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floating-mid-air · 3 years ago

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The Princess of all Saiyans

Masterlist

😬😬😬 So, has it been five months already? I swear I'm so inconstant. At first, it was just procrastination, and then it turned into a bad case of writer's block. So now, no more promises because I know I probably won't be able to keep them.

The flashback in this chapter is the continuation of a flashback from chapter 6. So I'd recommend going back and reading that for more context. Or maybe even the entire story since it's been so long.

Also, Thank you for 100 Followers! I did hit this a while ago, but I still want to say thanks. It's crazy to me that so many people are interested enough in my writing to want to keep up with me. And as always, my Dm's/ comments are always open if you have any comments, questions, or concerns.

Chapter 12

Goku looks down at you, hours have passed, and you're still fast asleep in his arms. He'd like to say this is the most peaceful he's ever seen you, but that just wouldn't be true. A scowl is still painted on your features, though it's much softer than normal. Goku can't help but relate to the male protagonist of one of those cheesy rom-coms that Bulma made him watch. Every time he looks down at that grouchy look on your face, he can't help but smile.

These feelings are very new to the naive Saiyan. Sure, he cared for his late wife, but he never felt this way towards her. Every time he looks at you, he feels this rush of adrenalin, the same rush Goku only believed he could get from battle.

"Be careful there, Kakarot. If you keep staring at Y/N, you'll trip over your own feet." The harsh voice startles Goku, causing him to jump slightly. Goku turns his head, meeting his brother's gaze. An arrogant smirk danced on Raditz's lips. The larger Saiyan looks as if he's just won the lottery, catching his brother in the act of staring at you like a love-sick puppy. "You know you were starting to hurt my feelings, Kakarot." That self-satisfied grin remains plastered on his face. "I called your name around three times, and you didn't answer me once."

"Oh. Sorry, Raditz. I was just--- distracted."

Raditz snickers, shaking his head. If this were anyone else, he'd be convinced they were just trying to save their own ass. But his little brother is so un-self-aware that he wholeheartedly believes that Goku hasn't even realized that he's been staring at you for over an hour. "You know Kakarot." Raditz moves closer to Goku, lowering his voice to a whisper. "You might want to be a bit more subtle. In fact, you're lucky Vegeta hasn't picked up on your little crush yet."

To anyone from the outside observing, it would seem that Raditz's warning went in one ear and out the other. But that was far from the case. Goku can't help but be hung up on one of the words Raditz used. A crush, is that what these bizarre feelings he has for you are called? Is that why whenever you yell at him, he can't help but feel all warm and fuzzy inside? Man, finding out that he was an alien was much less confusing than these strange emotions.

"Hey, Raditz." Goku turns his head back towards his brother. "I have a question. How long have you known Y/N for?"

Raditz squints his eyes, furrowing his brows. It feels like he's known you for an eternity now, and it's honestly hard for him to remember a time when he hasn't been by your side. "We were children. I wanna say I met her when I was around three. What's with the sudden curiosity about my personal life?"

Goku can't help but wonder about what his life on planet Vegeta would've been like. If he were to have been raised as a Saiyan, how different would he be? Would he have met you earlier? Would you like him better if he had grown up on your planet? "I'm just wondering how you met. From the way Vegeta and Y/N both talk. It seems that social class was important on planet Vegeta. And earlier, Y/N called you a "second class runt," so it doesn't make a lot of sense." Goku's not usually that perceptive. Maybe you just bring it out in him.

"The only reason I met the Princess was because she found me intriguing." Goku furrows his brows at Raditz. You actively use his lower status as an insult, so why would that in any way fascinate you? "You know how I call you a third-class runt?" He nods, though he still doesn't quite understand what Raditz is getting at. "Our parents also belonged to the same class as you. And genetically speaking, we come from a long line of third-class Saiyans. When I was born, my power level exceeded the typical third-class rank. So they decided to bump me up a tier. That's what Y/N found fascinating about me. The same weak genetics as our ancestors. The same environment, and yet, somehow, I was much more powerful. And Y/N wanted to know why."

Raditz looks off into the distance as if he remembered a fond memory. "You know, out of all the elite warriors she could've chosen to accompany her on her big off-planet mission for Frieza, she picked me." That is the reason Raditz was off-planet when Frieza slaughtered your people, solely because you chose him. You wanted to see how far you could push his abilities, how much stronger he could get. And somewhere along the way, you learned to deeply care for Raditz, though you'd never tell him that to his face.

Your eyes flutter open as you let out a faint yawn. You move your hands to your eyes, rubbing them gently. "Why the fuck are you both so loud?" Your groggy voice invades their ears.

"Oh." Goku chuckles sheepishly, looking down at you. "Sorry, Y/N." He can't even hide the way his lips curve upwards as he looks at you. Your eyes are narrow, almost as if you're still half-asleep.

You groan, nuzzling your head into Goku's chest. In your half-awake state, you don't even notice what you've just done. It's like your brain has turned into mush, and you're acting on pure instinct. And you're not the only one affected by your abnormal behavior. As soon as your face made contact with Goku's chest, his posture instantly stiffened. His eyes-widening, he never believed you'd ever get this close to him, and now all he can hear is the rapid thumping in his chest. It's amusing how ignorant you both are to the way you affect each other.

"How long have I been out for?" You mumble into Goku's chest.

"A little over an hour."

Your eyes widen, quickly pulling your head away from Goku's body. "What?" You shout.

Raditz chuckles to himself. It's good to see you returning to your regular self. "Relax, sleeping beauty. You haven't missed anything exciting." Raditz moves closer to you and Goku, placing his hand on your forehead. "You're fever's gone down. And your complexion has returned to normal."

"Do I have a clean bill of health, doc?"

Before Raditz can even answer, Vegeta pushes the taller Saiayn out of the way. He places his hand on your forehead, in the exact spot Raditz's had been only moments before. Vegeta snickers, removing his hand. "Well, looks like Raditz was right about something for once. I suppose there's a first time for everything." Vegeta shifts his gaze to the area of your injury, lifting up your armor. "And looks like your body managed to fight off that nasty infection." Your brother looks up, his eyes locking with your own. "But don't think that means you have clearance to fight. You're still injured--- which means you're a liability."

Krillin and Gohan stare at the group of full-blooded Saiyan's, their brows furrowed in confusion. "D-Did you just say she fought off the infection? Don't you need antibiotics for that?" You'd think Krillin would be less shocked by the differences between Saiayns and humans at this point.

"Is that how humans battle infections?" Raditz chuckles mockingly. "What weak creatures. How has your species survived for so long?"

"Hold on. So you're telling me. That with a little rest, a Saiyan can fight off an infection in just over an hour. That's insane." Krillin can't help but feel intimidated by the Saiyans. Sure, he has his friend Goku on his side, but the human still views the rest of you as a threat. Even Raditz. Krillin can see Goku's brother betraying them at any moment. "So why was Vegeta acting like Y/N having an infection was the end of the world?"

Vegeta snaps his head towards the sole human, his eyes narrowing at Krillin. If looks could kill, Krillin would already be six feet under. "Care to repeat yourself, you pathetic earthling?"

Krillin's eyes bug out as he shakes his head rapidly. "What I meant to say---- is Y/N should be more careful."

You snarl, glaring at Krillin. "You wanna come over here and say that to my face, human?"

Krillin looks between you and Vegeta, identical scowls present on both of your faces. And unfortunately for Krillin, your anger is directed solely on him. "There's no winning here." The man mutters to himself.

"Ya." Raditz beams. It's pleasant for him to see someone else as the target of yours and Vegeta's collective wrath for once. "That's something you learn pretty early on with Vegeta and Y/N."

Much to the shock of those around you, you turn, your attention shifting on Vegeta. "I'm sure no one has opposed you up until now. So what is your great plan, Vegeta?" Sarcasm drips from your voice. It's clear to you that Vegeta has had the group walking for hours without disclosing your final destination.

Vegeta scoffs. "Mind your place. Little sister."

You narrow your eyes at him, jumping out of Kakarot's arms. For a moment, you had forgotten you were in that vile position. Lounging in the arms of such an idiotic creature. You move closer to Vegeta, straightening out your posture, much like you would do in war meetings back on planet Vegeta. For once, you mean business.

"This is me knowing my place." You scoff right back at him, getting in his face. "You know what I think. The great Prince Vegeta doesn't have a plan, and you're just too much of a coward to admit it." Of course, you know your brother has a plan, and you're baiting him. And by the expression on Vegeta's face, he's fallen right into your trap.

"Of course, I have a plan." He admits a low growl at your baseless accusations. "We're tracking Ginyu. That was the original plan, and we're adhering to it." Hook, line, and sinker. You got him.

You shake your head at him, chuckling to yourself. "Oh, big brother. You've officially lost your mind." Sure, searching out Ginyu was your original plan, but circumstances have changed. Enough time has passed that the captain has surely been reunited with Frieza by now. Or he's close enough that he can contact Freiza for his assistance. It's too risky, and Vegeta knows this. "You've had a lot of bad ideas, but this one takes the cake."

Your four companions observe you. Identical looks of panic on their features, except for Raditz. He's seen more explosive arguments between you two. One's that have ended in the destruction of planets. Krillin turns to the largest Saiyan, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Should we get involved?"

Raditz shakes his head in disagreement, though his gaze remains glued on your fight. "Not unless you desire to be added to their long list of victims. Now keep your mouth shut, and be thankful that they've moved on from you."

The standoff between you and Vegeta isn't even close to coming to a conclusion yet. In fact, it's only become tenser. If this were a cartoon, steam would be emitting out of Vegeta's ears. "The idiot who got herself injured shouldn't be one to criticize."

"Ya? Well, the only reason you're in one piece right now is because of those magic beans. Without them, you'd have one foot in the grave."

"They're called Senzu beans!" You can hear Goku shout from the background.

You turn your head towards him. "Who gives a damn what they're called!" You're attention lands back on your brother. You're gonna push Vegeta as far as you can, and the best way to do that is by, you guessed it. Challenging the one thing that a Saiyan holds dear, their pride. "If you couldn't handle Recoome, what makes you think you're even remotely worthy of collectively taking on both Ginyu and Frieza!"

"That battle made me stronger!"

"But not nearly strong enough! Ginyu is one hundred times the fighter Recoome was. And Lord Frieza. He's on an entirely different scale!" You run your hands through your hair, and this conversation is starting to give you a splitting headache. "God, Vegeta, Your arrogance is boundless!"

"Please." Your brother scoffs. "Don't act like you've had any first-hand experience with Frieza. I handled all of that! Because much like now you're just a scared little girl!" If only Vegeta knew how wrong he truly was. You've had plenty of first-hand experience with the menace, and not a single encounter is associated with a positive memory.

"Fine." You look down, shutting your eyes. "But I'll be sure to tell you I told you so when we get to hell." You distance yourself from your brother. The fire in your eyes has disappeared, that typical aloof, almost numb expression returning to your features. Vegeta had struck a nerve, but not the one he intended.

"What are you all standing around for?" Vegeta shouts. "Let's go! We don't have time for this!" And with that, you continue on your excruciating journey to your inevitable deaths.

Twenty-something years ago:

After you had made a mockery out of Cui's Blue counterpart, they finally granted you your request for communication with Lord Frieza. Your interaction with him was brief and incredibly underwhelming. He just repeated the same bullshit his minions have been spewing at you for weeks on end.

After this encounter, you quickly came to an understanding. Threats will get you nowhere. In fact, running your mouth would only assure that you'd never see Vegeta again. As a Saiyan child growing up on Planet Vegeta, you were taught from a very young age that any type of conflict; you could get out of by using your fists. Well, not this time. You can't talk your way out of Frieza's clutches, and you sure as hell can't fight your way out either. You're trapped. No matter what you do, you can't escape the waves of helplessness that you're drowning in.

Your outburst had only led Lord Frieza to punish you. He sent you and Raditz off to an even more remote and secure outpost. And that's when everything took a drastic turn for the worst. Your first night on that ship is when your own personal hell began.

You arrived on the new ship in the afternoon, your behavior no different from before. You're on edge. If a pin were to drop, you'd be the first to hear it. You and Raditz spent your entire evening familiarizing yourselves with the new area. Every exit is surrounded by guards, and the windows are all sealed off. This ship is like a prison, and there's no chance of escape.

Frieza's lackeys sent you to bed early. No, surprises there. They love to act all high and mighty. You'll bring them down to their knees one day, and you'll decorate the halls of this ship with their entrails. You don't even long for freedom anymore. You just want your big brother.

You're escorted and then quickly locked in your room, or as you like to call it, your cell. You and Raditz exchange no words. In fact, you haven't spoken since you arrived on this new ship. You sit on your bed, bringing your hands to the sides of your head, grabbing handfuls of your hair. You yank your hair, desperately wanting to feel anything other than fear at this moment.

You let out a shriek of desperation, pulling your necklace out of your armor. You toss it across the room, just barely missing Raditz's head. You move your hands to your face, covering it entirely. You rock back and forth as you begin to hyperventilate. The next thing you know, there's a hand placed on your shoulder. "Princess?"

"Don't call me that." You snarl. "I'm not a princess--- not anymore."

"Yes, you are. You're the Princess of all Saiyans."

"Oh, you mean the princess of the dead!" You remove your hands from your face. "Princess of the deceased!"

Raditz looks into your watery eyes, ignoring your tear-stained cheeks. "You're my princess. Even if we're the last two Saiyan's alive. You'll always be my princess." He takes your smaller hand in his, placing your necklace back in your palm, clasping your hand into a fist. Raditz stands back up, moving to his own bed. You lay down, facing the blank wall. You're not exactly sure when you fell asleep, but you did.

You awoke in the middle of the night, a chill running down your spine. Something's wrong. You shoot up in your bed, your eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness. "Raditz?" You shift your gaze over to his bed, only for you to find it empty. "What the hell?" You jump to your feet, desperately looking around the room for a sign of the larger Saiyan. Raditz would never leave your side on his own accord. You clench your fists, trying to keep your composure. Frieza's neanderthals must have taken him.

You move over to the door, grasping the door handle. Much to your surprise, it's not locked. There's only one explanation, those vermin want you to leave the room. The guards on this ship are a lot of things, but they definitely arent stupid. You step into the hallway, taking a deep breath, attempting to gather the courage to move further. Frieza's taken away your planet, your people, your father, and your brother. You can't let him. No, you won't let him take Raditz away from you too.

You strut down the halls of the ship. Your father taught you from a very young age to never show the enemy fear. You refuse to give them that satisfaction. By this point, you've checked most of the ship for your companion. But you haven't seen anyone, not even a lousy guard. You're growing tired of this elaborate game of hide and seek.

You pause for a moment, snapping your eyes shut. If your sight is failing you, maybe one of your other senses will have better luck. The sound of faint whispering invades your ears. Your eyes shoot open as you dart towards the direction of the noise.

You arrive at the training room, the doors are wide open. Your eyes land on Raditz, and you feel physically ill. His right eye is swollen shut, and his face is battered worse than you've ever seen. Sure, you've committed some cruel sins in your life. But this isn't just cruel. It's torture.

You step into the room, attempting to remain composed. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" You try to mask the shaking of your voice, but that only seems to make your distress more noticeable to Frieza's dogs.

"Oh, look." One of the aliens turns to you, an eerie grin spreading across his features. "The princess has finally decided to grace us with her presence." You take a few more steps into the room, but you're quickly stopped by the same alien holding up his hand. "Not another step unless you want Dadoria to snap your little bodyguard in half."

You freeze, darting your eyes over to the pink blob. Dadoria's holding Raditz by the neck. Frieza's not fucking around. You know for a fact that Dadaoria is one of Frieza's right hands. If the circumstances were different, you'd be flattered. Dose Lord Frieza actually think you're a threat to him? Or does he just want to turn you into one of his submissive henchmen? You move your head upwards, locking eyes with the head alien. You refuse to show them any signs of fear; you won't let them win. "What does Lord Frieza want?"

The alien chuckles at your bluntness. "You Saiyans always want to jump right to the main course. We're gonna start with the appetizers first."

"Is that a direct order from Lord Frieza's lips? Or are you just on a massive ego trip?" You already know the answer to your questions. Frieza likes things to get done quickly; he would never draw them out longer than necessary. This is an excellent example of what happens when you give the depraved power. They'll use it to their own benefit the first moment you turn a blind eye.

The Head Honcho moves closer to you. He brings his hand upwards, striking your cheek with enough force to cause your entire head to move to the side. "You think your father would've taught you some manners, brat, it's fine, though. We'll make sure to correct his mistakes."

You turn your head back to its original position, wiping some fresh blood from your lips. This is the first time you've ever been hit in such a manner. Sure, you've had your fair share of bruises and life-threatening injuries while training or in battle, but this is an entirely different situation.

You lock eyes with the creature again, but this time you keep your mouth shut. He snickers with a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Fast learner, huh? I guess that's why Lord Frieza wants you so bad. You're mailable, easy to manipulate." You suppress your subconscious need to glare at him. They're underestimating you, just like everyone always has. Calling a Saiyan mailable is the equivalent of calling Lord Frieza weak. They're fools. They are all fools. You'll prove them wrong, maybe not today or tomorrow, but one day you'll make them all eat their words.

The man's eyes flash from a fiery passion to an empty hollowness. This change alone was enough to make bile rise up in your throat. His slimy hands make contact with your face again, aggressively tilting your chin up at him. You wince at his touch. This situation just keeps getting worse. "You see, princess--- you're no good to Lord Frieza in your current state. You're not even close to strong enough yet. You wouldn't even be able to hold your own against that pathetic brother of yours. You'd be nothing more than a burden to Lord Frieza."

And it all finally clicks. Lord Frieza wants to scare you into submission, and you played right into his hand. They don't give a damn about Raditz. They aren't even after him. His minions wanted you all along. Other than training, there's only one other method for Saiayns to get stronger, and the method Frieza wants to pursue is much quicker than training. A Saiyan's strength grows exponentially from battle, but results are even better when the Saiyan loses the fight. The best way for a Saiyan to grow is to be on the brink of death, and that's precisely what they intend to do to you.

All the color has drained from your face as you lock your eyes with his. You're trying to be brave--- you have to be brave--- but it's so hard. "What are you dragging this out for then? If Lord Frieza wants me to get stronger--- you're not going to hear me complain about it. Let's just get this over with."

"Alright, if you insist." He chuckles darkly. "Dadaoria! Snap the boy's neck in two!"

Your eyes widen as your gaze lands on Raditz. "What? You said you wouldn't hurt him!"

"I don't recall saying anything like that, princess." You clench your fists. You've felt more powerless today than you've felt in many years. "I could spare that weaklings life--- that is if you beg for it." An awkward silence fills the room as you way your options. All you have to do is swallow your pride--- it sounds easy in theory--- but you're a Saiyan. You may be less prideful than the men of your race, but it's still not an easy task. "Come on, princess---" His mocking tone rings in your ears. "The clock is ticking."

"Please---" Your voice is hoarse and barely audible. This is pathetic. You, the princess, the epitome of Saiyan pride. Begging for the life of a second class--- begging for the life of a being much lesser than yourself. Only if your father could see you now. He'd be ashamed. You'd probably be a bigger disgrace on the family name than your twin.

The alien bends down, holding one of his hands up to his ear. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't quite catch that."

You can feel the tears sting in your eyes, but you won't give them that satisfaction of seeing you cry. "Please--- don't hurt him."

The vile creature cackles in amusement. He's laughing so hard that he's wiping tears from his eyes. "My, how the mighty Saiyan race has fallen!" Laughter echoes throughout the room. They're all laughing at you, mocking you in your moment of weakness. They're simply adding insult to injury. They want to humiliate you in every way possible.

He turns to Dadaoria. "Alright, you heard the girl, drop the runt." Dadaoria throws the weaker Saiyan to the ground, accompanied by a loud thud.

Dadaoria looks down to the ground expecting the young boy to be out cold, but Raditz is shockingly more alert than ever. "Wow, kid gotta give you some credit. You're much tougher than you look."

"Move on, Diadoria! We have bigger fish to fry now--- focus on the task at hand!" You take a deep breath. You know they're talking about you. You're not going to back down. They're going to beat you until you can barely breathe, you'll have one foot in the grave--- but you know it won't be any worse than that.

