electricity, which was gonna make it difficult to get any hits in. He also had a laptop with him- another contender for the akuma’s hiding place but most likely just a weapon.

Not Hawkmoth’s worst design, but it definitely wasn't his finest work either. Though to be fair she had run around in spotted spandex for two years before she found out she could change her costume, so those in glass houses she supposed.

Viperion, noticing the team leader's arrival began to fill her in on what they knew so far.

“They're calling themselves ‘Elect-Trick’, keeps sending out shockwaves to try and knock us back which is frustrating but our suits seem to take the brunt of it which helps but Neko’s staff is a no go at the moment since there's no way to know if it’ll conduct the electricity.”

It likely would, something they had found out the hard way during the last weather akuma they had to face. While magical it was still metallic in nature sadly, which meant she needed to also be careful with her yoyo. She still isn't really sure what it’s made of besides magic, but this was not the way she wanted to find out.

“Alright, in that case we’ll continue to keep him away from the Eiffel Tower, it’s likely the akuma’s going to try and use it as a large conductor. I’m gonna head down, stay up here and be ready to use your second chance at the signal.” She instructed

Viperion nodded and went back to watching the fight just as Ladybug swooped down to join in. She was just in time as the akuma had begun to corner Neko, who had no choice but to rely on playing defense while her staff was out of the mix. The two heroes nodded their heads in greeting as Ladybug yoyo-d her cat themed friend over putting the duo back on even ground with the villain, who seemed to be ranting about school elections of all things.

Which would be a probable explanation for the first half of his name.

The two continued to fight back against the akuma, neither side quite able to grab the upper hand. Ladybugs yoyo-as it turned out, did not conduct electricity afterall. And, seeing as it's practically indestructible she was able to land hits on the akuma without getting shocked. But the akuma had realized the issue with Neko’s staff and was using that to their advantage, aiming a decent chunk of their attacks at the cat hero which forced them to go back on the defense.

As the fight had been going for over an hour at this point, the spotted heroine decided to bring out the big guns. After doing a silent signal letting Viperion know to start his timer, she got in position to call on her lucky charm.

But she didn't get a chance to. Just as she went to throw her yoyo in the air, Viperion called out a warning that sent a feeling of dread through her.

“LB watch out, There's an amok headed straight for the computer!”  

Sure enough, there was an all too familiar purple feather floating through the air on track for the laptop that she quickly caught and purified it before it could land. Thank the Kwami for the power of second chance, nobody wanted to deal with a sentimonster on top of everything else tonight.

Keeping Kuro Neko on the lookout for anymore feathers, She finally activated her lucky charm. Throwing her yoyo up she manifests… a slingshot! She could work with that, just needed to find ammo. Looking around her eyes land firmly on the window of a small toyshop.

Bingo!

Having Viperion keeping an eye out in case he was needed temporarily as backup, she sneaks over and breaks the window with her yoyo. Typically, the heroine would feel bad about causing this much property damage but tonight she’s tired and wants to get this over with so she can make a plan of action for the whole ‘Mayura seems to be back’ thing with her team and maybe get at least a couple hours of sleep. Anyways her miraculous cure would fix the window and return the bouncy balls she was actively stealing so no harm done? After finishing committing what was technically a misdemeanor, she made her way over to the roof Viperion was on and handed off the slingshot supplies before making her way back down.

Luckily Neko had managed to keep Elect-Trick distracted enough for the team to catch him off guard. On Ladybugs call Viperion began to pelt the Akuma with rubber balls, drawing his sight away for long enough to tie him up and take his glasses. One cataclysm later, the teen had been successfully deakumatized and she was able to cast her cure, fixing the decent chunk of property damage caused that night. After making sure the teen was okay to get home safe and getting his address for the interview she would have to conduct later, she turned to her team.

“Good work today guys, let's meet back at base in 30.” Her eyes communicated the urgency of the meeting despite the neutral tone of voice she tried to maintain.

From there the teens all departed in separate directions to recharge their powers and head to the team's secret base.

----------

Okay so secret base was a bit of an overstatement. It is a secret place that the team uses as a base of operations but it was less of a Batcave and more of a repurposed hotel room in Le Grand Paris.

Chloe had brought up the idea after one too many close calls with Marinette's parents while the girls were investigating Hawkmoth. They needed a place to discuss hero work safely without having to talk in code but the question was where. Obtaining an apartment would be difficult as all of them but Luka were still underage, not to mention the issue of trying to pay rent without any parental suspicion. Luckily for Chloe, it's surprisingly easy to just claim a hotel room without being questioned when your Father owns the hotel.

And while it was no Batcave, it wasn't anything to scoff at either. The four teens had been able to pool together enough money in the beginning for the basics, which meant that now any small snuck away chunks of commission money, music gig payments, competition winnings, and allowances were all able to go to improving things bit by bit.

The room was already quite nice, having a separate bedroom that they used as a gym and a kitchenette that was kept well stocked with kwami snacks. Then there was the  main area, which had been split down the middle. The first side was dedicated to the investigation and housing Marinette's Guardian materials, While the second half was a hangout zone where they could chat or decompress after any particularly rough fights.

The base was also secure, Marinette had put so many spells and protections on the room with the help of the kwami that it might as well be a pocket dimension of sorts. The magical security system of sorts was extremely complicated, being tied to the teams auras in a way so that the only way to even find it without being one of them was to be taken there by Ladybug herself. It had taken weeks to pull off but was well worth it to give her team a place that was safe from the outside world.

Ladybug was the first to arrive this time, having flopped down into a chair at their meeting table as her two friends entered the room and joined her. They all sat there for a moment, processing the fact of Mayura’s return. Of course this would happen when they were down a member, it wasn't a complete surprise that the peacock miraculous would come back into play at some point but it was really bad timing.

“So what exactly is the plan?” Viperion asked, finally breaking the silence.

Ladybug sighed, knowing that their workload was going to increase once again. At least it was close to summer vacation.

“First we need to increase patrols- especially around the typical hot spots, Neko do you think we’ll be able to finish those jars by this time next week?”

The cat hero nodded “They're almost done, we’ll need to test them somehow though.”

The two of them had recently been working on a variation of an object enchantment technique mentioned in the grimoire. The original object was dubious in nature, having been used as a cage of sorts that kwami wouldn't be able to phase through. Marinette was disgusted by the thought, further feeding into some suspicions she had about the old order. As she was ranting about it to Kagami about it, her fencer friend got an idea for a way to repurpose the spell to trap akuma when Ladybug couldn't easily get to a fight. It would also allow them a new way to prevent possessions when Ladybug wasn't actively on patrol.

“That's good. Lastly I need Bee’s new number, I was going to ask you for it tomorrow but I need to give her a heads up to start on a new case file. We also might want to move up our plans to contact the heroes there.”

Kuro Neko quickly jotted down the number on a nearby notecard and handed it to Ladybug. After hammering out a few last details about their new patrol schedules the heroes were all free to head home for the night.

The trip home was uneventful, and she arrived home to see that it was just past midnight. She also noticed that her bath bomb had been fixed! It was sometimes a gamble on if something like that would count as akuma damage so it was a nice victory after the day she’s had.

Marinette quickly put in Chloe's number, eager to get to bed. She sent her blonde friend a summary on what happened and let her know to be on the lookout for an email tomorrow with the information to assemble a case file. And with that, Marinette drifted off to sleep.

She had made a small mistake though. In her tired state the young designer’s finger slipped, putting a 5 where there was meant to be a 4.

Meaning Chloe Bourgeois was not the recipient of her intended message.

Good thing she wrote the message in code?

----------

Across the ocean, Damian Wayne received a strange text message.

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

Taglist (open!!): 

@queencommonsense

[delacyrose224]

Champagne Problems

-Pairing: bassist!Yoongi x OC

-Premise: Yoongi keeps to himself, but everything changes when he opens up to his best friend about his past.

-Genre: rock band!AU, angst with some fluff

-Word count: 2.8k

-Author's Note: This is a continuation of the Gold Rush universe! Each band member will get his own story based off a song on Taylor Swift's evermore album. This story revealed just how much of a soft spot I have for Yoongi...

“Are you sure you can’t come with?” Jungkook shoots Yoongi a sad look with his doe eyes.

“Yes, now shut up and go. Stop trying to guilt trip me with puppy dog eyes, suck it up and go be awkward with that girl you met. I can tell you think she’s cute, so go be gross and flirty somewhere else far from me, please,” Yoongi huffs as he loads equipment into the band’s van.

“Yeah, JK, leave him alone...he’s going to hang out with Olivia.” Jin emphasizes the last word with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Olivia’s more important than us anyway...even though we’ve known him longer. It’s fine, we’ll be fine.” He throws his hand against his forehead as if he’ll faint for emphasis.

Yoongi cuts a harsh side eye at Jin. “Yes, I am going to hang out with Olivia. I’ve had plans with her for a week now. You knew this. It’s not my fault if you forgot.”

Jin falters at this, his face softening into care for his oldest friend. “Yeah, I know. We’ll see you when you get home, okay?” Yoongi nods in affirmation.

“I’m taking the train there, make sure the equipment gets unloaded tonight. I don’t care what goo-goo eyes those two girls make at you, it needs to go in the spare room in our apartment.” Yoongi tosses the van keys at Jungkook, who catches them with ease.

“Aye, aye, captain!” Jungkook exclaims with a grin, opening the driver’s side door as Jin climbs into the passenger side.

Yoongi gives a small wave at his two friends as he turns to walk to the subway station nearest The Dynasty, the bar they had just played at. He didn’t mind that he was by himself, it would give him the time he needed to decompress after the show. He appreciated the attention that the band and their music got (after all, he had a hand in writing most of the songs), but he absolutely hated the attention of the crowd on himself. Jin and Jungkook ate it up-they were literally about to go meet two strangers from the show to eat and hang out. That could never be him. Yoongi stuck with the familiar. The familiar was safe. And Olivia was familiar.

He smiled softly to himself at the thought of Olivia...he had known her since college, where they had met when they were both dragged to a party they didn’t want to be at. They had bonded over their shared distaste for large gatherings of loud, drunk people, but their love for their friends that reveled in it.

Reminiscing had taken Yoongi all the way down to the subway platform, where he met the red line just as it was pulling in...a bit of good luck for once, he thought. He climbed on and found a seat off to the side where no one else was, and collapsed into it. He must be more tired than he thought.

As the train pulled out of the station, he found himself looking out the window. The red line was a train that went above ground, so he was able to stare at more than just gray tunnels. As skyscrapers and streetlights came into view, his mind started to wander. Last March. A night similar to this one, exactly a year ago. He had just finished playing Gold Rush’s first show, when his whole life fell apart. Promises of a future, shattered alongside his heart. He can feel his eyes starting to prick with tears, which he hates. Yoongi looks around, simultaneously grateful that no one else is around to see that he’s upset, but at the same time, if there were more people around, maybe he never would have gotten lost in his memories in the first place.

Before he can start internally chastising himself too much, the train pulls into his stop. He uses his black t-shirt to wipe at his eyes in what he hopes is a nonchalant way, then leaves the train car and heads up a set of stairs back into the city.

He doesn’t have to walk far before he’s at Olivia’s apartment, knocking on her door. She flings the door open wide, a smile on her face and a bottle of champagne in her hand. “Yoongi!! You came! Come on in.”

Yoongi follows her into her apartment and plops himself down on her couch and closes his eyes momentarily, feeling some of his stress dissipate. “Happy Anniversary!!” Olivia exclaims. At this, he jolts up, eyes flying open. He can feel how wild he must look with the way Olivia stares at him. But how does she know about the anniversary? She doesn’t know anything about that, right?

“...w-what do you mean?” he manages to stammer out, trying to gain some of his composure.

“The anniversary of Gold Rush’s first show?...you’ve been officially playing together for a year now! I remember the first show like it was yesterday, you were so nervous you thought you were going to throw up. And then Jungkook actually threw up after the show because he drank too much...anyway, I’m so sorry I couldn’t come out tonight, I had a work thing I couldn’t miss.” Olivia looks truly disappointed, like she would have rather been sweating in a gross bar at the show.

Yoongi breathes a sigh of relief. Of course, the anniversary of their first show. Why would it be anything else? “It’s okay, really,” he replies. “It worked out anyway, Jin and Jungkook met these two girls who came to the show, and they’re hanging out with them. Makes me feel less guilty when I’d rather be hanging out with you anyway.” He lets a small smile grace his features as he glances across the room at Olivia, but it disappears as his eyes fall on the champagne bottle that she’s placed on the living room table.

First world problems. Champagne problems, she’d called them. Not Olivia. Her. Yoongi can feel his eyes starting to swim with tears again, so quickly he doesn’t have time to hide the few that spill down his cheeks.

“...Yoongs? What’s wrong?” Olivia moves to sit beside him on the couch.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to compose himself again. “Nothing, it’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“Yoongs, the last time I saw you cry, it was in college when you found out that your aunt had passed away. So I’m gonna ask again...what’s wrong?” she reaches out and gently wipes his tears away with her thumb.

“Livvy…” he starts, unsure of exactly what to say.

“Just start at the beginning,” Olivia reassures him.

He sighs shakily. “Okay. Do you remember when I started dating Isabelle senior year?”

Olivia nods.

“Well, that’s the beginning.”

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

“...and everything was fine for a long time. Those first two years were everything. She was everything. Jin and Jungkook used to get so mad at me because I would bail out of band practice early all the time to go see her.” Yoongi hiccups as he continues talking. He’s stopped crying for the time being, but as he’d been telling the story, Olivia had opened the bottle of champagne and they had both been drinking straight from the bottle. Yoongi was a little tipsy, if he was being honest with himself...otherwise, he didn’t think he’d be able to get the entire story out of his mouth.

“Okay...so, everything was good. What happened?” Olivia looks over sideways at her best friend. They’d both thrown their heads back to look at the ceiling rather than look at each other to talk-Olivia knew Yoongi would never be able to fully share with them making eye contact. He looks over briefly, then back to the ceiling, brows furrowed.

“Well. I’m not sure exactly when things started to fall apart...I guess Isabelle started acting weird once she met my family. Jin and Jungkook didn’t care for her that much either, I never understood why. I know now they were just looking out for me. But in the moment, all I saw was her. She loved me, and I loved her. I wanted to marry her,” he breathes out softly, closing his eyes.

Olivia’s eyes widen. She and Yoongi had been friends when he dated Isabelle, but they hadn’t kept in close contact during that time. They were each trying to find their footing in the real world, moving into apartments, starting first jobs. Him entertaining the idea of marriage to anyone was news to her. She knew he was serious about his relationship to Isabelle, but not that serious.

Yoongi is still sitting with his eyes closed, face towards the ceiling. Try as he might, he can’t stop tears from falling for the third time that night. He hates how vulnerable he’s being, but maybe he can blame it on the champagne. Instead of wiping them away, Olivia watches the tears fall onto his t-shirt. Her heart feels like it’s being wrenched apart. Why did Yoongi never share any of this with her before? She should have been there for him. Did Jin and Jungkook know about all of this? Surely he’s told someone else. Slowly, she reaches out her hand and places it on top of Yoongi’s, squeezing gently.

At the sensation, he opens his eyes and looks over at Olivia. She always knows what to do or say. Or not say. He twists his palm upward to meet hers and intertwines their fingers together. It feels nice. He’s forgotten how pleasant human touch can be since he’s shut himself off from other people.

Olivia’s cheeks are dusted with pink, but she doesn’t pull her hand back. “Okay, so, you wanted to marry her. What stopped you?” She traces small circles with her thumb onto the back of Yoongi’s hand.

He leans forward and grabs the champagne bottle with his free hand, chugging quite a bit before he answers. “...she did.” he whispers, hardly loud enough to hear. “Last March, at our first show. You remember she came?” Olivia nods. She remembers, it had been one of the few times the two women had been in the same room.

“We went back to her apartment after the afterparty, once we all made sure Kook was fine after he got sick. I was planning on proposing in a much more planned out way, but I just remember looking at her once we got back to her place, and she was so beautiful. Even though she was sweaty from the show, even though we were both exhausted. I couldn’t help myself...I didn’t even have the ring with me, it was sitting at my apartment in my sock drawer. I just loved her so much.”

There’s a long pause. Olivia squeezes Yoongi’s hand again for reassurance. He continues to blankly stare at the ceiling at a loss for what to say next.

“Yoongs...c’mere.” He looks over at Olivia questioningly. She lets go of his hand and before he can protest the loss of contact, she gently places her hands on his shoulders, turning him and slowly lowering his head into her lap. He’s still staring at the ceiling, but also able to see Olivia. She begins to softly run her hands through his hair, tracing patterns onto his scalp every so often. Yoongi sighs contentedly and closes his eyes again.

“...I got down on one knee in her living room, and she stopped me. Before I could say one word. She just said, ‘Yoongi, I can’t.’ And that was it. She didn’t cry. She said she couldn’t do this, whatever this was. She said I deserved better than her. And then she asked me to leave. We never talked again.”

Suddenly he opens his eyes again. “I became a zombie after that...the only time I socialized with anyone was to go play shows, if that even counts. I was so rude for no reason to Kook and Jin, when they were just trying to help. I never even told them what happened. They didn’t know I proposed, they just thought we broke up.” Yoongi’s speech starts to speed up as the trainwreck he’s lived through for the past year plays in his head.

“I used to care so much...I closed myself off. I don’t think I feel emotions properly anymore. I can’t love anyone anymore. I haven’t told anyone about any of this until now, and it took a bottle of champagne to even do that, and you’re one of my best friends.” Yoongi sits up suddenly, motioning frantically at Olivia with his hands. He looks at her, holding eye contact for more than 10 seconds for the first time that night.

“...I think Isabelle broke me,” he breathes. Seeing the care emanating from Olivia’s gaze is what truly breaks him. He’s suddenly sobbing uncontrollably, shoulders heaving with the emotion that he’s held in for so long. Olivia pulls him into her embrace, where she simply holds him while he cries.

What he doesn’t see are the tears streaming down her face as well. She can’t believe that he’s held all of this in for this long, without telling anyone. That he felt like he couldn’t share this part of himself. She just wishes that he could understand how much she cares. How much she loves him. He deserves the world, not to feel this way.

After a few minutes, Yoongi leans back, wiping his eyes and trying to collect himself. It’s then that he notices the wet streaks running down Olivia’s cheeks.

“Livvy, what’s wrong?” he reaches up to gently wipe her cheeks with his thumbs. She inadvertently leans into the touch, sniffling softly. “Livvy...look at me.”

As she lifts her gaze to meet his, Yoongi is struck by how Olivia’s eyes seem to be glittering because of tears. How does she look so pretty even after crying? He’s sure he looks disgusting.

“What’s wrong?” he repeats.

“You deserve the world, Yoongi. I’m so sorry that Isabelle broke your heart, but she was right...you deserve so much better. More than anyone can give you, probably.” She says this while looking intently at her lap, fidgeting with the rings on her fingers.

At this statement, Yoongi stops. Memories of the past year run through his mind, each rapidly following the other. Who did he go to when Gold Rush lost their slot in Battle of the Bands? Olivia. Who did he vent to about Jin and Jungkook when they were fraying his last nerve? Olivia. Where did he go when he needed to destress? Olivia’s. Who made him feel safe? Olivia.

“...hey,” he whispers gently, taking Olivia’s hands in his. She looks up, tears still swimming in her eyes.

“Isabelle may have broken me...but I think someone’s been slowly putting me back together again without me even realizing it.” He smiles, intertwining their fingers and leaning his forehead against hers.

“...w-what?” Olivia stammers, barely loud enough to hear.

Yoongi laughs softly. “Livvy, I think...I think I’m in love with you, and I didn’t even know until right this minute.”

“Yoongs...I...I don’t…” she whispers. Yoongi gasps sharply, pulling away as fast as he can.

“Olivia...I’m so sorry. I misread everything, everything...forget this happened. I’ll leave, forget I said anything!” he scrambles to get off the couch as rapidly as humanly possible, cheeks flaming in embarrassment.

Before he can get far, he’s being pulled back down onto the couch. Making eye contact with Olivia for longer than 10 seconds for the second time tonight, he tries to form an intelligible sentence with his brain. Before anything can come out of his mouth, Olivia’s lips come crashing down onto his.

Yoongi’s eyes widen impossibly, eyebrows raising to meet his bangs. As Olivia’s lips move against his, he stops thinking and sighs into the kiss almost imperceptibly. His hands move to her hips, pulling her as close as he can to himself...he never wants to let go if he can help it.

When the two break eventually break apart for air, Olivia chuckles. “What’s so funny?” Yoongi asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I was just trying to tell you that I didn’t know what to say, not that I didn’t like you...way to jump to conclusions,” she giggles.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. We solved that miscommunication luckily,” he smirks.

“We’re both idiots, aren’t we?” Olivia leans her head against Yoongi’s shoulder.

Yoongi peers down at her, smiling as he wraps an arm around her.

“Yeah, I think we’ve been hanging out with Jin for too long.”

[rjhpandapaws]

Technical Difficulties

Ch 2: A Change in Luck

Three and a half months in and Daniel was still baffled as to how he had not only managed to land the accounting internship at AME, but keep it given his luck when it came to computers. He was an accountant, he had an understanding of computers; sort of; they just hated him. AME was almost entirely paperless. So given the fact that the intern terminal almost always had problems when he used it and the coffee machine in the break room had decided he was the devil; he was a little surprised he that he had been brought on as well. It wasn’t just computers if he was honest, he just wasn’t very technologically inclined. His phone was an older model, but he understood how it worked for the most part, and it hadn’t crashed yet so he hadn’t bought a new one. The issue was, that as an accountant there was an unspoken expectation that he understood computers. He didn’t. He could use the internet and more or less guess his way around a basic accounting program, but he had gone into this for the math. Given that AME was a science and technologies company, and Silas wrote all of their programs, the accounting software was not anything close to basic. Daniel felt like he was on the verge of drowning.

He honestly thought he was going to be let go within his first week after what happened with the coffee machine. Richard had said that Silas would be up to fix it when he had the time, and then recommended a cafe close to the office. He had treated it like something that happened every day. Silas had been thoroughly entertained. When the terminal had crashed on his shift the first time, he had thought that would be it. He was definitely done for this time. Richard had explained that three different people used the terminal and it was bound to happen eventually. Daniel had just been unlucky. Silas was up within the hour to fix the issue. He had been annoyed, more at the interruption than at Daniel it seemed. In the coming weeks he became familiar with the head of the IT department. He would email or call down whenever there was an issue that he couldn’t solve on his own. Silas would either walk him through it if it was an easy fix, or come up to fix it if it was a bigger issue. He always seemed a little frustrated, and Daniel always felt guilty even though he knew Silas wasn’t necessarily upset with him.

This was it, today was the day he would finally lose his internship. All he had done was log into the terminal then the screen went blue and it made a digital screech that was nearly painful. He might not have been the greatest when it came to computers, or even good really, but they knew they weren’t supposed to make that kind of noise. He had barely clocked in and it was already time to call Silas. He picked up his phone and dialed the extension for the labs since that’s where he normally was in the morning. He hoped that he wouldn’t wake him this time, Silas didn’t take too kindly to that. “You got Silas.” Came through after two or maybe three rings. “It’s Daniel.” He replied meekly and a quiet but sharp sigh came from the other end of the call. He flinched but continued, “The intern terminal blue screened and it’s making a god awful noise that I can’t get to stop.” Daniel heard something get set down, “I’ll be up in a few Daniel.” Silas hung up and Daniel looked back at the computer. He didn’t want to make things any worse so he made his way to the elevators. Maybe if he put some distance between himself and it the thing might decide to behave. He knew that wasn’t how computers worked, but he could hope. It was probably his last day here anyway, it wasn’t like things could get any worse.

Should he have stayed at the desk? Gotten his things together maybe? There was no way he was going to be keeping the internship after this. Richard had been understanding so far, but even he had to have his limits. Speaking of limits, Silas was probably at his when it came to Daniel. The elevator chimed and brought him out of his head. Silas stepped out of the elevator pushing a cart in front of him. When he saw Daniel he gave a friendly smile. He was definitely getting terminated. “Hey Daniel.” He greeted lightly, “Wanna take me to the problem child? I’ll see if I can fix it up here without having to take it apart, then you’ll be good to go. No worries, okay?” He was definitely all worries at the moment, but he found himself agreeing anyway. “Alright.” He said and tried his best to keep those same worries out of his voice, “I know I break things pretty badly a lot of the time, so I’m sorry about that.” “I don’t think this one is your fault.” Silas said as he walked with Daniel back to the bullpen, “You aren’t the only one that uses that terminal. You were just unlucky today. Just like with the coffee machine.” Daniel let out an embarrassed laugh. That had been one of his worst first impressions yet, “Oh god, don’t remind me.”