As the soldiers move closer to you, you lock your eyes with Raditz. Even in his battered state, the older Saiayn is trying to stand up. "Raditz." You bark. "Stay out of this!" If Raditz were to get involved, he'd just end up dead, and that would not be beneficial for either of you.

Raditz's expression softens. He can't help but feel conflicted. Ever since you departed from Planet Vegeta, he's been under strict orders to protect you. But on the other hand, you've ordered him to mind his own business. Every impulse in his body is screaming at him to involve himself. He promised to protect you till his last breath. But the only thing that would make him feel worse than watching you get injured would be breaking your trust. He may not like it, but he decides to follow your lead, sitting back down on the cold floor of the ship.

As you were struck with the first blow, you knew you'd be in for an excruciating amount of pain. What was only minutes felt like hours of torture on your small body. They took turns beating you senselessly until the point where you could barely keep your eyes open. Every fiber in your being was screaming at you to fight back, but you knew defending yourself would be a waste of energy--- fighting back would only make your situation worse.

And after what felt like forever, they finally decided that they were done with their abuse for the day. It's not as bad as you thought it would be. You've been injured worse in battle. You struggle to stand back up, but you manage to regain your footing after a few tries. You scan your body, assessing the damage they have done. Your armor is ripped, and your body is covered in bruises. Even though their beating hurt, it could've been much worse--- they could've knocked you unconscious.

You spit out some blood that had been pooling in your mouth. Using your hand, you wipe the rest of it off your face. Raditz walks over to you. Some of his injuries have already started to heal. "Y/N? Are you alright--- you're shaking---" You look down at your hands. The entirety of your body is trembling. You hadn't even noticed. You would never admit it aloud, but you're absolutely terrified.

Your legs give out, and you fall directly into Raditz's arms. You wrap your arms tightly around his torso. "I want--- I need Vegeta." You sob into his chest. The tears that have been building you finally spilling out. You look up at him, as he wipes the tears away from your eyes. "Raditz." You whisper. "I-I'm scared---" And for the first time ever, you've admitted fear.

His eyes widened at your revelation. He never thought he'd ever hear those two words ever escape your lips. You're one of the strongest beings Raditz has ever encountered, well, next to Vegeta. Raditz has noticed that some of your strengths significantly differ. Vegeta may be physically stronger than you, but you are far mentally stronger than the young prince has ever been. So if you're scared of your new situation, Raditz should be absolutely fucking terrified.

Sadly for you, that incident was only the beginning. The months to come became an endless cycle of; beatings, trips to the healing chamber, getting a few hours of sleep, and then the vicious process would repeat all over again. Sure the training on planet Vegeta was brutal, but this was a new level. You were a lab rat, a toy for their amusement. Back on your home planet, you knew no true harm would come to you. Every day you wake up breathing in this metal death trap, you're more terrified of what they'll do next.

"You idiot girl!" Vegeta's screeching voice snaps you out of your trance as you slam into his back, thumping your head. "Watch where you're going! Do I have to make Kakarot carry you again?"

"Sorry, Vegeta." You mumble to yourself, familiarizing yourself with your new surroundings. You really need to stop getting so caught up in your thoughts. It's dangerous--- especially with Captain Ginyu and Lord Frieza both running around somewhere on this wretched planet.

Raditz's eyes meet yours, his gaze clouded with concern. "Y/N? Are you alright?"

You shake your head in disagreement. "I won't be alright until Lord Frieza's dead."

Vegeta turns around, an arrogant smirk dancing across his lips. "That can be arranged, baby sister--- now stay alert. We should be very close to our destination."

Vegeta takes another couple of steps, his eyes widening, as two purple beams rapidly approach you from a distance. He quickly brings up a hand, stopping you in your tracks. He chuckles to himself. You've grown to loathe that sound after all these years. "Looks like all your worries were for nothing, Y/N. Lord Frieza isn't with his buffoons. With his absence, removing Ginyu should be a piece of cake." If this were a month ago, Vegeta would be singing a much different toon. You can't help but wonder how strong your brother has gotten after the countless beatings he's taken on this dreadful planet. However, there is one thing you know for sure, there is no chance in hell he's surpassed Frieza--- not by a long shot.

"That's not a shocking revelation Vegeta." You roll your eyes at him. "Of course, Frieza isn't with them. Ginyu and Jeice aren't entirely stupid. Losing the Dragon Balls would be an immediate execution." You dart your eyes over to Raditz, that familiar confused look spread across his features. "What is it, Hair Boy?"

Raditz moves closer to you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "If Frieza's not with Ginyu. Then where the hell is he?" Your eyes widen. Not knowing where Frieza is is somehow more terrifying than the thought of him standing before you.

You focus on the energy around you, attempting to locate the largest source on the plant. It takes you a bit of time, but you finally manage to locate Frieza.

Only a particular annoyance has beat you to it. Goku moves to stand beside you, turning his gaze toward you. "You feel it too, don't you? That's him, isn't it? That large source of energy, that's Frieza, right?" You nod, finding yourself at a loss for words. He's far too close to you. Why does he make you feel so anxious?

"Wait? Frieza is over there?" You turn to the brat. His voice is incredibly high-pitched, with a look of sheer panic on his face. "That's where the Grand Elder is!" It's not hard to put the pieces together. This Grand Elder must be the creator of the Dragon Balls of this planet. And that must be the exact reason Lord Frieza is there.

You've been tuning out their useless conversation. "Frieza must think he'll be able to locate the last Dragon ball there. He's already picked off the rest of the Namekians with no luck. And once he finds out he doesn't have it, he'll be furious. The only reason Frieza will spare his life is because he's slaughtered all of the other Namekians. The Grand Elder is his insurance policy."

"Wait!" Gohan shouts. "If Frieza is heading toward the Grand Elder, doesn't that mean that no one's watching the Dragon Balls?"

"We could get the rest! I mean, we already have one. "Krillin cheers, causing Raditz to roll his eyes. "We'll finally be able to revive our friends!"

You snicker as your eyes meet Raditz, a similar look of disdain reflecting on his features. "Yes, because the power of friendship will save us all! Friendship is enough to take down Lord Frieza!" You mock the earthling, earning a chuckle from the tallest Saiyan. Their weak friends who couldn't even hold their own against a handful of Saibamen and Nappa would be nothing but a nuisance on the battlefield. How did that earthing somehow become even more delusional?

The air around you grows tense. And before anyone can get another word in, Ginyu and Jeice finally land in front of you. Vegeta chuckles, staring the two new arrivals down. "How kind of you to meet us halfway."

Ginyu's eyes scan over your group, his gaze lingering on Kakarot and his brat. "It seems like Jeice was right. You monkeys are multiplying." He then directs his attention to you and Raditz. "And if it isn't Lord Frieza's most problematic duo! Where's my Dragon Ball Y/N?" Raditz, by habit, moves to stand just slightly in front of you.

You shrug, a condescending smile forming on your lips. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

As Ginyu and Jeice have a side conversation. Goku turns to the rest of the group. "I'll stall for as long as I can. You four get the Dragon Ball radar from Bulma and collect the Dragon Balls. I think me and Vegeta can handle things here."

Gohan, Krillin, and Raditz all take off, heading straight for Bulma. But you remain, holding your ground. "Last time I checked Kakarot, I don't take orders from you." You narrow your eyes at him. "I'm not a part of your "good guy" team--- and don't forget that."

Vegeta turns to you, muttering obscenities under his breath. "Stop being such a brat. And do as you're told."

You hold out your hands, using them as scales to way your options. "Let's see. Go fetch the Dragon Balls like a dog. Or watch Jeice's timely demise. What a tough decision." Sarcasm is practically dripping from your voice. "I won't get involved, Vegeta. So relax, I just want to watch."

Vegeta snickers. "Do as you please. Not my problem if it gets you killed."

Goku turns to your brother, formulating a strategy for how they plan on dealing with Ginyu and Jeice. You observe them carefully, immediately noticing a change in your brother's demeanor. That infuriating smirk creeps up onto his lips just before he flies up into the air. "Have fun, Kakarot!" He lets out a wicked cackle before flying off.

So that's why Vegeta wanted you gone so bad. Knowing Vegeta, this isn't really all that surprising. Honestly, you'd be more shocked if he stayed. You could've flown off a second after Vegeta, but instead, you choose to stay. It's pretty funny, actually. Never in a million years would you have thought there would be a point in time where you'd choose to stay with Kakarot over your brother, but here you are.

Don't be fooled, though. Your decision has nothing to do with Kakarot. You don't care if something happens to him. This is a prime opportunity for you. Without Vegeta babysitting you. You'll finally have the chance to do something you've been dreaming about for over a decade. You'll finally get to teach Jeice a lesson, put him in his place, and humiliate him before you end his dreadful existence.

"Vegeta... dirty double-crosser." You hear Kakarot mutter under his breath before turning backward, his eyes widening when they lock on you. "You stayed?"

A smile creeps up onto your lips as you shake your head. "Don't get all emotional on me, Kakarot. Focus on that matter at hand!" But your warning to Goku was much too late. Ginyu takes advantage of Kakarot's distracted state, throwing the first punch.

You and Jeice observe Goku and Ginyu's battle from the sidelines as the pair go back and forth. From what you've been able to read, their power levels are evenly matched, so this battle could honestly go either way.

Ginyu goes on a tangent before halting their battle, doing one of his many ridiculous poses. "What? Like this?" Kakarot mimics Ginyu and his absurd pose. You can't help but compare Kakarot to Raditz at moments like this. It's almost amusing how alike the estranged brother can be. Though Kakarot isn't doing it in a mean-spirited manner, he just has more than a few screws loose.

Even though you are observing the interaction between Kakarot and Ginyu intently, you can't help but reflect your gaze onto Jeice every so often. You know that expression on his lips. Hell, it's the same cocky smirk that you typically express. He's planning something--- you're just not exactly sure what that something is.

You observe Jeice's body language closely. You even notice the slight shift in his posture. That's a battle stance. You look into the white-haired man's eyes before moving your own gaze to his line of sight. He's looking right at Kakarot. You have to bite your inner lip to stiffen a snicker. How pathetic. The Co-Captain of the Great Ginyu Force is resorting to pitiful sneak attacks.

Before Jeice can even make a move, you speed in front of him, grasping his wrist in a bone-crushing hold. A Cheshire grin spreads across your lips as the red menace stares at you wide-eyed. You turn your head to look back at the battle, which is now behind you. Nither of those fools have even noticed. It's like they're caught up in their own little world.

"You know Jeice." You turn back to look him directly in the eyes. "Kakarot's a lot of things. All unfavorable. But at least he's not a coward."

"H-How did you?" Jeice stammers. The poor thing isn't even able to form complete sentences.

You bring your free hand up to your lips, shushing the man. "Quiet. Now I'm going to stand right beside you. To make sure you don't have any other bright ideas." You let go of the man's wrist before moving to stand somewhat close to him. You're a good enough distance to have some personal space, but you're close enough to stop Jeice if he tries anything funny.

You once again shift gears to watching the battle again. That is until Jeice breaks the comfortable silence that you've grown accustomed to. "Really?" The man snickers as he turns his head towards you. "Him over me?"

You furrow your brows at him. "Who? Kakarot? Don't be idiotic. Kakarot is nothing other than a nuisance."

The white-haired man shakes his head at you. "You were smiling like a damn fool."

You're about to tell Jeice off, but your entire focus is directed back onto the battlefield. By the way, Ginyu and Goku are staring at each other. You can tell some serious shit is about to go down.

You watch Kakarot begin to power up. Your mouth hangs agape as his power level keeps elevating to unseen levels. You knew he had become stronger from when you had last met, but you had no idea that he was capable of increasing his power to such high levels. And with every thousand in power level, the younger Saiyan gains, the more rapid your heartbeat becomes. You continue to observe him in awe as your pupils dilate. Maybe Jeice was onto something after all. Perhaps you're attracted to Kakarot.

You shake your head, snapping yourself out of your thoughts. No. No way. He's just powerful. That's the only reason you feel this way. It's only a simple biological response in a Saiyan woman, and it's nothing more than that.

What will happen Between Goku and Ginyu? Why the hell did Vegeta leave his sister? And how long till Y/N accepts her feelings for Goku? Find out two of those three questions in the next chapter of the Princess of all Saiyans. (Hint: There will be no acceptance any time soon.)

#goku #goku x reader #son goku x reader #dragon ball x reader #dbz fanfiction #saiyan reader #vegeta's sister #dbz x reader #the princess of all sayians

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f1nalboys · 3 years ago

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Hi, I have been reading your blogs and love it! It's so nice to find someone who loves slashers too haha. If it's not a bother, I'd like to make a request. With The Lost Boys where the reader ends up stopping in the TLB movie universe. She gets confused at first but quickly recognizes everything, especially the boys. That being the case, she tries to help them by warning about the frog brothers. How would they react? Sorry if it got confusing lol.

hi there!! so sorry for the long wait but i really enjoyed writing this request!! I hope you enjoy it :)

WARNINGS: none

WORD COUNT: Approx. 1460

You had never been more confused before in your life. One minute you were in bed, half asleep, scrolling for a video to watch on your phone and the next you’re laying on the beach. You were sitting in the sand now, looking around trying to figure out 1. Where the hell you were and 2. Why the hell you were here.

There was a boardwalk just behind you and it was absolutely bustling with people. Most were dressed… differently than you were used to, but that’s not what made you freak out. It was turning to your left and seeing the Santa Carla welcome sign. Santa Carla. There’s no way you were here, right? It had to be a dream.

The sound of yelling caught your attention and you nearly shit yourself at the sight in front of you: four men in familiar clothing arguing with a beefy motorcycle man. One had platinum blonde hair, bordering on white, and he was smoking a cigarette with a smug look on his sharp features. Directly to his right was a taller, long-haired man with no shirt but a leather jacket on.

Holy shit. You blink your eyes hard, pinching yourself hard on the arm until the skin began to throb. You weren’t waking up. This wasn’t a dream, or, at least, wasn’t one you were waking up from. You stand, extremely aware of how differently you were dressed compared to the people around you, and you make your way towards the men. They had finished arguing with the man and were now standing around talking to one another.

“Hey!” You call, instantly slapping yourself in your mind. ‘Hey?’ Why would you try and get their attention anyways? The four turn towards you and you watch as David, because the closer you get the more you realize this was real, cocks an eyebrow at you. Paul and Marko were whispering to each other, large grins plastered onto their faces, while Dwayne watched you walk towards them silently.

“Do we know you?” David asks, his voice having an edge to it. You gulp, your heartbeat picking up speed and David grins at you. He could hear it. He takes a step towards you, closing the gap, and the others follow suit. They walk circles around you like a lion waiting to pounce on the injured gazelle. “I don’t think we do. I’m D-”

“David, I know. You’re Marko, Paul, and Dwayne.” You say, your voice much more confident than you actually were. David's grin drops instantly, his eyebrows scrunching together. He takes another drag from his cigarette, dropping it and stamping it out with his foot as he glances you up and down.

“How the hell do you know that?” Marko asks though it seems he’s more curious than angry. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to figure out the best way to tell them that wouldn’t make you sound crazy, but nothing came up.

David’s hand outstretches and grabs ahold of your chin, gripping it tightly and forcing you to look at him. His eyes darken. “He asked you a question.”

“It’s a long story and it won’t make sense to you, honestly. I’ll tell you if you let me go.” You bargain and thankfully David obliges. He drops his hand to his side and raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to talk. You take a look at the other three men who were all waiting with various levels of annoyance and intrigue. You sigh.

Almost three hours of talking and answering questions later, you were finally finished telling them what you knew. You were now at a random restaurant, sitting on one of the outdoor tables, picking at fries. They had oh so graciously bought them for you halfway through your story which seemed to be draining their energy.

“So, let me see if I’m understanding you correctly. You’re telling us that you’re not from here and are instead from a place where we are… in a movie? And that it talks about us being… ya’ know?” You nod. David was on his fifth cigarette now and looked genuinely confused. “None of this makes sense.”

“Yeah, but I’m just telling you what I know,” You say, popping a fry into your mouth. Marko was absolutely riveted by your story and he had continued to interject, asking questions or correcting small details of what you said. Paul looked confused but you came to learn that was just his resting face.

“So… what now?” Dwayne asks, leaning over and grabbing a fry from your tray. He had been quiet this entire time, only speaking to tell Marko and Paul to shut up so he could hear you. You shrug. It’s not an everyday thing for you to get transported into one of your favorite movies and have to talk to the four people you had a crush on since the first time you ever watched the film.

“Maybe you got put here to tell us something… maybe warn us? This is awesome! It’s like that ‘Back to the Future’ movie or something,” Paul says and Marko nods excitedly. Dwayne seems to consider this and shrugs. David is the only one who doesn’t seem fully convinced.

“Who’s the head vampire?”

“Max.”

“... You’re right,” David says, displeased. He takes a swig of his now-warm beer and grimaces slightly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He kept staring at you, trying to figure you out and it was really starting to get to you. Sure you had always day-dreamt about staring into those icy-blue and green eyes but it was a completely different story now that he was doing so in a not-so-friendly way.

Marko throws an arm over David's shoulder and shakes him a bit, trying to get him to smile. “Come on, Dave! This is cool!” He turns to you once again and leans in close. You catch a whiff of his scent which was practically intoxicating; sea salt, hair gel, and nail polish. “So, how does the movie end?”

“Uhh… not that great, at least for you guys.” You say, grimacing at their expressions. You did not think this through. “You guys and Max kinda get killed…”

“Killed? By who?” Dwayne asks, his eyes narrowing slightly. Even though he didn’t believe you fully, you knew far too much about them for him to completely blow you off.

“Michael. Well, Michael, his brother, the frog brothers, and Star.” Their faces contort at the names and you realize that you may have gotten here before any of them had met the others. “You don’t know who I’m talking about, do you?”

“Star, yeah, but we just met her yesterday. Haven’t gotten her back to our place. Who the hell are the frog brothers?” Paul asks and, right on time, two boys sprint past your table, comics in hand, cursing at whoever they were running after. One was in a camo shirt and a red bandana tied around his forehead while the other wore a grey sleeveless shirt.

“That’s the frog brothers.” The four men pause before erupting into laughter. Those two losers had a part in their deaths? Yeah, right. “Seriously; they know about vampires and they’re the reason you four get caught. Just… try and steer clear of those people, alright? And if you haven’t turned Laddie yet, don’t.”

You scrunch your eyes in pain as your head begins to throb. You can hear the four men in front of you talking but you can’t make any of it out. A buzzing sound fills your head and your hands find a place over your ears, trying to stop the pain that has erupted in your brain. Right as you think your head is about to explode the noise stops.

Your eyes opened and you’re no longer on the boardwalk. You were in bed, a random video playing on your phone. It was considerably darker outside now and if you really concentrated you could almost smell the cigarette smoke that had been wafting around you for the last few hours. Smiling, you turn your phone off and curl into bed. That was the most realistic dream you’ve had yet.

Back in Santa Carla, the boys were still seated at the boardwalk, gaping at your now empty chair. One second you were there and the next you were gone. David hadn’t taken his eyes off of you and yet you had vanished.

“Huh. I think we should go talk to Max,” Marko says, standing up. Paul and Dwayne nod, standing as well, but David stays sitting. His eyes were still on your chair. Dwayne places a hand on his friend's shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

#s1mping4slashers masterlist #s1mping4slashers answers #s1mping4slashers works #s1mping4slashers writing #anon req #the lost boys #paul the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #david the lost boys #marko the lost boys #david tlb #marko tlb #dwayne tlb #paul tlb #slasher oneshot

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impala1967dwinchester · 3 years ago

Text

Dean Winchester: Miracle and Simon

Pairing: Dean W. x Wife!Reader Pov: Dean Warnings: Fluff, a little bit of angst, Dean, dogs, talk of infertility, sadness, overall fluff, comforting Dean, Sam is mention. Summary: Y/n and Dean learn after a long time of trying for children that Y/n is unable to bare a child. With this news, they decide to wait. When Dean comes across two very cute pups how can Dean pass it up? Word Count: 2.3k A/N: Written for band-psychos 1.5 followers writing bingo challenge. This is sad, but good at the same time. By the way, I have absolutely no clue what it's like to be told that I won't be able to have children, so what I may say may be wrong. Also, I'm sorry if this is something that affects you. Square: First Pet

Dean Winchester Master List

Main Master List

Tag list: @band--psycho @akshi8278 @deanswaywardgirl @hit-meup69 @doctorlilo @fofisstilinski @wonderfulworldofwinchester

Month, turned into years of trying for a baby. It was okay in the beginning, but it turned into constant disappointment. Not disappointed in Y/n or myself. Just overall disappointment in the situation.

How we had been stripped of the ability to have kids. Y/n being stripped of the chance of being the best mother I know she can be. I felt more hopeless, and helpless than I had in any other part of my life.

My darling wife unable to bare a child, unable to be the most gifted thing in life. Unable to become a mother. That day was horrific, She cried in my arms and spent the drive back home in silence.

She stayed away, she had moved back into her old room. Forcing everything that we had built to be crushed. She pushed everything and everyone away.

It was horrible, she wore her ring still. Years of marriage, years of trying. Years of our life being shut out. Being put behind a wall because she felt as if she wasn't enough, wasn't worth being with.

There were nights of course I'd try and make conversation with her, but it always ended in silence, or in me talking enough for the both of us.

The few months that she pushed me away were the hardest, hearing the loud sobs echo through the halls. Not hearing her voice at all was the worst of it all, not being able to see the bright smile that used to blossom on her face was horrible.

So many things that I wish that I could change for her, so many things that I wish that I could make better. Better for her, better for me, but most importantly better for our relationship.

Finally one night.

Hearing a soft knock on my door, even with it being ajar. "Dean.. Can I come in?" Y/n asked, barely poking her head into my, our room. I was still a little confused on that one.

"Of course honey," I said pulling the bedspread back so if she wished she could climb into bed with me. She walked in slowly, not bothering to shut the door behind her.

She wore an old shirt of mine, sleep shorts, and her slippers. She looked just like she has always looked comfortable, but the look on her face was a displacement of how she looked. Her voice was white, heavy purple and black circles under her eyes, her face even looked a little bit too skinny.

Y/n say slipping her slippers off before climbing to the bed with me. "Hey." She said timidly like, "Hey baby," I said. During the time she had taken to be by herself, I had done more than enough research about what happened when women learned that they were infertile.

How they need space, or how they didn't like to be touched, how they could have outbursts of many different emotions. It's been five months and now Y/n's back in our bed. I'm hesitant to touch her, I think she can tell.

"Let me first say that"

"I missed you"

We spoke at the same time, speaking at the same was something that we always tended to do... God to hear her voice was amazing, like cutting butter so smooth and calming. She was so perfect to me no matter what was going on outside of this moment right now.

I smiled, and Y/n smiled back at me. It wasn't a full smile, but it was true and halfway there. "Do you want me to go first?" I asked not wanting to push her if she wasn't fully comfortable with it.

But if she wasn't comfortable with it then she wouldn't have come to my... our room and sat down next to her husband. Right? 'Stop asking so many questions.'

"If you want to Dean." She said her voice starting to waver. She's going to start crying, start talking Dean.

"I'm going, to be honest with you here. I don't know what to say.' Smiling afterward, ' I... I want you to know that you aren't alone in this, I know now that you needed your space, I want you to know that no matter what you think I don't blame you at all, not once. Because I'll forever love you. I've also been reading a lot,' Y/n was smiling now, raising her eyebrows at my reading comment. 'Anything for you Y/n you know that, but regardless I've been doing some reading on this situation, how this may affect us, you and myself. I just want you to know that I'm here for you." I said finally shutting my mouth.

She didn't look like she was going to cry anymore. Y/n was smiling a bright tooth-grinning smile. "You know Dean even when you don't know what to say you always manage to say the right thing, every single fuckin' time," She said through her smile.

Is it weird to say, but I know when Y/n is at her most happy because she curses. She spouts out every single bad curse word there is known to man. Just to tell you how happy she truly is.

God, I missed her smile. You don't realize just how much you miss something or even need it until it stops coming into your life and then comes back into your life a bullet.

I reached out to touch her, but I'm still hesitant. Very hesitant she most definitely saw that. When I went to take my hand back to my lap, she reached out grabbing my hand.

She's so soft, and her hands god how I've forgotten how much smaller her hands are to mine. Look at her hands, look at that ring, still shiny and glistening under the light of our room. That ring I think is what brought her back to me, no scratch that I think our love for each other is brought her back to me.

I had been looking for weeks after Y/n finally came back. Everything needs to settle down before I can even prompt the question to her. I want her to feel safe, I don't her to feel pressured or like I might be trying to replace the idea of children.

I again dived in and did the research for my idea. Sam even helped me, helped me to try and find the right one for her and me. Sam knows a lot of things but he especially knows this about me. When I do something I do it all the way, no half-assing anything and that only becomes ten times more when Y/n is thrown into the situation.

Doing the best research I could with the help of my brother of course. I found the best thing, not something I necessarily like the idea of but anything to help Y/n.

Anything for her.

They passed my screen, and before I knew it I was scrolling back up to them. In the loud and bold letter, it read.

These two come together, a pit bull and a golden retriever. Price is free, just come and pick them up today.

It just clicked, you ever have those types of moments. Where you can feel deep down in your mind, and body. Gosh, I'm really starting to get more and more like Sam.

I shouldn't say that because honestly, that's how it was for me when I first met Y/n. But that is most definitely a story for another time. I jumped from my seat sending the library chair to slide and then fall against the tile floor.

"Are you okay?" I heard Y/n's sweet voice ringing from behind me. 'Shit I forgot' "Yeah I'm fine, I just remember that I forgot to grab something when I was out earlier," I said, turning jamming my phone in my back pocket, calmly walking over to her, and kissing her temple saying bye.

I rushed, driving down the gravel road that leads to home sweet home. If nobody knew what I was doing they'd probably all think I was trying to get away from a murder that I just committed.

The drive to pups was silent. I'd driven baby so many times alone, but this time it just felt different. My impala was the first one parked, a few people close behind me. I rushed up to the fairly older man. He looked over my shoulder, he huffed before waving the other people off.

"Now listen heree son, I'm given' you 2 pups for nothing, so I don't want to hear anything." He said stepping down the porch and walking in front of me to the red broke down barn.

"They're in here. All yours." He said pulling back the door and then walking back to his barn house. Pointing in a very general area, there were 2 pups as the old man called them. Curled up into each other, 'cute' I thought to myself.

'I've already been gone for too long, hurry up Dean.' I said to myself. "Do they respond to commands? Like come, or no?" I asked as I slouched down to the height or near height of them. He hummed and said a few things under his breath.

"Come here," I said gently, just like if I were talking to Y/n. I know that as husband and wife you're supposed to talk about things before you just go outright and do them, but I kind of figured that Y/n wouldn't have any cons to having some furry children. It would most definitely take her mind somewhere else for the moment.

Waking them up from their shallow sleep, they were both wary at first, but grow to be giving me kisses had me rolling around on the dirty ground.

"Come on son!" The old man said. I jumped up from the ground dusting my clothes off and whistling for the dog's attention. "Let's go" They followed us out of the barn and chased after each other. There was no need for a transaction seeing as he just wanted them gone.

I whistled again, both chasing each other and coming to a fast stop in front of me. I was hesitant to let these pups in my baby, but anything for my girl, for her happiness, anything for her.

Both jumping up and finding a comfy spot and laying down. I speed back home, I'd already been gone for much longer than I originally wanted.

I once again speed down the gravel road heading to my home sweet home. Parking in the garage caused the pups to raise their heads. That being the first time, at least they don't complain about my driving like Sam does. That's rather nice.

I opened the back door and let both of them slip out. Yes at that moment I had realized that I had in fact told nobody of my plans, and I also had nothing to give them food-wise.

Letting them into the bunker they seemed to feel at home, but the more odd thing was that they didn't seem to care about anything other than finding Y/n.

An odd moment, it's like Sam said years ago sometimes animals can sense evil, so why can't they sense happiness or even sadness. I wonder?

The two of them led their own ways to the door of our bedroom. "Sit," I said quietly. They looked at each other and sat down, well actually they laid down.

I knocked and then came in seeing at it was also my room. "When'd you get back?" Y/n's honey slick voiced asked. "Just a few moments ago, love...." There was a comfortable silence between us, but Y/n always knows.

"What are you hiding Winchester?" She asked, pulling the sheets from her body. 'No don't get out of bed' "I need you to stay in bed for this surprise if you will." I said gesturing her to lay back down. " Be ready okay?" I said opening the door,

There sat a golden retriever and a pit bull. I heard her gasp "Dean?!". Behind me I saw the two dogs slowly sit up fully, they looked over at me, then over at Y/n.

I nodded and whistled. The pitbull was the first one to reach Y/n his nose nudging her arm. "Dean?" I heard again, so I turned I was smiling, the dog has already made a way onto her lap. "We.. are.. you." Y/n was most definitely stumbling over her words.

"Yes, they're ours. I thought that if we y'know. We could find a way to take care of something. I think he likes you, baby." I said walking all the way into the room having the golden following close behind me. "Yeah and I think she likes you, Dean." She said, patting the pits head.

"They need names," I said nodding to let the golden know that it was okay for her to jump up on the bed. I want my bed to remember them too, cause my bed is memory foam.

"Miracle and Simon. What do you think." Y/n said resting her hand on top of the pits head. "Whos who?" I asked, Y/n pointed at the dog taking up most of my lap, "That's Miracle" then moving and pointing over the sleeping pup in her lap snoring "This, sweet boy is Simon." She said a single tear falling down her cheek.

"What's wrong honey?" I asked "I know that I didn't even ask you if this was okay," I said worrying as more tears fall down her soft warm-toned cheeks.

"Nothing is wrong Dean, I just remembered that I wanted to maybe name our son Simon when we finally got pregnant." She said, I wiped her stray tears and said, "We've got our son and daughter just in fur version. And being together is enough for me." Kissing her forehead. A whispered, "Thank you Deanie Beanie." I rolled my eyes and kissed her forehead again.

Completed on: 05/24/2021

Posted on 05/25/2021

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harmonizingsunsets · 4 years ago

Text

It might be foolish, but you got me all soft

Read on Archive here.

Kate's nose crinkles as she watches Penelope and Colin. Their feet dance with one another underneath the table. He leans over, whispering something in her ear that makes her giggle. Their smiles are brighter than the fluorescent lights of the coffee shop. Watching them is almost blinding.

"You guys are so cute," Kate observes with puckered lips. "I hate that."

Penelope turns to Kate with a bemused expression. "No, you don't. You love us."

"Love isn't the word coming to mind. Nauseated is more like it."

"Kate, everyone finds us adorable," Colin insists, wrapping an arm around Penelope. "It's not a matter of opinion. It's just a fact."

"I'm happy for you two. Honestly, I am. But you're acting so lovey-dovey and sweet that it makes my teeth ache," Kate jokes, picking up her coffee for a sip.

"If we make your teeth ache, then you and Anthony cause cavities," Colin mutters.

Kate chokes a little on her mocha, causing a few patrons to give her odd looks.

"Excuse me?"

"Colin, we talked about this," Penelope says through gritted teeth, shooting him a disapproving look.

"No, you talked about how we weren't supposed to say anything because they're both so jumpy about it, but I disagreed," Colin protests. "Someone needs to open their eyes."

"Hello, I'm still right in front of you," Kate says, waving her hands at them. "Open my eyes to what?"

Colin and Penelope argue with their eyes for a few moments before Penelope cracks, nodding. Colin turns to Kate with a sly grin.

"That you're in love with my brother."

It was a good thing she wasn't drinking that time, or she'd have to spit her coffee all over them. Although, perhaps a spritz of hot coffee would wipe the amusement off of Colin's face.

Kate feels her cheeks heat. She opens her mouth, but only incomprehensible protesting sounds come out.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," Colin says, his smile turning softer. "He loves you too."

"That is not true," Kate insists, standing up straighter in her chair. "I don't love him, and he certainly doesn't love me. Right, Penelope?"

When Kate turns to Penelope, the friend she usually can rely on for back-up is instead chewing her lower lip.

"Well...."

"Pen!"

"I'm sorry, but Kate, Colin's right," Penelope says, the words rushing out guiltily. "I write romance books for a living. I know the enemies to lovers trope very well, and you two embody it."

"That's ridiculous!" Kate exclaims, her heart beginning to hammer in her chest. "We drive each other crazy. I mean, we've become better friends over the past few months—but it's not like that."

Penelope tilts her head. "Would it be so bad if it was?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

A hundred reasons that Kate could never utter go through her mind. She wants to say, "Anthony dates pop singers and models, and I can't live up to that." Or she could confess, "When he looks at me a beat too long, I feel like I could combust from the weight of it." Most of all, Kate wants to say, "If I let myself love him, I know that I'll never be able to stop."

But she can't tell them any of that. Kate had been just fine about the prospect of being alone. She's satisfied with her career, family, and friends. But if she admits that she loves him, then she'll never be content with any life that doesn't include him in it.

No matter what Colin and Penelope think, Anthony doesn't love her. He can't. Letting herself hope that he does is too dangerous. It scares her more than any thunderstorm she's ever endured.

"I have to go," Kate murmurs, standing up numbly from the table.

"Kate, wait," Colin says, grabbing onto her arm. He looks apologetic, and it's impossible to be upset when looking into his puppy dog eyes. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's fine," Kate insists with a thin smile, tugging her arm away from his grasp. "I got to go. Have a nice evening."

As she walks out of the coffee shop, she hears a cheesy pop tune about love play on their radio.

The lyrics inspire Anthony's face to surface in her mind.

Kate groans, knowing she's in deep trouble.

That night, she couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned in her bed but couldn't stop hearing Anthony's teasing voice in her head.

In a huff, Kate gets out of bed and quickly puts on her clothes. She debates whether to reapply makeup but decides against it. No one else will see her where she was going.

Luckily, she's friends with the security guard, who let her inside the building that turned off the lights twenty minutes prior. She thanks him and hastily goes to her office, turning on the light and booting up the computer at her desk.

If she wasn't going to sleep, she might as well get some work done.

For a while, all that she hears is the sound of her keys as she typed and the soft hum of music she'd put on to work.

She thought she'd be safe listening to music without lyrics. But Anthony creeps into every note, every chord, and every song.

Just as Kate lowers her head to beat it against the table in frustration, a knock on her door causes her body to jolt upright.

She stands from her chair slowly, walking to the door with caution. No one else would be here this late, so she fears what was on the other side of the door. But if someone was there to hurt her, why would they bother knocking on an unlocked door?

When Kate turns the knob, she sees the face of the man who's been haunting her thoughts for the past few hours (longer than that, if she was honest with herself).

"Hey, what are you doing here so late?" Anthony asks.

"Um, working."

Anthony scans her with curiosity. "On a Sunday?"

"So are you," she points out, crossing her arms.

He holds up a black leather journal. "Actually, I just came by the office for my phone book."

"You have a phone book? Anthony, there's a reason for that contact list on your phone."

"I like writing it down," he defends, looking affronted.

"But you can't add emojis, which adds personality to someone's contact." Kate pulls out her phone and holds out the contacts for him to see. "Edwina has two pink hearts, Penelope has a book, Benedict has an easel, and you have a fire emoji."

"Why do I have a fire emoji?"

"Because you make me want to set things on fire, of course."

Anthony smirks. "Well, next time we play that 'who's most likely to' game in the office, I'll be sure to put you down for becoming an arsonist."

Kate smiles at him, and they fall into one of those moments that's becoming more frequent between them—ones where his body seems to close, and his eyes gleam with something she can't name but feels a kindred sensation within her heart.

Kate takes a step back from him. "Why did you need your phone book so late, anyway?"

Anthony itches behind his ear. Kate frowns, as it's a nervous tick she's never seen from him before. Anthony, like fire, was all-consuming. His feelings were as hot as flames and easy to detect. But now, he looks more guarded, his eyebrows scrunched and his posture squirmish.

"Anthony?" she asks again.

Anthony takes a deep breath. "Well, I actually needed it to call you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. My phone hasn't been working since I went out on the boat with Simon. The bloody idiot knocked it onto the water," he grumbles. "I got a new phone and need to add my contacts back on, which is why I'm lucky I have this phone book which you mocked me for having."

Kate rolls her eyes. "What did you need to call me about?"

"Well, I know we had a rocky start to our relationship—."

"Because you hit on my sister?" she asks, arching her brow.

"I did not hit on her. I merely danced with her at the Christmas party," Anthony corrects with an exasperated sigh. "How many times are we going to argue about this?"

"Until you admit I'm right."

"It'll take a long time for that to happen."

"I've got plenty of time to spend with you."

As soon as those words are out, that heat radiating from Anthony's fire feels warmer. It's as if more time with her is exactly what he wants.

But Kate doesn't let those thoughts get far. She squashes them before they can take root in her mind.

"Continue," Kate tells him.

"Yes, well, as I was saying, we didn't start on the right foot. But, over these past few months, I feel like we've become friends." He looks at her with a hesitant kind of hope. "We have, haven't we?"

Kate smiles. "Yes, we have."

"So, I thought as my friend. You'd like to come with me to this."

Anthony draws two tickets from his pocket and holds one out to her. Kate takes it from in, and her eyes widen as she reads what's on the paper.

"The Vitamin String Quartet?"

"I know you listen to them to relax. I saw that they were touring and coming to London, so I thought that—." His words suddenly halt, tilting his head at her curiously. "What?"

Kate blinks in confusion. "What do you mean 'what?'"

Anthony points at her face. "You were looking at me all funny."

"I was not!"

"Yes, you were! You were looking at me like this."

Anthony imitates a soft-looking expression, gazing at her with an affectionate smile. Kate, in horror, realizes she had been looking at him like that.

"Shut up," Kate scoffs, nudging his arm and hoping it distracts from the blush on her face. "Like I'd ever look at you like that."

"If you're going to be mean, I won't give you the ticket."

He reaches over, but she pulls her hand back.

"Fine, I'm sorry," Kate says, looking down at the ticket in awe. "This is really nice of you."

"So, you'll go with me?"

"Of course I will," she nods, beaming in excitement.

Anthony releases a breath. "Good."

He begins to back out of her office, but she steps forward from her desk, grabbing his arm.

"Anthony?"

He turns. "Yes?"

Before she can second guess herself, she leans up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. When she pulls back, it takes a few seconds for his eyes to open, as if he thinks she's a figment of his imagination that will disappear.

"Thank you," Kate whispers.

Anthony nods, giving her a kind smile before leaving her office.

The music on her computer is still playing. Kate hears the gentle notes of a piano, cautious and optimistic-sounding.

The night had been amazing.

The quartet performed beautifully. They played orchestrational versions of pop songs, which makes Kate feel less guilty about listening to them.

She worried when Anthony said he'd never heard any of their music himself, that he wouldn't enjoy it. But when the concert started, she kept stealing glances out of the corner of her eyes. She saw him watching the players with a content expression.

However, the music didn't help her much with her newfound Anthony problem. When she closed her eyes, the violins sang his name. When his hand grazed hers on the armrest of the chair, the music swelled in tandem with her heart.

He was a song she couldn't get out of her head.

And the worst part was, it was a tune she didn't think she'd ever tire of hearing.

They bantered a bit about the weather while waiting for their Uber. Kate claimed the night was perfectly brisk, not enough to warrant a coat. Anthony, however, disagreed. He poked at the goosebumps on her arm as proof and insisted she take his jacket. She eventually relented, letting him drape his jacket over her shoulders.

When he looked away to wave at the car they'd been waiting for, Kate turned her nose to the jacket. She smelt the scent of amber, sandalwood, and something that was discernibly Anthony.

When they get into the back seat of the car, Anthony turns to her. "Can you believe that couple who sat in front of us?"

"I know! They were all over each other the whole night."

"Music is the food of love, but couldn't they have got the meal before the concert?"

"You'd think," Kate huffs, curling her fists further into his sleeves for warmth. She looks back at him, offering a smile. "I had a really nice time."

"I'm glad," Anthony nods. He swallows nervously, forcing himself to meet her eyes. When he does, Kate sees a raw vulnerability glistening in them. "I just wanted to make you happy."