“We had a good laugh about it though.” Silas said and Daniel could hear the smile in his voice. When they got back to what was his desk in the morning there was white writing on the deep blue screen. That had not been there when he had left and he had no idea what it meant. He was relatively sure that it wasn’t anything good though. He was definitely going to lose this internship before the day was out. He was certain of that now. It had been good while it lasted, but it was time to concede that a tech company was not the place for him. “The writing wasn’t there when I left.” Daniel was on the verge of panicking again, “That’s pretty bad isn’t it?” He heard Silas sigh. It was that same annoyed sharp sound from the phone and Daniel withered a little. He was done for, “Yeah. I’m going to have to take it apart and see what the issue is.” He moved to start disconnecting the terminal from the monitor and the wall, “”It’s gonna take me a few days probably. Is there anything you can do here while the computer is down?” Get fired, he thought bitterly. “Paperwork I suppose.” He said as he moved out of Silas’s way, “I’d have to see if there is anything backed up. If not there won’t be anything for the interns to do.”

“How would you like to learn about computers?” Silas asked once he finished situating the computer on the cart and stood, “If Richard says it’s okay of course.” “That sounds interesting.” Daniel liked the idea, but he was wary. It wasn’t like this could make him any worse with computers, “Maybe I won’t have as many issues with them then.” That was of course operating under the assumption that he hadn’t lost the internship. “Just talk to Richard.” He said as he pulled the cart away from the desk. “Then if you’re able to, come down to floor six. I might have this taken apart by then, so I’ll see you in a bit.” Daniel nodded absently. Talking to Richard was the thing that he was dreading the most. His luck, if it could be called that, with him had to be running out by now. He had unintentionally messed so many things up by now that he had to be on thin ice. People were only so forgiving. This was a big company and there was no doubt that they could find someone better. He was still confused as to why Richard had picked him at all. He took a deep breath to find something that could pass as collected if he tried hard enough, and made his way to Richard’s office. This was the moment of truth. He would either be packing his things or going down to see Silas.

He hesitated outside of the door. Was he was ready for this? Richard was overly rational to the point of being a little too blunt. Did he want to face that on top of the possibility of losing his internship? When it came down to it, did he really have a choice? He made a last ditch effort to compose himself and then knocked. “Come in.” Richard said after a moment. Daniel opened the door and stepped inside, there was nothing else he could do. He closed it quietly behind him. Richard looked up and several things passed through his eyes though his expression was still carefully neutral. The concern that came to rest in his eyes didn’t do anything to help his anxiety. If anything, see it so blatantly made things worse. “Daniel is everything okay?” Richard asked as he set aside what he was working on. He leaned back against the office door and then the floodgates opened. “I didn’t mean to. I logged in then it went blue - and - and it started screaming.” Daniel was distantly aware that he was in tears and that it wasn’t professional to cry in front of your boss. He liked this place though and he wasn’t ready to lose the internship, “I called Silas and he said he could probably fix it. I don’t know what I did to it, but please don’t fire me.” “Hey, breathe.” Richard said with a gentle sternness to his voice, “Computers break all of the time. It’s nothing to get fired over Daniel.”

Daniel nodded and scrambled to get himself together, “I’ve just - it’s - everything I touch here seems to break.” “That’s how technology is sometimes.” Richard replied in that same tone, it was comforting, “It breaks. That computer was giving us trouble for a while even before you were brought on. It would be unfair to fire you just because you happened to be the one who was logged in when it decided to finally quit.” Daniel nodded and wiped his eyes with the sleeves of his sweater. It was a bad habit that he still carried with him from when he was a kid, “Is there anything I can do until it’s back up?” “The paperwork is all caught up. Echo finished the last of it yesterday.” He said, “So the day is yours. If you want to head home and decompress I don’t blame you.” Richard leaned onto his desk, “You’re good at what you do Daniel. So don’t worry, alright?” “Right.” Daniel agreed, “Okay. I’m sorry about... this.” “You’re alright Daniel. Take tomorrow as well since there’s nothing to do until the computer is back up.” His panic came back almost full force at that, “I’ll let the other interns know too. Maybe you guys could do something together.”  Daniel flinched internally at that idea, “Maybe.”

He stopped on his way to the elevators to clock out. He should have been relieved; but what he was feeling in the wake of his panic attack was the emotional equivalent of tv static. Learning what was wrong with the computer would help him to feel less guilty. He just wasn’t sure he was ready to spend who knows how long around another person. It would be rude to leave him hanging though, so with a deep breath he hit the call button. He was blissfully alone on his ride down to the sixth floor. Daniel hadn’t really interacted with his coworkers, even the ones in his department, so he was glad for the empty elevator. His luck had made him rather familiar with the IT department. Namely Silas and Josh; he didn’t know who the two lab techs were and the thought of meeting one or both of them made his stomach turn unpleasantly. Maybe spending the rest of the day in the lab wasn’t the best Idea. Daniel shook that thought away as the elevator doors opened. He was met with the sudden sound of loud techno metal music. Something he hadn’t been ready for, but wasn’t all that surprised to learn that Silas listened to. He was leaned against a table with what Daniel assumed were computer parts scattered over it and he was bobbing his head to the music as he looked over something on the tablet he was holding.

Silas looked like he was about to jump out of his skin when Daniel approached. “Holy fuck.” He breathed, then continued once he had collected himself, “I was busy. I didn’t hear you come in, sorry about that.” “Sorry for scaring you.” He replied as he looked over the table. The sudden silence was almost jarring when Silas finally paused the music, “What were you working on?” “Product specs.” Silas replied, and he looked excited if Daniel had to pick a word, “I can’t show you unfortunately because it’s got private information.” He had said it with a shrug but almost sounded disappointed, “I figured I could get more work done while I waited. Your department is all caught up?” Daniel gave a nod as he came to lean against the table beside Silas, “Yesterday’s intern apparently did the last of it. So I’m free until the computer is back to normal.” Silas glanced at the screen that was at the end of the table.  There was a loading progress bar on it, though Daniel had no idea what it was for. Silas seemed to understand it just fine though, “We’ve still got about a ten minute wait.” Daniel didn’t know how he gathered that from the progress bar, but he was impressed. Silas continued, “Is there anything you want to do to pass the time?”

“Talk, I guess. There isn’t much else for us to do.” He replied, “Do you enjoy doing all of this? It seems like a lot of work for just four people.” “It’s definitely a lot of work, but it’s worth it.” Silas said with a slight shrug, but the smile from before was back, “As far as liking it, that really depends on the day. The days I’m not able to get anything else done, not so much; but on the days I’m able to get more research done are pretty nice.” “So you don’t like IT work all that much?” He found himself asking, “Why do it then?” “Because I do actually like it, and I’m good at it.” He replied a little dryly, “It’s what got me through college. What about you, why accounting?” “I like working with numbers.” He started, “They are like little puzzles for me to solve, which is fun. It’s simple most days, but technology tends to give me trouble and that makes things difficult.” Silas gave him a friendly smile, “Let’s see about fixing that last part.” He said, “On the days you have time, I can teach you about computers. Then maybe you’ll have better luck with them.” Daniel liked that idea, after all, it wasn’t like his luck could get any worse when it came to computers, “Only if you have the time. You have a lot to do already.” “We can start with this little problem child.” Silas said as he moved to get to work, “You can even come over here to see what I’m working on if you would like.”

Daniel joined him on the fair side of the table. Silas spent hours explaining the parts and what they do to him. He watched Silas slowly slip into his element and Daniel found himself pulled in. He didn’t know what he had done to get Silas to thank him, but apparently rattling things off to Daniel had helped him solve the problem. He even explained the process to Daniel as he fixed it. He asked questions and Silas answered them. Talking to Silas was easy and Daniel found himself hoping they could do this more often. He sat down and rested his head on his arms, content to listen to him for the rest of the night.

[faofinn]

Breathe In Breathe Out/ Panic! At The Disco/ I Think I Need a Dr - Whumptober Days 13/18/29

Little bit different this time, combined three prompts into a little ficlet. Enjoy!  

Fao got news of a vehicle being hit. Somehow they’d managed to find a weak spot in the armour and it was a mess. The medics first on scene wanted him there, so that’s where he went. They retrieved their casualties and started to make their way back to base, Fao doing the best he could to suture and stabilise in the back of a chinook. It was loud and unstable but he had a job to do and he’d damn well do it. 

But the resistant forces had somehow gotten their hands on something they shouldn't have. They found that one out the hard way. After the most almighty crash and the screaming of warping metal, the big helicopter pitched and went down. Fao and his crew shared a look. They knew they were as good as dead as they collided with the heat-baked earth.

The mayday call went out as soon as they were hit, detailing their location and the crew on board. Nobody held much hope, they all knew it was bad. 

Fao was thrown clear as they hit the ground, the force knocking him out but keeping him far enough away from the burning metal to keep him alive, for now. 

It was a mess when the second Chinook arrived, and all too silent. The metal was twisted and on fire, and there was no chance of any survivors there. They did a sweep around it, aware of the risks and just hoping for a miracle.

The blood and sand in Fao's mouth choked him, and he struggled to breathe, clawing at the ground and trying desperately to get some air. He coughed and retched and groaned, the smell of burning metal and fuel filling his nose. It was hot, too hot, and when he tried to open his eyes it was too bright, too. He was going to die, out here alone in the burning sun. That he knew for sure. The sand was going to choke him and he was going to die. 

“Wolfie? Wolfie!” Harrison dropped his kit next to him, relief at finding someone alive, and almost crying because it was Fao. “We've got you, mate.”

The voice was distant, distorted by the ringing in his ears, but Fao was vaguely aware of someone beside him. He still gasped for breath, and he panickedly reached out for them, trying to work out if they were real or not. 

“I'm here, don’t worry. Where’s hurting?”

Where? Everywhere? Fao didn't know. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think. It was too hot, too bright.

“It’s alright, yeah? Try relax, we’re gonna help.” He started to cut at Fao’s clothes, pushing Fao's hands off.

Fao tried to breathe, tried to relax. What if he died? What about Finn and their parents, what would they do. Suddenly it was too real and terrifying and all he wanted was Sheila with him, holding his hand. 

“Wolfie, come on. Look at me, mate.”

Fao forced his eyes open. They blurred with the sand and the sun and he could barely see, but he tried his best. He managed with a groan, wishing they'd focus.

“That’s it. Well done, you’re doing great.” He glanced up at the rest of the crew, a sombre look on his face as they shook their heads. “We’re gonna get you boarded and back to base, okay? Keep going for me, okay?”

He groaned, coughing again. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, his chest tight, but he couldn't find the words. The pain was getting worse and worse, everywhere. He wasn't even sure if he could speak.

Despite the mask on him, Fao was still obviously struggling. Harrison hesitated, torn between moving first or decompressing, weighing them both up. 

“Fuck it. I’m doing it now. I’m not having him arrest because of this. Pass me the kit?”

His colleague quickly passed it over, careful and confident. “There. On your left.”

“Fao, I’m gonna stick a needle in your chest, okay? Help you breathe.”

Fao groaned again, trying and failing to speak. 

“Sorry, mate.” He pressed down Fao’s bare chest, the landmarks of bones no longer together. “Sharp scratch.”

He didn't even feel the needle. Even when it was in it didn't help, either. A few breaths were easier, maybe, but it was still tight. 

He already knew the answer as he asked. “Any better?” 

He tries for as much of a negative noise as he can make, struggling. It was like he was slowly being suffocated. 

“You’re doing so well, just keep going.” He gestured behind him. “Lets go.”

“Ready when you are.” Came the reply. 

“Ready, Wolfie? We’re gonna get you back.” They lifted him carefully, trying to move fast but not jostle him. “Just hold on.”

“‘ome.” He managed to get out, the word distorted. 

“Back to Finn, yeah? We’ll get you sorted here, and you’ll be on the first flight back.”

Fao hummed. The pain was worse, everything was worse, but Finn would make things better. They all would.

“Wolfie, keep your eyes open. I know you can’t talk, but you gotta stay with us.”

He tried, squinting against the bright sun. It was hard, he wanted to sleep. Wanted to forget it all. Maybe it was just a dream. 

“Come on, you’re doing really well. Think of Finn, yeah? Won’t be long. You'll be back with Sheila too, you know how she fusses.”

It's all too familiar, echoes of his rugby injury all those years ago. But he'd had Sheila then, holding his hand and telling him it would be okay. He wanted her so badly now, longed for her to tell him she warned him about being careful. But she was miles and miles away and he was alone. 

They were quick to load him, setting up fluids and pushing them. His blood pressure was horrendous at best, and Harrison's sure he’s bleeding from somewhere, but there’s nothing they can really do until surgery. He just needed to keep him alive until then.

"Come on, Fao. Just hold on. You're going to be fine, gonna be back to Sheila and Finn, going to be fine." Harrison fussed over him. "I'm not going to go anywhere, so you're sure as hell aren't either. I've got you, I'm gonna keep you safe, nothing bad is gonna happen, not on my watch."

Fao started slipping, his breathing getting shallower and shallower as he fought against the building pressure in his chest. He coughed to try and help but it just hurt, and he became more and more aware of the pain. His breathing became more and more irregular, far too long between each breath. 

“Fao, no, please. Come on.” Harrison started to bag him as they set up for sedation and intubation. “We’re gonna sedate you, take control and give you a rest, okay? Just hold on. I've got you.”

He fought it, struggling against the hands all over him, the mask too tight over his face, pressing into his jaw. It was pain, pain, pain. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe! If they put him out, he’d never wake up. The pressure in his chest got worse and worse, crushing him. They couldn’t sedate him, no. His good arm clawed at the people all over him, the monitoring, everything. He coughed, choking on the blood in his mouth again, retching again and again to no avail. This was it, this was how he died. Blood coating his tongue, the world unfocused and too bright. 

Harrison gave the nod to start the drugs, leaning into Fao's line of sight. "Fao, look at me."

He couldn’t. How could he? It was too much, he couldn’t breathe. Somewhere he recognised Harrison’s voice, but he struggled against it all, trying to grab onto something, anything.

“It’s alright, Fao, just relax. I’ve got you mate, promise. I’m gonna look after you, do my very best. We all know I’m only second best to you, yeah? You’ll be back in England before you know it.”

Fao grabbed at him, groaning. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t keep on like this. The pain was everywhere, distracting him, and get staying conscious was getting harder and harder. Pure fear was the only thing keeping him conscious, and he couldn’t even speak. 

"I know, I know." Harrison stared him in the eyes. "Wolfie, I promise you, I'm going to get you home. I'm going to do everything and I'm going to get you out of here. I need you to trust me. I know this is terrifying, but you need to slow your breathing down, relax, let us do the hard work for you. You'll be back in England before you know it."

He didn't really have a choice. Things were getting hazy, the oxygen mask pressed to his face making the pain worse and worse. His pelvis was agony too, all down his left leg, and numbness spreading where the pain didn't reach. His thoughts were a mess, and he struggled to slur out a help. 

But Harrison was there. Harrison would look after him, right? Tomcat. He was good. Surely he was safe. He wasn't sure if it was the pain or the meds but he began to slip, the blackness more and more inviting. His breathing stopped as he gave into it, the fight just gone. 

With Fao out, they all moved quickly. Every number they got from him was wrong, and it was only getting worse. His airway was secure as quickly as possible, but it wasn't exactly good. There wasn't any air entry for the most part of his lungs, and they’re not exactly left with much of a choice. Scalpel ready, they all agree to at least try a thoracotomy. It’s not like they could make it much worse, and they doubted he’d make it back to camp the way he was trending.

Seconds after knife to skin, his body finally gave up and he arrested, his numbers even worse and all the monitoring kicking off. 

“Shit! Fao, come on.” Harrison was on his chest immediately, feeling the mess of ribs under his hands and groaning. “How long?”

“Five minutes, they're waiting for us.”

“We’re not losing him. Not after Vixen. We can’t. I promised him.”

The others took a step back, ready to call it and leave it at that, but Harrison was having none of it. He grabbed tbe scalpel again.

"What are you doing?"

"What's it look like?" He hissed back. "I promised him."

"You did everything you could, Harrison. It's okay."

He shook his head and made the incision. They had to listen to him then, passing him equipment as he started the thoracotomy. He'd admit he wasn't the most proficient at them, but at the same time, Fao was dead. He really wasn't going to make it worse. 

Tension pneumothorax resolving, Harrison moved onto the heart. There was no obvious bleeding there, and still no output. He swallowed thickly. 

He took Fao's heart in his hands, willing it to start working as he squeezed it. Come on. Blood was pushed again, and Harrison could feel it soaking through his knees. He brushed it off, getting his colleague to clamp what they could and pack the rest.

He wasn't losing Fao. He couldn't. He was his best friend, more than that, really. At least, if they made it out.

They still couldn't shock him, but his lungs inflated more with each breath, everything slowly returning to where it should be. Clots were suctioned away, blood cleared from where it shouldn't.

This time, as they gave more blood, it didn't piss everywhere. 

"Thank fuck."

He continued his massage, praying to a god he didn't believe in, offering anything to get him out alive. Offering his life and limbs to get him back to the Daniels. They couldn't lose Fao. He couldn't lose Fao.

He felt it under his fingers, a sudden twitch, movement that hadn't been there before. With a frown, he continued. They weren't due a rhythm check just yet, and he wasn't going to prematurely stop. 

At the rhythm check, he breathed a sigh of relief. It was beating. He could feel the contraction under his fingers, the slow pulse of blood being pushed through. 

It wasn't much, but it was a pulse. It was Fao, and he was alive. 

The handover was quick and rushed, not much more to be said than already had been sent over. The crew hung around with him for a few minutes, trying to get him stabilised enough to get into theatre and survive it. 

Harrison took a step back from duty after that, the crew and his officers recognising he needed the time. Granted it, he paced outside of theatre, back and forth, back and forth, until someone snapped at him and told him to go get washed. It was only then that he realised how absolutely covered in blood he was, most of it Fao's, but a lot of it from the pack. They'd used more than normal, and Harrison had done more than he should, but none of that mattered.

Fao was alive.

[marvelslut16]

Closure

Pairing(s): Steve x reader, Steve x OC!Ana, Reader x OC!Mike

Synopsis: (Y/N) and Steve are paired up as partners for a year. The problem is she hates the golden boy. Quickly she learns that he isn’t as horrid as she once imagined and they become best friends. Will (Y/N) realize before it’s too late that she’s madly and deeply in love with one Steven Grant Rogers?

Word count: 5,100 whoops

Warnings: Some fluff, some angst. Swearing. Mentions of stitches, but now graphic descriptions of gore. A super clueless reader. Bucky is a bitch in this. Jealousy. 

A/n: I should have been writing my Stan Uris request (which I’m more than have done with) or my next chapter of can’t fight this feeling (it’s getting there you guys!) but I wrote this bad boy instead. I hope you guys enjoy it and are staying safe and healthy during these crazy times. 

Steve was never the man you planned to fall for. Hell, you hated the man for three years. You thought he was pretentious and full of himself when he snootily corrected you on a mistake only he noticed. Everyone praised him, said he was so fantastic; he could do no wrong, he’s America’s golden boy after all.

A few years had passed since the incident where he corrected you on an almost nonexistent mistake in the middle of a mission. You two were suddenly paired up by Fury to be partners on any future missions. Bucky was still recovering from all the pain Hydra caused so he couldn’t be Steve’s partner, but you had been hoping to get either Nat or Tony as yours. But life never works out how you want. 

Being partners also meant you two had to train together too, help you bond and become a stronger pair on missions. Blah blah blah. You had a sprained wrist from a mission you had just been on, it was supposed to be a simple in and out until the shield agent helping you made a mistake. The worst part is that you happen to be dating that shield agent, Mike can’t go thirty minutes without apologizing. The more he does it the more it gets on your nerves, so you always try to take hold of the conversation and steer it away from that topic. 

So as you're in the gym for your first training session, sitting on a bench board out of your mind watching America’s golden boy workout his already perfect body, you text Mike and complain about being stuck with the blonde soldier. Steve breaks the tense and awkward silence randomly, causing you to put your phone down for the first time since entering the gym. 

“Do you know how to work this thing?” his thumb is pointing over his shoulder at one of the many treadmills, he’s giving you a sheepish smile.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” you smile softly, quickly getting up and pressing the buttons, setting it up for him. “There ya go.”

“Thanks,” he lets out a sigh, running a hand through his slightly sweaty blonde locks. “I’m still new to all of this technology stuff.” You don’t respond, not verbally at least. You give him a warm smile and small nod, his grin seems to grow at your first real interaction. 

As your time with him in the gym becomes more frequent when you're healed, you notice that he doesn’t actually need your help setting up the machines. He even sets them up for you if he beats you to the gym that day. You realize that it was really just an icebreaker, this way it wouldn’t be as awkward and you would finally talk to him. It turns out he doesn’t even remember correcting you all those years ago, so maybe he isn’t as bad as you’ve always made him out to be. 

--

To nobody's surprise, but your own, you and Steve become fast friends. You didn’t think much of it, he’s your partner and you two are supposed to get along. So the friendship was a good thing, right? Steve soon became your confidant, the one you would seek out if the mission was hard or if you and Mike were in yet another fight. Besides that, Steve was just a great person who was fun to be with.

He was surprisingly political for a man that was frozen in ice for seventy years, so he’ll talk your ear off about what’s going on in the world. It’s not too surprising, you suppose, he was political propaganda and has an unwavering moral compass, so it’s to be expected. He keeps you educated and up to date, something that amuses your teammates when they see you guys hang out. You and Steve will have animated conversations about World War II, comparing the political climate and leaders back then to now over lunch. What really amused everyone was how quickly those serious conversations could flip and turn into pop culture talk. If one of you says a reference from a show in your conversation, it immediately switches to that show or ones like it.

You had introduced Steve to friends, and he had come running to you as soon as Ross and Rachel had their we were on a break fight. He was so distraught over the show, he wanted Ross and Rachel to just talk out their problems. You thought his reaction was adorable, and so did Nat who was quietly laughing to herself in a corner. 

There were days where you didn’t even have to talk, content with sitting in silence and filling out mission reports. Typically spent listening to songs from the forties, or you trying to get him into modern music. Everyone was shocked, especially Bucky who is now back from Wakanda good as new apparently, that you got Steve to get a cellphone. The super soldier frequently texts you with questions or to complain that he misses you if you’re too injured or sick to make it to training. 

--

Very rarely was Steve moody, one reason you were glad when you got him and not Tony, but when he was it was unbearable. He had gotten in a fight with Bucky and ignored you in training. No setting up the machine for you, even though he was already running on his treadmill when you got to the gym. No offering you water after a tough set, or apologizing if he thought he pinned you to the mat too hard, which he always did. 

“Stevie, what’s wrong?” you finally broke the silence.

“It’s nothing (Y/N)!” there’s a flash of anger towards you in his icy blue eyes. “I’m done training for the day.”

“But we still have another hour!” you holler at his toned back, white shirt clinging to the sweat, as he walks away from you. 

“I don’t really care, I don’t want to talk,” Steve doesn’t turn to face you. His voice drops so low he thinks you won’t hear him, but you do, “I don’t want to be around you right now.”

Your heart squeezes at his words. Was Mike right when he called you too much the other night? Were you so annoying that both your boyfriend and your best friend didn’t want to be around you?

Steve’s blue eyes softened as he apologized for his actions the next morning. He didn’t know you heard his last bit, but you weren’t gonna tell him you did. So you just dealt with the little bit of your self esteem chip away, but that was nothing new. 

--

You’re knocking on his door in the middle of the night, instantly regretting it when you see the dark bags under his sparkling blue eyes. His arm flexes as he rubs a hand over his face, gray sweatpants hang low on his waist, and his navy blue shirt is slightly twisted from tossing and turning.

“Sorry,” you sniffle and quickly apologize. You start to walk away but Steve’s thick fingers wrap around your wrist and pull you towards him. 

“What's wrong?” the sleep gone from his eyes, replaced with worry at the sight of your tear stained cheeks. 

“It’s nothing,” you sigh, running your hands through your hair. “It was stupid.”

“Is it nothing or is it stupid? ‘Cause it can’t be both Doll,” his voice is soft and inviting, it makes you start crying all over again.