She bumps her shoulder against his. "You do that by just being you."

Kate's words skim a cello string, creating a deep note that lingers in the air. Something flickers in Anthony's expression, his gaze steadying on her. Suddenly, it's harder for Kate to breathe.

"Look at us, acting like that couple," Kate jokes, trying to ease the tension. "The music must be getting to us too."

"Yeah, that's probably it," Anthony hums, moving a fraction closer to her. "Because right now, I feel this urge to put my arm around you."

Anthony gives in to the feeling, putting an arm around her back. Kate's breath hitches as his thumb rubs circles on her arm. Even through the material of Anthony's jacket, his fingertips send electric shocks to her skin.

"And I want to lean my head right here," she finds herself saying, resting her head on top of his shoulder.

"I want to tuck this strand of hair behind your ear.”

Kate feels his fingers skim against his cheek, gently moving a curl that had fallen into her face behind her ear. Her breath quickens, slowly turning her eyes up at him, and the look he's giving her is overwhelming.

"This is all so ridiculously stereotypical. You make me feel so—so..." Kate's words drift, unable to finish her sentence. Her tongue goes out to wet her lips that suddenly feel dry. "I hate it."

Anthony's index finger goes to her chin, tilting it up and off of his shoulder. "Do you hate this?"

He leans forward, kissing her so sweet and tenderly that she knows if she were standing, her foot would pop up like all of those delusionally romantic heroines in movies do when they kiss.

She gets lost in him. Her hands go up to cup his cheek as she deepens the kiss. Anthony's arm moves from her shoulders to her waist, pulling her flush against him. He swallows her gasp, and Kate hears a cacophony of melodies in her mind.

Kate doesn't know how long they stay wrapped in another's arms. It's only when the driver clears his throat that she realizes the car had come to a stop.

They jump apart, and Anthony gives the driver an uncomfortable nod. "Sorry, sir."

"It's alright," he says gruffly and mutters something about "just wait till you have kids, it won't be like this" as they get out of the car.

They stand awkwardly on the street for a few seconds. Kate looks around them. The vivid leaves of the trees stand out amongst the darkness of the night.

Kate remembers when she first met Anthony. It'd been fall, and the trees were bare with leaves littering the ground. It had felt fitting. Back then, her publishing company announced that they were joining one of their competitors. She had to work with Anthony, as they were both the top production editors of the separate companies. Like the leaves, it felt like everything was falling apart. Every smirk or retort of Anthony's felt like the leaves blowing chaotically in the wind.

But now, the trees were alive again, flooding with color. Kate's at the dawn of a new season with Anthony. It's something as inevitable as the change of weather but as everlasting as the stars above them.

No—stars eventually burn out. Kate thinks that whatever is between her and Anthony will continue to burn when all other flames dim.

"So, that happened," Kate says, breaking the silence.

Anthony takes a cautious step towards her. "Yeah, it did."

"I didn't hate it," she shrugs with a teasing tilt of her lips.

"Wow, what great appraisal. Can I list you as a reference for giving me such a raving review?"

"Excuse me, who else are you planning to apply with?"

"No one, I'm quite satisfied with my employment with you," he assures smugly, his hand going up to her cheek. "But, I'd like to have a slight promotion in my position."

Kate leans into his touch. "Oh really, what position do you want to fill?"

"Well, I think I've done everything that I can in the enemy job. I've enjoyed the friend's position. But, if the boyfriend position is available, I'd like to submit my candidacy."

Kate loops her arms around his neck. "Well, how about we check over your application one more time?"

"Where do you want me to start?" Anthony asks, pressing his lips to her temple. "My education?" he murmurs as he kisses her forehead. "My goals?" Kate sighs as his lips move to the corner of her mouth, and his hand curls around her waist. "My experience?" He kisses her again, and Kate feels his smirk against her lips. "Or, my skills?"

Kate pulls back with a smirk of her own. "How about what drew you to this position?"

His eyes gleam roguishly, looking at the lack of space between them. "This particular position?"

Kate tries her best to give him a stern look. "Anthony."

"You," he answers simply, resting his forehead against hers. "Everything about you."

Kate's unable to stop herself, chuckling softly. "Wow, that's incredibly sappy."

"But it's true."

She takes a deep breath, feeling content and peaceful in his arms. "Maybe being sappy isn't such a bad thing."

"No," Anthony agrees, the corner of his lips tilting up as he studies her intently. "I'm starting to think that it's not."

This time when Kate kisses him, she does it without a single reservation about cliches or stereotypes, or how she would roll her eyes if she saw the two of them on the street.

Kate's foot pops, and the song that's been stuck in her head gets set on an infinite loop.

62 notes · View notes

murderousginger · 4 years ago

Text

Temporary Bliss

John Shelby x reader x Finn Shelby

Word count: 4,330

Warnings: Angst. Yearning. Smutty things. They're criminals guys, they do bad things.

Note: So this took some time and might be a bit rough, but we all need a distraction right now. I hope you all enjoy!

(gif by @bonniebirddoesgifs )

Every day, John thought, Like fucking clockwork.

Finn was outside his office, like a lovestruck idiot, making moon eyes over his secretary. Five minutes before end of day. Every. Day.

It started cute enough. Finn ran past her one afternoon to give John a message from Tommy. He was so wrapped up in getting the message to John that he didn't even notice the girl that he pushed past in John's doorway. That was, until, Finn was knocked off balance from her hands on his collar as she dragged him out of the office. He was taller than she was, which only made it easier for her to move him.

"Excuse me," she had said, face red as she glared up at the youngest Shelby, "I don't believe you have an appointment and you are supposed to see me before you interrupt Mr. Shelby."

"(Y/N)," John said, hiding his smile with his hand before he pointed to the scoffing boy in her grip. "I see you haven't met Finn, my youngest brother."

She immediately loosened her grip on his shirt with a gasp, her eyes dropped to the floor as a waterfall of apologies left her lips like prayers.

"It's okay," John said laughing. "We don't think much of him, either. What do you want, Finn?"

Finn scoffed at his brother as he smoothed out his suit and walked back into the office, closing the door loudly behind him.

John watched through the frosted glass as (Y/N) settled back into her seat at the desk in front of his office before he stood up and met Finn's waiting eyes.

"Well," Finn said, "what's your response?"

John tilted his head.

"To what?"

"To what I just told you," Finn exhaled, hitting his thighs with his hands. "The message."

"The message," John said as he cleared his throat. "Right, well tell me again while I gather a good answer."

Finn groaned.

When Finn left, he had stopped by (Y/N)'s desk to tell her that it was okay, he wouldn't take it to heart, that it was a misunderstanding. But his breath caught as he looked down at her wide eyes looking up at him. He stammered his words as she gave him a smile, politely nodding to encourage him to finish his sentence.

It was all over at that moment, John thought, the idiot fell in puppy love.

Honestly, that was the day John looked at her differently, too. She had always been a good secretary, but her courage to pull a man out of his office made him want to know more about her. He started to notice more, pulling himself out of his head to acknowledge her. For a 20 year old, seven years his junior --far closer to Finn's tender age of 18 than his own-- she had a good head on her shoulders.

She was always nice to the other women, even the gossips and the complainers, and always encouraging on busy days. She did her work and went home. She was always respectful when someone stepped out of line but she had no hesitation in correcting what she thought was wrong. John started finding himself watching her from his office on slow afternoons.

I wonder what she's like when she finally relaxes, he thought. I'd like to be the one that knows. That gets to make her smile.

Finn must have had the same idea, because only a few weeks after their first encounter he started showing up at the office more. He would make small talk, leaning on her desk, bringing her little presents like wildflowers from the ditch or a treat from the bakery. Visit by visit she became friendlier, more animated, relaxed.

The first laugh was music to John's ears. It rang through the empty room after work only to be stifled by her hand. Finn was smiling, leaning over her as he sat on her desk, and something warm knawed at John's stomach. Finn tucked a stray hair behind her ears. He locked eyes with his brother as Finn sat back up and he sheepishly smiled as John's eyebrow quirked.

"I should probably be off," Finn shrugged, looking back at (Y/N). "Let you go home for the day."

"You could walk me, if you'd like," (Y/N)'s voice said softly and John's blood ran cold in the other room. "But only if you'd like."

"Y-yeah," Finn sputtered, standing from her desk. "I'd like that."

After that, Finn walked her home every day. John was always the last one out of the office.

Months went on. Finn continued visiting, bringing her trinkets, walking her home. (Y/N) got more and more comfortable with her position in the company and even began to relax around John. She often stayed late with John to finish counting the books or organize after a particularly busy day.

John found her presence comforting. He started to sit at the table near the safe with his paperwork after hours so that they could talk while the work was being done.

"Exciting plans this weekend, doll?" He asked one Thursday evening after a particularly busy day.

She smiled brightly as she counted a stack of money.

"Actually, yes," (Y/N) said as she scribbled into the book before picking up another stack. "Finn asked if I wanted to see the new Chaplin movie."

John's heart sank as his head shot up. He gave her a weak smile.

"You like Chaplin, eh?"

She nodded excitedly.

"I never really go to the pictures, so it's nice to be able to go."

"A girl like you should have suitors lining up to take you anywhere you'd like," John said as he looked back down to his paperwork. "My idiot brother should be the least of your choices."

"Finn's sweet."

"That what you're looking for?" John asked as he dropped his pen.

(Y/N)'s face is pinched, a troubled look flashing between confusion and annoyance. She bit her lip, as if she had words that would tumble out of she did not hold them.

"Just a question," John sighed as he leaned back. "But not mine to ask. I'm sorry."

"You know what I think?" She said, scrambling to her feet. "Tea. I think we both need a spot of tea. Yes."

She was gone in a blink, off to the kitchens to boil the water. John groaned and pressed his face into his hand a moment, exhaling out the frustration. He tried to read the papers again, but couldn't get past the first few lines.

"Idiot, John, idiot," he mumbled. "Finn's not the only Shelby without a fucking clue."

"He's not," she said as she brought in a cup of tea, setting it beside him.

John flushed as he looked up at her sheepishly.

"Thanks, doll," he said, briefly smiling at her before burying his head back into the stack of paperwork.

She smiled thinly, walking to the door but paused in the frame to look back at him.

"My name's not doll, Mr. Shelby."

John's head snapped up and he frowned as he studied his secretary in the doorway.

"I know your name, (Y/N)," he said, his pen falling from his hand. "Just like I know your last name. Just like I know your family. Just like I know your address."

She froze, and his frown deepened, realizing how that must sound.

"I'm your boss," he smiled as he said in a lighter tone. His eyes softened. "I also know that when the room goes to chaos, you run over and make all the girls a spot of tea, to calm everyone's nerves. Earl Grey, I believe. Probably what I have here beside me, too."

She relaxed as his finger swirled the top of the steaming cup.

"I don't call you doll because I don't know your name," John pressed quietly, tucking the words into the silence like you tuck the edges of a bed cover. "I call you doll because you look it. You're angelic, even in this 'shit lighting' you girls like to complain about."

"I--"

"And I've told you before," he said, picking up the cup and pausing it against his lips. "Call me John."

Her mouth clamped down and she studied the man in front of her drinking tea before she smiled softly.

"Yes, John."

----

When your birthday came the next week, you gasped when you found a box on your desk when you sat down for the day. The small white box was wrapped in a red velvet ribbon and tucked in front of her typewriter. You touched the ribbon, feeling the plush fabric as you carefully pulled on it. You lifted the too to find a white note.

Happy birthday, (Y/N).

You deserve a little sparkle after all the hard work you've put in lately.

-J.S.

Under the note was a sliver of the moon woven into a gorgeous band that felt cool against your fingers as it glistened. It was the most gorgeous silver bracelet you had ever seen.

You appeared in his doorway and closed the door before you could even think straight.

"I can accept this, John," you said as you set the box on his desk.

"Why not?" He frowned as he reached for it. "It's your birthday."

"It's far too much," you said. "I'm just a secretary. This isn't proper."

John's eyes widened as he scoffed.

"There's no attachments," he said. "I'm not asking for anything. I just wanted to give you something nice for your birthday. You've worked so hard around here, a card didn't feel enough." He paused, moving the box in his hand. "And maybe there's an apology wrapped in it as well."

"An apology?"

"The other night I was a git," he said as he scratched his neck. "None of my business who or why you run around with anyone. Not my place. Now come 'round so I can put this on your wrist. I'm not taking it back."

You came around his desk as he opened the box, the chain looking so delicate in his large hands. Feelings bubbled inside and you giggled as he fumbled with the clasp.

"Thank you, John," you said softly as he clasped it around your wrist.

"Pretty bracelet for a pretty girl," he rumbled, smiling at you as you hand lingered in his. He cleared his throat. "Right. Well, work calls. Best go back before the chickens gossip."

He patted your hand before you stepped back, and he smiled at your wrist as you rotated it to watch the bracelet gleam in the light.

"Right, work," you said slowly, watching his eyes follow your wrist as you moved. "Do you need anything while I'm here, John?"

His attention snapped to your face as you said his name and he gave you a lopsided smile that gave you butterflies.

"No, thank you," he said. "Happy birthday again, (Y/N)."

"Thank you, John."

Days went by and you found yourself wearing the bracelet every day. Smiling at it when it caught your eye, even when you were in Finn's company.

One Monday morning, John didn't show up for work. Finn told you that his older brothers were in London, drinking and fucking under the guise of expansion. The answer itched under your skin, but you chalked it up to having to take John's place to keep the girls in the office moving. When he came back, you had no hesitation to visit his office.

"No one's seen you in days," you said as you crossed your arms and eyed him carefully from the doorway.

It has been nearly a week and you had to keep the girls in line as well as the bookies during a huge race while your boss, whose job it was, was off doing who knows what. Or who, the annoying little voice in your head chipped in. The whole thing made you feel tired and agitated. And now he's back, on a Friday evening no less, like nothing ever happened.

"Business in London," John said gruffly as he sat down at his desk to the mountain of paperwork waiting for him. "Tom called it a vacation, but there wasn't no free time. All business."

John sighed as he reached for a pen.

"And there's enough papers to go through I aughta be here half the night."

"Any," you said, smiling softly. So no girls.

"Wasn't any free time. Welcome back, John."

John looked up from his paperwork perplexed until his pursed lips slid into a small smile.

"Thank you, (Y/N)," he said as you kicked off the door and sat back at your desk to finish your work.

"Thought I was doll," you called just loud enough for it to carry into his room. You hoped he could hear the smile in your voice.

"You are," he laughed.

An hour or so later you had finished gathering the information from the last race's earnings and stacked the papers to take to John. You tapped on his door frame and walked in without hesitation.

John jolted in his seat and sat up, a guilty look across his face as if he was caught passing notes in class.

"Papers from the last race you missed," you said, tossing them on top of his pile.

John shuffled in his seat, both hands under his desk. You frowned. His hands reappeared and started shuffling the papers, his eyes not meeting yours. You looked down his pinstripe jacket before you realized why he would look guilty and your eyes snapped back up when you saw his trousers undone.

Oh.

You turned around to walk to the door. You stopped there, a hand on the frame as you looked over your shoulder.

"You know quite a few girls fawn over you," you said. "You could have any of them, really. I don't think I've seen you with a girl in some time. You look" you paused. "Stressed."

John frowned as he looked up from his desk.

"I don't want a razor chaser," he said. "Those girls will blind a Blinder fast. They want the snow and the money but they never think of the violence as more than a thrill."

"Only want those that don't want you?" You smiled, watching closely for any response. A glimmer.

John chuckled before he looked back down to the papers.

"Something like that," he murmured.

Monday afternoon, you were at your desk when Tommy --Mr. Shelby-- stormed past you, cigarette burning between his fingers. The door slammed behind him and you could hear pacing in the room behind you.

"Right, John, you're to lead the Italian meeting in my stead," Tommy's muddled voice said, already moving toward the door. The door jiggled.

"Me? But what--"

"I don't want to hear it," Tommy interrupted, walking through the door before pointing behind him at John. "Just make it happen. This company is growing rapidly. Remind me why you should keep your position."

Tommy walked out with a curt nod at you. Conversation over.

You heard papers scatter as Tommy left and immediately stood up and walked into his office to find John pacing behind his desk. You flinched as he grabbed his chair and threw it into a corner, his hands flying to his head as he growled in frustration. You quickly closed the door behind you.

"John?" Your voice wavered.

He stopped in his tracks and looked up, his wild eyes looked over you before he closed them and took a deep breath.

"Yes, (Y/N)," he said tiredly. "What do you want?"

"It's a slow day today," you said as you looked him over, his hands shaking as he fought to stay still, calm, under your gaze. "The girls were hoping to leave early. Make up the hours when we're slammed later this week."

"Yes," John sighed. "Send them home. Thank you, (Y/N). Now if you could kindly go home yourself, I can properly go 'round the bend in peace."

He started pacing again, but you didn't move to leave.

"John?" You were quiet, and yet it was deafening even as he stomped and growled. You could tell your presence set him on edge, but wasn't entirely sure why. You had started to feel safe around him, joking and talking to each other in after hours. You had thought you were friendly with each other, but his demeanor was tense, agitated.

"What?"

"Is there something wrong?"

You stepped forward and he stopped again, rubbing his eyes in his hand.

"Yes," he said, agitation spilling over like bubbles over a boiling kettle. "Yes there's quite a bit wrong. I've got to lead a meeting with the fucking Italians and I've already been on edge, fucking chomping at the bit for weeks. Between the kids and work I've not had a bloody minute alone."

"Can I help?"

John barked a laugh before he could stop himself.

"Not unless you can dress up as me and talk to the bloody Italians," he said bitterly. "Or you're ready to wank off your boss so his head's on straight again."

His head shot up, eyes wide as he took a step around his desk, his hand outstretched.

"I didn't mean that," he said quickly. "Christ, I'm going bloody crazy."

John started pacing again, a wild animal in a cage. The floor under his feet would wear if he kept going. The boards would creak, give way until he was pacing himself into the ground.

"It's fine," you said quietly. "I'll send the girls home."

You stepped out, keeping John closed in his office to pace as you sent everyone home. Your head was racing with his words. They had been carelessly tossed out without a thought only to be reeled back in, back to the boss you had come to know. They had shocked you. But also intrigued you, you thought. Did he mean it?

After telling the girls the good news, you sat back at your desk for a moment and finished a page of type. As they all filed out and said their goodbyes, you gathered your things but left them on your seat as you went back to John's door.

He stopped in mid pace in the middle of his room as you opened the door. He sighed, as his palms pressed into his eyes. As if to press his brains back in to his head before he did anything stupid.

"I'm fine, really," he said pressing his palms deeper into his eyes. "You can go home."

"I want to help."

John looked at you standing in the doorway. You bit your lip as you watched him watch you. The heat from his hungry eyes made your heart flutter.

"Do I have to say it again?" You asked, your voice stronger than you expected it to be. The longer he stared the more uncertain you felt. You looked down for a moment.

"I--"

John's lips collided into your own as his hand raked into your hair and his hips pressed you into the door. He was hungry, needy, wild. He licked your lip and deepened the kiss. You jolted back to earth as his bit your lip a little too hard. You gasped as you pulled back and his moan was ripped out of your mouth. His hazy blue eyes sharpened as he cupped your face.

"Shit, sorry, doll," he said as he pecked your lips. "You taste so sweet. I got carried away."

You squeezed his forearm and pulled him closer to you again, your skin begging for his touch.

"Kiss me again," you said, watching his eyes light up and an easy smile spread across his face.

He did, and this time he didn't bite you. His hands wandered your frame, expertly memorizing every inch as his kisses made you forget everything but his blue eyes. He lightly tugged on your hair and kissed down your neck, illiciting a moan as he found the spot that made you see stars.

"I could listen to that sound forever," he chuckled into your neck before nipping at the same spot.

You pressed yourself to him as you loosened his tie and pulled his shirt from his trousers.

"Aren't I supposed to be relaxing you?" You laughed before you felt his hand push your skirts up to grab at your thighs.

"Multitasking," he said into your ear and pushed his knee between your legs.

You writhed as he pressed you into the door and you felt the friction he caused at your core. You grabbed his chin and pulled him back to your lips for a kiss as you grinded against his leg without a thought. The pleasure had you. He felt entirely too good against you, and you could not bear to be separated.

"You like grinding, eh?" He chuckled as you gasped when he moved his leg with you and you flushed.

He pulled you from the door, leading you to his desk to sit on top of all the papers. John cupped your face and kissed you so hard you saw stars. You followed as he pulled away, half lidded as he pushed you back onto the desk as he pulled his chair from the corner he had thrown it in.

"Stockings come off, love, before I rip them," he said, setting the chair back in front of you.

"Then rip them," you said lowly as you kicked your heels under his desk and propped a foot on the chair.

"Right," he smiled wolfishly as he sat down between your legs and slipped his hand on your calf and into your skirts. "Come 'ere."

You lifted yourself off the desk for a moment so he could pull your stockings over your ass. John tore them off of you without hesitation and tossed them aside as he ran his rough hands along your legs and up your skirt, pulling you off of the desk and straddling his knee. You purred into his ear.

"Your hands feel so good, John," you rasped. "How do I make you feel good?"

You had no thoughts, no cares, you only wanted more. The world, the room you were in, everything but this feeling and him were static to be ignored. You were lost in lust and couldn't pull yourself out, only through.

You grinded into him and whined as you pulled back to look him in the eye. His eyes were heavy and he cupped your cheek as he pulled you into a kiss.

"Did I need this or do you, doll?" He exhaled a smile as he rested his forehead on yours. "I'm not the only one pent up. Someone hasn't been taking care of you, have they?"

You growled and pressed yourself against him.

"Can you shut up for once in your life?" You gritted your teeth.

"I want to hear it from your lips, doll," he said as he teased you, just out of your reach.

"I want it," you whispered as you rubbed him through his slacks. "I want it. I want it. I want it."

----

Completely spent, John buried his head in her hair for a moment before standing up and fastening his trousers.

"I still have that meeting soon," John said, holding his hand out to help her sit up on the desk. "But after. After I tuck the children in," he kissed her hand, the bracelet catching his eye and causing him to smile. "I want to see you with nothing on but that bracelet. I'm not done. Come over tonight."

She smiled weakly, and he frowned and kissed her hand again. His mind was clear, the fog of cum spent between her legs. The clarity sent warning bells through his brain as he watched her face tighten, her smile artificial and cracking near the corners.

"Or yours," he amended and watched her expression stay the same. "Less chances of interruptions."

He frowned deeper and let go of her hand.

"Did I do something wrong? You're still shaking like a leaf, you can't tell me you didn't--"

"Oy, (Y/N)? John?" Finn's voice echoed outside his office. "Hello?"

John and (Y/N) both froze for a moment as they locked eyes. She gave him a pleading look as she stood up and smoothed her dress back down, slipping her heels back on with effort. John tucked his shirt back in and straightened his tie as she walked to the door and opened it.

"Hey Finn," she smiled weakly, opening the door wide as he strode in. "John was just going over last minute reports before we leave."

"I caught the other ladies down the street," Finn said and eyed his brother. "You're entirely unfair keeping (Y/N) while the rest are allowed to run off for the day. She works so hard for you already, you should appreciate her more."

"I suggested it," (Y/N) cut in as John frowned and opened his mouth. "To get a leg up for tomorrow. But we're done here, so I really should head home. John, good luck with your meeting. I hope I helped."

John nodded and cleared his throat, his brain growing dark. Is she really pretending like I didn't just take her over my desk, he thought. Surely she's just saving his feelings.

"Right, right," he said as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Have a nice evening, (Y/N)."

"Can I walk you home?" Finn smiled at her as he asked. "Maybe take you to an early dinner?"

John's jaw set as she gave him one last pleading glance before smiling and nodding to Finn, nestling her arm in his.

"I'd love that," she said, her voice shaky as she looked back to John. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Shelby."

John's heart dropped as Finn led her out of his office. He sank into his chair and settled his face into his hands.

Masterlist

#storytime with murderousginger #promptmuderousginger #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #john shelby #john shelby x reader #finn shelby #John Shelby x reader x Finn Shelby #promptmurderousginger

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cherrycheolliesc · 4 years ago

Text

Let Me Hear You Say

part 46: Joshua’s Weeb Closet. (46/50)

red below 👇 (1.5k words)

“You know I can break out of this, right?” you say to Mingyu who is currently holding you down. He just scoffs knowing you can't move anywhere, but entertains you, “I know, it just makes me feel strong”

“You already strong, Gyu. Anyways where is everyone?” Seokmin asks. You look around the room only seeing half of your friends in Seungcheol’s small living room. Seungkwan and Wonwoo are sitting on the couch quietly talking. You wonder how they became friends because you've never seen them talk to each other. You assume Jeonghan and Joshua are probably somewhere making out so they don't have to deal with actually setting up the party. Seungcheol and Jihoon seem to be lecturing Chan about who knows what. Things are finally quieting down when everyone decides to watch the movie that's playing until someone bursts through the doors, “I'm here motherfuckers. The party is finally getting started”

“She drunk, isn't she,” Cheol asks as he points towards the small blonde girl in Mina’s arms. Seoyeon nods as she brings Chaeyoung to one of the rooms in the apartment. When she comes back, everyone turns towards the commotion at the front door. “You can't make me go inside. I'll bite you, you know I will”

“Soonyoung, if you just go inside, it'll make everything so much easier,” Jun says as he continues to try and push the smaller boy in. Everyone just watches him, Minghao, and Vernon struggle to bring Soonyoung in until Cheol eventually just picks him up and holds him down, “You two are gonna talk like two grown adults or I’m firing Jihoon”

“Woah why am I getting involved in this?” Jihoon asks walking over to the rest of the group. Everyone looks confused before Chan talks, “How can you even fire him?”

“Yea and with what job exactly,” Soonyoung says causing Cheol to roll his eyes, “Look if guys talk to each other, I'll tell you where I work”

“One, no one cares. Two, stop lying to yourself, it's okay if you're unemployed. We won't stop loving you just because you don't have a job, Cheollie” you say which only annoys him more. Jihoon confused asks, “Why do you guys really believe he's unemployed? The dude is literally our boss.”

“ ‘Our’ boss?” Seungkwan says, “yes our boss. He's at the building all the time. How did you not know that?”

“To be honest I thought he was just going there to hook up with you, Ji,” Jeonghan says before getting a drink. “Ew, why would I hook up with Cheol? He's like my brother. That would just ruin your friendship.”

“And that is exactly why I’m not admitting my feelings for Y/n!” Soonyoung screams before trying to run away but failing as Cheol is still holding him down. You decide yelling back is the best option, “like I would ever admit my feelings for you.”

“That’s it! Time out for you two until you can figure out your issues. Bring them to Shua’s weeb closet and don’t let them out until they're cool with each other.” Cheol says before lifting Soonyoung. Mingyu sees the message Cheol sends and brings you to Joshua’s room as well. “Hey hey, why are you taking them to my closet? What if they fuck in there?”

“Then they'll be happy again,” Vernon says with a smile on his face. Shua rolls his eyes before giving in. Eventually, you and Soonyoung are both shoved into the small closet. You try to stay as far as you can from him, putting a blowup titan in between the two of you. To ease the awkwardness after a few minutes of silence, Soonyoung asks, “You think Shua uses this thing as a sex doll?”

“If he does, I regret touching it,” you reply. The boy beside you laughs and says, “If I remember correctly, you and Joshua sleeping together for a whole two years after college, right?”

“Yeah well, it was kinda weird. Let's just say, you aren't the only furry in our friend group.” This makes him laugh again before finding a place to sit down. You take a seat beside him as he leans his head on your shoulder, “I’m sorry, Y/n.”

“For what exactly, Soonie?” You ask back wanting a better explanation than just a small sorry. He rolls his eyes before saying, “You already know why. For being immature and not dealing with things like an adult.”

“To be honest, none of us deal with things like adults. We're just the worst. I guess I’m sorry too.” you say back to him. The two sit comfortably in silence just relaxing in each other’s company. Why did we make things so hard for no reason? you wonder. That thought quickly goes away when you remember that the two of you are friends and you never want to ruin that, but your thoughts are interrupted, “I love you, Y/n. But I mean even if it's pretty obvious, I know I'm not very good at showing it.”

“But we're friends, Soon,” you say back before walking to the other side of the closet. You glance at his face for a second and see a bit of hurt in his eyes. Why am I still hiding how I feel? What’s the point of lying to myself and everyone else? You ask yourself before he breaks your thoughts once again, “Y/n, you say that, but then you're willing to fight with me for months because of the whole situation. Why are we just continuing to do this to each other?”

“I don't know, Soon. I really don't know,” you reply, overwhelmed, burying your face into your hands. He walks behind you and gives one of his famous, familiar back hugs to comfort you. You relax into the hug as he softly kisses your shoulder, “it's okay, Y/n. You don't need to have an answer right now. It's not wrong to want to take everything at your own pace. I just don't want to feel like I have to constantly avoid you because like you said, you are my best friend.“

“Are you trying to say ‘the power of friendship is so strong’ that we can get through things like this?” you sarcastically say as you laugh and lean into his arms. He giggles and replies, “That's exactly what I’m saying.” The two of you once again sit in silence. You take in everything from the moment you first saw Soonyoung as a small boy eating dirt in the playground to this exact moment You wonder when everything changed, “When did you realize you loved me, Soon?”

“There isn't an exact moment. I think just over time my love constantly grew for you. I didn't realize it at first and never really wanted to accept it because, well I'm pretty sure it's obvious why,” he responds. You feel the same way. You've always just told yourself it was because of that dance, but you know those feelings have always been there. More importantly, you know you've acted on those feelings before. “Why did you leave me after graduation? After I told you I love you?”

“Because I was stupid and a coward. I got jealous of Joshua, but then I started to think I wasn't as good as him. I wouldn't be good enough like him. I thought I wouldn't be able to make you happy like he would, ” he says honestly. You don't understand how he could ever think he wasn't good enough. You loved everything about the kid, from his weird tiger obsession to his incredible dance skills. “Soonie, you know I never believed you weren't good enough. And to be honest, Shua wasn't the greatest boyfriend. He was an amazing friend, but there's something off about knowing your boyfriend is denying his feelings for someone else”

“I guess that's how Seoyeon felt. It was just seeing you in the arms of a model like him brought up my insecurities I guess. I thought it would be too hard to compete. So I ran away because I didn't want to deal with the feelings, ” he explains still holding you in his arms. You feel how much bigger his arms got over the years and decide to ask him another question, “When did you start working out? Not that I'm complaining, but the last time Cheol asked you to work out with him you called him a loser and told him there's no reason to work out when you have a cute face.”

“Yes, my face is adorable, but I figured I'd just work out because why not. Also, Ji paid for a year's gym membership in China by accident,” he answers while softly laughing. The two of you continue to talk about random things for the next few hours without anyone interrupting you. You hear soft snoring on the other side of the door. Soonyoung quietly opens the door to not wake the sleeping person on the other side. You walk out to see Seungcheol and Wonwoo fast asleep on each other and quickly take a photo before sneaking away. You and Soonyoung decide to leave through the window to avoid questions or stares from anyone else. For the rest of the night, the two of you wonder who knows where and finally you feel happy to be with your best friend for once.

previous / masterlist / next

↣ summary: after not seeing each other for years, Yn is ecstatic when she finds out all of her friends will finally be in the same place at one time. but unfortunately an unwanted dream turns a 12 year friendship into hateful relationship between yn and soonyoung.

↣ pairing: reader x soonyoung.

↣ genre: angst, comedy, youtube au, sm au. friends to enemies to lovers.

just message me or dm me if you wanted to be added to a tag list.

tag list: @agustmonoworld @multinines--xx @noniesgirl @svtslvt @binniebutter @fluffyhyeju @happyvitamin @liarspoetry @itsdnguyenxoxo @monstathedisco @mimaisiomai @sensorivm @sunshineshouchan @hoerangdan @lovingyu04 @linhyyboo12 @youdawonu @ash-moon8 @twitterpated-by-you @hao-are-xu @onefinecarat @kwonthefics @datte-bae-yo @gabagaba05 @all-i-needislovee @smolchild95 @pooofthechicken @simplewonderland @starrysungie @yanniezx @woohannie @serenadesvt @minghaofilm @velve-tae @ahnneyong @sherizaraiyah Unable to tag @manamiyx

a/n- tbh i don’t really know how i feel abt this chapter. but also i don’t really see myself as a good writer when it comes to like written things like this but i really want to get better because i want to open requests soon when i get the time.

#seventeen social media au #caratwritersclub #seventeen #seventeen au #hoshi #hoshi au #hoshi x reader #kwon soonyoung #soonyoung #hoshi social media au #hoshi scenarios #kown soonyoung scenarios #kown soonyoung au #soonyoung x reader

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burningcowboyhoagietaco · 3 years ago

Text

A Way to Learn a Lesson

written by:

@burningcowboyhoagietaco

illustrated and edited by the amazing, the one and only:

@lenle-g

Before I publish the story id like to thank @lenle-g from the bottom of my heart for being patient with me, being nice to me the whole time, and for making my story even better and more exciting. Without her I would have stayed in my normal, not that good English story. so thank you for everything!!! <3<3

And here's my part at @tagminibang submission:)

☆☆☆☆☆

Scott, no!!! No way! I am not going to give any lectures to anyone." John's voice comes out tight. "Especially not in front of a crowd. No way."

"Why not?" Scott raises a brow, his voice honeyed with ‘big brother wants something’. "It's not like you're gonna get executed by some children just for talking space at them, right? You love talking about space. It's all I've heard since you were, like, seven."

"No, that's not it." There's a sharp shake of the ginger’s head, "Scott, come on!" John knows for a fact that his oldest brother knows he's the most socially awkward person to have ever lived on Tracy Island (and maybe the entire planet). "You’ve lived with me long enough to know how much I hate social.... anything." John complains. "Why would you ever think I'd want to do this?""

"Well, yes, I know that," Scott shrugs, "I've seen that look you get on your face when there's a lot of people around." He’s well aware that his brother is an introvert who hates socializing with anyone, so he quickly changes the subject to try and make his younger brother feel a little more at ease. "But hey... everyone knows how much you like it when anyone talks about space or anything about astronomy. You'd be amazing at it."

"That's a different thing." John says flatly. Flattery, it seems, wont get Scott very far. "It's like, whenever you guys ask me anything about space, I like to answer them for you, but from random people…? And in huge crowds? I just simply can't." Surely he doesn’t have to explain himself much more than that?

"Oh trust me, everything is going to be fine." Scott was a flippant hand around, talking without really thinking, because all he wants is for his brother to get out of Thunderbird 5, to visit Earth for a little bit, to mingle with people a little. It can't be that bad. "If anything happens, Gordon and Alan'll be in Thunderbird Five doing Space Monitor duty, me and Virgil are gonna keep an eye on everything, and you’re in safe hands with Lady Penelope and Parker. It's all set up, so please go have some fun for once and teach the children something cool."

"My answer is still no." John says persistently, without hesitation. He's pretty sure it'd be worse than being in the middle of a hurricane, or testing one of his Grandma's new cooking experiments. It’s lucky Scott misses his involuntary shudder.

Scott, though, is so done with him at this point, that he's pretty sure there's no choice but to use plan b and hope that that works instead on his unwilling, stubborn, red haired brother. They've got to get him down from orbit and to that lecture somehow. Scott's just not going to stand for anything else.

"Are you sure that's your last answer?" Scott asks, with a heavy sigh, already planning the best way to call in the big guns.

"Yes," John scowls, arms folded. "Yes, it is."

They'll see about that.

...

"Is everything ready?" John adjusts his sleeves, smoothing down his vest and putting the last touches on his collar. Neat, simple, formal. Can't go wrong. "My presentation papers, laptop, and my mini simple dimple?”

"Yes, all in the bag." Scott calls back, rapidly checking everything, "But do you really need that little fidget thing of yours?" He picks his younger brother's old toy up between forefinger and thumb to examine it, remembering the day John made their Mom buy it for when he gets stressed.

"What fidge- oh, yes I need it." The look on John's face leaves no doubt about that. "I've used it ever since Mom bought it for me."

"Hey… Mom would've been proud of you, you know?” Scott tells him, in a quick flash of brotherly pride. “For, you know, going out of your safe zone for a little while and teaching the children and all that."

"Yeah, I know…" John finds him a nervous smile, "But I'm not doing this voluntarily, you've forced me with that plan b of yours."

The second John says that Scott's cheeks dimple, the corners of his eyes crinkle, and he grins victoriously, his teeth a bright white in the earliest rays of morning sun.

“All I had to do was make a call." He shrugs, "Lady Penelope did all the talking and somehow convinced you to go." Scott got a little more excited. He took a couple of steps forward, slightly standing on his toes reaching John's level asking"How did she convince you?" Clearly waiting teasingly for an answer to come out of John's lips

"Huhhhh." John exhales loudly, a little despairing. "She promised me we'd go to the Pagasa Astronomical Observatory after I finish the lecture with the children." He shrugs, keeping his eyes down, embarrassed.

"The what now?" Scott stares at him, thoroughly confused.

"The Pagasa Astronomical Observatory in the Philippines.” John says, like that was obvious, “It's equipped with a 45-cm computer-based telescope. It's so powerful that astronomers and astronomy enthusiasts can now conduct effective observations of stellar bodies and other distant space objects! Scott, it’s been my dream to go since I was, like, 17."

Scott always knew how much of an astrophile his younger brother is; he never cared about his physical appearance, nor his poor eating habits and he always used to make excuses to read his books alone, yet no one has ever interfered in his personal life.

"Okay okay space lover boy,” Scott grins at him. He'd expected Penny to be persuasive, but resigning herself to hours stuck with John in full excited-about-space mode would hardly be in his top ten. Either he's gonna owe her one, or Penny's more resilient than him. “You can go, no one is holding you back."

The short silence between them was broken by a ringing sound from a nearby table, which John answers.

“...Mhm, yes? Oh, the lecture." It must be Penelope calling, "Yeah, I'm ready, I'll head out now." John grabs his bag, wandering toward where the FAB1 must already be idling on the Tracy runway. "Time to go."

"Mhm,” Scott makes an agreeable noise, watching him go. “Please stay safe and please don't make an idiot of yourself." He's teasing… mostly.

"Yeah yeah," John waves at him over his shoulder, not even looking back. "I won't."

…

"Are we there yet?" Despite the consistently amazing views out of FAB1’s windows during the flight, John’s found himself mostly looking down, fidgeting with his fingers. He’s worrying, just a little, about what awaits him in the Philippines - a whole different tropical island to his own, though still in the South of the Pacific Ocean.

"Just give Parker ten more minutes, darling,” Her Ladyship smiles at him, “We'll arrive in no time."

There’s a moment of silence before, unexpectedly, it’s broken by a call flashing up from, of all places, Thunderbird Five. There’s a prickly sense of discomfort as John realises that, of course, it’s not him calling. Gordon must be trying to reach them.

"Heeeeey Lady Penelope,” The kid greets, as Penny flicks it on, seemingly a lot less bothered by the change than he is. “Oh, and Mr. Tracy.” There’s a huge smirk on his face. “How's our newest teacher holding up?"

"Firstly, my name is John.” John points out, flatly, “Second, I'm not your teacher so please don’t call me Mr. Tracy ever again. Thirdly…” He concedes, quirking an eyebrow, “Yeah, I'm good for now, but fourth… How are you holding up, up there in my Thunderbird? She’s not much like Four, is she?"

"Ooooooooo that's a good question,” Gordon looks half like he’s considering it, half like he’s really missing his own ‘bird. “I'm holding up pretty well thanks to Alan. He’s taken all the Monitor duty stuff, so all I gotta do is keep an eye on you guys." He sounds a bit… sarcastic about that. “It’s pretty boring, honestly. How do you survive up here without a pool?”

"Young Master Gordon, are you quite done talking?" Parker glances, unimpressed, at the little floating hologram of John’s brother in his rearview mirror, "Because we're about to arrive at our destination."

"Huh… oh yeah,” Gordon doesn’t seem too bothered about that, but he waves merrily at them all the same, “Okay bye and John, please have fun, you too Lady Penelope, okay bye guys."

It’s only a few moments later that Parker opens his mouth to tell them that they’ve arrived at Chino Roque Theater, pulling up out front to let them both climb out.