“Mike and I got into such a bad fight,” you cry, he immediately pulls you into a hug and into his apartment. He ushers you over to a stool in the kitchen, grabbing you both a beer, claiming that you look like you could really use one. “He threatened to break up with me, he just kept saying that I have too much baggage from before. Telling me that I’m too annoying, too clingy, too much.”

The super soldier stayed up with you all night, letting you cry and vent about your relationship troubles. Again. He even took you out for breakfast when morning rolled around, you two laughing over what seemed like a gallon of coffee. While you had never woken him up before, you two had talked for hours if Mike had done something stupid or hurt you. 

Steve and Mike had been sort of friends before this, having worked with each other on missions before your partnership. But the words that Mike had been spewing at you hours earlier made it so that Steve could never look at him the same way again. Who could be that cruel to you on purpose?

--

The Avengers were going to a local hospital to surprise the sick children in the cancer ward. You’re paired up with Bucky much to your disappointment, everyone wanted Captain America and Black Widow together, they were well known. You don’t dislike the ex assassin, but he’s practically Steve’s brother which makes you infinitely more nervous around him. 

As you're waiting for the all clear from one of the oncologists you get a text from Tony with an updated schedule, one child was able to go home a day early so they were no longer there so a new room with a new kid was added. You briefly smile down at your lock screen, a picture of you and Steve making stupid faces in your uniforms- he even let you hold his shield. 

“Is that you and Steve?” Bucky’s long strands of hair hit the side of your face as he leans down to get a better look of the picture. 

“Uh- yeah,” you turn to look at his face, a small frown of confusion graces your features. His gaze goes from curious to a large frown, confusing you to no end. 

“Why did you guys take it?” he asks, crossing his thick arms across his chest, making sure to flex them.

“Uh, we had just gotten back from a long mission and we needed to decompress,” you smile fondly at the memory of the bleach blonde man making you laugh when you didn’t think you could even smile. He somehow managed to take your stress away, he always knew how to make it better; you’re convinced it was a power that came with the serum. “We were just goofing around and having fun, Steve suggested we take a picture to remember it.”

“You’re so annoying,” he rolls his eyes and shakes his head, brown locks creating a curtain around his face. Your jaw momentarily drops open in shock, but you quickly close it as the oncologist comes back to the two of you. You put on your well practiced mask, cheering up the kids was far more important than your measly little feelings.

For some unknown reason Bucky told Steve about the interaction. Steve immediately apologized the next day for Bucky’s actions, but it meant next to nothing coming from him and not the man with the vibranium arm. Steve just kept going on about how Bucky’s brain still wasn’t back to  hundred percent yet, but you knew Bucky had meant what he said.

--

“Are you sleeping with him?” Mike storms into your apartment that Tony gave you in Avengers tower, perks of the job. 

“What?” your eyebrows furrow, you aren’t a cheater. “Who?”

“Steve,” his name comes out of Mike’s mouth like it burned him, but you can see the sadness in his eyes. 

“Of course not!” anger starts to fuel you, how dare he make these accusations about you and your friend! 

“Sharon came up to me at work today and said she wouldn’t be surprised if you two were sleeping with each other behind my back!” he defends. Of course it was Sharon, you restrain yourself from aggressively rolling your eyes at the annoying woman's antics.

“Steve and I would never do that! And you know that. You also know that Sharon is obsessively in love with Steve and is most likely jealous of my friendship with him.” 

The conversation ended there that night, but you knew it wasn’t over yet. Mike left shortly after to go to his apartment twenty minutes away from the tower, and you were left to wonder why the hell Sharon would ever suggest a thing. Steve was just a friend! Right? 

The next day during training you were complaining to him about Sharon and Mike as you were punching one of the many bags filled with sand. Knuckles bruising and bleeding, but you don’t notice. Far too occupied with everyone sticking their noses where they don’t belong, just looking to start drama within the Avengers.

--

You and Mike had gotten into yet another fight about Steve a month later. This time you didn’t want to go to the man at the center of your problems, so you went to two of your friends Marie and Trisha. They’re both Shield agents that work with Mike, so they know the both of you enough to give you good advice. 

“He just keeps getting so mad at me for being friends with Steve!” you complain to the two girls, who roll their eyes at the words they’ve heard come from your mouth a thousand times before. 

“So break up with him,” Marie shrugs like it’s no big deal, checking her nails. 

“But I love him,” you blanch.

“Do you though?” Trisha asks with a judgmental eyebrow raised. 

“Of course I do! We’ve been together for two years, I see a future with him,” you furrow your brows at how rude they seem. “But do you think he’s right? Do you think Steve likes me?”

“Not even close!” Trisha laughs. “(Y/N), he would never go for someone like you, he could have any woman- or man- that he wants.”

“Dump Mike and forget Steve, they aren’t worth your time,” Marie looks up from her nails to give you an annoyed look.

So much for friends, huh. But Trisha was right about one thing, Steve would never go for someone like me. I’m not special, I’m not beautiful; I’m just annoying and I carry too much emotional baggage for anyone to deal with. You walked out of shield headquarters that day feeling worse than you did when you came, and no closer to solving this whole Steve Mike business. 

--

Steve was reading the briefing for your next mission when you entered the common room in the tower. You plopped down right next to him, swinging your legs over his lap and resting your head on his shoulder to read it too. He threw the arm that you’re leaning on across your shoulders to make it more comfortable for the two of you. You and Steve would sit like this all the time; during movies, reading up on missions, while talking about anything and everything. 

It made Mike uncomfortable, and maybe you were naive because you never understood why. Steve was your friend, and friends cuddle. Plus it was extremely comfortable and some days you just needed it. The first time you did it you did as a joke, trying to make Steve uncomfortable, it was a game you two play. But you both quickly found how much you both liked it and you do it without giving it a second thought now. Plus, it’s a nice added bonus when Sharon sees it and gets upset. 

--

Before you and Steve knew it a whole year of partnership passed, and Fury decided to change partners around. Steve obviously got Bucky and you got Nat. While she was your original first choice, now all you wanted was for Steve to have your six. There wouldn’t be anymore inside jokes, long talks, or silly photos to take. You would miss the way his nose crinkled when he would laugh at one of your stupid jokes, or how his face would scrunch up and the tip of his tongue would peak out from between his lips when would sketch you during your free time. 

If losing him as your partner weren’t enough, he was moving out of the tower. He found a cute little brownstone to move into, him and Bucky were going to be roommates. You believed Steve when he told you he would come visit you all the time, but it was just an empty promise. You felt like you were losing a piece of your heart and soul. Steve had become your best friend and you weren’t sure when you would be able to see him again. He left the tower one night, never telling you goodbye first. 

If anything good came out of Steve’s move, it was that you and Mike weren’t as rocky as you once were. You were crushed that you didn’t have Steve by your side anymore, but you would never tell Mike that. He’d never understand how you missed the super soldier as a friend. He and I would still text occasionally, or talk briefly if we ran into each other in the halls, but it was never the same. And it never would be.

The next time you saw Sharon she was smug, as if she were gloating because you weren’t close to him anymore either. But that all changed when Steve entered the tower with a shorter woman with long black hair on his arm named Ana. She was a nurse for shield, apparently they had met when she insisted he get a cut stitched after a bad mission, even if he would be healed within a few hours. You used to make Steve get checked out after every mission, made sure he took care of himself, but you were useless now. 

“She’s cheated on every guy she’s been with,” Sharon whispered to you as Ana swung her own legs over Steve’s lap and curled into his side. The smile on his face was so wide and loving, it was honestly revolting. Nat, Tony, and Sam all turned to watch your face at the interaction, you masked any possible emotion. But Tony saw the hurt in your eyes, you had officially lost Steve. But he was never yours to lose. 

You pushed off Sharon’s words, why would she tell you the truth when she hated you so much. But when Trisha and Marie texted you out of nowhere freaking out about her being a cheater you knew it was the ugly truth. Steven Grant Rogers, the love of your life as you always jokingly called him, was going to get his pure heart broken by someone who would never love as much as he loved her. 

-- 

Mike caught you one night, when he came over to surprise you with dinner, looking at the drawings of you that Steve had done while swiping through the pictures you had taken with the blonde. Mike, seeing that you were grieving the loss of such an important friendship didn’t say anything about it. Instead you guys ate your food and talked about your future together. He kept repeating that he wanted to marry you one day soon. 

While the prospect of spending the rest of your life with Mike was exciting and inviting; it was a nice safe choice. You couldn’t help but wonder, would Steve go to your wedding? Would he be your man of honor like you two joked he would be? Or did he not care about you now that you weren’t partners anymore? Because your life would be gray without him in it. 

--

Tony threw his yearly charity gala. You were dressed in an ombre blue dress that made you feel like Cinderella. Mike had surprised you and paid for you to go all out and get your hair and nails done. What you didn’t know was that Mike was trying to spoil you so you would be happy again and maybe fix your crumbling relationship. While your relationship was fine, better even, when Steve had moved, it was falling apart now as you wallowed in self pity over the fact that you lost your best friend. 

You had begged Mike for hours to go dance with you, but he wouldn’t. He just told you he didn’t want to and sat at your table sipping his drink. Steve and Ana were spinning around the dance floor, they looked so happy it hurt. You couldn’t help but stare, that could have been you. What did you have to sell to get Mike to seem like he cared about you and to dance with you? A kidney? An arm or a leg? Your soul? Because you would do it. 

Nat and Wanda saw how depressed you looked, so they pulled you onto the floor with them. And for a few minutes everything felt right in the world, you were finally happy. But that ended as soon as it began when Ana bumped into you while she was dancing, you would have fallen if it weren’t for Wanda and her powers. She giggled out a fake sorry before pulling Steve in the opposite direction.

When you sat back down next to Mike again you couldn’t tear your eyes off of Steve. Who had he become? He was so enraptured by Ana that he didn’t even try to talk to you like he always did at big events like this. What you didn’t know was that while you were holding back tears Mike was trying to talk himself into breaking up with you. He knew you weren’t happy anymore, that you would much rather be with Steve. Even if you didn’t know that yet. 

--

After a long talk with Fury it was decided that it would be better for everyone if you went back to being a normal shield agent instead of a part of the Avengers. While it stung a little and felt like a downgrade, it was what you wanted as well. To make things even better, you were now paired up with Sharon. Your long hours together proved she wasn’t as horrible as you once thought, but she was definitely not your favorite person. 

Mike started working in a new sector where he was partnered up with a new agent named Jana. He spent more time with her than with, you so you started hanging out with Trisha and Marie regularly again. The two girls tried to get you to shit talk Ana with them, but you wouldn’t. Steve was happy and that’s all that mattered to you. 

Mike broke up with you. He sent you a text at three in the morning telling you it wasn’t working. You wholeheartedly agreed, nothing felt right anymore, but you would have preferred the break up in person. That was the decent thing to do.he started dating Jana, and you were happy for him too. Just like Steve, you wanted him happy.

--

Months passed after the break up and you were still friends with Mike. He was your partner and your friend before the relationship, so you were sure as hell going to be his friend after the end of your three year relationship. Your break up wasn’t a secret, it seemed like everyone at shield knew the details of it. 

Mike, Jana, Maria Hill, and you were all eating lunch together when a familiar blonde haired blue eyed man walked through the cafeteria. Your heart started to pound, you hadn’t talked to Steve in almost a year and hadn’t seen him in even longer. Mike gave your arm a quick squeeze as Maria was getting ready to go talk to him. But Ana locked eyes with you as soon as Steve waved at you, and pulled him away from you. Mike pulled you into his side and Jana gently rubbed your hand that was sitting on the tabletop. 

Maria runs away from you and Sharon and up to talk to Steve when she sees him in the hall later that day. You and Sharon share an unsure glance before following Fury's right hand woman. Steve has a long talk with Maria about an upcoming mission she is accompanying him and Bucky on. He even talks with Sharon about a new technique Nat taught her when the redhead visited a few weeks prior.

“Hey Rogers,” you give him a small smile when his eyes finally land on you.

He opens his mouth, ready to speak to you for the first time in ages. But before he could get any words out Ana let out an annoyed sound, sent Steve a look, and stormed off. Steve gave you an apologetic smile before running after his girlfriend.

Your mouth opens as you let out what would have a mix between a sob and a scoff if it hadn’t come out silent. It felt like something was wrapping around your heart, giving it a painful squeeze. That feeling snaked up and constricted your throat, momentarily causing you to forget to breathe. Maria is looking at you with soft confused eyes while Sharon is glaring at Steve’s back as he runs after Ana. 

Ironically, you ran crying to Mike. It was a sick twist of fate, after a year of running to Steve when things went wrong with Mike, he was now the one helping you when it came to the hurt America’s golden boy caused. He took you out for dinner that night and spent hours comforting you. Because after all this time you finally realized it. You’re in love with Steve, you have been for years. But now you’ve lost him for good. 

-- 

“Are Steve and Ana still together?” Wanda asks when you visit her and Nat at the tower. 

“I think, why?” you glance between the two redheads confused why they would be asking you this and not Steve.

“Well her and this other shield agent came with us on a mission,” Nat admits. “And the entire quinjet ride she was hanging all over him.”

“We had to spend the night there,” Wanda says slowly, like the next words out of her mouth could change everything. And they do. “I caught her sneaking into his room.”

The world around you seems to slow and your fragile heart seems to crack even more. You knew it. You knew that bitch would hurt your Stevie. 

After leaving the tower for the night you immediately message both Marie and Trisha because they were right. At the office the next day you join in on the shit talking for the first time. Nobody hurts your Stevie. 

--

Tony invited you to the charity gala again, he kept whining that he missed your annoying ass. So you're put on a gorgeous deep red dress with a slightly bedazzled bodice. You're at the bar with Tony, Nat, and Wanda when Sharon comes running over; her dress, Trisha, and Marie trailing behind her. 

“Is Steve still with Ana?” Sharon asks, slightly out of breath.

“Why do people keep asking me this?” not only are you confused, but you're angry that it keeps coming up. “How am I supposed to know? Steve and I don’t talk anymore.”

“Ana came with the guy who’s room she snuck into,” Marie eyes you nervously as she speaks. 

“That's her ex,” Jana adds as her and Mike join the group forming at the bar. 

“Check their socials!” Trisha hollers unhelpfully. But you do anyway, and what you see breaks your heart.

You check Ana first, but after typing her name into the search bar nothing comes up. Mike quickly looks her up and shows that she still pops up on his phone, she obviously blocked you. Ana and Steve were still her profile picture, but you weren’t satisfied with that.

Your fingers fly as you type in Steve’s name. He pops up, but you suddenly aren’t friends with him anymore and the option to send a friend request isn’t there. Your cracked heart shatters. Everyone around you seems to fade and all you hear is white noise, you never meant anything to him. You don’t realize you're crying until your tears hit the picture of him and Ana laughing which is his new profile picture. 

Tony makes you another rum and coke, which you chug. Screw Ana. Screw Steve Rogers. And fuck feelings. You spend the night dancing with Nat and Wanda when they aren’t with Clint and Vision. Mike, who refused to dance with you a year ago, even took you for a spin around the dance floor. 

--

You eventually cut Trisha and Marie out of your life, they were nothing but trouble. They were bad influences, trying to get you to be a meaner person than you were. And it worked for a while, you had let them manipulate your hurt into anger since that was an easier emotion to process. Shortly after the gala you got transferred to a shield base in Sokovia, Wanda and Pietro excitedly showed you around their home. Sharon texted you a year after you left that Steve had apparently broken up with Ana.

It has been almost three years since the day of that gala and about two since Steve and Ana had broken up. Mike is still your best friend, he’s planning on proposing to Jana soon. He’ll occasionally see Steve and tell you how he is. Recently you decided to look him up on Facebook again to see how he was doing; he looks good, happy. You had the option to send him a friend request again, so you did. And within ten minutes he said yes. 

It has been about a month since that happened, you haven’t messaged him and he hasn’t messaged you. You’ll react to some of the old photos from the forties that he’ll post, or the memes he posts about Stranger Things, another show you had gotten him into. Facebook friends doesn’t seem like too much, but for you when it comes to Steve it means the world. 

While you don’t have that connection you had with Steve once, him accepting is like he’s accepting your apology for how poorly you acted when it came to Ana. You finally got your closure. 

And with that you put down your pen and close your composition notebook. The one you're shield appointed therapist, you had to talk to her for your yearly eval, had suggested. She thought it might make you feel better to have all of the words written down, all of the truths and emotions out in the open. You realized far too late how you really felt, and the notebook was the only way to fully process everything that had happened these past four years.

Forever tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny​

[hawkieloki23]

The Widow is Back

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, female black reader, Sharon Carter, John Walker, Scott Lang (BIG cameo) etc... Potential ships: Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes, Scott Lang x reader Plot: After the events of the Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Bucky and Sam are in need of some help after the flag-smashers are finished. Even though, Sam has now taken the mantle of something big, HYDRA is now bigger (thanks to US Agent and some other ones) and will not stop at anything. So, in an unexpected visit by the reader, they tell them about the scenario in hand and they team up. Warnings: Strong language, spoilers for TFATWS (all episodes - season one), racial abuse, angst. Author’s note: Do not read this unless you have seen all of the episodes of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. To be honest, I did cry, at least, twice in that final episode. I am very sensitive to this kind of stuff, so bare-with.

Chapter One

Delacroix, Louisiana.

The sea was infinite blue in infinite weather patterns. Fishing was Sam’s meditation. By sundown, or whenever he’d caught my fill, he had time to decompress, to come up for air, and fit for family life. Lungs of fresh air and the sounds of nature, all set in as much space as any heart could ever ask for - those were the Wilson's’ fishing days. The lighthouse stood as a great guardian of land and a friend to those navigating sea waves. The seagulls came with a flash of silver, the sparkle of my childhood dreams. How Sam loved those birds that swooped and created the melody of the shore along with the lace-topped waves.

Sam and his sister Sarah, as well as Bucky Barnes, was finishing the family boat with some help from the helping community.

Just then, they heard the sound of heels tapping against the wooden deck. Bucky looked behind him to see a young woman, just standing there. “Are you… Bucky?” She asked, crossing her arms and tossing her y/h/c ponytail behind her back. “Yes. And you are?” “The name’s Y/n. I am--.”

Just then, Sam suddenly came out of the engine room, wiping his hands from the grease.

“Y/n?” “Wait, how do you know her?” Bucky asked Sam. “She’s our other sister.” Sarah interjected.

“Adopted other sister.” She grumbled. “ Anyways, someone sent me to help you guys.” “And what can you bring to the table?” Bucky asked her.

Y/n raised her eyebrows.

“I can show you my taekwondo... if you want.” She said seriously. “Or... I can say that I share a hatred for John Walker.”

Both Sam and Bucky looked at each other. “How do you know about John Walker?” Sam doubted.

This was the first time he had seen his adopted sister since the Blip happened. A lot has happened during those 5 years.

Y/n sighed. “You’re not the only ones who saw that footage. I have a feeling that he has changed since then.” “What do you mean?” Bucky mumbled as Sam came to sit next to him. “I’m not completely sure about this… but I think he’s joined HYDRA. I was at the courtroom, undercover as a HYDRA agent. And Valentina AKA Madame HYDRA was there --” “Wait… Valentina Allegra is Madame HYDRA?” Sam stood up. “Yes. Valentina. And she was with Walker and his missus.” Y/n explained. She adjusted her leather jacket as she continued, “Anyways, he made a deal with her to change the world as we know it. And we need Cap for this. To take down HYDRA once and for all.”

Sam looked over at Bucky. “I was gonna ask why you know Valentina was Madame HYDRA, but I regret now asking that.” He mumbled to him. Bucky shook his head and he crossed his arms, his vibranium arm shining brightly in the sun.

“If you need Cap, then you need his partner too.” Bucky suddenly said, putting his hand on Sam’s shoulder. Sam was shocked at when he said ‘partner’, knowing he said that to him. He smiled softly as he looked at Bucky once more.

Y/n looked at Sarah and whispered, “Are they together?” Sarah just chuckled softly and replied, “They should be.”

Y/n started laughing out loud with Sarah and the ‘partners’ stared at them.

“What’s so funny?” Bucky condemned. “Nothing, Sergeant Barnes.” Sarah teased back.

Bucky sighed. “Who sent you anyways?” He asked Y/n with quite a deep voice. “None of your concern. But you need to come with me. She is awaiting your arrival, Captain America.”

Bucky and Sam was following Y/n through a deep dark tunnel. The tunnel was abandoned because we have renewable energies now, we can be kinder to our Earth. All that's down there is coldness and dank stale air. To be honest, an afternoon in the meadows would be  far more fun than this.Y/n did a special knock on the locked door. The sound of the knocking was the sound of a heartbeat, and so the door opened by itself.

“Hey. He is here. THE Captain America.” She called out to the darkness of the room. In that dark room there were shapes in monochrome, of course the daylight could bring brilliant fuchsia or deepest scarlet, but for now it could be a scene from a black and white movie.

“Thank you Y/s/n… wait, is it Steve? Or… Walker?” The voice from the darkness replied.

“How do they know about Steve?” Bucky whispered to Sam, to which his partner shrugged a response. Bucky had a gun in the back pocket of his jeans, just in case something goes wrong. He put his left arm on it for self-defence.

“Umm… It’s neither of them.” Y/n gulped, walking slowly and ever so closely to the unknown stranger. “What do you mean it’s neither of them?!” The stranger screeched at the group, to which Sam and Bucky covered their ears to the horrible sound, Y/n just jerked at the noise, flinching slightly. She had heard that screeching more than once. “You-you know Steve’s dead, right? And Walker is not Cap anymore?” Y/n mumbled. “Then who is it? I can’t see them anywhere.”

Y/n then cleared her throat and pointed towards Sam. “This is Captain America. Didn’t you read the news?” “A black man… is Captain America?” The stranger cursed at them, a bit of spit landed on Y/n, who then rubbed her cheek to get rid of it. The stranger then laughed at them hardly.

Bucky and Sam looked at each other, annoyed at what the stranger just said. At least they know that there are still people discriminating against black people in this society. ‘Are they serious?’ Sam thought to himself.

“Yes…” Y/n replied, quite serious and annoyed that her ‘leader’ just said that. “But that doesn’t mean anything. At least Walker is not Cap anymore.” The stranger came out of the shadows and Bucky quickly realised who is was.

“Yelena?”

[bourbonboredom]

A Reason To Believe Chapter 12

Being an undercover officer is a perilous job and Flip Zimmerman knows this far too well. He keeps his romantic life limited to one-night stands, never letting anyone get too close. That all starts to change when he meets a vivacious Jewish woman named Elle just as he’s about to take on a seriously dangerous undercover job; infiltrating the KKK. Elle and his undercover work make him question things he’d never thought to before and challenge him to see the world, and himself, in a whole new light.

A Flip x OC Fic

Word Count: 3,817

Warnings: slurs, violence

I see the bad moon a-rising

I see trouble on the way

I see earthquakes and lightnin'

I see bad times today

(x)

Flip had known David Duke was going to come to town, it’s not like this was a new surprise. He was given weeks to prepare, spent time with the organization getting everything in place. He should feel ready. But he didn’t.

Then the real Ron Stallworth was put on escort duty for Duke and he really didn’t feel ready for all this. What was the chief thinking? Not only was he putting a black officer in charge of the most prominent white supremacist in America, Ron was also the man that had been speaking on the phone with him for months.

The stress was starting to get to him. He was constantly working scenarios out in his head, every little situation that could go possibly wrong, and what he could do to fix it if it happened. In theory it was once day, just a few hours spent at a steakhouse. They would get through it one way or another. But he couldn’t help but feel this whole operation was about to be a disaster.

“Flip?” Elle’s voice called to him.

He blinked his eyes a few times and he came back to reality. He was sitting in Elle’s living room with her on the sofa, the two of them sharing Chinese food he’d brought over. It was the night before the big day.

“You spaced out there for a minute, everything okay?” She asked.

“Yeah, sorry. Just thinking about work,” He rubbed his face with his hand, trying to wake himself back up.

“You’ve been really stressed out lately, is that because of work too?”

“Yeah, it’s—” He stopped himself.

“Confidential, I know,” She finished his words. “But I’m still worried. How much longer do you think this case is?”

“Could be years, could be tomorrow. I really can’t say,” He sighed.

Part of him wanted this to be over. He was mentally exhausted from dealing with the klan day in and day out. But he know this was important, that they needed to be taken down. He just hoped it could be done smoothly. He suddenly felt her fingers intertwine with his.

“You’re going to get through this,” She assured him. “You’re gonna do what you need to do, and I’ll be by your side through it no matter how long it takes,”

He looked at her, taking in the resolution on her face. She believed in him, in his ability to see this through. This woman knew who he was undercover with, had even accidentally met some of the targets, and was still supportive of him. He had other girlfriends in the past tell him they supported him, but this time he felt like he could really believe it. He gave her hand a light squeeze and nodded at her.

“I’m going to get through this,”

_______

"You know something about that, don't you Flip?"

Blood rushed in his ears, for a second the world seemed to stop. Felix just called him by his name, his real name. He knew, how did he know? Is he about to be exposed to the entire organization without any backup? Ron wasn't in the room, he must have left for somewhere. Fuck this was about to be a worst case scenario.

He didn't remember the guy being introduced to him. Was it another undercover case? Army? Did he arrest him? Fuck, why can't he remember? His mouth was on autopilot, denying and covering the best he could.

Suddenly a waiter approached the table, stopping them all.

"Felix Kendrickson, you have a call,"

He stood up from the table, leaning over to Flip before he left.

"We'll talk about this later, Flip," He spat out before leaving.

The majority of the table hadn't noticed the interaction, but those who did took turns glancing in his direction. He pretended not to notice, not saying anything as he silently plotted his next step. Maybe he could leave now? Excuse himself before he's exposed? He took a sip of wine to calm his nerves. He wasn't going to abandon the case, he could talk his way out of this.

Felix came back into the room but didn't even acknowledge Flip. He gave a curt nod and Ivanhoe and the mystery man got up and followed him out without another word.

Something has to be going on. With all their talk to explosions and revolution, whatever they were up to it couldn't be good. He had to follow them.

"Why was he calling you flip?" Duke's voice came from his right side. That's right, he still had to keep his cover.

"We were in prison together, it was an old joke. I think he just violated his parole though," Prison, he put the guy in prison. He remembered now.

He got up and calmly walked out of the room. As soon as the door closed he took off into a sprint, trying to see where the men had gone off to. He was near the entrance when he heard a car engine start. He looked out a window to see Felix driving a car out of the lot and down the road. He followed the car at a distance, trying to keep from being seen.

He lost their car at a red light, the vehicle disappearing around a corner as a line of cars passes in front of him, preventing him from moving forward. Behind him were more cars so backing up isn't an option either. He brings a fist down on his steering wheel, grunting in frustration.

There was no police scanner in his car, just his gun under his seat and his badge hidden in his glove box. He couldn't listen to what was going on, or if Ron had made any calls in to the network. He was going to have to wing it.

As soon as the light turned green, he gunned it. A straggler from the recent red light almost T-boned him as he sped through the intersection, causing them both to swerve. He recovered as best he could and kept going despite the horns blaring behind him.

He weaved through the streets of Colorado Springs, looking for any sign of the car. There's a few false alarms, but once he sees the passengers his heart falls. They're nowhere to be found.

He thinks that he should maybe start to head back when he hears a thundering BOOM a few streets to the west. Immediately he steps on the gas and his tiles squeal as he peels toward the noise. That had to be them, the crazy motherfuckers. What the fuck did they do?

He follows the smoke billowing up into the sky. As he turns the last corner he sees the police are already on the scene. Someone is on their stomach on the ground with a gun pointed at them. Did they catch the perp already? If it's Felix and company shouldn't there be more on the ground. Then he saw the man's face. Ron.

"Hey, HEY," He screamed as he rushed out of his car. The officers turned to look at him. He'd grabbed his badge and gun from the car as he rushed toward them.

"Who the fuck are you?" One asked.

"I'm an undercover cop you idiot," He spat back, throwing his badge at him.

He made them get off Ron and free him from his cuffs. He looks around and evaluated the scene in front of him. It took him a moment but he saw that the fireball in front of him was coming from a red VW Bug, and an overturned vehicle next to it. The car Felix was driving. He heard a wail and saw Connie on the ground crying. He put two and two together and bit back a grimace before turning to the officers.

"We have one black officer on the whole force and you can't bother to know him? Shape the fuck up and arrest that woman!” He yelled.

The officers scrambled to arrest the right person and Ron sprung up and ran toward the house that was closest to the flames. He watched him help up two women, one re recognized as Ron's girlfriend from the Black Student Union, and bring them father away.

"Is everyone okay?" He asked, seeing that the girls looked a little dazed. No doubt they had been knocked over by the blast of that were that close.

“We're fine, I'm gonna take them to the hospital just in case," Ron told him, ushering the girls to his car.

"I'll stay behind to make sure fire and anyone else that comes sets this up properly. They'll probably take Connie to an emergency unit too so be careful," He leaned by the open window of Ron's car as he spoke.

"We will be, you stay safe too," He said as he turned on the engine.

"And if you see Elle, tell her I'm okay," He knew the words were simple, but she'd appreciate them.

Ron met his gaze and nodded.

"Will do, brother. I'll see you there," Flip stepped back and the car rolled off away from the fire.

He took a deep breath. He could hear the fire engine in the distance and the police sirens approaching. Connie was currently being loaded into the back of an ambulance on a stretcher accompanied by an officer. The VW Bug let off another spurt of flames.

This is not how he thought this day would go.

_______

He drove to the hospital about a half hour later, trying to decompress and process what he just witnessed. The sight of the burning car, the smell of kerosene and smoke, the wailing of Connie mixed with the screams of Ron and the officers. What a shit show.

He became aware of how tightly he was gripping the wheel when he heard a knuckle crack. He loosened his grip and took a breath. He knew he should go back to the organization now, the longer he stayed away the more likely he was to blow his cover. But he wanted to make sure his partner wasn't going to be put in handcuffs again. And they'd need a statement from him about what just happened, and to know not to release anything about his involvement as an officer.

He was thankful the three men were pronounced dead on the scene. They were vile human beings who were intent on killing innocent people sure, but he didn't want to imagine the agony of surviving that kind of explosion. And he was sure they would be a nightmare for the nurses. Connie was sure to be a handful on her own, the way she was screeching and flailing. He hoped Elle wouldn't have to deal with all this, maybe she was helping other patients.

He swung into a parking spot and rushed inside, barely stopping at the front desk to flash his badge and ask which way to head. The nurses must have already seen the rest of the patients come in because they looked grave.

He dashed down the left hallway, bursting through the double doors that lead to the small emergency center. He passed the empty waiting room to enter the patient area. The first room he passed held Ron and his friends. He skidded to a halt and caught his breath.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, entering the room.

"Yeah, I'm okay. They're okay. No damage on us, I think we're just here as more of a precaution," Ron explained. "How's the scene?"

"It's being handled. It's not pretty but at least it was contained and didn't harm anything else. You guys should be good to go home tonight, your house is fine,"

"Thanks," Patrice said from across the room. Her and her friend looked to be in no mood for talking, which he understood.

"Your girl was just in here, I told her you were okay," Ron offered, giving him a smile.

"Thanks. I told her I wasn't gonna get into trouble today so she probably had a heart attack with this many officers coming in at once. Where is she now?"

"She went down the hall to get the medicine for the nurses to work on Connie. She had some scrapes from resisting arrest but they can't get her to settle down enough to help her,"

"She seems to have quieted down now, maybe she—“ His sentence was cut off by a loud shriek and the sound of glass shattering.

He took one look at Ron and ran out of the room, looking for the source. He found it a few doors down the hallway. Connie was being tended to by five nurses, most of which were holding her down while she thrashed in the small hospital bed. An IV had been attached to her arm but it appears to have been ripped out and the glass container smashed on the floor with the liquid seeping across the tile.

"Ma'am, please cooperate, were just trying to help," He heard Elle say. She was by the nurse's cart, rifling to find something in the mess.

"I'm innocent, you can't do this to me!" Connie screamed in response.

The nurses tightened their hold. No one seemed to notice his presence yet. He feared entering the room in case Connie noticed him and she figured out who he really was. She hadn't noticed him at the scene, too busy staring at the charred Ford.

"Ma'am we cannot help you unless you calm down. You have several scrapes we need to tend to, we want to make sure they heal correctly," Elle continued with a even voice.

She spoke calmly and he could easily see how any patient would find it soothing. She was a sight in her uniform, looking professional and focused. She carefully drawing the contents of a small bottle into a syringe. She brought it eye level, inspecting it, squirting some out, before drawing closer to the distraught woman. Her shrieks had become quieter, becoming more of whimpers. She wasn't aware of the syringe approaching her.

"We'll need to disinfect the cuts and get them wrapped in gauze," She explained out loud to the other nurses, who nodded in affirmation.

She looked at the nurse across from her and nodded. That nurse began to talk to Connie, diverting her attention while Elle drew the needle closer. They were trying to inject her, probably with a sedative, in order to calm her down. The distraction seemed to work until Connie felt the pinch of the needle entering her arm. Her head jerked back, looking at her arm and then at Elle.

It was at that moment he noticed her necklace falling forward from under her uniform collar, the same moment Connie saw it as well. Elle seemed unaware, focused to keeping the woman calm as she finished the injection.

Suddenly, Connie broke the hold the nurse had on her right arm, lunging it over to grab at Elle's necklace. She yanked the chain down, her head jerking with it.

"You filthy Jew, what'd you put in me?" Connie gritted out, fist tightening around the chain as the nurse clambered to get ahold of her.

Elle's expression was steeled, jaw set. One hand was on the syringe, now removed from her arm, and the other was desperately trying to pry her fingers off her necklace.

"It was a sedative ma'am, the same one we tried to put in your IV before you broke it. We promise, it's for your own good. We aren't here to hurt you," She said in an even tone, expertly masking her anger.

"You don't get to tell me what's good for me you dirty kike!” Connie roared in response.

The nurses all wore the same expression of shock. Flip was sure they'd seen and heard worse, but such an open attack right in front of them must be jarring. It sure disturbed him. Elle took a deep breath before speaking again.

"Ma'am I need you to let go," She said evenly.

"I watched my husband die today. A good man. A pure man. He would have killed you if he knew you were putting poison in me," Connie's voice was full of malice, her grip tightening around the necklace to the point of drawing blood where the pendant came to a point.

Elle yelped, the metal chain digging into her skin before breaking and clinking to the ground. She stepped back, holding her hand to her neck to make she was okay. Her composure was broken, eyes filled with rage. In one swift motion she drew her arm back and rocked it forward with all her strength, her fist connecting with the woman's cheek.

Connie grunted and fell limp against the bed, knocked out cold. The room was dead silent. It was if time had stopped. Elle's chest heaved as she slowly came back to reality. She took one look at Connie and looked frantically at her fellow nurses.

"Is she—” She started to ask lowly.

"She's just knocked out, it was the sedatives, right?" One nurse responded, looking at the others. A chorus of affirmation followed.

"It was the drugs that knocked her out, poor thing has had a hard day," One said.

"I heard she fell on her head while being apprehended, hope she doesn't get a bruise," Another offered.

Elle's posture relaxed, her eyes growing glassy and her hands gaining a tremor. Flip decided it was time for him to enter.

"Eliana," He said softly, getting to her side with just a few quick strides. The nurses seemed caught off guard by his presence, eyeing the badge and gun on his person.

"She's not in trouble is she? She was just defending herself," A nurse asked, ready to step forward and come to her defense.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, I didn't see a thing," He said simply, pulling his girl into a hug.

"Flip?" She asked, not having the strength to look up at him.

"I'm here, come on, let's get you some air," He said quietly.

A nurse picked up Elle's necklace and held it out to Flip, who took it and nodded his silent thanks.

"Thank you ladies, my partner is down the hall if you need anything. I'm gonna make sure Elle is okay," He escorted Elle out of the room, his arm looped around her waist.

_______

There was a bench right outside of a maintenance door. He sat her down, moving right next to her, bringing her head to rest on his shoulder. She hadn't said a word as they walked down the quiet hallways. She just stared dead ahead, eyes focusing on nothing in particular.

"Talk to me," He murmured, tucking a stray curl back under her cap.

"I could lose my job," She whispered, voice thick from holding in emotion. "I just punched a patient in the face what the fuck what I thinking?"

"She physically attacked you and was screaming hate speech I think any sane person would consider that self defense," He reasoned with her.

"It doesn't matter, I lost my cool. She was in my care, it shouldn't matter. This could be a nightmare for the hospital if it gets out" She buried her face in her hand

"I don't think it's gonna. The nurses you were working with seem to have your back on this one. One of them looked ready to take me out too when I came into the room. And I doubt Connie will have any memory after getting clocked like that,"

Elle groaned in response, rubbing her face with her hands. She swiped under her eyes, trying to prevent any tears from falling while she was on shift.

"No matter what happens, you're going to be fine. You won't lose your job, they love you here and aren't going to fire you because you defended yourself against a crazed racist," He assured.

"I hope you're right," She sighed, bringing her hand up to her throat and feeling where the chain cut into her skin.

Suddenly, her hand stopped as she remembered her necklace had been broken off her. She started to stand when he dug into his pocket to bring it forth.

"It's here, don't worry. I'm sorry she broke it, I know how much it means to you,"

Elle sucked in a breath, new tears welling in her eyes. Her mouth was drawn tight, preventing any emotion from escaping as she gingerly touched the necklace laying in his palm. The pendant, which had survived a genocide, years of torture and pain and a trip to a new country was untouched. The silver star stood resolute against the pale flesh of his palm. It was the chain, which was weak from decades of wear, that has been broken.

"Mama won't be happy when I tell her about this," She noted. "I think I could get a new chain, this one looks beyond repair,"

She took the necklace from his hand, rubbing the pendant between her fingers before tucking it into her breast pocket.

"I think you're right," He said. She was coming out of shock and seemed to be reasoning with herself again, a good sign. "It's going to be okay sweetheart,"

"Ron told me what happened today. You're working with a bunch of lunatics,"

"Are we talking about the organization or the police?" He asked, realizing it could very well be either after today's events.

"I meant the org but both of them. It's meshugas, I don't know how you work with either of them," She gave a quick laugh of disbelief.

"Its been a trip," He didn't want to speak ill of his department, but after watching how his fellow officers handled things today, he wasn't happy. "I'll have to head back soon. My cover was almost blown today and I have my work cut out for me,"

"You're going back?" She removed her head from his shoulder and looked at him incredulously.

"The guys who blew my cover are the same ones getting their ashes scooped into body bags right now. I think I have a good shot of this working out," He then hurried to explain. "I wouldn't do it if I didn't think it was safe,"

She just stared at him for a moment, eyes searching for any doubt in him. He remained firm, he knew this was the right thing to do.

"You'd better come home in one piece Zimmerman," She warned. "Or else there's gonna be a lot more racists with black eyes today,"

"I promise you," He held out a hand to her. She took it and gave it a squeeze.

"Call me before you get to my place? So I can get some dinner started?"

"Of course," He reaffirmed.

"I guess I should get back too, I made kind of a mess in there. I should get to cleaning," She sighed, standing up from the bench and smoothing her dress out.

"You gonna be alright? I can take you home," He offered.

"No it's okay, I have to finish my shift. I'll be fine,"

"Okay, I'll see you tonight then. Tell Ron where I'm headed and that this is something I gotta do without a wire,"

"Ten four," she mock saluted him.

She started to head back toward the door when he caught her and brought her flush to his body. He pulled her into a kiss, cradling her face with his hands, silently communicating every emotion he’d been holding in that day. He swore he’d come home to her tonight, he’d put an end to this.

“I love you,” He whispered as he broke the kiss.

“I love you too,” She whispered back. “Be safe,”

He promised to do his best.

_______

Hi! I took a few week off to focus on activism and getting back to work in the middle of this g-d damn pandemic. Sorry for the delay, here’s the next chapter!

[blurglesmurfklaine]

Cornelia Street (3/?)

A/N: oh my god they were quarantined

yes. It’s one of those fics.

AU, obvs

I’m posting as I go and idk how many parts this is going to be, likely won’t be very long but I literally don’t know what I’m doing and should i be starting yet another WIP? definitely not but fuck it lets fucking go

Title is from T-swizzles Lover album, I’m OBSESSED

Summary: Three years ago, Kurt and Blaine went on a disaster of a date and never quite got off on the right foot. Now, just before they graduate from NYADA, there’s a national outbreak and they’re both self-quarantined in a mutual friend’s apartment.

Read On AO3

On Tumblr: Part 1, Part 2

Part 3

Kurt has the art of avoiding someone he’s sharing a confined space with down to an art. Blaine stays in the bedroom most of the time and the morning stiffness in Kurt’s joints from sleeping on the couch is well worth not having to interact with his roomie. He spends the first few days decompressing from the stressload of his schoolwork, social media, extra pampering, the usual.

This is enough to keep him entertained for a few days, but the first few hours of day four drag on like molasses. 

Kurt lies on the couch, flippantly scrolling and cycling through the same social media apps over and over again until he’s seen every tweet, every snapchat story, and every. Single. Facebook. Post.

This routine is fine when he has a full and busy life, but it can’t be all he does. He’s going stir crazy.

It’s this boredom, he tells himself, that motivates him to knock on the bedroom door. Because he’s a generally social person, and he’s certain that even the likes of Blaine Anderson could offer him some temporary entertainment.

“The living room TV doesn’t come with Netflix,” he explains when a confused Blaine opens the door. “And my social media feed is dry, so you can either let me in on whatever you’re watching, or you can deal with the consequences of not doing that. I should let you know, I have a brother, and I can be very annoying.”

Blaine hums, looking Kurt up and down. “I also have a brother who can be ridiculously annoying, so I suppose I can’t risk it.” He speaks carefully, but Kurt has a sneaking suspicion that Blaine’s just as out of his mind bored as he is and would appreciate the company. 

He opens the door wider to allow Kurt passage in the room. 

Blaine moves towards the bed, where he’s clearly made some sort of quarantine nest for himself—the blanket is puddled near the head of the bed where Blaine was lying, a few books scattered by where his feet would have been, a bowl of half eaten ramen abandoned on the nightstand. 

Kurt… doesn’t quite know what to do. He starts for the computer chair by the desk, but Blaine waves him away. “You can just sit next to me,” he says dismissively. “That’s Sam’s gaming chair, and it is just absolutely hell on your lower back. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”

He raises an eyebrow, crosses his arms. “Is that what I am to you?”

Blaine looks at him like he’s genuinely surprised by the remark. “What? I… No. Not at all.”

“Really?”

“Look, Kurt, I know we have a weird history and we don’t particularly get along, but I don’t hate you.”

Kurt eyes Blaine up and down for a second, assessing him for any signs of deceit. He finds none, pulls the cover back and slides underneath it. “What are you watching?”

“Let It Snow. It’s a Netflix Original. It just started, do you want me to rewind it?”

Kurt waves a hand. “No, that’s fine.”

On screen, two teens are trudging through the snow towards a building with AFFLE TOWN on top of it. 

“If the train made you feel real, Waffle Town is gonna blow your mind.”

In the movie, the cheerleader character kisses the other main red-headed girl in the bathroom, but acts like nothing happened when the rest of the squad comes in. 

“Oh, she’s totally not out of the closet yet.” Blaine murmurs. 

“What? But she said she was, at the beginning.”

“I mean, yeah, but there has to be some sort of twist.”

“Hm. Seems like you have this movie all figured out.”

“I mean, movies like this are supposed to be predictable on some level. Let’s be real, we watch these movies because no matter what happens, no matter what misunderstanding there is, you know everything’s going to be okay.” He looks at Kurt, and Kurt’s heart does not skip a beat. But objectively speaking, Blaine is ridiculously adorable, and maybe he has a teeny tiny reaction when Blaine says, “You know that the right people will end up with each other.”

About twenty more minutes in, all the different storylines have been introduced and Kurt realizes why this movie seems so familiar. “Oh my god,” he says. “This is totally just a teen version of Love, Actually.”

Blaine chuckles. “Oh my gosh, you’re right!”

They both laugh out loud at the end, when the crappy best friend realizes she’s been crappy and gives the red-head a little speech. 

“If you and Beyonce were trapped in a house that was on fire and I could only save one of you... I would let Beyonce die.”

The movie draws to a close and Blaine leans back against the pillows, obviously satisfied with the ending. “See? Happy endings rule. They’re a little cheesy, a little predictable, but that’s what I like about them.”

Kurt smiles and looks over at Blaine. “Yeah, me, too.”

*

When the movie ends, Blaine excuses himself for a moment to go grab a drink from the kitchen.

When he finishes his glass of water, Blaine heads to the hall closet, clamoring around for that stash of board games Sam keeps for game nights. He finally finds it and grins a bit, pulling out Battleship. This should keep them entertained for a while.

He stops dead in his tracks, just outside the room, when he hears Kurt in a heated conversation on the phone. “No, Adam. I meant it, this time. We’re over… I know there’s a national crisis right now, that’s why I’m at—don’t… stop… will you let me—! You always do this! Stop talking over me! Oh my god, if you’re not going to listen, then this conversation is over.”

Blaine silently backtracks a few steps when he hears Kurt sniff, then after a minute or two, starts walking again, making sure to slap his bare feet against the hardwood floor so that Kurt hears him coming and can take a second to compose himself. He rattles the battleship game for extra measure and says loudly down the hallway, “So I found this battleship game in the closet, thought it might be a good way to pass the time.”

Kurt still looks a little lost in thought by the time Blaine is back in the bedroom. “Uh, sure, yeah. Why not,” he mindlessly agrees.

It takes them a few minutes to set everything up and figure out logistics. As a gesture of goodwill, Blaine insists that they both sit on the bed for this activity. He still feels a little bad for… whatever Kurt is going through right now. 

They’re well into the game when Blaine decides to tug a little more on the thread that will unravel Kurt Hummel.

“J1,” Kurt grumbles.

“Miss,” Blaine responds. “So… I thought I might’ve heard you on the phone earlier,” he says, and Kurt’s hard gaze pierces through him. “Everything okay?”

“Why do you care?” Kurt snaps.

Blaine felt his own defenses rising up. “We are going to be stuck with each other for days on end, so excuse me for trying to be a decent person.”

Kurt de-bristles himself. “Sorry,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “Sorry… I um… my ex is trying to get me to go stay with him. But I know he’s just going to rope me into getting back together again and I just… I’m done. Sorry,” he repeats, lifting his knees and wrapping his arms around them. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this.”

“It’s okay,” Blaine says, mouth twitching. “We’ll chalk it up to social distancing. Speaking of, I know why I’m self-quarantined, why are you? If you don’t mind me asking. Why not go home like everyone else? B4.”

Kurt sighs. “Hit. My dad had a heart attack back in high school. Left him in a coma for a while. Then he had a cancer scare last year, so his immune system isn’t the strongest. I can’t risk taking anything back to him. J2.”

“I’m sorry to hear that… Hit.”

“Thanks. What about you?”

“C4. Kind of the same thing. My aunt has lived with us pretty much my entire life. She's pretty much my second mom. She’s diabetic, and a year ago she needed a kidney transplant. If she even gets so much as a cold, it could mess with her anti-rejection meds.”

He doesn’t get a response for a while and Blaine looks up to find Kurt staring at him. The other boy blinks, like he himself has just noticed his fixed gaze. 

“Um, hit…” he says, looking back down at his board. Blaine thinks he might see a hint of a blush crawling up Kurt’s neck. “J3.”

“Miss.”

“Miss? That’s impossible. J1 and I2 were misses.” Kurt snaps his head up, narrowing his eyes at Blaine, but there’s a playful light that wasn’t there earlier. “Are you cheating?”

“Maybe,” he teases, evading the question because it actually is a hit. In fact, it’s the winning move. “Maybe I just don’t want this game to be over so soon.”

For a moment, Blaine wonders if his comment was too close to flirtatious territory. But then he thinks, so what if it is? There was a reason he agreed to be set up with Kurt freshman year, and after half a conversation with him, Blaine is definitely intrigued, to say the least.

Kurt’s lips curl up into a smile. “Alright… I don’t want to go back to being bored either, so how about this? We each move one of the small pieces and the first one to get a hit wins.”

Blaine agrees, taking one of his small pieces off and moving it.

“I’ll start us off,” Kurt says. “You mentioned you had a brother. What about the rest of your family? A6.”

“Miss. I’ve only got the one, thank god, because he is a handful. My mom is a total goofball, gives the best advice. I love her to death. My dad is the essence of I hate everything except my family. He can be a total grump sometimes, but I know he’d do anything for us. G7. You?”