John's eyes widen: it’s nothing like what he saw on the internet. It was more enormous, more luminous, more spectacular than anything he’d seen or read online. All he remembers reading is that it's a sphere shaped building located in the Philippines, in Anilao Hill, but the pictures on the webpage didn’t do it justice like being there in person does.

The building was smooth and round; the auditorium shaped like a massive egg nestled in amongst the other buildings. They were early enough that the sun was just cresting the horizon, colouring the sky with reds and oranges, visible through the geometric front of the building - where giant triangles of glass intersect together to give the people inside an amazing view of the sky at night.

"M'lady, you and John can go ahead. I'll park FAB 1." Parker said, before going to the parking lot - unaware just how tiring and long his journey to find a place to park is going to be.

They both head inside the building, admiring the sweeping glass fractals of the roof high above them. It’s incredibly beautiful, really a feat of engineering. So much so, that John almost forgets why he’s even there, until he spots a couple of buses arriving on the other side of the building, and the panic sets in. He was expecting to be a little bit anxious, but this feels like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest. He presses a hand hard against it, trying to calm his racing pulse and stop the sudden shake of his fingers, and Penny must notice, because a little hand settles, ever so lightly, on his shoulder, drawing his attention to her.

"Hey John," Lady Penelope looks him steadily in the eye, projecting warmth and reassurance. "They're just a small, mixed group of children and teens. They can’t possibly hurt you, now can they? They just came to have a small lecture because all of them like space and astronomy just like you. Imagine yourself at their age, meeting a real life astronaut.” John tries very hard not to remind her who, exactly, his Father was, as she goes on - trying to visualise being a kid that didn’t get ‘take your son to work days’ at NASA’. It’s a pretty horrifying concept. “Most importantly,” Penny adds, “it's only for an hour or so, so you don't need to worry so much." She had to smile just to reassure him. “You’ll have filled their heads with space facts and be out before you know it.”

"O-okay,” John takes a deep, steadying breath, “I don't know if I'm supposed to trust you on this, or whatever, but I really don't have any other choice." He also wants to add that they forced him to go, but at the last second he remembers that they never forced him - he agreed to go because Lady Penelope promised him a trip to the observatory.

It seems like a pretty weak reason, now that he’s outside the stage door, knees shaking.

"Mhm, I think it's time to go inside.” She nudges him callously in the right direction, and John’s palms meeting the solid metal of the double doors is the only thing that keeps him from following gravity’s call and landing on his face. “Again, if anything happens, I'll be at the back of the room and I have a plan b if things get too much." John, pretty shocked by just how many plan b's the Lady Penelope might have prepared for the day, can only shake his head, bemused. “So stop worrying and get out there!”

She vanishes off into the atrium, and John can’t help the loud exhale that escapes his mouth before he musters up all the courage he can, and enters the room.

Bright lights startle him for a moment, and he’s pretty sure he does an awful, awkward impression of a blind baby giraffe as he stumbles out onto the stage and freezes as he notices the first smatterings of audience are already taking their seats.

The moment he placed his foot on the smooth wooden floor, his heart had started to beat faster, his hands began to sweat, the more steps he took forward the more he felt anxious. It was, he’ll think later, one of the toughest moments of his life, and he’s been to space. Multiple times.

Come on John. He tries to straighten up, shake off his anxiety, This can’t go worse than your first EVA.

Taking another deep breath, John waits patiently for all the attendees to take a seat inside the room. Waiting doesn’t help his anxiety levels at all, and he can feel them increasing by the second, but, determined, John doesn’t let it stop him from starting his lecture.

"H-Hello everybody,” He starts, incredibly conscious of the hushed silence that falls across his audience. “I'm John Tracy, M.Sci, PgDip, B.Lang Hons,” he rattles off his credentials, his nerves almost blurring them together, “I worked with NASA as an astronaut for three years before going… uh… solo in my astronomical studies, and I'll be your guest lecturer for the day.” He swallows around the lump in his throat, as a ripple of hushed oohhhs and ahhhs goes through the crowd. John’s pretty sure his face has gone bright red. “Thank you for having me at the Chino Roque Theater,” He goes on, before his embarrassment can bet the better of him, “I hope everyone’s had an amazing day so far. We'll be spending the next hour or so talking about astronomy and space physics, so shall we get started?" John thought it was a good opening, and yet his back was really wet from all the people's eyes on him. Glancing offstage, Penelope throws him a thumbs up, and he feels a little better.

"Um,” He blinks. “So does anyone here know how old the universe is?" John ventures, only to be surprised as almost everyone answers at once;

"Almost 13.8 billion years!"

"Yes,” The edge of a smile works its way onto John’s face. Clearly this was going to be a shout out the answer kind of lecture. He can work with that. “That's correct, now does anyone know how the universe started?"

"The Big Bang!" Most of them answer, and John feels a surge of relief. These guys really are into space.

"Okay, okay, not bad at all." He nods affirmatively at them, and the screen behind him lights up with an artist’s rendition of the Big Bang happening. "Now if I were to go and search ‘how old is the universe’ in, say, Google, the answer would be 13,772 billion years. It’d be the same thing if we looked at NASA, or even Wikipedia - so how did people get to know the age of the universe? How do you even start calculating something that old? Well I'm going to explain it for you in two ways: the good, nice way, and the kinda not that good and not that scientific way." There’s a bit of an awkward pause as John wonders whether or not he’s explained that well. When only silence greets him, he very quickly realises he needs to press on.

"So, uh, the good way.” He folds his fingers together behind his back, trying to resist the urge to fidget. “Well, in the middle of the previous century, as telescopes developed, we noticed something strange. We found that stars in very distant galaxies tend to look red… Umm, which is something that’s not supposed to happen.” A chuckle escapes John and, to his relief, the audience laughs with him. Scott never gets his space jokes. “So why’s that?” He asks, “See, if a chemical element gains or loses energy it’ll emit light in certain frequencies, thereby creating certain colors.” A small movement of his hand signals the slide to change, and a picture of the visible section of the electromagnetic spectrum appears, colouring the room with rainbow light. “For example,” John goes on, bathed in blue and violet, “Consider something like… a desk lamp, as like an element. If you give a lamp electrical energy, it’ll release that energy in the form of heat and light, yeah?" There’s a murmur of uncertain understanding in the room. “Electricity goes in, the bulb gets hot, and it gives off light. Well, we know stars do pretty much the same thing - only powered by nuclear fusion rather than a nine volt plug.”

"From studies of the sun and stars that are near Earth, we know that they’re made of helium and hydrogen, yes?” There’s another murmur of agreement in John’s crowd, “Well, hydrogen and helium can create red light, but they don't have the ability to create these shades of red that we see in deep space." The slide behind John clicks to a comparison of the two shades, on two different stars - making the difference clear.

"So, if stars are made of helium and hydrogen then why do distant stars have different colours? Are their compositions different?uh, well It’s possible, but not likely. The strongest explanation is that the color difference is due to the movement of the stars." The room gives a soft gasp at this news, and John knows he’s onto something good.

"So there's something called the redshift and blueshift phenomenon that says that if an object radiates light and approaches you, the color of the light begins to turn blue, and if the object is moving away from you, the color will turn red. This happens because the wavelength of light contracts and expands with movement meaning that something stretching equals red and contraction equals blue."

"And the strange thing is,” John adds, his audience listening raptly, “That most, if not all, stars show the same behavior, so, if we think about it, if all stars are moving away from us, that means that they were close to us at some point, and if we follow their path, we find that everything in space meets at a point named ‘singularity’."

"It was believed, in the past, that everything in the universe, or at least in the visible part that we have observed, that is to say,” John flicks to a graphic on his next slide. “All the galaxies, planets and stars, were all gathered at one point - the singularity. The theory is that this point exploded in what we call the ‘Big Bang’, and from that time onward, the universe has been in constant expansion.”

"So it’s with data from this knowledge that we can calculate the age of the universe:” With a wave of his hand, John puts a series of bullet points up on the screen behind him, then reads them aloud.

“One, the universe began as a very small, single point.” He reaffirms, “Two, the universe is constantly expanding outward from that point, and three, from these we have the ability to calculate the expansion rate of the universe, by calculating the speed of the stars that are moving away from us. If we take the furthest accelerations and enter them into this equation,” John’s board merrily does it’s thing behind him, “Then, we get the age of the universe."

"And, so we don't forget, all this talking was about the good way. There is another way to calculate the age of the universe, the, uh, not as good way, or, more specifically, the less scientific way.” A ripple of laughter goes through John’s audience - and he relaxes a little more. Maybe Scott was right. Maybe these are his kind of people. Scott’s never laughed at a space joke for sure. “There's no problem with it,” He quietens them again with a gentle gesture, “and it does support our theory and calculations, so I guess we should talk about it."

"Since ancient times, humans have been looking at the sky, watching the stars, and giving them names like Cygnus, Canis Major, Orion.” All names any young astronomer in the Southern Hemisphere would recognise, and be able to enthusiastically point out in the night sky. “In those days, there wasn't the internet so they were looking up at the stars instead.” Much like John himself, when he’d been a boy.

“As a way of calculating the age of the universe, astronomers set out to search for the oldest celestial bodies in space.” He goes on to explain, “The idea was that if we find a star whose age equals X, then the age of the universe must be greater than the number X. So we pointed our telescopes up there and started trying to find out their ages from birth, to youth, to their old age until their end."

"Can anyone guess the age of the oldest star we've found?" A lot of answers were guessed, some of them were pretty close, but some, amusingly, were way too far. "Ok, ok…” John puts his hands up to pacify his excited crowd, “Umm I see there are a lot of answers, but the oldest star people discovered was actually estimated to be 13.5 billion years old. The HD-140283, or as you might know it, the Methuselah Star. That number is very close, you’ll notice, to our estimation of the age of the universe."

"But if we found a star that is 13.5 billion years old today, then we could find an even older star next week and that would ruin all of that,” He chuckles, mostly to himself, “We also should note that this method alone isn't suitable for determining the universe’s age, but as long as we have two methods with corroborative results, we can be reassured that the estimate is correct.” He pauses for a second, “So, does anyone have questions?" A couple of hands raised, and John found himself suddenly answering a lot of questions - but he managed all of them despite his fear of the huge crowd.

He’s starting to feel more than a little overwhelmed.

"Umm… W-well that was a lot of questions,” John tries to pull it back in, his allotted lecture time ticking away on the big clock at the back of the hall. He feels a little panicky from the bombardment, and his palms have gone sweaty. “We’d better move on.” To distract himself from the people, as much as anything, “Our next topic is the theory of relativity, so l-let's get started on that."

Lady Penelope, from her fold-out seat at the back of the room, frowns. It’s clear John’s terrified and she wants to use plan b, but as long as he’s still standing on his feet, and giving the lecture, he's probably fine for now. If anything, it’d cause more of a disruption to drag him away now.

"Umm,” John takes a breath, trying to centre himself in the science of it all. “Let's start with a supposition, a hypothesis if you like, and consider it together. Okay, you’ll have to bear with me on this one, but let us suppose that we were all asleep, and the universe suddenly inflated by a thousand times.” There’s a murmur in the crowd at how odd everything abruptly getting that much bigger sounds, “Your bed, your pillow, your desk,” John extrapolates, “even the meter we measure stuff with. If humans became a thousand times bigger, when we woke up would we feel something strange? Would we even notice anything had changed? You’d think so, but no.” John’s settling back into his rhythm now, “So why is that? Because the bed and everything became a thousand times more inflated and our bodies also inflated a thousand times, with everything scaling in parallel relation to each other so that this percentage, this scale, was preserved throughout the room. You’d never know the difference."

"Henri Poincaré, the well known mathematician and theoretical physicist, says that we will never be able to discover that something like this has happened, even if we use all the mathematics and calculations ever invented.” John drives the point home with another illustrated slide, “This hypothesis is called the Poincaré hypothesis, and simply, because the meter with which we measure things will have also expanded a thousand times, there’s never going to be any equation or calculation or any analysis possible that could lead us to the truth, because the ratio is preserved in all parts."

"Now, this is important, because the same thing also happens with time. If everything suddenly got a thousand times faster, we’d still never feel anything different. Why’s that?” He asks, rhetorically, “Because time is also a thousand times faster, your heartbeat is also a thousand times faster, your body would function a thousand times faster to keep up with it all. As long as everything is increased by the same amount, the ratio is preserved, and none of us will be able to detect any change."

"So Poincaré asked the scientific community; is there no way to know that time increased or that things inflated?" John tells the room, "Well, it was Albert Einstein who answered him, deciding that the one and only way to tell, would be to have someone observing what happened to the world from another galaxy, from another world, lightyears away. For someone to point a telescope in our direction, and look through it at us, and say what happened to the Earth? Why are humans walking a thousand times faster than in the past? But this person who realized the situation,” The astronaut waves a flippant hand, starting to feel much more confident again, “would have to be a person standing on a fixed external platform in a different world, so that what happened to us was not also happening to him."

"But, as Einstein commented, this hypothesis is impossible for a simple reason and it's that there is no fixed platform in the universe - the entirety of it is in constant, turbulent motion. For example, the Earth rotates at a speed of 460 meters per second, revolving around the sun at 30 kilometers per second, and at the same time, the sun and it’s planets and dwarf planets and moons and asteroids, all revolve around our galaxy, The Milky Way, at a speed of 300 kilometres per second, and so the whole universe revolves. That's,” John takes a deep breath, finding himself out of air after so much explaining, “why it's impossible for us humans to completely accurately judge the motion of any astral body."

"Because there is no fixed berth, we can only offer relativity. This is the first part of the theory that Einstein came up with, in summary; it cannot be said that the monotony of a body is absolute motion."

"Another thing he said was that, because of the vastness of the universe, it’s impossible to synchronize, what does that mean? Well, I will give you an example.” He flicks his slide, “Say I’m a person in the Philippines, and I'm talking to someone from the United States. We synchronize, and hear each other in real time, because we have a method of fast communication. I can hold my device and say; hello, how are you?” John holds up the slim, sliver slice of his phone to show the audience, “How’s the weather there? And they’d answer me with something like; I’m fine thank you, it's night here so it’s a bit hard to tell what the weather’s doing! What’s the weather like there? And I’d answer them; it's daytime, and maybe ask them something like, what are you eating? They’d answer me; a burger, and then I’d tell them that I'm eating kaldereta, and it’s much better than a burger."

In the audience Penny quietly hopes that Gordon, who's probably listening in with the rest of his brother’s, missed the fact John was making jokes on stage. The poor little bugger’ll never live it down otherwise.

"These two events, each person talking to the other, are compatible.” John goes on, absolutely oblivious, “It’s possible because the two wireless devices, be they mobile phones or more sophisticated comms systems, are on the same globe, creating a fast means of communication.”

"But,” John postulates, “If I was talking to someone from another galaxy and I used the same means of communication to make a call, do you know how long it would take to get to them? It would be about five to six thousand years until my signal reaches the phone of our friend, and they’ll have married, had children and died, and their children would have married and had children and died, and so on, for thousands of years before then."

"And that's why it's impossible to synchronize between the ends of the universe,” John balances his palms like he’s weighing two invisible ends, “It rather puts a damper on our chances of finding and communicating with extraterrestrial life, for sure, but at least it’s possible to synchronize within one system, like the system of the Earth. "

"This is a thing that also applies to light, for example: any star you could look up and see now, the light emanating from it may be coming from thousands of years ago. This means that it’s possible that the star you see shining could have exploded and disappeared, and hasn't existed for a long time. Why? Because it takes a couple of thousand years for the light from that explosion to reach us."

"There isn’t any proof for the hypothesis that the universe is linked by time, but the thing that happens that we’re sure of is that the universe is made up of, sort of, separate islands of different times that have no connection between them. The connection between movement and time in space is something we all know about, for example, a day on Earth equals twenty-four hours, yes?” There’s a chorus of agreement from the audience, “But on Saturn, a day is ten hours because it rotates faster. Astonishingly, a day on Mercury is the same as fifty-eight whole Earth days, which, infact, is also a Mercurian year, because the planet revolves around the sun for the exact same period as it revolves around itself."

"Okay, so, to what extent is movement related to time?” John asks, well and truly into this whole teaching thing now, “Well, Einstein was the first person to discover the connection between them and suggested that; suppose you’re on board a very fast rocket, 100,000 miles per hour for example. The mechanical watch on your wrist would be delayed over the flight, but you wouldn’t feel like time is being delayed. Why’s that? It’s because the rhythm of your heart would slow down - all of the vital processes in your body that are inside the rocket will slow down."

"As you move more, something called the dilation of time will happen.” He steps to the side, as if to illustrate the point, only to find himself stumbling a little, like if the ground beneath his feet had moved. “T-Time slows down,” John tries to recover it smoothly, but everything’s starting to feel, weirdly, like it’s shaking, and he doesn’t think it’s the anxiety anymore, “and that's-"

John doesn’t get to finish his sentence because there’s an abrupt shift and a loud cracking from under him, and getting off the stage suddenly seems like a good idea. Someone screams outside, and the volume in the room skyrockets as the children start panicking. John’s one hundred percent sure this wasn't anything planned.

He knew he shouldn't have come.

Earthquake? He wonders first, then; Tsunami? Ground slip? Hurricane? Whichever it is, John has to prioritise calming the people and evacuating them out of the building. The giant glass panels above them are trembling with the force of the shaking, and, as a professional at this sort of thing, Thunderbird Five’s Space Monitor doesn’t like the look of it one bit.

"Everyone calm down,” He has to shout to make himself heard over the roar of people, even with the microphones pointed his way, “This is a normal thing. All we have to do is evacuate immediately, as calmly. as. possible. I don't want anyone crowding the exits, do you all understand what I just said?" The front rows, white faced with fear, nod encouragingly at him, and he watches as they begin to lead the way toward the glowing green signs that signal the emergency exits. Immediately after making sure the crowd is moving, John pulls up his comm to contact Gordon.

"Gordon, are you on the line?” John’s a little breathless and he climbs down from the precarious stage, into the throng of terrified bodies, “We have a situation in here."

"Let me guess, you caused it?" Gordon seems so excited to hear something other than his brother's boring lecture that humour has outweighed his professionalism.

"Gordon,” John grits his teeth, “I'm being serious right now, there was a huge movement in the ground beneath the Chino Roque Theater, and it's still ongoing. Tell Alan to do a check on what's happening beneath us using the Ground Penetrating Radar." He orders.

"F.A.B." Comes the far more serious response, before Gordon clicks off the line to do just that. Squashing down any fear he’d about the now swelling, shuffling crowd, John opens his arms wide and walks toward them, the motion sort of like he’s trying to herd sheep, as he tries to evacuate the people safely out of the building.

He’s not exactly an expert at being on the scene during rescues.

"John, there's a landslide going on right now,” Alan’s worried little voice comes ringing out of his comm speakers, “Right next to the theatre. You’d better get out of there. I’m monitoring the situation, but it’s looking like you’re going to need International Rescue to get you and the people out of there. The debris field is spreading fast." John would do almost anything to be up there instead, at his own screens. “I've contacted Virgil and Scott, I’m patching them through now.” Alan clicks Scott and Virgil, both clearly just finishing their suit up sequences, into the conversation. It seems important to keep them up to date with John's developing situation.

"Hey Mr. Tracy, how are you holding up?" Scott jokes over the roar of his launching Thunderbird, the sound filling the background of the call with white-noise, "Oh, and how was your lecture?" John thinks he sounds far too casual in contrast to the impending danger all around him.

"Oh my God, Scott, is now really the time?” John groans, and a kid with mousey blond hair not dissimilar to Alan’s looks up at him, very confused, before the astronaut waves him on, “You are an adult person,” He reminds his big brother, “Please don't be like Gordon right now. He’s practically still a child."

"Hey!” Gordon had clearly overheard the conversation between his brothers, and springs up to defend himself. “I'm only two or three years younger than you!" He complains, not about to do the math.

"Gordon, we don't have time for arguing about that now,” John frowns, “and Scott, I'm holding up alright at the moment. Please don't ask me anything about the lecture until I get back home." If his voice cracks a little on that last bit, he’ll never admit it.