“Miss. I mentioned my dad. My mom passed away when I was eight.” Blaine’s eyes glaze over with sympathy. “She was… she was really something. I miss her everyday, but I’m also really grateful that my dad found someone as wonderful as my step-mom. They got married my Junior year of high school, and I got a brother out of it. He drives me up the wall sometimes, but I love the big lug.”

Kurt tells Blaine all about the ridiculousness of his high school show choir, his relationship with his dad, and the bullying he endured in high school. In turn, Blaine confesses some insecurities he has about being a musical theatre major, about how he absolutely adores his kooky aunt, and his love for harry potter.

The game takes longer to finish than it should since occasionally they get so deep into conversation that they forget about playing the game. Eventually, it’s nearly two am, and Kurt decides to call it quits.

“Alright,” he says. “I’m calling it. I’m never gonna fund that darn ship of yours.”

“You’re right about that,” Blaine agrees. Kurt had actually hit his piece about three turns in, but again… Blaine wasn’t ready to say goodnight yet.

Kurt snorts out a laugh and rises from the he’d, stretching his arms high over his head. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he groans.

Blaine has no idea what compels him to say this, but he does. “You don’t have to sleep in the living room.”

Kurt freezes and gives Blaine a look. 

“I just mean…” he swallows. “I’ve had the bed enough nights. Time to pay my dues. I can take the couch tonight.”

He hops off the bed before Kurt even has the chance to protest. 

“I… um, thanks,” he gives Blaine a shy smile. 

“I’ll see you in the morning, Kurt.” He returns the smile—more than just a nicety at this point—and turns around to head to the living room.

He can’t keep the dazed grin off his face when he pulls out his phone to text Sam.

Part 4

[darkshadow90]

His Obsession Chapter 12

A/N:Hey guys! Here’s the next chapter. This will be the first chapter that delves a little bit into Arthur post Arkham, and more what he would be like as the Joker. Hopefully it doesn’t stray too far from the brief glimpses we got from the movie. So here’s my idea: I’m thinking of writing Arthur with a multiple personality disorder. (Kind of) I think as Arthur slips into his Joker persona, he’s more likely to act on his negative impulses. He’s also more confident and would probably do things Arthur himself wouldn’t normally do. I think it makes him dangerous and unpredictable. He’ll do terrible things, and may or may not feel bad about them. I’d appreciate your feedback as I post more chapters.

“So, what’s the plan boss?” “I never did get your names.” “Well, I’m Barry.” He looked over to the other masked man. “And I’m Sid.” Arthur finished smoking his cigarette and nodded. “Alright, boys. Now that we’ve been introduced, let’s get everything squared away. I have a session with a therapist today. It’s a great opportunity to make a break for it. They usually give her a security card to get inside. While I’m busy with her, I need you to take care of the security cameras. I’ll keep the orderlies busy. Wait for me outside and have the car ready to drive off. We’re gonna need a place. My apartment is out of the question.” “We have an abandoned warehouse. We still have money from we stole from banks during the riots. We can use it to get things we need. Food, medical supplies, pretty much anything,” Sid said. “You’ve thought of nearly everything, haven’t you? Now, we can think of getting Ashe back. It’s only been about a week since I was put here, and if she wasn’t in my apartment when you got there, she won’t be going back anytime soon.” He looked over to the clock. “You’ve got an understanding of the plan, right?” They nodded and left the cell.

The therapist came in expecting a normal session. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t see what was coming. Arthur managed to grab her. He placed his cuffed hands around her neck and violently shoved her against the wall. She was unconscious. ‘At least she won’t suffer,’ he thought. He stomped on her head, repeatedly. He kept going until her skull cracked and blood seeped from it. He saw how brutal the act of violence was as she laid there covered in blood. He knelt down beside her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. It was so soft it barely came out. He took her security card and opened the door. He walked down the hallway, leaving a trail of bloody footprints behind him. When the orderlies saw him dancing, they chased after him to get him back in his cell. Arthur was reveling in the chaos. As he ran past one of them he quickly snatched the keys to the handcuffs from his pocket. Arthur put the keys in his pocket without either of the men noticing. He wished he could’ve played with them longer. He swiped the security card for the main entrance from one of the orderlies, and ran out the door.

Barry started the car as Arthur jumped in. He took the keys out of his pocket and removed the handcuffs. “Drop me off at the warehouse. I’m sure the cops got rid of the drugs I had. I can’t risk being seen at the hospital. Some people have seen me without clown makeup. They’ll recognize me, so you’re gonna have to steal some sedatives for me. I doubt most people would care if they found out I escaped from Arkham, but you can never be too sure. I wouldn’t want to upset the rich assholes that might be around.” “Sure, but what do you need them for?” Sid asked. “What do you think?” It occurred to Sid that he had asked a stupid question. “Oh, right.” “I know it’s only a matter of time before we find Ashe, and they’ll come in handy.” When they made it to the warehouse, Arthur was impressed. He didn’t expect it to look so decent on the inside. In one of the storage rooms he found a large bed, a vanity, and a red suit that looked exactly like the one he wore on Murray’s show, among other things. “I think this is gonna be just fine, boys. Now skedaddle. See if anyone knows anything about Ashe. Her full name is Ashlyn Taylor. I’m gonna get settled in here and get cleaned up.” They left. Arthur felt extremely confident. He knew he would eventually find Ashe. He wasn’t concerned about what she would think if she saw him. ‘She understands why I did all those things. She wasn’t trying to run away from me. She wasn’t afraid of me, she was upset that I killed Randall in front of her. I’ll get her back. I have to. Who knows what kind of suggestions have been put in her head?’ He wondered what she would think if she saw him as the Joker. The time for that would come later. He needed to decompress and get some rest.

It had been a few days since Ashe was released from the hospital. She didn’t want to go back to her apartment right away given everything she’d been through. The detectives helped her out by paying for a hotel room for her. Gary had stopped by and spent some time with her. He brought some bottled wine and they had a few drinks. Both of them were having a rough time, so it helped to be able to talk to each other. It was beginning to turn into a friendship. Ashe barely slept for days. She kept having nightmares about Arthur. She avoided the news hours on TV, and the phone. She made sure the window and door was locked. She was paranoid. She didn’t leave the hotel for two days. She heard a knock at the door. She undid the first lock so the chain would prevent the door from opening all the way. “Hi, are you Ashlyn Taylor?” a female voice asked. “Yes. You can call me Ashe. Who are you?” “My name is Sandy Beamount. I’m from social services.” “Gotham has had cuts to social programs.” “I know. I suppose I should be more clear and say I used to be a social worker for low income residents in Gotham. Detectives Burke and Garrity are concerned about you, and they asked me to come talk to you. Do you have a minute?” Ashe let out a deep breath and let the woman in.

[kaitycole]

Whiskey Glasses

Summary: The wedding is off and Riley asked a drunken Drake if they could still be friends, ripping his heart into pieces. He finds his way to a bar, needing to find a place to try to process how this went from an amazing day to an awful one.

This is the eighth installment of My Best Friend’s Wedding.

A/N: This series is coming to an end, please let me know if there’s anything you want to see happen before the wrap up.

Inspired by Whiskey Glasses by Morgan Wallen

Word Count: 1037

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, drunkenness, depression

Tag List: @liamxs-world @lynn1214 @mynameiskaylabella @mrswalkers-blog            @drakelover78 @gardeningourmet @zilch3 @speedyoperarascalparty   @umccall71 @mrsdrakewalkerblog  @hopefulmoonobject  @sleepwalkingelite            @annekebbphotography @jared2612 @indiacater @lodberg @lauradowning29 @dcbbw @araihc-ce @cora-nova @pedudley @custaroonie

           Drake makes his way to a bar, the same one that Riley had convinced him to go to for his birthday the first year they met. He used to dream about going back to this bar with her, just her, making it a yearly thing. That night was when he felt like she actually cared for him, now this place just feels dark.

           He’s sitting at the bar, drinking whiskey when a country song that hits too close to home starts playing.

Pour me, pour me another drink 'Cause I don't wanna feel a thing No more, hell no I just want to sip 'til the pain wears off

           Drake lets the word wrap around him as he throws back another whiskey before tapping the bar for another one.

Pour me, pour me another round Line 'em up and knock 'em down Two more, let's go 'Cause I ain't ever hurt like this before

           “Just leave the bottle, please,” Drake says flatly.

           The bartender nods in understanding, placing the whiskey bottle next to Drake’s empty glass.

Don't wanna think about her Wear a ring without her Don't wanna hit the karaoke bar Can't sing without her So make them drinks strong 'Cause, brother, she's gone And if I'm ever gonna move on

           He thinks back to the day he bought her engagement ring. He was going to use a family heirloom but he didn’t want her to think he was being cheap. He took a whole week to shop for the perfect one, Hana offered to help but he wanted to do this on his own.

           He found the perfect one, at least he thought it was. A white gold band with a single oval diamond, she swore to him that she loved it. Like she told him that she loved the apartment on the Upper East Side he got them. Like she told him that she loved that he would be by her side forever. Just like she said that she loved him. Everything she ever said was a lie.

I'ma need some whiskey glasses 'Cause I don't wanna see the truth She's probably making out on the couch right now With someone new

           At this point, he’s drinking straight out of the bottle, his hair is messy, falling in his face. His eyes burn from the tears that fell from his eyes for the last couple hours. All he can see is Riley’s expression when she heard Liam was divorcing or divorced, whatever.

           She’s probably making out on the couch right now with someone new, he repeats in his head, yeah she probably is, but it’s not someone new.

           Fresh tears start to fill his red rimmed eyes, thinking about how the day has gone from the best day of his life to the worse day.

           How didn’t I see any of this? I knew I was right to think she wouldn’t truly pick me over Liam.

           She rushed through everything, moving to New York, calling off any trips they made to Cordonia, even postponing the wedding. Almost like she was waiting to see if Liam would call.

If ima be single I'ma need double shot of that heartbreak proof

           He pours the last little bit of the whiskey in his mouth. Placing the empty bottle down on the bar a little too hard. Noticing Drake’s drunkenness, the bartender places a small bowl of pretzels near him. His arms feel heavy, head is swirling around. His head starts pounding causing the lyrics to blur into background noise.

           Stumbling as he gets up, he pulls out a flask from his coat; sucking down the contents. He falls back onto the barstool and puts his head down on the bar. How would he ever get over this? He had never fell in love before, not like this, and now it was just gone.

           Where would he go? Back to New York? Awkwardly stay in Cordonia? To the family ranch in Texas? All of those are a big no-go. Maybe he’ll finally pack it up and go to Montana like he originally wanted to. He has a lot to think about before he decides. He wouldn’t rush into it like he did with Riley.

Line 'em up Line 'em up Line 'em up Line 'em up Knock 'em back Knock 'em back Knock 'em back Knock 'em back Fill 'em up Fill 'em up Fill 'em up Fill 'em up

           The words continue to dance around him as he lays his head on the bar drunkenly. It’s a few moments before he feels someone come up to his side, draping him over their shoulder.

           “Bastieeeeennnnnn! What’s up man!?” He slurs.

           “Let’s get you home,” Bastien says, helping Drake get up and walk towards the door. When they stop for Bastien to get a better grip, Drake sees a blurry outline of a redhead sternly talking to the bartender about what he saw. He tries squinting to make the figure out better but he can’t, between the drunken blur and the tears that have taken up residence in his eyes, he can’t see anything.

           But he didn’t have to see her to know who she was when she came up beside him, “Drake, you’re coming to Lythikos to stay for a while.” Her usual stern expression has softened looking at him, completely broken.

           She’d given him a hard time most of their lives, but she does care for him. No matter how rude or judgmental she was to him, he was always there for her. As children, when Constantine would berate her, Drake was the one who took her to the stables to decompress. She’d kill you if you ever asked, but she truly felt like Drake was a true friend. She’ll never admit that she secretly wishes she could be the one to help piece him back together.

           He nods, Bastien helping him into the limo. He rests his head against the seat, beginning to feel all the weight from the day. Finally, he lets himself completely fall apart, Olivia holding his head in her lap as the last line he hears of the song, plays on repeat in his mind.

'Cause if she ain't ever coming back.

[tommybaholland]

Enough Part 1 (tom holland x reader)

(gif feels threatened but not mine)

Summary: the one where a line is drawn between you and tom when someone finds out

Word count: 4.5k of oof

(sorry if the ‘keep reading’ doesn’t work!)

Warnings: angst and swearing with a dash of fluff & smut

“I’m gonna need some water,” Tom requests after a big exhale. “I’m feeling a little faint, I’m not gonna lie.”

The press tour moved along and was currently stopping in Brazil. Tom and Laura had just finished their interview game that included them answering questions with a live spider in the room.

Tom was a little nervous about it, to say the least.

When asked if they wanted to hold it, being the fearless guy he is, Tom accepted the challenge. He cupped the large spider in his hands, which were visibly shaking, in order to alleviate his fear of spiders.

He came out from in front of the camera after they were done, water bottle in his hand, and quickly shuffled into the green room. You watched him anxiously pass you, making you shortly follow after him.

You opened the door to see him, alone, sitting in a chair, nervously sipping on his water.

“Hey,” you said while closing the door. He nodded, giving you a small smile. You walked closer to him, pulling up another seat to sit by him. You leaned in close, gently taking his hand in yours. “You alright?” You asked, rubbing the back of his trembling hand. “You’re shaking.”

He let out a long exhale, nodding his head vigorously before looking over at you. “Yeah, yeah. I’m alright,” he confirmed. “That spider was just...really big and...hairy,” he swallowed hard.

His face looked pale and his eyes were glossy. You gave him a sad smile, standing up to hold his head close to your middle while affectionately rubbing his shoulder and smoothing down his hair on the back of his head.

“Aww, it’s okay. It’s over now,” you comforted. “But you faced your fear and held it!”

“I’m really proud of you,” you added, pulling away to smile down at him.

He looked at you with longing eyes before he spoke those words.

“I love you.”

Your smile dropped, looking down at his sincere face. You wanted to admit it too, so badly. It was just three words and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to say them. Not because you didn’t feel the same way, but because of the situation you were in was what made you hesitate. You and Tom were still hiding from everyone, including your closest friends. Not even Josh knew and you told each other everything. Your guilt grew each day that you kept it from them. And Tom confessing his love for you really sent your guilt to an all time high.

So you just leaned down to kiss him, hoping he would catch your sentiment. You held his head in your hands, your thumbs brushing over his sharp jawline. His hands ran up your sides, pulling you closer. You took the cue to sit down on his lap, straddling him in the seat. His kisses were needy and fast, as if he was about to fade away and those were his last moments alive.

He pulled away and began kissing down your neck, starting at your jaw. He held your cheek as you giggled, lifting your chin to allow him more access.

“Tom,” you laughed while holding his wrist attached to the hand that held your cheek. “We can’t do this here.” You tried to be serious but couldn’t help indulging in his affection, his lips tickling your skin.

“Mmm, you smell good,” he commented, his face rested in between your neck and shoulder.

You smiled at his compliment, pushing at his chest slightly to look at him.

“I mean it, y’know. I do love you.”

You saw the admiration and love in his eyes, leaning in to give him one last slow kiss.

*

*

*

After a long day, you all head back to the hotel, looking to decompress a bit before dinner. You went to your room to put down your bag before pulling out your phone to reply to Tom’s text.

6:40pm Tom: Meet me in my room 😘

6:42pm You: Coming now, don’t get too excited! 😉

You walked down the hall to his room, looking behind you to make sure no one saw you. You reached his door and pulled out his spare room key that he had given you, sliding it into the cardholder, hearing the click of the door grant you access.

You walked in to see him sitting on the bed, typing on his phone. Upon hearing the door open, he looked up, immediately beaming at your appearance.

“Hello, darling,” he greeted. “I think you know why I’ve asked you to come here.”

You squinted your eyes, pretending to think. “Hmm, I don’t recall you telling me why.” You sat down next to him on the edge of the bed.

“Well that’s for me to know,” he replied while leaning closer to you, his voice lowering.

“And for you to find out,” he spoke against your lips.

He pushed you down onto the mattress roughly, making you squeal into his mouth. He hovered fully over you, pushing his knee in between your legs, with your lips still connected. The kiss was just as needy as earlier that day except he was getting a little more handsy by squeezing his hands down your body. Once they got your hips, one stayed there, while the other began to pet over your clothed heat, rubbing through the thin fabric of your pants. You hummed into his mouth while sucking on his lower lip.

You were suddenly pulled away from your pleasureful state when you heard a knock on his door and Harrison’s voice.

“Are you coming to dinner, mate?” The voice sounded through the door.

“Tom,” you mumbled against his lips, pulling away. “Haz is at the door.” You turned your head to look over while another knock rang out, giving Tom a chance to start kissing down your neck.

“Ignore it, he’ll go away, eventually,” he spoke into your skin.

Outside the door, Harrison was beginning to give up, figuring maybe his brunette friend had already gone downstairs. But when he looked down at the floor by the door, he noticed a room key sticking out at the bottom. He furrowed his brows in confusion while leaning down to pick it up. He looked at it, turning it over before looking back at Tom’s door as a curious thought popped into his head.

Harrison’s voice disappears, figuring that he finally gave up and left. You’re able to focus back on Tom, who’s currently placing open mouthed kisses on your collar with his fingers starting to sneak under the waistband of your pants.

Suddenly you hear the click of the key cardholder and the door quickly opening, revealing the tall blonde boy. His face immediately dropped in shock upon seeing Tom on top of you while in bed.

“Haz!” You exclaimed, sitting up quickly while slightly pushing Tom off of you.

“I-I found this outside the door,” he explained while holding up the key. You frantically dug your hands inside your jacket, failing to feel the smooth plastic in your pockets.

It must’ve fallen out. Maybe I thought I put it in my pocket?

“What the fuck is going on here?” He asks, nodding between the two of you.

“Mate-“

“It’s not-“

You both speak at the same time but Harrison cuts you off.

“Don’t give me the ‘it’s not what it looks like’ bullshit because it’s clearly what it looks like,” he retorted angrily. “Does anyone else know?”

You both shake your head.

Harrison rubs over his eyes before speaking again. “Why have you kept this a secret from me? From everyone?”

You look over at Tom, distress written all over your face, to see he’s looking at his friend with his mouth open. You can tell he wants to say something but nothing comes out of his mouth.

And it’s all because of you.

You never fully explained why you wanted to keep this a secret between you and him. And he never asked. But you highly doubt that the thought had never crossed his mind.

It had crossed Tom’s mind a few times. He never asked because truth be told, he liked keeping a part of his life a secret, for once. He didn’t mind sharing about himself in interviews and the fans calling his name but people can be intrusive. And that made him uncomfortable that people liked him so much, they would go to extreme lengths to know absolutely everything.

He already liked you from just casually hanging out with you but after you started hooking up, he couldn’t get enough. He never wanted to stop seeing you. Those few months that you spent apart after the film wrapped were the loneliest of his life. He had his friends and family, sure, and he could text or FaceTime whenever he pleased but something felt like it was missing without you.

Coming back for the press tour with you is when he really started to wonder why. But regardless, he was happy to be back with you and didn’t want to ruin the moment by trying to pry you open. You were taking it pretty slow in your relationship, after all. But he was starting to question your intentions, especially now that his best friend was involved.

Neither you nor Tom spoke up and you wondered if Tom’s head was spinning just as much as yours.

Harrison shook his head and scoffed. “Can’t believe this,” he mutters while turning to storm out the door.

“Wait, H!” Tom tries to get to the door but it’s too late. Harrison was already out the door, quickly trying to escape the situation.

Tom makes a sound of frustration, rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair. He walks back over to you, still sitting on the bed, and sits down on the edge but he’s further away from you with his hand bowed into his hands.

You just sat there, frozen, unsure of what to do. You looked at tom for a few moments before swallowing hard, trying not to cry.

“I’m so sorry, Tom, I didn’t know the key wasn’t in my pocket,” you tried to console him.

He looks up from his hands, turning his head towards you. “That’s what you’re sorry about?” He questioned in an irritated tone. “You’re sorry about my best friend catching us when we should’ve never been a secret in the first place?” He stood up from his seat. “He wouldn’t be mad at me right now if you didn’t insist on hiding from everyone!” He yelled.

“Tom, I—” You began but he shook his head, already turning around to storm out the door, just as his blonde friend did moments earlier. You winced at the door slamming shut, tears starting to fall at the realization of what occurred.

You and Tom rarely fought. And if you did it was usually about stupid little things. Sure, he was grumpy sometimes and needed some space but he’s never shouted at you like that before. But then again, you didn’t know that was how he really felt. Maybe he didn’t either. Harrison was his best friend and with this coming between the two, Tom may have realized it’s not what he wanted.

Either way, your actions finally caught up to you and now you had no one.

Ding!

The sudden noise pulled you from your spiraling emotions, only to see that it was your group chat. You scrolled through the messages, catching up on the conversation.

6:53pm Jacob: Dinner anyone? 😁

6:55pm Z: Yooo let’s goooo

6:58pm Josh: Fuck yes i’m starving

7:10pm Laura: Where is everyone? We’re downstairs

7:13pm Haz: I’m coming rn

You looked at the most recent message, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

7:17pm Tom: Omw now

You went back to your messages, clicking on Tom’s name to open your private chat. You started typing, tears still streaming down your face.

7:18pm You: I’m sorry

7:18pm You: I didn’t mean for this to happen

You locked your phone and stood up, leaving Tom’s room to go back to your own. You flopped back on your own bed, debating on going to dinner. You unlocked your phone, opening up your messages with Tom, and you felt a pang in your heart upon seeing the tiny text underneath your messages.

Read

*

*

*

Tom looks down at his phone, seeing your recent messages, as he rode the elevator down to the hotel lobby. He was still quite mad at you, but more confused than anything. He was just tired of hiding with you and now that it had created a rift between him and his best friend, he’d had it.

The elevator dinged, signaling that it had stopped at the lobby floor. Tom exited his messages and locked his phone without replying.

He walked into the restaurant inside the hotel, and joined his friends at the table. Of course, the only open seat was across from Harrison, on the far side of the table. He felt Harrison’s piercing blue eyes on him as he sat down and began looking at the menu. Tom had hoped that he didn’t already tell everyone about what happened but then again, it seemed like he didn’t get the chance yet, as no one else was acting weird around him.

Everyone ordered their drinks and went back to their separate conversations before Josh spoke up.

“Wait, where’s Y/N?” He asked, looking around at the table.

“I dunno. Tom was with her last.” Harrison quips, locking his glare on Tom, who just glared back at him.

Josh furrows his brows, looking back and forth between the two.

“You heteros are no help,” he replies, as he begins to text you at the table.

As dinner went by, Tom and Harrison didn’t speak a word to each other. Tom didn’t really talk much at all, which caused everyone to detect the tension between the two, making the tail-end of dinner pretty awkward. Tom needed to talk to his friend but it had to wait until after dinner, when they could be alone together.

After paying the check, everyone got up and went back up to their floor. Tom was the last one to leave, trailing behind Harrison, who was walking with Jacob. He got on the elevator with them, the tension thick in the air, making Jacob shuffle around awkwardly in his place. They got off at their floor, Harrison’s pace picking up to escape Tom. Jacob stumbled behind him, looking back at Tom, confused.

“Hey, guys, wait,” Tom finally spoke as he caught up with the two boys.

Harrison gave him a look of annoyance as he reached them but Tom wasn’t having it. “Jacob, can I talk to H alone for a second?”

Jacob’s glance shifted from him to Harrison.

“Uh, sure?” He replied, uncertainty in his tone.

“Why don’t you just tell me here, mate?” Harrison spoke up. “We’re all friends, right?”

Tom clenches his jaw, turning his head to look down the hall before looking back at him. “Okay, but can we go into your room?”

Harrison’s lips pressed into a tight line, digging into his pocket for his room key. All three of them walked inside, the door audibly shutting behind them.

Tom stops a few steps in front of the door while the two boys walk further into the room. They turn around to see their brunette friend standing there, rocking on his feet.

Harrison looks at Tom, waiting for him to start talking. “Well, go on.”

Jacob stands in between the two, feeling out of place and confused by the tension between them. “....What’s going on?”

“I dunno, Jacob. I’m waiting for Tom to tell us,” Harrison answers, still looking at Tom, who’s now walking closer to them.

Tom sighs before laying it all out to his two friends.

“Okay, so, as you saw, Harrison,” he began. “Y/N and I have been seeing each other.”

“What!?” Jacob exclaims.

Harrison wastes no time to interrogate. “Since when?”

“....A few weeks after we began shooting,” Tom mumbles.

“Dude, for real?” Jacob chimes in again.

“So you’ve been lying to us for, what? Almost a year?” Harrison observes.

“Well, we were apart for a few months after filming ended,” Tom clarified.

Harrison shook his head. “A few mon–Tom it doesn’t matter! You still snuck around and lied to all of us!”

“You think I don’t know that!?” Tom shouted, veins prominent in his neck. “You don’t understand. She told me not to tell anyone,” he explained.

“Okay, okay, wait. So you’ve been sleeping with Y/N for almost a year and she forces you not to say anything? Even to us?” Jacob relays out.

Tom laughs in annoyance. “First of all, we’ve never had sex. And second, she didn’t force me not to tell you guys. She just, told me not to tell anyone.”

“What happened to guy code, man? We,” Harrison counters, gesturing between him and Jacob. “Your best friends, would like to know these things and trust you to tell us. That’s kinda how this works.”

“Yeah dude, the fuck?” Jacob agrees.

“Listen guys, I’m sorry I never told you. It’s just, I really like her,” Tom confesses.

Harrison sighs, starting to feel sympathy for his friend. “Well, why didn’t she want you to tell anyone?”

“That’s the thing,” Tom laughs. “I’m not sure why.”

*

*

*

Josh, Zendaya, and Laura left the restaurant before the boys, carrying a foam box of food that they ordered for you. Josh had texted you, asking where you were, but you never replied back.

“So no word from Y/N?” Zendaya asked.

“Nope,” Josh replied. “C’mon, let’s check her room,” he suggested.

The three of them walk down the hall of the floor and reach your door.

“Y/N!” Josh hollers, knocking on your door. “Bitch, we know you’re in there.”

You slowly get up, trying to wipe your face which had been tear streaked with ruined mascara under your eyes. You opened the door to see Josh, Zendaya, and Laura standing outside. You turned to walk back to your bed, leaving the door open for them to enter.

“We brought you something from dinner,” Laura said gingerly, placing a styrofoam box on the console. You started to tear up and sniffle again at the thoughtful gesture, knowing they’d probably hate you after this.

Josh came over and sat on the bed next to you, putting an arm around your shoulders. “Aw, what’s wrong? You know I hate seeing you cry,” he consoled. The other girls joined you, sitting at the end of the bed, waiting for you speak.

“I-I have to tell you guys s-something,” you sniffled.

They put their full attention on you, wanting to hear what you had to say. You took a deep breath before confessing your thoughts.

“Tom…” They nodded slowly, pushing for you to continue.

“...And I have been hooking up for the past year and I told him not to tell anyone so we kept it a secret and then filming ended,” you rambled. “So we were apart for a few months and now that we’re together again things are getting more intense and today he told me he loved me and then Harrison walked in on us and now Tom’s mad at me and I just wish I never kept it from anyone,” you finished, letting out a long breath of relief as the truth was finally out in the open.

You looked up at all of their faces to see them looking at each other, wondering what to say.

“I’m sorry–” You started to apologize before Josh’s high pitched laugh rang out.

“HAH! I knew it, I fucking knew it! You bitches owe me the new Jeffree Star highlighter palette,” he exclaimed, pointing at the two girls. They exchanged looks with displeased smiles.

Josh turns back to you, looking at him with furrowed brows. “Bitch, we been knew,” he explained. “Well, I knew. I’ve had my suspicions since you stopped closing yourself up in the trailer and taking all those FaceTime calls after the shoot ended.”

He was right. You never really FaceTimed anyone except him and your mom but Josh knew you well enough that you would never contact her that often.

“Okay, Sherlock, chill out! We’ve established that you were right,” Zendaya chimed in. “Did you know the rest of the tea, though, hmm?”

“Yeah, Y/N, what happened, again?” Laura joined.

“Did you say that man said he loves you?” Josh questioned.

You took another deep breath, nodding. “Yes. Today, after you guys had finished that interview with the spider,” you started, looking over at Laura. “He dropped it on me, like, out of nowhere.”

“And what did you say back?” Laura asked.

“Nothing. That’s when the guilt really hit me because I do love him but I’m just scared of where this’ll lead,” you explained.

“What do you mean?” Zendaya spoke up.

“I just, I’ve never really been lucky with relationships and when this all started, it was nice just being with him and not getting others involved,” you replied, ashamed in your answer.

“Well, Y/N, we are your friends. Even though I basically knew, I would have rathered you tell me instead of me having to fucking snoop around,” Josh says.

“I know, I know it’s bad and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” You tried to defuse the situation. “I usually don’t keep things like this from you guys but I just don’t know how to handle this situation. Y’know, dating someone in the industry, especially with him being Spider-Man.”

“That’s why you have us, sis!” Josh exclaims.

“Stop, Josh,” Z scolds before turning back to you. “Look, Y/N, we can help you through this. But you need to keep us in the loop or else we can’t do it, okay?”

You nod at her request, not wanting anything else to backfire in your face. “Alright, good. Now, tell us what happened,” she said, gesturing for you to continue.

You told them everything that happened earlier that day with you, Tom and Harrison, emphasizing Tom’s animosity towards you after the fact.

“I don’t blame him. He has every right to be mad and this is my fault but I just want to be with him,” you confessed.

“Well, I mean, you did wrong him by fucking him for almost a year and not letting him do what every heterosexual male does and talk about it to his friends,” Josh responds.

“We’ve never had sex, actually. You know I don’t give it away that easily,” you retorted with a flat tone. “And I know what I did, I just want everything to be okay.”

“Well I hope he gets that pussy soon with everything you’ve put him through!” He throws back.

“You’re not helping, Josh!” Laura jumped in. “Okay, Y/N, it’s alright. We can fix this. Tom is just emotional right now and you should give him his space but he forgives easily.”

“Yeah, and you should just tell him how you feel. He’ll understand,” Z added. “He’s still getting used to his own situation as well.”

You nod, already trying to think about how you would explain it all to him. You weren’t exactly the best at expressing your feelings to someone. Sometimes your feelings were too complex for you to even understand. However, one thing was clear to you:

I love him, but I was wrong.

*

*

*

The next morning, you wake up feeling worse than you did the night before. You barely got any sleep, tossing and turning while your mind was plagued with everything that had happened, and everything that could happen today. You checked your phone which showed there was still nothing from Tom. Your heart ached as you dreaded seeing him today, thinking about how you’re the last person he’d want to be around right now.

You went downstairs to join Josh, Laura and Z in a car. They gave you a pep talk during the ride over to the studio, knowing that you’d eventually have to interact with Tom. You are his makeup artist, after all.

Once you arrived, you had to do Tom’s makeup as he was doing an solo interview first. You found him sitting off to the side by himself, politely waiting for you to come over. You reluctantly walked over to him with your makeup case clutched in your hand. Normally Josh would be next to you incase you needed anything but he wanted you to sort this out with Tom just as much as you did.

You approached him, mumbling a quiet ‘hey’ and setting your stuff down on the table next to him. He didn’t say anything but nodded and gave you a tight lipped smile, which made the hole in your heart grow a little wider.

You worked on his face in silence, with him just scrolling through his phone, trying to avoid conversation with you. The painful silence didn’t last too long as you had gotten pretty quick at doing his makeup. After you were finished, you said a quick ‘all done’ to which he thanked you just as quickly and stayed in the chair, still preoccupied by the device.

You saw this as your chance and forced yourself to break the silence.

“Tom?” You said loud and clear. He looked over at you, eyebrows raised. “Can...can we talk?”

He looked at you for a moment, seeing the pleading look in your eyes before agreeing. “Yeah, alright.”

You took his hand, resisting the urge to interlace your fingers, pulling him off to the side of the set. People could still see you, but at least you were out of the main focus.

You dropped his hand once you arrived, but kept your back turned to him. You took a deep breath before turning to face him. You avoided his eye contact, actually you avoided looking at his entire face, not wanting to break down in front of him.

You didn’t know where to start but two words eventually emerged in your head.

“I’m sorry,” you began, “for everything. And you deserve an explanation so I’m gonna try to lay it out.”

You paused trying to collect your thoughts.

“When this all started, I didn’t think much of it honestly. I did really like you but I wasn’t sure how you felt until we got back here. And I told you to not tell anyone because I just enjoyed being with you, y’know? It was nice not having anyone in our business, especially with you, being so….well known. It just scares me a bit.”

He takes his gaze off of you, looking down while biting his lip, heeding your words.

“So you didn’t want anyone, including our friends, to know because you’re scared of other people getting involved?”

“Um, yeah, I mean, l-I guess. It’s just overwhelming. I know you love your job but I also see you’re exhausted by it sometimes and I’ve see what this type of situation does to relationships,” you explain, referring to his level of celebrity.

He scoffs at your words. “Y/N it’s really not that big a deal.”

“It’s not but–“

“Then why’re you making it sound like that?”

“I’m just, trying to tell you how I feel. I’m slow to warm up,” you reduced. “and I don’t like fighting with people, especially ones who I really care about,” you added, taking his hand to softly hold in yours.

He looked down at your joined hands, processing your words. You seemed pretty sincere but he wasn’t sure he could fully forgive you yet. He wanted to but he wasn’t buying it at the moment.

“Why are you overthinking this so much?” He finally asks.

He wanted to dig deep into you and really find out what brought this all on. And he hit it right on the head. You were overthinking it, you had been right from the beginning. You really didn’t have an answer, your eyes searching through his to find what he wanted to know.

“I love you...shouldn’t that be enough?” Tears began to well up in your eyes at his broken tone.

This is it, just say it!

Your mouth opened but nothing came out, silence continuing to fill the air.

Tom shook his head, pulling his hand from yours.

“Forget it. Glad to know I mean so much to you,” he said while backing away from you, eventually turning around to walk away, running his hands through his hair.

You stood there for a second, alone, broken. You quickly turned around and walked into a dark corner of the set, hoping no one would find you. You leaned back against a wall, sliding down into a seated position, finally letting all your tears fall. Your thoughts overwhelmed you but one thing was absolutely clear:

He loves me, but now he’s gone.

*

*

*

A/N: fun fact an alternative title for this was ‘peeping harrison’ lol. woo, been working on this one for a minute. been thinkin about writing this for an even longer minute and its finally happening!! there will be another part but i’m still playing around with a few things so i’m not sure if i should post it....yet *wink* but lmk! hoped you enjoyed and stay cool my dudes...

read more of my tom writing here

part 2??

~ tommybaholland 🌺

[loverontheleft]

Ready to Leap (7.1)

AU with B as a band teacher and reader as an English teacher. Fluff and smut anticipated. Chapters 1-6 can be found on my Masterlist.

Brendon x reader. Warnings: language, sexual implications, and content.

Because I don’t want to end up teaching British Literature online through a fanfic (though what a class that would be), I’m gonna continue playing fast and loose with the progression of time. Classroom time will be present as required by the plot. If you have questions about any of the works I mention and want to know why I used them or just have general questions about them, feel free to ask! I love teaching more than I love Brendon (which is a fucking lot) so I love getting literature questions.

NOTE:

Now that I have your attention. THIS CHAPTER IS FROM BRENDON’S POV. I’m still using Y/n when Brendon’s referring to the reader because it seems easiest, but the second person “you” in this chapter is our boy.

Word count: 3.5k

-||-

“Sounds like a plan. I’m really sorry Urie, but I do actually have some work to do this planning period.” She looks regretful, like she really does want to stay - and you want her to stay too. But you’re not going to interfere with her job.

You nod, understanding. She reaches for the panties still in your hand and you pull back.

“No ma’am, these are mine now. You left them for me. Also, your dress doesn’t have pockets; where would you even put them until you got back to your room?”

“Well, seeing as I’m not wearing any currently, I would have just put them on.” Your eyes go wide and she smiles. “But like you said, they’re yours now, so I’ll just head back to my room.” She gives you a quick kiss before turning and walking towards the office door.

“Milton, you’re kidding, right? You’re fucking with me right now. Oh my god.” You’re sitting on the couch now, head resting against interlocked fingers. She turns before leaving your office and blows you a kiss. Once she’s gone, you sit back and groan, eyes shut. “Woman, you are going to be the death of me, I swear.”

You’re distracted the rest of your planning period; you keep playing the moment you found her panties on repeat. Your alarm went off, you rolled over to hit the snooze button, and, instead of smooth plastic, your fingers touch lace. Confused, your fingers close around the lace and bring it over to your drowsy eyes. You turn on the table lamp with your free hand and blink to focus. “Jesus fucking Christ.” As if you weren’t hard enough from your evening together playing on repeat behind your eyes all night; this was a whole new level. Your eyes slide to the time on your clock. You don’t have time, unless it’s in the shower. You groan again, clutching her panties and rolling out of bed.

The bell for 4th block rings and you shake your head, clearing out memories of steamy showers. Time to focus. You leave for Invitationals early Saturday morning; you have 3 more practices left , and only one of them is an extended practice. Maybe letting them leave early last night was a - no. Your mind wanders back to kissing her, how she responded so eagerly, so soft and willing, the rest of your evening together, sucking strawberry off of her fingers, and you reaffirm your decision. You all deserved a break yesterday.

“Heyyyyyy Mr. Urie.” Emily drops her bag by her seat and grins at you. “Ms. Milton was really distracted in second block.” Don’t react. Don’t react.

“Was she?” Calm. Mostly uninterested. Good.

“Yep. Anyway, thanks for letting us go early yesterday; I finished my chemistry research project early and don’t have anything to do over Invitationals weekend. How was your night?”

You look at her and can’t tell what she knows. If she knows. You’re pretty sure all of the cars were gone when you - but Marissa maybe? She wouldn’t have said anything. Would she? No.

“It was very pleasant, thank you for asking. Good job on the chem project, by the way. Good to stay on top of things.” Y/n, in your lap, rocking on top of you, grinding those hips down, rubbing herself against your dick, moaning in your ear, telling you to come. Fuck. It’s going to be a long day.

Everyone’s changing for practice and you head into your office to send her a quick text. “Can’t stop thinking about you. Headed out to the field. Practice is over at 3:30 today.” You don’t expect a response so you’re stunned when your phone vibrates immediately.

“I’ll meet you in the band room at 4.”

It’s. Going. To. Be. A. Long. Day.

Practice goes as smoothly as it could go; Marissa looks more confident, steps are all neat and precise, and the shapes are clean and exact. They sound amazing. They’re working hard, and you’re sure it’s out of appreciation for their unexpected night off. You finetune a few things, have the sections retune, and run it again. And just like that, it’s 3:25. “Excellent job guys - I mean it. Really phenomenal. Do that Saturday and you’ll be really pleased with your ratings. Pack up, head inside, and be sure to stay hydrated. Extended practice tomorrow!”

You wait until the field is cleared and climb down the ladder. By the time you get back inside and change, it’ll be 3:45. Everyone will be gone and you’ll only have to wait fifteen minutes.

It’s 4 on the dot and there’s a soft knocking at your door. You pull the door open and she’s standing there and just when you thought you couldn’t be any more attracted to her -

“I ordered pizza.” She’s holding the box in her hands and you can smell it; it’s mouthwatering. “It's not filet mignon toast, but figured we could go over some logistics for the competition.”

Moments later, you’re both seated on the floor, her legs curled under her delicately, and you’re discussing bus schedules and food prep. “Typically the Band Boosters make a ton of sandwiches and put them back in the loaf sleeves and we put those in coolers with the drinks and bring dry snacks along.”

She nods thoughtfully. “That works. What are we doing for dinner Saturday after the competition?”

“What are we, you and I, doing, or what are we, the collective band, doing?” Your hand is wandering up her thigh over her dress and she blushes. “We, you and I, are doing whatever we, you and I, want.”

“But we should probably be with the collective band, right?”

“That’s what the parent volunteers are for. Typically they divide into 4 groups and go to 4 different restaurants. Each kid has their own “band account” where tip money and bonus work hour rewards from the fish fry go, so they don’t have to worry about spending their own money.”

“That’s really smart.” She looks impressed and you smile.

“It took a while to get it all in order, but it works really well now. But anyway, the parent volunteers take them to dinner with the understanding that I need to be alone and decompress. With my anxiety and everything, I need some alone time after competitions.” She looks so concerned, so protective. “I’m usually fine, honestly. Just a lot of tension and high energy and crowds, sometimes it’s a bit much, especially at Invitationals which can be a two-day event if things go well Saturday.”

She places her hand over yours and smiles. “So what I’m hearing is a quiet night in with hotel room service.” She pauses, squeezing your hand. “And a ‘do not disturb’ sign.”

“That, Milton, is a very tempting offer. But we can go out for real food and then come back for that sign.”

“Either works for me.” She shrugs and takes another bite of pizza, a bit of sauce grazing the corner of her mouth. You lean in and kiss her, tongue flicking out and capturing it.

“What are your plans for the rest of the evening?” Your own personal plans depend on however she replies.

“Grading Beowulf outlines and writing a comprehension test and doing a stupid scantron answer sheet.”

“Gosh Milton, I was going to ask if you wanted to go to Disney World, but your night sounds so much better,” you tease and she laughs.

“Definitely.”

You hesitate, flipping your hand over under hers to hold hers lightly. “As always, tell me if I’m moving too fast but, you are welcome to come over and I’ll make a random scantron answer sheet for you and you can write questions and change answers around after. It takes one thing off your to-do list.”

She grins, setting down her pizza and moving it off of her lap. “And why would you helping me with a test be moving too fast?”

“I just don’t want you to think I’m trying to hold you captive or anything, having you over every night.”

“Wait, you’re not planning to hold me captive? Then what were those handcuffs for?” She shrieks with laughter when you shove the pizza box out from between you and tackle her, hand behind her head protectively, kissing her fiercely.

“You’re bad, Milton.”

“You like it, Urie.”

-||-

You both agree that she’ll go get what she needs from her room, go home and change, and then head over.

It’s an hour later and she’s sitting on your couch, green pen in hand, muttering something about logical fallacies and as stupid as it sounds, you’d watch her grade for hours. She showed up in sinfully tight leggings and your black tee, hair in a messy bun, and glasses on. “Damn,” you whistled when you opened the door. “How do you look good in anything?” and she grinned, stepping inside and kissing you softly once you’d shut the door.

“Are you ready for Milton’s Torturedome?” She asks, holding a stack of outlines.

“I’m ready to watch you, although admittedly I can think of like five other things I’d rather watch you do.”

She grins. “Just five, Urie? I’m hurt.”

You groan and pull her over to the couch. “Stop teasing me and grade. Let me know when you want me to start on the scantron and how many questions you want.” That was 40 minutes ago.

You look over at her again, taking a break from your scantron coloring, and she’s biting her lip in thought. She can feel your gaze and she looks up at you with a smile. “Yes?”

“Just looking.”

“Mmmm. Well I think I’m just about done with these. How goes the scantron?”

You smirk, holding it up. “Urie...is every answer C?” She’s laughing and you shake your head.

“Nope the last one is D.” You turn it over to show her.

“And you say I’m the bad one.” She sets aside the pile of outlines and crawls into your lap. “That’s just evil.”

“I can change it if you wa-“

“No. It’s hilarious.” She yawns and stretches and you feel her thighs tense around yours. “True confession, I already have the Beowulf test written. I just need to shuffle answers now and I can do that tomorrow.”

You grin. “I like this true confession. What does it mean for our evening?”

She grins back, running a hand through your hair. “It means we can put on a movie and pretend to watch it for five minutes before we give in and start making out.”

“Fuck yes.”

When her phone alarm goes off at 10:30, she pulls away breathlessly and frowns. “I don’t wanna stop.”

You look up at her, her lips swollen and hair all over the place, shirt missing. She’s drawing patterns on your bare chest, connecting the dots between the various marks she’s left. “I don’t want to stop either, but we set an alarm for a reason,” you remind her woefully.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” She rocks back onto her heels and fixes her hair. “What are we going to do Saturday night?”

You smirk, reaching out to caress the side of her breast. “I was hoping more of this.”

She giggles, and shakes her head. “No, I mean, yes but...for sleeping arrangements.”

“Oh, there’s usually another faculty member who goes, Mr. Dean, but he’s not teaching here this year. The school pays for two rooms for school employee chaperones.” She nods slowly.

“That sort of seems like a waste of money.” She grins, noticing your hopeful confusion. “I was hoping I’d be spending the evening in your bed.”

You groan, leaning up to tangle a hand in her hair and pull her back down on top of you. “Fuck, Milton, I want that too.” Your mouth is on hers and she grips the side of your face, moaning hungrily into your kiss.

Out of nowhere, she pulls back for a moment, thoughtful. “But obviously the kids will notice if we are in the same room. So...keep the room. Ask for adjoining ones if possible, to make things easier. I’ll just make an anonymous donation for the cost.”

You laugh, kissing her softly. “I’ve got it. Don’t protest.”

Thursday drags. Extended practice is rough today, not performance-wise, just as far as time goes. Friday is worse. You’ve both agreed it’s probably best to cut back on your time together at school over these two days, but you’re definitely regretting the choice. She probably is too.

She texts you late Friday evening. “Jeans and the band polo you gave me for tomorrow?”

You have several things you want to reply with, each implying your desire for her naked, but instead, you send back, “perfect” and a smiley face.

“Thanks Urie. Sleep well, and I’ll see you bright and early.”

She’s not lying; with Invitationals being so far away, the band and chaperones meet at the school at 5am. This is nothing for her, but the kids (and you) are lethargic. Fortunately for you, she’s taken charge of all bus logistics and is giving instructions. All you have to do is stand next to her to give her credibility with the band parents and not drag her to the ground and ravage her. That second one is easier said than done. She’s so hot with a clipboard in her hands.

Everything goes smoothly and you’re boarded and rolling by 5:30 - a whole thirty minutes early. This will give you time to stop somewhere for breakfast - a drive thru - but hungry high schoolers are like piranhas so you’re grateful. You are both seated at the front of the bus, and manage to appear as just colleagues the entire 6-hour drive. It’s hard, but you’re not taking any chances.

Lunch, as always, is chaotic but when you step away to discuss something with the competition coordinator, you happen to glance back over and your heart is so full. She’s walking around, checking in with students, insisting they drink more water, calming down the nervous freshmen, answering questions from parent volunteers and generally keeping things running smoothly. She looks up, catches your eye, and breaks into a radiant smile. “Hi,” you mouth while the coordinator checks something with his supervisor. She smiles, giving you a soft wave.

This is the first competition of the season and while it doesn’t count as a qualifier for State for your region, your scores here have always been reflective of how you’ll do at competitions that carry some real weight. The kids know this and are nervous - but it’s the excited nervous that doesn’t have you worried. You and Y/n are sitting in the bleachers with the other parent volunteers; the two of you are at the very top of the bleachers to get as close to a judge’s view as you can get. The march-on is smooth and well executed; the cadence from the drumline already has the crowd excited. You’re more nervous than the students are honestly; the announcer always gives the name of the band director and the name of the show composer. This is the first year both will be your name and you are petrified. The band comes to a halt. Marissa waits, facing the judges’ window. Her hands are steady at her side.

“From Putnam High School in Putnam, Connecticut, the Putnam High Marching Band is under the direction of Mr. Brendon Urie and drum major Marissa Wayford. They are performing Heroes and Villains, arranged by Mr. Brendon Urie.” Her hand squeezes yours. “Putnam High Marching Band, you may take the field for exhibition.” You let out a sigh. That should reassure the kids. Scores, but not scores that really matter. It usually helps you.

Marissa strides to the podium, ascends gracefully. She scans left, scans right. “Band horns up!” You want to vomit. And then they’re off.

Her hand is still squeezing yours and you can’t breathe. They’re doing so well. You are meticulous and obsessive and you haven’t spotted anything. People are cheering at each musical transition; you feel less sick. This is going well. It’s going really well. She looks over at you and smiles. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispers and you can’t fight the smile that spreads across your face. The crowd is screaming - there’s just something about a full company in a straight line forward march that drives people wild - it’s the band version of a dancer’s kickline, she whispers to you and you laugh.

Trumpet solo on Taps. She squeezes tighter and you both sigh in relief when that high note soars, pure and clear, through the stadium.

“Band horns down!” It’s over. It’s over. The entire crowd is on their feet roaring, and you’re staring at each other in ecstasy and her face, fuck, you can see how proud of you she is and without thinking, you grab her by the back of the neck and crush your mouth over hers. She moans into the kiss and tangles her hands in your hair, back arching so her chest is pressing into yours and your other hand is sliding down her back and she’s opening her mouth for your tongue and fuck this is so goo- oh fuck. Fuck.