"Okay, okay I won't ask anything about that,” Scott reassures him, his amused, big brother grin very much in place, “Keep on evacuating the people safely until we arrive John, you’re doing great. It won’t take us that long. ETA at 15,000 mph is sixteen minutes.” He reassures, “We’ll be there before you know it."

"F.A.B. Scott." He reluctantly signs off. Now that he’s finished talking with Scott, John’s pleased to see that a lot of people have already made their way out of the atrium’s three sets of double doors, evacuating the building to get as far away from the landslide as possible. His fingers itch to pull up the schematics from Thunderbird Five on his comm, no matter what the people around him might think. He quickly caves, and it feels worth it to be able to see the incoming tide of slipping land.

They don’t have much time.

“Let’s go!” He shouts, chivvying. He’s a little breathless with the tension, so he keeps things short. “Come on! Let’s move guys!”

From his vantage near the crumbling stage, John can make out Lady Penelope and Parker by the main doors, ushering people through, and the sight of them fills him instantly with immense relief.

“Okay, that's a good amount of people out.” John has to jog to catch up with them, skirting around a little old lady with a zimmer frame and taking a second to correct her course, “Lady Penelope, Parker, I think you should go and check on the people who’re out. They could have minor injuries from the stampede, and International Rescue are still ten minutes out. I'll make sure the last few stragglers exit safely."

Penelope just nods, pale and worried. Her blond brows are all pinched in together, nervous and Parker looks practically haggard as he claps a reassuring hand on John’s shoulder, her faithful old companion following her pink shape dutifully out the doors. Hopefully they’ll go make sure that no one was badly injured in any way.

Turning back to the slow cascade of cracking rubble behind him, John finds the stage area has been all but obliterated, and his heart aches for the patrons of the Chino Roque Theater who’ll have to rebuild from scratch when this is over. He imagines the Tracy fund can contribute a significant amount toward that though. They often do for worthy causes.

John pushes the damp curl of his slightly sweaty bangs out of his eyes and climbs over what looks like a twisted piece of ceiling girder toward the sound of people, possibly trapped stragglers, who are calling for help.

"I miss Thunderbird 5 so much,” John mutters, keeping it under his breath so that no one hears him, as his palms are scraped raw against the concrete he’s trying to clamber around. There’s a rippp of fabric on a jagged piece of metal and the knee of his previous pristine brown jeans meets much the same fate as his poor, scuffed hands. “Oh, come on!” He’s having no luck today, “I'd so rather be assisting the situation from space. I can’t believe I’m stuck here." John grumbles, to no one in particular. He’s just not built for this kind of thing. Heavy labour and getting sweaty pulling people out of scrap heaps is what his other brothers do. At least rescues in space don’t have all this… gravity to contend with.

"John?” The crackle of a comm cut’s across his complaints, “What’re you still doing in there?” Gordon’s voice breaks him from his thoughts, little brother’s tone heavy with concern. “The building could fall any moment! You're so lucky the landslide isn't moving very fast, but it’s not gonna stay that way forever." Gordon was really worried about the fact that his older brother was still inside. “It could engulf the building! You need to hurry it up, bro.”

"I'm evacuating the people as fast as I can,” John gets both hands under the armpits of a boy who couldn’t be older than seven, and swings him above a pile of rubble toward safety, “I'll be out in no ti- Ah!"

John’s voice gets cut off with a startled cry, and it takes Gordon a second or two, time John might not have, to remember how to breathe so that he can yell in any way coherently into his comm. His eyes are wide, his anxiety levels through the roof as he tries, and fails, to rouse his brother on the other end.

"SCOTT! You need to get there now.” Gordon’s aware that he’s totally losing his cool, panic creeping in over his weak layer of professionalism, “I just lost contact with John.” He gasps, “He was evacuating people and I heard him yell and now he’s not responding! And- and it's not just him. There were other people he was trying to get out."

"Hey Gordon,” Scott tries to keep his voice steady to inject some kind of stability into the conversation, “Don't lose your cool yet. I'm sure nothing that bad happened to John. Just stay your positive self, okay? I’m arriving right now and Virgil isn’t far behind me."

Thunderbird One is panning over the city, low enough to ruffle the hair of people looking up, but it’s not a problem until the usually so sure and steady pilot finds his hands nearly slipping off her controls as Scott catches his first, horrific glimpse of the building that he knows his younger brother is inside.

“What the…?”

The Chino Roque Theater is almost flat.

"Virgil,” Scott swallows hard to try and remove any of the tremor from his voice, “A-Are you seeing what I'm seeing right now?" He almost succeeds.

"Scott this isn't a joke, it looks like half of the building has come down with the landslide! John’s in there!" Virgil sounds more terrified than Scott thinks he’s ever heard him. What scares him the most is that the exit was on the side that has fallen in, which means that a lot of people are trapped under it, their John included. "Scott, we need to help them right now.

"Okay, here's the plan,” Scott’s hands tighten white-knuckled on the steering yoke, “You wear your exo-suit and go clear the debris out of the way so that we can save them, and I'll get rid of that roof with Thunderbird One and check for life signs. Remember that saving lives is our top priority, got it? No matter what’s happened to John."

"F.A.B." Virgil sounds incredibly tense. He lands Thunderbird Two as fast as he can in the crowded, limited space. Local people are beginning to make their way out of their houses to see what all the commotion is about, and the cramped city streets aren’t ideal for International Rescue’s four hundred and six ton workhorse.

Two’s pilot struggles into his exo-suit, rushing to get the Jaws of Life prepared despite Scott’s insistence that he focus and take things slow and sensible. It’s not long until he finds himself digging among the debris looking for buried people and, in the white rush of it all, Virgil’s not even sure how he got there.

"Scott,” he presses on his comm, “Please tell me you’ve got something?"

"Fortunately and thankfully yes,” It’s hard to find the hopefulness in big brother’s clipped Mobile Control voice, but it’s there to Virgil’s expert ear, drizzled in nervous relief. “I've got a whole cluster of life signs,” Scott reports, “BPM signalling in the green. "I think they’re just trapped under the debris." Alan’s echolocation report came back suggesting that there’s a big space under what could be folded sheet metal from the ceiling, that they’ve huddled in. I'm really sure there's nothing that bad, but still we have to continue otherwise it will take a bad turn for us and the people in there."

“I can use the grappling cables in Thunderbird One to take the strain off the roof,” Scott adds, “But I need you in there to get those people out.”

“Already on my way,” Virgil ducks under some rebar, skirting around the rubble and pulling away loose debris as he goes. His heart is loud in his own ears, and Virgil hopes the creak and groan of metal and concrete above him is Scott lifting the weight off the roof, keeping it from collapsing any further onto the people below, and not anything more sinister. Virgil gets peppered by a slide of small stones, but the roof holds steady.

He presses on until he catches sight of the cluster of around forty people, all huddled together around a tall, central figure with a shocking amount of rubble dust smeared over his face, and powdered through his ginger hair.

“John!” Two’s pilot makes a beeline for his brother, despite the fact three of the people are stuck under rubble. Clearly John’s in control of the situation here, and he’s never wanted a mission update from their Space Monitor so much in his life. He can’t help but hone in on the fact John's left arm is crudely wrapped in a piece of cloth from his sleeve, which he must’ve ripped off in order to tie it.

"You have to tell me exactly what happened,” Virgil drops the controls for the Jaws of Life, and grasps his brother’s biceps in both hands instead, resisting the very strong temptation to pull the spaceman in for a hug. “And what happened to your arm?!?" There’s a river of blood seeping from beneath the make-shift bandage, but John, it seems, isn’t bothered by it in the slightest.

"Not now Virgil.” His concerns get thoroughly dismissed, “We’ve got to get these people out of here, and then I'll tell you everything." Virgil didn't like the idea that something happened to his brother and he's silent about it, but after all John was right about saving the people first since his arm is under control for now.

John crouches by the nearest injured person; a pale, skinny teen with a sizable piece of rebar keeping him pinned.

“You’re gonna be out of there in just a second, Lito.” Virgil watches him reassuring the young man for a long moment, “Uh, Virgil?” John prompts. “Any time?”

“What?” He blinks, “Oh, yeah!” His brother is clearly waiting expectantly for him to use the Jaws of Life to get the poor kid out. "I’m on it, but you better tell me everything after we're done saving them." Virgil demands. “But, uh, Scott’s kind of holding the roof up right now, so you’re probably right.”

"Okay,” John literally rolls his eyes, busy stealing a pair of blue rubber gloves from the Med Kit Virgil brought with him, and snapping them on to protect his hands and the fine cuts he’d gotten from climbing over rubble. “I promise I'll tell you everything, but can we start actually rescuing them now?" Rolling his eyes right back, the bigger man uses his exosuit to heft the rubble off Lito, before John swoops in to apply pressure to his injuries.

“Give me the fold out stretcher from your sash.” He orders, hands bloodied “Then go get the next person out. Efifania, Sergio?” John beckons a pair of nearby dad’s in closer, clearly having singled them out as capable stretcher bearers. “Think you can manage Lito here for me?”

As Virgil starts removing the rubble from above the other two trapped people, a middle aged man and a younger woman, it becomes immediately obvious that both of them have more severe wounds than young Lito. They both need medical treatment immediately.

“I’ll carry one of them.” Without the three extra sets of hands he’d need, Virgil has to leave a couple of crowd members applying pressure to their wounds, as he moves back to where John is helping Lito unsteadily to his feet. “Think you can walk, young man? We’re gonna need that stretcher for the big guy.”

“I won’t let you fall.” John promises, and Virgil feels a real swell of pride at how well his brother is handling the situation whilst being outside of both his space station and his comfort zone. It looks like having a rescue and a job to do really gives him no time for anxiety. "I agree that that's our best plan.” He adds, nodding, short and sharp, to confirm it, then John turns, an arm around Lito’s waist and the kid’s arm slung over his shoulder, to address the crowd.

“Anyone not so severely hurt needs to help get the injured out of here.” John instructs, the small crowd listening raptly. The look on the faces of these scared people is one Virgil is all too familiar with, but he knows John has far less experience of in person. They’re really looking to him as their saviour. “Virgil here is going to lead us through the path he just made.” Which is news to Virgil, but does seem like the best plan. “International Rescue will then be able to take us all to the hospital to get checked out, and then I’m sure you’ll be released to go home to your families before you know it. Got it everyone?"

In that moment Virgil finds himself struck with amazement at how John seems to have become almost as fearless as Scott, as they started carrying the two injured people out to safety. It was really a new side to him that Virgil doesn’t think he’s ever seen before.

"Virgil… I need you to check on Lady Penelope and Parker.” John’s keeping pace at his side, helping the boy they’d dug out along as he goes, “I told them to check to see if anyone was hurt."

"Hmm, yeah you're right.” Virgil frowns. If Penny and Parker have any more injured party members, even minor ones that just need a check up, Thunderbird Two will need to evacuate them to the hospital as well. “Have you got any idea where they might be?"

"Well, I told them to get somewhere away from the landslide,” John frowns, as their limping, shocky party stumbles out into the bright light of day, to be greeted by the roar of Thunderbird One’s engines high above them. “They should be near here.” He yells over the sound of it.

As usual, it turns out that John is completely right. Penny and Parker are waiting for them, but neither John nor Virgil find the look on Lady Penelope's face all that reassuring.

"JOHN!” She rushes toward the battered, bloodied spaceman, her arms outstretched. Virgil very quickly and carefully finagles poor Lito out of the way as his brother gets ambushed. “Are you okay?!?” Penelope demands, frantic, “What happened to your arm?” She reaches for the bloodied bandage, and John winces, “I'm so sorry,” All of John’s carefully constructed rules around personal space are shattered as she cups his cheek, inspecting his face for injury. It’s lucky that John is by far the most patient of the Tracy boys. “I shouldn't have left you there.

"She’d been so terrified, perhaps more than anyone else here. The horrific view she’d seen with her own eyes is going to haunt her for a long time yet. One second she was getting out of the building to reassure and check up on the people, and the next she was watching half the structure collapse completely, with John under the side that fell. She still feels a little sick.

"I'm so, so, so sorry John,” She repeats, before he can get a word in edgeways to reassure her, “Please, you must tell me if there's any way I can make it up to you. Ask me anything and I'll do it."

"Okay guys,” Virgil chuckles, “while you talk things out I'll go to get the injured people aboard Thunderbird 2. Make it quick though, we’ve still got people who need immediate medical treatment, got it?"

"F.A.B. Virgil.” John nods, “We'll be quick. Penny, I..."

“I’m so sorry.” She repeats again, and pulls his good arm over her shoulder as if to steady him as they make their way at the back of the crowd toward the big green Thunderbird.

"No no no, Penny, please stop apologising.” John’s fingers tighten for a quick moment on her shoulder, in brief reassurance, “I'm not going to ask you for anything because it was never your fault.” He insists, “It was just some bad luck, that's all. Fortunately I, and most people, got out safe with no severe wounds. These things happen.”

“Your arm.” She points out softly, hoping that all that blood looks worse than it is, “John I can’t believe you stayed behind like that, it’s so...”

“Tracy?” He grins, amused but very weary.

“Scott Tracy.” She corrects, scowling a little as she holds on just that little bit tighter around his waist as his adrenaline from the rescue starts to flag. “I thought you had more common sense.”

“Hate to disappoint.” She feels the warmth of him chuckling, “I’m lucky it was nothing worse than his cut from some shattered glass that fell on my arm while I was helping one of the guys who got stuck. I don’t think any arteries or anything have been damaged, but it is... kinda deep." And he might be getting a little lightheaded from the blood loss. Still, he really wants to reassure her, just like she had reassured him before he’d gone in to give the lecture.

"Hate to interrupt your moment, but are you guys done?" Scott pops up from who-knows-where amongst the crowd to yell at them. He’s clearly joined the relief effort. "Virgil’s just finished getting everyone aboard Thunderbird 2, and he's ready to launch." He adds, squinting at the pale, wobbly mess of his brother. "And you really do need to check your arm. That looks nasty.”

"Yeah Scott,” John wipes a tired hand over his dirty face, dislodging dust, “We're done. Don’t let Thunderbird Two wait for me, I'll hitch a ride with Lady Penelope, uh,” He turns to her, bashful, to check, “If that’s okay?"

“Of course,” Her Ladyship concedes, “Scott?” She is mildly concerned that big brother might want to have the injured member of his flock under his wing so he can smother him.

"Yeah sure, ride whatever you want.” Scott flip flops a dismissive hand at them, “You can ride a pod, I won't care as long as your destination is the hospital."

"How about you, Gordon?” John knows his little brother is still on the line, probably sulking. “Is it okay if I take the ride with Lady P?"

"W-what do you mean by that?” Gordon sounds confused and maybe a little embarrassed, like he’s been caught out. “Scott already said you should go, why’re you asking me?"

"Well, she's your girlfriend.” John grins, teasing, as Penny helps him into the back of FAB1. “Of course I have to get permission from her boyfriend.

"Penny swats at him for that, amused, but careful not to hit his injured arm. She doesn’t need anyone’s permission to do anything, but it is fun to see Gordon squirm - especially as Scott and Virgil both crack up, and even Alan in space starts teasing him.

"What?!?” Gordon’s face, bless that darling young man, has gone bright red. “J-Just go already." He ducks off the comm screen to try and hide his embarrassment, but it’s far too late for that.

He’s lucky that Penelope finds it incredibly endearing.

"John,” She nudges him, as the Tracy’s all click off the line to go do their actual jobs. She’s a little concerned that he’s looking a bit spaced out, if you’ll excuse the pun, and it’s probably a good idea to keep him talking. “You know we're still going to The Pagasa Observatory, just like I promised you, right?"

"Wait really?” John’s head tilts, a little floppy, towards her from where it had been sinking into FAB1’s luxurious headrests. He’s looking a little grey, but it’s good to see his eyes open. “After all that happened?” A ginger eyebrow quirks, “Are you sure there's time for that?"

"Well, we’re on our way to the hospital now, but there’ll be plenty of time this afternoon.” As long as the medics give him a clean bill of health. “You can change your clothes after we're done checking your arm then there should be time for you to go see that big telescope you've been dreaming of visiting. After all, I did promise you we’d go there after we're done."

"Well, that sounds good to me!” John smiles like there’s a supanova fuling him, “Penny you’re the best."

They reach the hospital a little after International Rescue has dropped off the fourty or so injured people, and so there’s quite a wait for a Doctor to be free so that they can have a look at John’s poor, sliced arm. Penny seems to be doing a worried hover at his side, while he waits, shaky from blood loss, and though he’s not used to having so much company, John has to admit it’s nice to have a chance to catch up with his old friend with no rescue alarms blaring.

Alan reports in that the two worst injured in the landslide have been hospitalized as fast as possible, that they were stable - the doctors have said their prognosis looked good. He also tells him that Lito’s family had been asking after the redheaded lecturer who’d helped him out of the rubble, and that John Tracy, M.Sci, PgDip, B.Lang Hons, should probably expect a gift basket in the mail quite soon.

John gets quite flustered about that. He’d just been doing his job.

The spaceman's arm was eventually treated, and Scott calls in to ask what actually happened to his arm. It still hurts, a properly bandaged throb just under his elbow, but not like before. The painkilling injection and little bit of morphine they’d given him when they stitched it up had probably helped with that.

Alan’s reports dug up that the landslide had been caused by a water main leaking under the building, and destabilizing the soil. Over time, water can do a lot of damage, washing away vital infrastructure if it’s not been properly reinforced during construction.

As the Chino Roque Theater was a new build, there must have been a mistake in the installation of the pipes during construction.

Someone was getting a big lawsuit heading their way, and Tracy Enterprises will be more than happy to fund the lawyers for the theatre.

As Lady Penelope promised him, they found John a change of clothes and went to the Pagasa Observatory. Penny’s quite sure she’s never seen anything as wholesome as the moment John sees the telescope - his eyes went all shiny, and the smile on his face was massive.

"Lady Penelope, Parker come take a look at the stars!!!” He calls, over his shoulder, with the enthusiasm of a boy half his age, “They’re really beautiful from here!" With such a high-powered lens pointed up at the cosmos, it rivals even his view from Thunderbird Five.

"Indeed, they are." Lady Penelope and Parker both step up to take turns, but John was the one to look through the telescope the most. With all the stealth her years as a secret agent offered her, Lady Penelope took a picture of him.

"Parker, come take a look." She whispers, beckoning her old companion gleefully over. "He looks so happy and innocent in this picture. Wouldn’t it be lovely to see his face like this always?"

"We still have some time before they close,” Parker points out, a sly grin creeping onto his nosey old face. “How h’bout we leave him like this for a little longer?"

"That, Parker.” she smiles, “Is an excellent idea.”

The End

#tag mini bang 2021 #tagminibang2021 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #john tracy #scott tracy #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #alan tracy #Lady Penelope #Parker #tag #my writing

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boxofbadaddiction · 4 years ago

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Whoever Broke Your Heart

George Weasley x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Cheating. Guy who doesn't understand the word "no". Teeny Tiny bit of Swearing.

Opening a Joke Shop was the best idea Fred and George ever had. It's what they were meant to do. What made them happier than one would think possible. At least that's what George had been trying to convince himself for the past few hours.

To tell the truth, this past week had been the most stressful so far, and they worked through the beginning of a war!

But now that that was over and Diagon Alley, like everywhere, was beginning to return to the new normal, the Twins had been flat out. Kids were preparing for the school year and in addition to their shop being near capacity every single day, mail orders were through the roof. It'd been like this for the past 3 weeks, but this week...This week could not possibly get any worse!

Between the eight new complaints from angry family members after falling victim to one of their products. To the three ruined displays after a customer 'accidentally' set off one of the boys 'Crazy Creatures' feature Fireworks which sparked a Lion to pounce throughout the store, until the Twins got it under control, it had managed to take out it's fair share of shelving and they had to close the store for a little over an hour to clean up. On the brightside they sold twelve of those that day after everyone saw it in action. Now, however, there weren't enough fireworks in the store to distract George from the mountain of paper work he'd been ignoring. Or from the fact he still couldn't get his latest invention to cooperate. He has completely HAD IT. In his opinion this week can well and truly go and get fuc-

"OI GEORGE! You're not still working in there are you!?" Fred called as he made his way to his brothers room.