You think it hits her at the same time and you both pull away from each other, panicked. Almost coordinated, you both whirl to the front and she lets out a sigh of relief that doesn’t even come close to what you’re feeling. The band is marching off and all of the parents are on still on their feet cheering.

“Odds that someone saw that?” You ask, breathing hard. Her eyes are still wide.

“Maybe one of the kids on the field but I doubt they’d know it was us.” You look around. You’re the only band with white show shirts. You and Y/n have on black band polos.

“I don’t know Milton...look around.” She does and comes to the same conclusion. She looks petrified. “I’m sure they didn’t look up here,” you soothe, unsure if you believe yourself. “They were probably watching Marissa and waiting for the march-off.” She nods and looks somewhat comforted.

“Okay. Let’s just go with that. We need to collect them and get them back on the bus, to the hotel, then divided into groups for dinner?” Making a plan calms her. She looks more confident.

“Yep. Let’s head down there now.” You reach for her hand and she gives you a pointed look and then grins. “Oh. Right.”

No one says anything about it to either of you walking to the bus or on the bus. The kids are chattering loudly about a variety of topics in the hotel lobby but you don’t hear either of your names. You might be okay. “Alright guys!” You get their attention and when they turn to look at you, you can see the glee in their faces. They know how well they did. “I’ll get scores emailed to me in about 4 hours. You’ve got time to get change, get dinner, and relax a bit at the hotel before we come back together in the meeting room downstairs. I’m so proud of you all. It was incredible to watch and I am just so, so excited for this season. Truly, an excellent job.” They can’t stop smiling and neither can you. “Now go change and stick stick with your groups.”

Y/n went up to change once you gave her her key, so ideally she’ll be ready to go to dinner once you get up there. To your mutual delight, the hotel was able to give you an adjoining room. You slide your key into the door, planning to knock on the connecting door to collect her for dinner. The green light blinks, you walk into your room, and all of your breath leaves your body. “Holy fuck Milton.”

She grins, leaning back on her elbows on your bed, eyes on you. “You like it?”

You nod silently, looking her up and down. “Did your friend make this for you too?” She giggles, shaking her head. “Stand up. I wanna see all of this.” She arches up, slipping off the bed and standing, turning slowly. The dress is a black silky material that plunges low between her breasts and slits high up her left thigh. “You know I’m not letting you leave the room in this, right?”

“That’s exactly what I was counting on.”

[boogiewrites]

An Act of Nature.

Here, have some Hopper smut.

Characters: Jim Hopper x Reader

Word Count: 6458

Summary:  You move back to Hawkins, luckily you hit it off with a friend of your step brothers. When Chief Hopper finally gets around to asking you out, what is it going to take for the two of you to find time alone? An act of nature?

Warnings: It’s smut. Two grown ups going on dates and then finally getting to have sex. Swearing, consensual sex between two adults, some dirty taking, suggestive dialogue.

My Masterlist.

A/N: I had to take a break from my main fic Before and After and do some one shots to clear my head, so this is one I ended up writing last week. (Also, this: Not the fun kind of Daddy Issues ) I wasn’t going to post it, because I thought it might be boring and well, just not that good. lol A few days later I receive an Ask, requesting a “snowed in with Hopper” plot, as I’m currently living in the middle of a snow storm and wanting to draw inspiration from real life. This is what I had already written. I know that seems like a lie, but it was just some of that sweet, sweet coincidence I love. So thank you anon!

The original request:” Anonymous asked:as a request for the snowstorm thing: you invited Hopper over for a date at your house and while he’s there, there’s a snowstorm and you’re both stuck in your house (and then smut if possible)?? “

Here are the tagged folks, if you’d like to be added or removed, just leave a reply and I’ll see it! Any positive feedback or messages are appreciated. Thanks!

@whatmakesmebeme-tblr @sleepylunarwolfh @elevenofmages @alahmorah @norcula @undiscl0sed-desir3s @atari-writes @jobean12-blog @miss-harleenquinzel @kiwiphroot @ashphoenix105 @ambeazyyy @riotguuuurl @warriorqueen1991 @misbehaving-f0r-days @divadinag @wefracturedmotivation @flamehairedwritings @earinafae @beltzboys2015-blog @gettinjoyful @lucifer-in-leather @nerdysuperchick 

This originally started as just a trip to Hawkins to help plan your step brothers wedding. Which was your job in a town far away from Hawkins. It ends with making the decision to move back to Hawkins to help take care of your aging parents. Now you're left rebuilding a business, long commutes, late nights, early mornings, it's hard work and you're a busy woman. Luckily for you, you find mutual attraction in one of your step brothers friends you'd hit it off with at the wedding. He's started turning into your favorite thing about this place.

Being a party planner, in general, you had plenty of excuses to stop by the station. Just between the permits and fire code questions, it would've been easy to make opportunities to see him. You found yourself driving into town to find out things that could be easily answered in a phone call by another person. But you always wanted to speak to the Chief, and it sure seemed like he always wanted to speak to you.  Between your conversations over cigarettes at the station and an accidental run in at the same place for lunch once, you'd not been out with Jim, but you wouldn't say no if he asked.

Today, you're making your way to the station again. You're having the same issue with a certain pain in your ass, Mr. Jones, who keeps fighting you on the ownership line of his and the wedding venues properties. He was making it impossible to set up the venue. Your client wanted 50 tulle bowed white chairs for the ceremony, exactly where Mr. Jones said you couldn't put them, and by God, you were going to get your client those 50 tulle bowed white chairs. You've pulled the surveyor and blueprints for the land from the city. You've even called Jim on him for moving all your event gear overnight, which is not on his property. This old man was stressing you the fuck out and you were done with it. Your face reads angry as you walk up to Flo's desk. "Good to see you again Ms. Y/N," Flo says, looking up over her glasses as she types. "The Chief is in his office, do I need to buzz him up for you?" her voice is full of implications, and all of them true. Flo found your thin veiled back and forth with Hopper amusing. "Mr. Jones is moving my stuff again." you speak softly but angrily, the more you think about it, the more animated you become. "He's screwing with my business and I'm not going to stand for it. He's done this 3 times already." you let out a loud noise of frustration as Jim appears out of the doorway to his office. "Afternoon, Y/N." he says, stretching as he saunters up to you. "Hey Chief." you sigh at the sight of him. "Jones again?" he asks you, taking a sip from his mug, looking at you over it. "Yes. He's being an asshole, and he knows he's in the wrong, and he's messing with my work, my business and it's stressing me the hell out, Hop." it all comes out much faster and louder than you mean it to. "Woah, hey, honey, he's not gonna mess up your work." he raises his arm, walking you towards his office. "Come on, at least you won't be yelling at the whole office this way." he laughs as he shuts the door behind him. You sit in the chair across from his desk, you cross your legs and arms, foot moving up and down in anger. He settles into his big chair across from you, leaning on the top  of his desk with his elbows. You just look at each other for a few seconds, you feel compelled to apologize for your angry reaction. "I didn't mean to yell, sorry." you say, it sounds much sassier than it's meant to, but you are speaking more quietly, at least. "It's fine. This is what? The fourth time you've had to come to me about this?" he lets out a small huff. "I'd be mad as hell about it too, honey." his empathy placates you, it's a welcome feeling to have someone understand your frustration instead of demanding more. "Thanks," you say sincerely. "It's nice to have someone agree with me instead of dealing with rabid, whiney, brides and mother-in-laws who can't be satisfied." you let out a sigh and uncross your arms, resting them on the arms of the chair. "Yeah that sounds...terrible, yeah." he laughs, and you join in for a brief moment. "I don't know how you do that, it'd drive me crazy." "Coming from the Chief of Police...that's pretty bad." the laugh that comes out of your mouth, full of self-pity at your situation for a moment. "But I can deal with Jones. So don't worry about it." he knocks on the wooden desk in front of him, giving you a quick wink.  "I'll go by and make sure we reach an understanding." he gives a sly smile. "I hear using bars of soap in a pillow case works pretty well, doesn't leave too many marks." you answer sarcastically, your anger subsiding slowly, you can tell by the grin that finds itself on your face from your conversation. "Do I need to run a background check on you?" he jokingly narrows his eyes at you. You huff and roll your eyes, giving him a small laugh, indulging him just a little bit. You sigh and there's a weighted silence in the room for a moment. You don't need to stay too long. "It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have a week off after this event," your head tilts back dramatically, "This one has been so stressful and it's so close to being over and I can get my check and get some damn sleep." you sit up in the chair, preparing to leave. He nods in approval. "Sounds like you need a break." He sits forward, anticipating your exit. "You taking a week off for any particular reason?" he asks casually, he is a cop after all, always the observant one. "No. I just packed my schedule so tight after coming back here. Too many late nights and early mornings so close together.  I have to stop before I burn out." you stand and he moves to the door. "Oh, well I wouldn't know anything about working hours like that." he answers sarcastically. You both stand close and give each other flirty glances in the brief seconds your bodies pass each other in the doorway. He walks you down the hallway, out the front doors, you already have your hand digging in your purse. In an almost synchronized way, you both pull cigarettes out of your packs with your lips, and light them, taking a hit as you lean back. "You have any plans for next week yet?" he asks, you side eye him, not turning your face towards him. "A whole lot of nothing. I just needed to decompress." you exhale a cloud of smoke. "I assumed I'd figure it out as I went." you shrug. "What day is this wedding on? Saturday? The one I'm beating up an old man for." he grins, nudging you with his elbow. You acknowledge his gesture with a smirk. "Saturday, yeah. I plan on leaving as soon as they start dancing." your eyes widen, daydreaming and anticipating that moment of relaxation when you realize the job is over. "I can't wait to not have to hear about white chairs with tulle bows anymore." You look over at Jim to elaborate. "The chairs are what Jones is being a dick about. And this woman," you let out a sharp exhale of smoke,"Well she wants her damn chairs, I'll tell you that. They mean more to her than her actual marriage from how she acts." you gesture with your hands as you speak. "I have nightmares about this wedding, man." you mumble, "So much tulle..." you repeat, shuddering. Jim's face is full of amusement as you end your story and look back at him. "I can't wait for it to be over." "Well, after you've recovered, would you be interested in going out with me and doing something next week?" You fight the smile that threatens to give away your excitement. You act like you are making a decision, looking up at his face, you let the excited smile break through slightly. "Yeah, I'd be interested." you respond, tilting your head at him, you wrap your lips around your cigarette. He gives you the same smile back, mimicking your actions. His voice goes lower than you've heard it before, it rumbles through your body. "Then I'll be seeing you next week, sweetheart." he finishes his cigarette. "I'll call and we'll figure it out, no need to add more decisions for you to make right now." he turns back towards the building. "Unless you find another reason to come see me before then." he shoots you a knowing glance. You let the whole mischievous grin spread across your face as you finish your cigarette. "Maybe I will. You might be arresting me for assault if you can't get Jones to listen." you smirk and adjust your purse. "Well if you do, I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement." he answers very playfully, you bite the inside of your cheek in an attempt to hide a smile that reads way more than friendly. "I'm sure we can, Chief." you let out a small, low laugh as you turn to walk to your car. You wished there was a way to know if the tingling running over your skin was physical excitement or the reaction to the dark gaze Jim was giving your body as you walked away.

Jim kept his promise and took care of Mr. Jones for you. The climax of the job came and went, you went home and crashed, hard, months of overworking catching up with you. You woke up to your phone ringing. You look over at the alarm clock by your bed, 1:27 PM. "Ugh, shit." you groan, moving towards the phone on your nightstand. You had slept for over 12 hours. "Hello?" you answer, sleep still very heavy on your voice. "Wow, you really weren't lying about crashing afterward, were you?" the deep rumble of Jim's voice woke you up through the line. "No...no I wasn't," you answer, rubbing your eyes and yawning into the receiver. "I just woke up, sorry." you clear your throat, rolling over to your back. "What's up, Chief?" you ask, your voice sounding less like gravel. "I didn't mean to wake you up, sweetheart. I wanted to make sure I made plans with you like we discussed." "Mmm Hmm" you manage in response. "I'm game for whatever, Jim." you roll onto your side. "You wanna go out? You wanna stay in?" you spoke, giving him options. "You wanna do it tonight or when can you with work?" your brain was starting to function again. "Tonight would be great." You take a big stretch, hiding your noises from the receiver of the phone. "Let's do something with as close to 0 stress as possible." you suggest. "Does that exist?" he laughs. "Depends, what are your vices?" "Vices?" he asks. "Yeah, what do you do to relax?" "I'm afraid I'm not great at relaxing, sweetheart, you might have to take the lead on this one." he jokes, but you assume that's probably true. "Alright then, let me think for a minute." It's the first date, even though you know each other a little bit already. Don't want too casual, not formal and low stress. "Santino's on South?" you suggest, "I work with them on catering all the time, they're good people." "Can't say I've eaten there before." "It's good, there's a bar, it's not stuffy." you want to make sure he knows you aren't going into this expecting him to make a fuss over you. "Well, you've talked me into it." Not like he would disagree with anything you suggested at this point. ------------ You go out with Jim, it was as close to 0 stress as you could've gotten on a first date. Although a bit mouthy, as usual, he was a gentleman. You eat, you drink, you take your time, you flirt heavily. You end the date at your place, you part at your door after a promise to do this again soon. The period to the end of the date, a perfectly respectable, but lingering kiss. Your busy schedules make a second date come later and be shorter than either of you wanted. You only find time to go see a movie together, but horror movies always make for a great date in your opinion. Jim seems amused by your lack of fear while watching the movie, he finds you very charming. Wishing he didn't have to get back to work immediately after your, already short, date, he makes up for it with an intense kiss that bordered on making out before he parted from you. He later regrets this decision when he can't stop thinking about that small little moan you let out while he was kissing you. More time passes, it's always like you're both busy at the wrong times. The winter weather had moved in fast this year. You found yourself listening to the news, worried about getting out in this for your date. The phone rings. "Hello?" "Hey sweetheart." you hear Jim's apologetic voice over the line. "Evening, Chief." he gets straight to the point. "I'm afraid with this weather coming in, I don't want you out on the roads, even with me." he sounds like he dislikes this fact as much as you do. "Yeah I was thinking the same thing, unfortunately." you dramatically pout since he can't see you. "I'm sorry about this, sweetheart. I haven't had the chance to spend as much time with you as I'd like, I was looking forward to tonight." he speaks low, giving away his intention with his tone. You were really in need of some stress relief and you had hoped Jim might be the one to help you out with that tonight. "Well," you pause, trying to make sure the words came out like you meant them to, "Can you just come to my place instead?" you ask, no need to put on a front that you both aren't wanting the same thing at this point. "To your place?" his voice hints at the smile that must be on his face from your casual tone on a weighted suggestion. "Yeah," you respond confidently, although you spin the phone cord in your fingers, fidgeting. "That is, if you don't mind taking a chance on getting snowed in with me." you add flirtatiously, you hear him wet his lips. "I wouldn't mind that at all." he states factually, his tone deep and dark, you imagine his fingers rubbing over his mouth and chin at your forwardness. "I'm all stocked up and ready for the storm over here. I've got food, booze, and candles. All I'm missing is you." you sound like you're making a hard sell when he's already agreed. "You been missing me, sweetheart?" he bypasses your cute retort and goes straight for another flirtatious remark, with a tone to match. The rumble his words send across your skin, makes your thigh muscles tense. "I wouldn't be asking you to come over if I hadn't." you push back with a feminine but low tone of your own. You flip your hair back out of flirtatious habit. You hadn't gotten to see Jim as much as you'd wanted in past few weeks, but that didn't mean you hadn't been thinking about him.  You hear the closed mouth noise of amusement he makes against the receiver. "Then I'll be over later, after I finish up here." you can hear the fabric of his uniform rubbing against itself. "You know where to find me, Chief." you close in a playful tone. You let out a giggle at yourself after you hang up. You felt like being bent over the back of the couch as he walked in would be more subtle than the flirting you just did. You didn't mind the grin that pulled at the corners of your mouth that wouldn't go away, or the tingling across your skin when you'd slip into a daydream about his hands on you again. Your muscles ached with anticipation. You watched the snow falling outside from your window to soothe your impatience. The view of the far edge of town from your window was peaceful, no one was out, everyone huddled up for the incoming storm. The glass was painfully frigid under your fingers, your breath fogged the glass. At least you had everything you needed to ride out the storm, and now you had a man to ride it out with too. Another body would help once the electricity went out. You smiled and bit your lip, leaning on the window sill, lost in thought. Jim had made his way up to your door, he happened to try the doorknob before knocking and sure enough, you'd left it unlocked. He peaks through the door and see's you looking out a window, bent at the waist, your weight on one arm on the window sill. You were biting your nails, eyes not focused, but directed out into the street. "We just leaving our doors unlocked at night now?" he asks, his deep voice surprising you and making you jump. You turn towards him, your hand on your chest. "If you're watching for me, I parked on the other side of the street." he says, knocking his boots on the doorway. "I wasn't, I just like watching the storm," you explained, trying to regain your cool. "I was expecting you, so I left it unlocked in case I got busy and couldn't get to the door." "Uh huh." he says, his tongue pushing against his teeth in a taunting way, he might've believed you. "I have no reason to lie." you laugh and lay the throw you had around your shoulders on the couch, revealing the off the shoulder, oversized sweater you wore for the evening. It was warm and it had an option for showing a little leg and cleavage if you wanted. "You don't look very busy." he states. You tilt your head and narrow your eyes at him, giving him an entertained laugh. "I was cooking earlier-" you stop yourself quickly, turning to move around the couch towards him. "And you need to turn off this Chief talk." you scold him, hanging his jacket in the closet. "Enough with the cop interrogation tactics." you wave your hands in the air as you speak, you make your way to the kitchen, opening the fridge and motioning for him to join you. "What would Jim like to drink? Because that's who I wanted to hang out with tonight." you tease him, pushing his shoulder as he bends to look in the fridge. He side eyes you before reaching for a beer. Over the next few hours, you slowly break down that barrier Jim keeps up when he's in police mode. You stroke his ego, you feed and flirt, slowly closing the space between the two of you. You found yourself having fun, not just feeling like you were killing time before you decided to have sex. You'd gotten distracted by yet another story about your brother's younger hijinks from Jim when the storm knocks out the power. The electric whoosh of noise following the darkness falls over the town. You don't move for a few seconds. "You don't have to go deal with this do you?" you turn your face to him, sitting on the couch next to him, the low light from the windows creating blue shadows across your faces. "Nah, that's the power company's problem, sweetheart." you swallow and nod, glad he doesn't have to leave yet. You make your way to the window in your living room, pulling back the curtain to look out over the town, the moon reflecting off the snow-blanketed ground, illuminating everything with a gloomy sunshine. Your fingers start to sting on the glass, you withdraw to your kitchenette bench where you'd put your box of candles. You carry the lighter in your mouth, placing the candles all over your apartment, Jim has already risen to help. The last place you put the candles in, is your bedroom, you're moving things around to make sure you don't burn the place down when you hear Jim's heavy footsteps walk down the hall and stop in your doorway.

"These are the last of them." you say low, focusing on the fire in your fingers. You take a look around, the chill of the outside air starting to creep in the house already, the storm blowing is the only noise in the whole town. You let out a long sigh and put your hands on your hips, relaxing. "Something wrong?" Jim asks. You turn to him with wide eyes, surprised. "Oh, no. I've always liked when the electricity goes out." you motion to the lit corners of the room "The darkness, the silence, I just find it really relaxing." you let out another sigh, trying to lose your tension. "You're not worried about the storm?" he asks, moving farther into the room. You're looking out your window, distracted, the snow blows hard and fast, making your view look like television static. "No, not really." your flirty grin greets Jim, "Especially not with you here." you turn to him, shutting the curtain back. "And why's that?" he asks, moving slowly and intimidatingly towards you, you hold your ground as he pushes through your personal space. The floorboards creak, from the pressure of his steps, breaking the silence as he stalks closer. "Well," you pause, stopping to look up at him, just inches away from you. You let your fingers find and rest very lightly on top of his shirt buttons. "You'll keep me safe, won't' ya Chief?" you ask, your voice low, you suddenly don't want to play anymore. With dark eyes and a heavy brow, he walks you slowly back against one of the walls of your bedroom. "I don't think you invited me over here because you were worried about me keeping you safe, sweetheart." he implies, his hands finding their way to your hips. "Well, not exactly..." you pout, looking away, playing coy for a moment. You bring your gaze back up to meet his. "I have missed you, but, I invited you because I wanted to make sure we'd finally have time to fuck." you give him a self-assured smile, looking up through your lashes. His lips curl up devilishly into a smile. One of his hands moves across your lower back, pulling you close. The other hand slides up your body, from your hip, up between your breasts, onto your neck and behind your head. His fingers nesting into your hair in a fist at the base of your skull. His smile was making more than just your heart melt. "That's what I've been waiting to hear." he whispers as he seals the space between your bodies. He goes in hard, your body thudding against the cold wall. He pushes his weight against you, the hand in your hair he uses to control your head, baring your neck to him, he makes his way down it, his large hands start roaming through all the places you've wanted him to touch. He grabs your ass, moving to squeeze your waist before he whole hands your breast, pulling down the shoulder of your sweater to expose your skin to the cold air of the room. He finds your mouth again, your noses fight against each other as he messily kisses you. Your tounges moving together, your open mouths letting your rising noises escape when your bodies part. You have one leg hitched up, his hand grips your hip and thigh, holding it against him, he lands a firm open palm to your ass and groans. He wraps his arms around you, almost lifting you to turn your back against the bed, your calves bumping against the edge. His hands are on your hips, his fingers kneading into your flesh, he gives you a small push in the direction of the bed, you let yourself bounce onto it, torn away from his hypnotizing mouth. You see his hands go to take off his shirt, you take off your socks and peel away your sweater. You crawl up the bed, laid out and posed, waiting for him to join you, your fingers lazily run over the swell of your hips. The air is cool and the light low, the sky outside has been black for hours by now. The faint roar of the wind outside, the crackling of the candle wicks mingle in the silence to make everything feel more urgent. The quiet sounds of your wet mouths, your breathing, skin hitting skin, it all feels heightened on a night like this. He stops, his belt off and pants undone, shirt long gone, he palms himself for a moment, running his tongue over his bottom lip while he looks at you on the bed. You bite your lip and reach down to rub yourself over your panties as you watch him touch himself.  His large body slides almost on top of yours, the frantic motions of hands, his mouth moves along your shoulders and chest. Your chest is rising and falling fast, his mouth finds one of your nipples. You let out a small gasp as he sucks on you with a groan. His hand running back up and grabbing the bulk of your hips, pulling you closer. You bite your lip and watch as he sends waves of pleasure through your body. His fingers find your other nipple, mimicking the motions of his mouth. You squeeze your fingers in his hair, pushing his mouth against you as you moan. He looks up at you and through pursed lips, you breathe out, "Yes," you whine, "Fuck that's good." he closes his eyes and focuses, he continues to eagerly work your tits with his mouth and hands, tongue flicking and lips tugging as the ache between your thighs grows. You move one of his hands between your thighs, his eyes roll back and he moans into your breasts he feels the wetness that's already made it's way to the outside of your panties, you roll your hips against his hand. He lets out a dark laugh he disconnects from your nipple with a long lick of his tongue. He moves up to your neck, his mouth finding your ear. His hand is rubbing back and forth over your panties. "Look how wet you are for me." he says it like you've done something bad.   You wrap your arms around his shoulders and whimper out, "Mmm Hmm." as you move your chest and hips against his body. "You’ve been thinking about me doing this to you all day, haven't you?" he groans out, his hands roughly yanking your panties down your legs. You nod against him, moaning into his mouth as he starts to kiss you deeply again. "Mmm Hmm." you answer, all you could manage to say at this point, you nod and spread your legs as you kick the panties across the room. "I've been thinking about doing this to you too." he growls, his teeth biting your bottom lip, as he slides his fingers between your pussy lips, down across your clit, to your opening, just applying the lightest pressure before returning to stroke downwards again, your hips bucked every time his fingers would drag across your clit. You throbbed, swollen and sensitive, he made your lips tremble with every touch. "Fuck." you whine loudly, your head falling back as he stops to focus on your clit, his mouth on your ear, breathing steadily into it, matching the rapid rising and falling of your own chest. He continues until your panting against him. Your eyes cross as he pushes two of his large fingers completely into you. Your mouth drops open, you let out a shaky exhale followed by a sharp pitiful breath before letting out a guttural moan. He smirks against your skin. "You like that, baby?" he asks, his lips on the curve of your ear. He keeps steadily pumping his fingers into you, stretching and moving them inside you, making you gush. "Yes, fuck, more." you demand, fisting your hand into his hair. He lets out a low laugh, his lips start working on your throat. He reangles his arm, pushing into you with as much pressure as he can. He pounds his fingers into you, stopping to circle your clit with his thumb from time to time, you let out another moan, your back arching as your tits bounce with every thrust against you. You feel yourself getting lost in the pursuit of cumming on his fingers, but you're reminded of something you'd much rather have inside you as he presses himself against your thigh. He feels so hot and heavy through the fabric of his pants, you palm him as he works on your clit, he curses under his breath. "I'd rather have you pounding me with this." you instruct, pressing your lips against his ear, your tongue dragging across the edge. "Fuck, baby." He lets out a huff of breath as his mouth finds yours again, you're sliding your hands under the waist of his pants, he takes the hint and finally gets completely naked, leaning over your body, between your legs. Your skin against his is hot, covered in a thin veil of sweat, the cold outside long forgotten. His cock weighs on your lower stomach as he kisses you, hands back in each others hair, you feel him twitch as you moan against him. You reach between your bodies, slowly stroking his length against you while you rock your hips. He replaces your hand with his, he circles your clit with the head of his cock as he positions himself. You angle your hips, your legs already up and eager to wrap around him. He lines himself up with your entrance. He drops his upper body against yours, you feel him push against you as his lips work deliciously against your own. You make needy noises against him. "You ready for me, baby?" he asks as he leaves open mouth kisses down the side of your neck. "Yes, Hop, Please." you say in a breathy whisper between kisses, "Fuck me." you say in a whine as your head pushes against the pillow it laid on. With a hand wrapped around your thigh, he uses his grip on your hip to bring your two bodies together. As he slides deep into you, your mouth opens, a small squeak of a moan escapes as he pushes inside you completely. Your eyes shut as your head falls back, your body adjusting to him. A line of curses fall from your lips in the form of small moans. You feel his fingers clench around your thigh, his forehead pressed against your shoulder. He lets out a long exasperated groan at the feeling of you around him at last. "You feel so fucking good." he whispers, as he starts to move in and out of you. Your arms around his shoulders, you just listen to the sounds of both of your bodies breathing heavily, the small smacks and moans building. Your hands run down his chest as he raises up, holding your legs far apart at the knees, he pulls you by your hips, burying himself deeper inside. He closes his eyes, his lip between his teeth as he starts to fall into a rhythm, rubbing up against every sweet spot inside you. You're bouncing off of each other, he's focused as he continues to pound hard and steady into you. Your hands wander as you rise to meet his thrusts, you run your thumbs over your nipples as your tits bounce while he fucks you. You're writhing beneath him. He's making you give up the most pathetic and whiney moans as you feel your orgasm building in waves, making your skin prickle against the air. "Fuck, look at you..." he brings his weight onto one arm, straight out next to you on the bed. You raise your head back up towards him, his gaze is dark, his mouth set slightly agape while he runs his tongue over his teeth, watching you. Your mouth is parted and wet, your touching yourself, your hair falling around your face as he watches you fall apart underneath him. You hold his gaze, panting out praise as he fucks you even harder. "Yes, fuck, baby, yes." you cry out as his hands just barely touch your hardened nipples as they rub up against his rough hands from his thrusts. He's losing composer as he roughly grabs your breasts, using them as leverage as you start to pulse around him. "Fuck." he growls, closing the space between you when he feels you fluttering around him. You both fall back into sloppy, wet kisses as you move your hips against each other, moaning messes. His deep and steady pace make you start to shiver. "I'm close." you say between moans. He takes his hand to the side of your face so you look at him, but you turn your head and take his thumb into your mouth. He groans, giving you a few particularly rough thrusts as you suck on his thumb, it helps hold back your needful sounds, and drives Jim crazy. "God Dammit, baby." he breathes out heavily, his eyes closing for a moment, feeling you tighten around his cock from his words. He regains composure and uses his thumb to turn you towards him. "Look at me, sweetheart." he runs his thumb across your bottom lip as you moan around it. He feels you convulse around him again. He leans in, pushing his face into your neck, reaching between you and rubbing your clit as he finishes you off. "You gonna come for me?" he asks, his lips press against your skin. You arch against him, your body vibrating. "Yes. Fuck. Yes." you chant, your fingertips press into his broad shoulders as you let out one loud sudden cry before he starts kissing you, deeply through your orgasm. "That's it, come for me." he groans, feeling you crashing around him, he can't help but let go with you. With long fluid strokes, he comes inside you. You're both still coming down, mouths mashing against each other as you both keep swearing. He keeps lazily rocking into you until you've stopped shaking and he's gone soft, only then does he stop kissing you. You're dazed in the best way. You let your post-orgasm smile spread across your face as you both lay there looking at each other for a moment. He feels compelled to smile down at you. He admires how your soft skin seems to glow, and how the swell of your breasts pushed against him looked and felt. He pushes some of your hair back, looking you over while you do the same to him. He gives you a brief but soft kiss. He pulls away from you, falling into the bed next to you, you almost immediately shiver.  You get under the covers and Jim follows your lead. He doesn't object when you snuggle up to his chest, wiggling against him to warm up. You plant a kiss on his chest and rest yourself against his warm body. You feel like you're being watched and open your eyes to see Jim looking you over as he runs his hand lazily up and down your back and hips. "You're gorgeous, you know that?" he asks, leaning in and giving you another kiss. He makes a satisfied hum and tightens his grip on you, placing his head on top of yours. You let out a small squeak of a yawn and he laughs. "Tired there, babe?" he asks, his hand caressing the side of your face. "Mmm Hmm" you nod. "I always fall asleep after a good orgasm." you state, snuggling into the warm softness of the bed and his body. "And that was an amazing one." you add softly. He chuckles to himself. "I'm gonna fall asleep, Hop." you look up at him, "I'd prefer if you stayed but, I also won't be offended if you don't." you say, laying back down and getting comfy. "I didn't plan on going anywhere." he pulls the covers up over you both and lets you get settled. "Good. That means we get to do this again before you leave." you mumble happily, sleep and sex making it so you didn't care to show that you liked Jim and wanted him to stay around. "Whenever that is, with this storm." he pauses, looking out the window, "I don't care how bad it gets if it means we finally got to do this." he lets himself settle against you. "It only took an act of nature to make it happen." you joke, a smile still reading on your face despite your closeness to falling asleep. You fade fast, between the exertion and the rise and fall of Jim's chest, you can't fight the sleep off, no matter how much you were enjoying the first indulgent post-sex moment between the two of you.

My Masterlist.

[hook-on-fandoms]

Sara from Lot for the ten headcanons

1) She knows she can’t change history to save Laurel. She hates it but she has accepted it. But if there ever comes an opportunity to do so that doesn’t involve changing history or the pit because that blood lust was something she (Sara) could handle but not something she would want to do to Laurel. She does want her sister back but not at the price of her sister’s peace.

2) When they aren’t in the middle of a mission and the others are getting too much Sara will put Jax in charge for a bit and go visit Nyssa for a bit (post disbanding the league Nyssa). No matter how much time goes by they still care for each other. And just spending some time together helps balance them both whether it be sparing, dinner, or just being with the other. 

3) As stated with Jax the two of them have their weekly captain/2nd in command meetings when missions allow where they review seriously for an hour than watch Team bloopers/I can’t believe this is our team video courtesy of Gideon with a few drinks to decompress.

4) After a while Sara grabbed ice cream of what she guessed Zari’s favorite flavor would be along with a gallon of her own and knocked on her door. She handed Zari hers and then offered to listen as she talked about her brother. Sara offered to talk about Laurel too if it made it more manageable. They meet up whenever one or the other is especially down about this.

5) Sara has a regular training session that is open to everyone that wants training. Zari and Amaya are the only ones that regularly take her up on it. After finding out he might not have Firestorm powers soon Jax stops by every once in a while, but mostly it’s just those three and they are really thankful though don’t mind Jax joining.

6) Sara and Mick do sneak out every blue moon or so to go to a more of a biker bar than a Ray bar. It reminds them of the past when things were simpler and bask in the simpliness.

7) Sara also has not so voluntary training sessions at different times for whenever the team isn’t behaving. Not everyone has to go just anyone that did anything that wasn’t just stupid but ah NO. Offenses that get you this mandatory training session with Sara include but are not limited to “Guy talk” (performed by guy or gal), putting your team in danger, maliciously trying to hurt someone with your words (revealing something they shouldn’t know to hurt them, talk down to them outside of friend/sibling rifting that all involved find within tolerable, etc. You don’t want to be in those sessions. Even when powers are allowed you loose and she only allows powers long enough to show they aren’t gonna do you any good.

8) On nights when neither Ray and Sara can sleep they both just sit in the kitchen with some hot coco and just talk about Star City and everyone that was left there and everything that happened. Ray talks about loosing his fiance and Sara talks about dying. They both talk about what they suffered due to Damien (this gets especially true with Damien back again). What it is like having to stomach working with someone that has caused so much harm to you or those around you very recently and how with all the messes up on this team it is nice that isn’t something they have to deal with on the long term here.

9) Sara never drinks a drop of alcohol on Laurel’s birthday and death day. Laurel couldn’t and wouldn’t so Sara doesn’t in her memory.

10) One day while Sara and Jax were having their meeting Sara asked when did they become the parents to a bunch of children that are mostly older than them. Jax replied that he had no idea what she was talking about. When Sara raised an eyebrow at him as Gideon played a video of them having to break up a fight between a bunch of their children Jax continued: They are ALL older than me as long as you are going years alive and not by birth date. Sara chuckled and they cheersed to that.

[chaz-targrin-gw2]

Targrin, Act 5: Induction

(Well, it’s been a fun few weeks sharing these stories to you, but the Targrin arc is almost at an end! Following a disastrous night out at Redreave Mill, Chaz and the Grins - @pocket-raptor​‘s Maurus and Atlas, and @murellow-farts​‘ Clovis - hit the bar to decompress. Thanks for sticking with me through this story series!)

NAVIGATION: <- Previous Chapter | This is the final chapter!

Targrin, Act 5: Induction

1329 AE, Black Citadel, Ascalon

(An hour after the events of Act 4)

The Grins’ legionnaire was enjoying a quiet night to himself at the bar. Wait… was it night? How long had he been… Whatever, it was dark out, most of the other patrons had left, he had some peace and quiet to himself for now, he might as well enjoy-

“EY, Bossman!” the voice almost resonated throughout the tavern.

The legionnaire turned his head just slightly, he didn’t need to look to figure out who owned that voice. “…Atlas. What brings you here at… What time is it?”

“Good morning to you too, sir.” Atlas chuckled, taking a seat at the bar, as Maurus followed closely behind. “Nice timing, we have some news! I was gonna save it for tomorrow but while we’re here…”

“It had better be damn good news, I’m on my last drink for the night, I don’t have the cash for any… actually scratch that, it had better be damn okay news, I’m not buying you lot drinks to celebrate.”

“Not to worry, I’m already buying a round for three other folks, I can buy one for you too.”

The legionnaire cracked a smile. “Alright, if ‘free drinks’ is the news, I’m happy to… “ He paused, counting the heads unsteadily. “Wait. Three other folks? There’s just you and Maurus, and Maurus and…  and Maurus.”

“Hang on, hang on, I’m the one you’re supposed to be seeing three of!” came another voice from the doorway. Clovis trotted in, with Chaz tagging along behind her.

The legionnaire looked back at Atlas and Maurus. “…Oh right, you, Maurus and Clovis. And… who’s he?”

Clovis put her hand on Chaz’s shoulder and shook them excitedly, which elicited a pained squeak from the smaller charr. “We looted a potential ‘bandmate!”

Atlas shook his head. “Nonono, that’s, uh. We have someone who wants to join our warband.”

“Hah!” the legionnaire scoffed. “That’s a new one. Someone actually volunteering to join this bunch?”

Clovis gently nudged Chaz towards the bar. The legionnaire rubbed his eyes and took a closer look. “…He’s got no claws. He’s so small. How old is he?”

“They,” Clovis started, making a point to correct the legionnaire, “turn twenty-six next month. I know they look small and soft and cuddly, and that’s… because they are, but you can check in with Tribune Goreblade yourself, they’re twenty-five, they’ve been registered as a gladium for a few months, and they were keen on joining us.”

Chaz finally spoke up, raising a nubby paw-hand. “Y…yes. Is it alright if I join your warband, sir?” They squirmed a bit, struggling to get up onto the barstool next to the legionnaire. They yawned a bit, looking over at the bartender. “Uh, I’ll have an amber ale. Please.”

The Legionnaire was taken aback, and tried to maintain a more professional tone of voice, despite being fairly drunk. “…If… If what Clovis is saying is right, you’re a bit older than the others. …You’re not in trouble for anything, are you?”

Chaz looked back towards the legionnaire, looking unsure. “I… don’t know? If it hadn’t been for Atlas I’d probably be in the stockades instead of the tavern right now. But once word gets out of what happened I doubt very many warbands will want me.”

Confused, the legionnaire looked to the other Grins for further explanation.

“We might’ve been over at the Redreave Mill. I was showcasing their combat prowess to a few other legionnaires, in the hopes of getting them into a warband. They’re a crack shot with the rifle, you should’ve seen them in action. They used a wounded Separatist as bait to lure out others and take ‘em out. They even made one’s head explode!”

“Really? This lil fella? I doubt he- …they… know how to hold a rifle.” The legionnaire scoffed, moving to pat Chaz on the shoulder.

Chaz huffed a bit, and took a swig of their ale. “Atlas, do you still have that rifle?”

“Uh… yeah, here. It’s not loaded.” He walked around and handed Chaz the rickety, bandaged-up rifle. Chaz took it gently, holding it up to their shoulder in a firing stance, finger off of the trigger.

“Well, there’s no scope on this, so I wouldn’t be able to trajectorize as easily… it’s also in really poor shape, unsurprising, given the last owner was a bastard…” A brief pause, Chaz lowered the rifle from their shoulder, shook it gently, then quickly pulled back the bolt, a slightly rusted bullet springing out of the magazine and landing on the floor with an audible ‘clink’. “…The bolt-action’s sticking with me a bit… oh, and it was loaded, but it’s empty now, thank you Atlas.” They held the rifle back out to him.

Atlas coughed, slightly embarrassed. “You can hold onto it. You seem to know your way around that thing better than I do, I nearly shot Maurus with it.”

“Oi!” Maurus grumped, glaring at Atlas. “I’ve had enough of that for one morning.”

“I stand firmly corrected,” the legionnaire grumped. “So why… what happened that the other bands won’t take you?”

“I nearly shot Maurus,” Chaz mumbled.

“They nearly shot Maurus,” Atlas and Clovis chimed in.

“They nearly shot me,” Maurus confirmed, giving Atlas another glare. “In that case though it was partly my fault.”

“Okay… Okay back up a little bit, I’m gonna need more information on that. What happened?”

“Well,” Maurus coughed, “I might have walked down into an active firing range without warning the shooter - that’d be Chaz.”

“Yeah,” Atlas countered, “But when I realised you were going down that way I tried to warn Chaz, and they were…”

“I was lost,” Chaz piped up, finishing Atlas’ sentence, “I’d assumed everything I was aiming at was… was a… I mean, it wasn’t until Atlas knocked me off of the mounted rifle that I realised what had almost happened.”

The legionnaire nodded, humming pensively. “So… you’re a good sniper but you have difficulty differentiating targets? You had your eyes tested recently?”

“Eyesight’s fine, it’s just… I mean… I was sort of taken by a strange mood… like… I just saw… I…” They started stammering again, taking slow, shaky breaths.

“They’re suffering from battle fatigue, sir,” Atlas piped up, putting a hand on Chaz’s shoulder gently to try and help them calm down. “We never got around to explaining where we found them.”

The Legionnaire tilted his head. “Clovis said something about looting a ‘bandmate but aside from that, no, you haven’t explained yet.”

“Alright, well you remember a couple of weeks ago you asked us to go over to Ebonhawke and fuck about with some Separatists?”

“‘Disrupt Separatist activity in and around Ebonhawke’ was the official order, soldier. But yes, I left it to you three to decide how to proceed.”

Atlas leaned over, whispering to Chaz. “See what I mean?” No response. “…Sorry.”

“I haven’t gotten your report back about that yet, by the way, how’d that go?”

“Well, we discovered a makeshift Separatist camp up in the Sniper’s Woods, and Clovis suggested we loot the place after trashing it.”

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but good work. Gave those bastards a run for their money, yeah?”

“Yessir,” Atlas nodded, “While we were looting the place we found Chaz here. They were kind of… messed up when we got to them. They’d been tortured, used as bait to lure other Charr into a trap.” Still no response from Chaz, who was staring off into the distance, shivering. Atlas squeezed their shoulder gently. “C’mon Chaz, stay with us, you’re safe here.”

The Legionnaire huffed. “And you say they lost their warband?”

Atlas nodded grimly, still trying to help Chaz keep it together, “Yessir. This is Chaz Tarbound, from the Tar Warband, Iron Legion. They were in the area helping the humans with construction efforts, when they were ambushed by Separatists.”

“I see.” The legionnaire looked over to Chaz, his expression softened a little. “I’ve heard of Tar’s efforts around Ascalon, as well as their revolutionary turrets that were deployed in Orr. Deepest condolences, soldier. We’ll head out to the Plaza of Remembrance and raise a toast to them later. …They have been memorialized, yes?”

Chaz shivered a little, sniffling. They lowered their head, shoulders slumped, looking physically overburdened with guilt. That was as much an answer as the Legionnaire needed, and he frowned.

Eager to break the awkward silence, Atlas stood up. “Clovis, Maurus, keep an eye on Chaz, yeah? Make sure they get some food and drink in them, they could use something good right about now.” Atlas looked over to the legionnaire, and jerked his head in the direction of a spot away from the bar. “A word, sir?” The legionnaire nodded slowly, and followed Atlas over.

“So it’s… pretty bad, huh?” the legionnaire gruffed, once the two were out of earshot.

“That’s the thing, we’d rehearsed this marksmanship demonstration before and Chaz was perfectly fine - They’re an amazing shot, they’ve got some self-doubt about their abilities but they’re really good. That said, the reason they’re here is kind of… my fault. I guess I underestimated what the Separatists had done to them emotionally.”

“So after they suffered so much at the hands of Separatists, you figured the best thing to do was expose them to more Separatists.”

“Yeah, that was… a mistake. I figured they could be done with some revenge, but they sort of… lost themselves, kind of like what’s happening right now. You can probably see why the other warbands won’t take them.”

“I see… I think I might have an idea of where this one could be useful.”

“Oh thank fuck, because I’ve been running on fumes for the past few minutes and I’m fresh out of ideas.”

“Not to worry,” the legionnaire chuckled, heading back over to check on Chaz, who had buried their head in their arms, hiccuping quietly. “Clovis, Maurus, How’s our new member holding up?”

“I dunno,” Maurus shrugged, “We got them talking again and things seemed fine, but then they just broke down sobbing and apologising over and over. Maybe giving them booze right now was a bad idea?”

Clovis had a hand on Chaz’s shoulder, giving them a reassuring rub. “Nahhhh, I think loosening the valve on the waterworks is helping… Wait, did you just say ‘new member’?” She looked up at the Legionnaire and then back down at Chaz, whose head slowly lifted back up - they were a sight for sore eyes after all that crying, but they looked as surprised as the others did.

“Well, not officially yet, but I’ll be getting in touch with Tribune Goreblade to let him know I’m recruiting Chaz here into our ranks. I just wanted to ask you something first, Chaz, and I understand if it’s hard to answer.”

Chaz sniffled and hiccuped a bit more, but nodded. “Y-yes, sir?”

“When you were in Tar Warband, what were your off-field duties?”

Some confusion from Chaz. “What do you mean off-field?”

“Anything you did back at your barracks, stuff that doesn’t involve building or sharpshooting. Both are valuable skills, of course, I just wanted to know what else you did.”

“Oh! Umm… I helped take stock of our supplies, wrote up requisitions for more materials when we needed them… Desk jobs, paperwork and bureaucracy really.”

“Ahh, yes,” the legionnaire chuckled. “The eternal battle to get through all of that red tape, right?”

“Actually, if I’m to be honest, I kind of enjoyed that side of the work.” Chaz laughed lightly, still sniffling.

The Grins looked at each other, and then to their Legionnaire, sharing an expression that was summed up by the Legionnaire’s next word: “…What.”

“…What?” Chaz tilted their head. “It was nice. It was actually… kind of relaxing after a long day of marching and carrying stuff back and forth, or after my guard shifts with the rifle. Actually made me feel kind of important, too. With a bit of know-how and a few strokes of a pen, I could get anything you need delivered to you in good time.”

Yet another flabbergasted look shared between the rest of the Charr. “You… you’d actually be happy to do our paperwork for us? Shit, what have I been drinking?”

“You’ve been drinking my wallet dry,” Atlas snarked, as he forked out the change for another round of drinks.

Wiping the tears away from their face, Chaz smiled, a soft, heart-melting smile. “If… if that’s what your warband needs, I’d be more than happy to help out.”

“Well then, I’d be more than happy to-”

“Wait, wait, I’m not finished,” Chaz interrupted, that adorable little smile spreading a bit further into an expression of unbridled gratitude, “Your warband saved my life. They did their best to help me find a new warband. You offered to take me in when nobody else would.”

“It’s nothing, really, we just-”

“I can do a lot more than just handle your paperwork for you. What if I told you I’d be willing to go the extra mile?”

The legionnaire blinked. “…Go on.”

“Oh, it’s nothing major, just that you mentioned having difficulty with red tape?”

“Yes?”

“It so happens that over the three years I served with Tar, one of my old bandmates taught me a few tricks to cut through the bureaucratic crap, save time, save money, you know.” Without even changing their expression, they lowered their voice just so the barkeep wouldn’t hear. “…Exploiting loopholes, basically.” A wink to seal the deal.

The legionnaire, still trying to process this all, approached Chaz, sitting back down at the bar and taking another swig of booze. “I’m still convinced I’m drunk and imagining all of this, but… welcome to the Grin warband, soldier. Better to get that out of the way now than later when I’m hung over.”

A chuckle between the Grins.

“And don’t worry, I’m not just shuffling you into a desk job. You may still perform field work with the other Grins, and I’d recommend it so you can keep your marksmanship in practice, but you are under no pressure to do so.”

“Thank you, sir. I think as long as I have someone keeping an eye on me I’ll be fine.” Chaz nods, having finally calmed down and cheered up.

“There is one other matter we need to see to before I wrap up this impromptu meeting,” the legionnaire continued. “Your name. You’re a Grin now, have you thought of a name for yourself?”

“Uhh… “ Chaz pondered.

“Bluntgrin, ‘cause you’ve got no claws!” Clovis offered.

“Grinbolt, because you’re damn good with that bolt-action rifle,” Atlas pondered.

“Pengrin, if you’re as good at tackling paperwork as you say,” Maurus mused.

Chaz shook his head. “No, no… I can’t make up my mind… argh.” They tapped their temple a bit. “C’mon, Chaz, think…”

“Targrin,” the Legionnaire stated flatly, much to Chaz’s surprise. “Your old warband clearly meant a lot to you,” he explained, “When you talked about your time working with them earlier, you looked… happy. It’s a bloody shame the Tribune hasn’t memorialized them in the Plaza, so the least I can do is let you carry their name with you. If you want, no pressure.”

“I… yeah.” Chaz looked down at the floor. “Ever since the day I lost them, it hurts… far more than any blade or bullet. But when I think about the time I spent working with them, it…” They sniff a bit again. “It’s nice.”

“Hey hey hey, I didn’t mean to start up the waterworks again.”

“No, no, it’s alright.”

“Give it a try. Repeat after me. ‘Hello, My name is Chaz Targrin’.”

“H-hello. My name is Chaz… Targrin.”

“Again.”

“Hello, my name is Chaz Targrin.” A chuckle. “It’s got a ring to it.”

“Once more!”

“Hello! My name is Chaz Targrin!” he laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I like it!”

The Grins cheered, and rose a mug in toast to their new bandmate… Much to the misery of Atlas’ wallet.