Sure enough, there his Twin was. Slumped uncomfortably in his desk chair working reluctantly on the paperwork he'd neglected. With his head propped up by his palm he didn't even acknowledge his brothers entrance.

"For Merlin's sake, George. The stores closed mate, give yourself a break for a minute won't you?" Fred walked over to glance at the work spread haphazardly over the desk top.

"Later. I'm nearly done." George murmured.

"Bollocks you are." Fred replied lifting several order sheets from the pile to read through them. "You've been working non-stop lately, just let it slip for tonight, mate."

"I can't Fred!" He snapped in frustration. "We're so far behind it's ridiculous. I can't let it go because it needs to be done before open tomorrow!"

"We're not open tomorrow, George! It's Sunday!"

"What?" He looked up confusedly at his calender on the wall. "It's the 31st?"

"No." Fred dropped the papers in his hands and flipped the page of the calender, picking up a red marker which he used to circle the date. "It's the 5th, you numpty."

George threw his Quill onto the desk and pushed himself back into his chair, rubbing his eyes in frustration before running them through his hair with a groan. He had a whole day to get this done tomorrow. But here he was rushing through it like last minute revision before an exam because he can't keep track of what day it is. He relaxed at the thought of more time. Fred patted his shoulder with a slight chuckle, noticing much of the tension he'd been harbouring melt away.

"Worried for nothing" he joked. George looked up at him with a glare. Freds face dropped slightly, seeing the bloodshot whites of his Twins eyes and the dark circles beneath them. "Bloody hell...you really need a night out of here."

George stood to stretch his aching back and sighed satisfactorily as it cracked in several places. "Yeah. Maybe I do" he spoke honestly.

"Tell ya what, Georgie. I was gonna continue work on that Dragons Breath Candy of yours tonight anyway so" he dug his hand in his pocket and pulled out a bunch of coins counting quickly, "here's twenty galleons. Get out."

George tilted his head in question.

"Go eat, or drink, whatever. Just get out."

George wasn't feeling particularly energetic for a night out and opened his mouth to protest, but Fred was having none of it.

"UH! No. Take a shower, cause you reek. Then leave and I don't won't you back till you're truly hammered. Hear me?"

His brother smiled half-heartedly and sent up a mock salute with a playfully stern expression.

Feeling far more refreshed than he had 20 minutes ago thanks to a good hot shower, George readdied himself to leave, grabbing his keys then quickly apparating to the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron. True, it wasn't a particularly long walk but honestly...he just couldn't be bothered.

The Pub was decently full but given the fact it was barely past eight on a Saturday night, one would actually consider it quite empty.

Shuffling past the groups of people drinking and talking throughout the room he quickly made his way to the bar. He stood to the right of what appeared to be a couple, leaning his body against the counter as he ordered a Fire Whiskey. He pulled a vacant stool toward himself to sit down as he paid for his drink. He simply sat, contently sipping his beverage, listening to the music as he felt himself relax considerably finally having time away from the stress of work. A few minutes passed before something to his left caught his attention. The couple he'd sat next to, or rather what he now gathered was an uncomfortable woman and some insufferable git who clearly didn't understand the word 'no'.

He was relentless in trying to persuade the woman to join him for a dance...then a drink...then how bout a date...then a-OKAY! George had heard enough.

"Oi, mate." He shouted slightly to be heard over the noise of the room, he tapped the man's shoulder to make it clear he was the one he was talking to. He turned slowly with a sour look of disgust at the interruption. "Give it a rest won't you? She's clearly not interested."

The girl shifted slightly in her chair, distancing herself from the man who refused to leave her alone. She clutched her drink within her hands tightly, trying to appear invisible one would assume.

"You with her are you?" The man spoke as he turned his body to face George, eyeing him with a rude expression.

"No."

"Then sod off. You're not one to know what she wants."

"Given the 8 times she's told you 'no' in the past 5 minutes I'd say I know exactly what she wants. For you to leave her alone."

The girl couldn't help but smile slightly at the redheads boldness of words. The man on the other hand was quickly becoming agitated. He straightened himself and took a menacing step forward, nostrils flaring. George didn't budge. Unphased by the man's movements, he simply sipped his drink with a deadpan expression.

"You tryna spark a problem, buddy?"

"Merely attempting to resolve one." George spoke smoothly.

"I don't see one here needing your help." He hissed.

"That'd be because you're it. So unless you'd like me to conjure you a mirror I'm afraid you'll remain quite blind." He took another sip of his drink. "The girls not interested. Leave her alone."

"Oh she looks plenty interested to me" the angry man spoke "just playing hard to get" he smirked stepping back a pace and wrapping his arm around the woman's side. George noticed her cringe at the contact moving away from him in her seat.

George placed his drink on the counter and stood slowly. His movements making the man drop his arm and puff his chest to appear bigger than he was. Stares never leaving one another as the redhead turned his body to face the arrogant man, looking down on him as if he were something unpleasant stuck to his shoe. Towering in comparison, a good head taller than he was caused a flash of unease to spead across the face of the offender. Evidently he had not realised the full size of the man infront of him while he was seated.

"Leave." George spoke in a deep and threatening voice. Eyes like daggers peircing all confidence the man before him previously held.

In an attempt to gain some composure and try not appear to be fleeing the git scoffed. Throwing a lame insult at the two of them before grabbing his drink and sulking away into the small crowd. George stood in place like a statue until the man had disappeared from sight completely. Posture and expression immediately softening as he turned back to the woman by the bar "are you alright?".

"Fine. Thank you." She spoke swiftly. Not turning to face him clearly wanting to be left alone as her body was still stiff and rigid. George looked at her unsure of what to say. "Do you need anything?".

"No. I'm fine. And I'd appreciate being left alone." She snapped turning her head ever slightly toward him as she did so. He tried to not take it personally as he noted the emotion held in her eyes and the slight tremble in her lips. The way she sat as if trying to restrain herself from something. Her drink, obviously bought long ago as the ice had all melted and the condensation had formed a large ring around the base of her glass. She'd probably been here long before that tosser showed up.

George sat, facing back to his glass not wanting to disturb her any further. She was beautiful he thought, and had the circumstances been different he probably would have been tempted to buy her a drink. But he knew now definitely wasn't the time, even if he just couldn't shake the feeling he needed to say something.

He eyed her curiously and cautiously, not wanting to appear as another weirdo incapable of understanding boundaries. Watching her stare sorrowfully at a Golden Diamond ring she fiddled with in her hands, a tear slipping down her cheek. It all made sense now. He raised his drink slowly to his lips, looking forward.

"Whoever broke your heart, must have been crazy."

She turned to him instantly, a very confused expression on her face as she watched him toss his head back to finish his drink. He signalled to the bartender for another before turning his head to look at her.

Mouth agape slightly as she furrowed her brows at him. He couldn't help the smile that came at her reaction, he nodded toward the ring in her hands.

"Engagement ring, is it not?" He reached for his new drink without taking his eyes off her. She stared at it for a moment before answering solemnly. "It was."

She bit her lip while turning the ring over on her finger tips, as if unsure whether or not to continue. George reminded silent, not wanting to force anything from her she wasn't comfortable with. "I caught him cheating little over a week ago."

"He's a git." He said abruptly taking a mouthful of whiskey. The girl laughed at this turning to look at him.

"You sound so sure."

"I'm certain."

"You don't even know his name"

"No, but I've got a couple for him."

She laughed loudly this time, having to look away from him to compose herself. George could have listened to that laugh all night, he was suddenly very thankful for Fred all but pushing him out of the flat earlier.

When she turned back to face him her cheeks were burning pink and she'd bit her lip slightly. He was taken by her completely. Which is stupid, he thought, because he doesn't even know her name. Shit. He doesn't know her name!

"I'm George, by the way" he reached his arm out to her.

"[Y/N]" she smiled taking his hand.

"Can I buy you a fresh drink?" He nodded toward the warm, flat beverage sat infront of her.

Hesitating slightly she stared into his eyes before nodding with a sincere smile.

They spoke for ages about Everything. Nothing. Hell anything that came up. He couldn't work out how someone could possibly have said goodbye to a girl like her. Nobody in their right mind could. He was smitten, with all of her. The way she smiled. Her laugh. They way she bit her lip when she tried not to blush. The way she played with her hair. He was oblivious to everything in that pub except her. As she was with him.

That was until the distinct sound of her favourite song peirced her ears. She hadn't taken her eyes off him for more than a second since he bought her that first drink, and there'd been a lot since then. Suddenly she was looking over at the band in the corner, smiling.

"I love this song"

He didn't know why the idea came to him, probably from the overwhelming urge to touch her he's been resisting for so long. To hold her. Kiss her. Guess this works as well...

He stood, finishing his drink in a single gulp and held his hand out for her. "Come on."

"What?"

"We're going to dance" he grinned at her.

"Oh, no. I am a terrible dancer!"

"Same, love. No excuses." He winked at her taking her hand and pulled her up.

"One second" she pulled back a step but kept her hand in his. She turned to grab her mostly full drink, chugging it and placing the empty glass back against the rest, before turning her attention back to him.

George let out a haughty laugh at the action. Her grip on his tightened as she glared playfully at him, then taking the lead walked out onto the dance floor where he twirled her around and they danced next to one another not caring about how silly their moves must have looked as neither cared they couldn't dance.

They stayed out there the rest of the night, until the band announced their last songs were coming up. Slow songs. All couples on the floor began to move together. [Y/N] glanced around nervously before her eyes trailed back up to him, he was smiling down to her. Hand outstretched. She took it willingly and he pulled her into him where he began to sway.

"And you said you couldn't dance" she joked as she noticed he'd clearly done this before. He shrugged. "May have learned a move or two at school".

As the music went on the two of them only got closer, his arms wrapped around her as she lay against his chest. George let his chin gently rest on the top of her head, eyes closed enjoying the moment. It was perfect. Until, he felt a notable sigh leave her chest. Not at all content. It was sharp and she was obviously thinking about something she rather wouldn't be. He pulled back slightly to look down at her.

"Hey...what's up?"

"Sorry." She spoke to his chest "I didn't mean t-I just..." stumbling over her words she mentally kicked herself for ruining the moment. Taking a step back as she shook her head, she let go of him. George felt cold without her. "It's not you. I just-"

"You were thinking about him."

[Y/N] looked up at him with sad, apologetic eyes.

"It's okay, [Y/N/N]" he closed the space between them and ran his hand down her shoulders to her elbows. "I understand."

"It's just...all this...the slow dancing, the feelings I have right now..."she stopped herself, staring down at her shoes.

"Hey," he moved to cup her face in his hands. Bringing her face back up to look at him. His brows were furrowed and he had such a sincere look on his face [Y/N] could have melted right there. How could someone she only just met hold so much more love in his eyes toward her than her ex-fiancè ever did? "I like you." She spoke before he could. Georges eyes widened at the words, a smile began to creep on his face. Her hands came to rest on his arms as his hands fell to hold below her jaw. "I just...I don't know how you can be looking at me like that. When you barely know me, but then I was with-" "the git." She laughed at his interruption but still dropped her head to stare at the floor sadly "When I was with, the git, for 3 years and he never..."

"Listen to me." George ducked himself, as his finger tilted her chin up to look at him, "You deserve so much better than him. I don't have a clue how a prat like him managed to wrangle a winner like you but..." his eyes were flicking frantically between hers, desperate for the right words, "whoever couldn't see the girl that I see right now wasn't looking at you, love. If I know one thing is true...if you let me, if you give me the chance. I'll never be like whoever broke your heart."

Tears were forming in her eyes. Biting her lip as a smile began to form. She nodded slowly. Then quickly as she threw an arm over his shoulder and around his neck to pull him into a kiss, followed swiftly by the other. His hands fell to her waist. They felt perfect together. [Y/N] couldn't believe she'd nearly married some cheating git, when there was a man like this out there. A man so full of love, and compassion and pure joy he could light a dark room with nothing but his smile.

As the song that was playing slowly faded to an end the two finally parted lips, smiles so giddy they felt like Second Years again. She fell back into his chest as her arms came down to wrap around him, eyes closed listening to the sound of his heart beat and breathing as the bands last song began to play.

"I kinda wanna thank him." George spoke. She looked up at him, mouth slightly agape, brows furrowed, utterly confused. He couldnt help but chuckle at the look she was giving him. "Well, if he didn't do what he did, you'd never have ended up here in my arms." He smirked causing [Y/N] to roll her eyes before pulling herself back into him. "That's so cheesey" he felt her laughter quiver through his chest. He kissed the top of her head. "Get used to it"

#my 2nd ever fanfic 🥳🥳🥳🥳#harry potter fanfiction #fred and goerge weasley #george weasley x reader #George weasley #george weasley imagine #George weasley/reader #george weasley fluff #whoever broke your heart murphy elmore #murphy elmore #music inspired fanfic #fred weasley x reader

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fitzs-trained-monkey · 3 years ago

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Chapter Three: If We Have Each Other.

~When the world's not perfect When the world's not kind If we have each other then we'll both be fine. I will be your brother and I'll hold your hand. You should know I'll be there for you. I will always be there for you~

"Dude, we are in some serious jelly," I proclaimed as I paced around the small perimeter of the tree house.

"And that jam!" Isaac added from where he remained sitting at the table.

"Tight spot."

"Indeed!"

"Up a tree!" I supplied.

"Lost in the grass!" He offered. I swung around, shaking my finger at him.

"I'll tell ya what's grass, our- AAH FRACKLES!" I had stepped on a stray nail in one of the floorboards. Hobbling my way back into my chair, I thunked my head against the table.

"But look at the bright side." Isaac leaned back in his chair. "Seeing as how our grand-theft-hairbrush is going viral and all, there is still a chance that me flipping the camera off could become a meme!" He pointed out. Slowly, I raised my head to stare at him.

"Are you kidding me right now?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"Consider it, Marty! All it took was five years being dead and now I'm finally fulfilling my life-long dream! If I'd known it was this easy, I would have killed myself a long time ago and spared me all that drama and emotional damage," Isaac smirked. I shook my head, my gaze drifted back to the Vader figure and snow globe sitting side-by-side on the shelf.

"Please don't talk like that Isaac," I sighed. Isaac's face fell.

"Sorry, I-I wasn't thinking," He apologized. I nodded.

"It's okay." It wasn't, but what more could be said when you didn't want to speak?

"Hey," Isaac spoke softly, ducking his head to get me to look at him, "Even if things go sour, I'm gonna be here for you. Just like I promised. Through thick and thin, remember?"

"Through thick and thin."

Smiling weakly, I repeated our life long mantra. I took a deep breath and focused back in on the problem.

"Alright, man. We gotta figure out a game plan. That video is gonna bring every hunter and their mom up here to ice our, or my, gluteus maximus. And if they know about the minimart then they know about the hospital. So, what's our play?"

"Well, I say you use your Sweet-Talkin' thing and talk any o'those alcoholic weirdos out of it," Isaac suggested. I shook my head.

"Isaac, you know how much I hate doing that."

Although it was a tempting idea, that wasn't something I wanted to mess with. If you start playing with the dark things, the dark things start playing with you. That wasn't a concept I liked, but Isaac would never understand that.

"I'm just saying it’s an option! And an easy one at that," Isaac pushed. I glared at him.

"I'm not doing that."

"It might come to it, Marty. I'm just saying as a plan C it-"

"The answer is no! Moving on." My tone killed and buried the subject. Isaac raised his hands in surrender.

"Fine. But misinformation is still our strongest tool. We should use it. Tell anybody who asks that it was all done on a computer," He conceded.

"Alright, that's plan A. What's plan B?" Isaac's face twisted in thought. I let him do any and all planning when it came to telling a lie because he was so much better at making it convincing than I was. Isaac was the king of spouting believable bull crap. In fact, he would have made and excellent demon. That guy could probably get an angel to sell its soul for a box of holy doughnuts. When the idea hit Isaac's brain, I could almost see a light bulb light up above his head. He leaned forward, exited.

"Okay, I got it. We make up some BS story about a gay black dude who got chopped up by the ferry or something and the hospital wouldn't help him because all the doctors were racist homophobes, and it was the 50's." He nodded at me very seriously. Like I said, Isaac was king.

"That's is the worst, most ridiculous and stupid story I have ever heard," I told him. Isaac's nodding grew more excited. "It's perfect. They'll buy every word. Just one thing though, what about the mini-mart?" I pointed out.

Isaac opened his mouth before closing it again. Then he opened it. Then he closed it. Open. Closed. Open. Closed. This happened several more times before he finally came up with something good.

"So, our gay black guy was also a nice hobo dude and after he died he started stealing crap to give to his hobo buddies." Isaac gave me a thumbs up. I nodded.

"Okay, sounds good, sounds good. How do we explain me?" I splayed my hands. Isaac huffed and rolled his eyes, leaning back again and tucking his hands behind his head.

"Well, that’s easy. The camera never even caught a glimpse of your face, so you're his anonymous theft buddy slash item distributer!" He explained. I grinned at my fantastic phantasmal co-conspirator.

"Excellent, and of course nobody knows who the thief is. Especially not, innocent little me!" I chuckled at his brilliance.

"Exactly!" Isaac smirked.

"It's perfect! Except one last thing. We're gonna need some eyes and ears in on this. Someone to alert us when someone fishy comes lurking about," I said. Isaac nodded seriously.

"You're right. But who can we trust around here?" He asked. I could feel the smile split across my face.

"I can think of only one man for this job. A man as trustworthy as he is slimy. A man scrubbed clean by his own filth. A man so wonderful, words do him no justice!" I declared dramatically. Isaac was confused for a moment before realization dawned. His face fell.

"Please tell me you're not thinking what I think you're thinking."

"I think I am." I grinned. Isaac just sighed.

"Marty, no."

"Marty, yes!"

- 45 minutes later-

"Yo! Danny, my man! How's life?" I called out. Dan-the-Dope-Man looked up from...whatever it was he was doing outside Copper Harbor's one and only pharmacy. The pharmacy which he, in fact, owned. Honestly, I didn't want to know exactly what he had been doing behind the pile of cardboard boxes that were stacked up against the moldy brick. I figured it was better if I didn't. Dan smiled a grin that was missing two teeth.

"Marty! My worst customer and only friend! Life's good!" He greeted me, kicking a few of the boxes over to hide whatever suspicious activity it was that he had been up to. He winked and walked over to me, pushing his absolutely disgusting blond hair out of his face. "But, you know, business is betta'," He concluded.

I could never tell how tall Dan was, in this form especially. See, Dan-the-Dope-Man was a shapeshifter, though of course, no one else in the town knew that. That's how he was the owner of the pharmacy as well as a drug dealer. His other form, Jonathan De’ Santos, was the tall, 40-year-old, honest-looking Hawaiian man that ran the pharmacy. In this form, however, Dan was a somewhere-in-the-upper-five-foot-range Caucasian guy from Brooklyn with a thing against bathing. He said that the grungy, sewer-rat look was better for his side business. I wasn't sure how much of that I bought, but then again, who's gonna buy drugs from the guy who's supposed to make sure you don't destroy yourself with them.

"I bet it is!" I said, taking a step back when he reached me because, like I said, the guy had a thing against hygiene.

"This is a terrible, terrible idea," Isaac muttered, leaning on the wall to my left. I couldn't reply to him because although Dan knew what I was he didn't know about Isaac. So all I could do was give him a rude gesture behind my back. He saw it and stuck his tongue out at me.

"What can I do fo' ya, Marty?" Dan always pronounced my name as 'Mawty' at least in this form as it had a Brooklyn accent.

"Well, o' Danny boy, I have some rather bad news to deliver," I continued, "There might be some hunters coming to town soon."

Dan frowned; his eyes narrowed at me as he folded his arms over his chest.

"Well, that ain't good. Whatt'id ya do, Marty?" He asked. Sometimes Dan could be like my older brother, even if he didn't realize it.

"Woah, woah, woah! Who said I did anything?!" I defended. Dan just raised an eyebrow.

"You're always showin' off and ya know it," He said simply.

"He's right, you know," Isaac interjected. I wished I could tell him to shut his eidolic cake hole. It wouldn't have made much of a difference if I could, as he would still have continued talking, but the principle remained the same. Isaac was annoying. He needed to shut his mouth now and again. But I couldn't say that right now because he was a flipping ghost and ghosts are invisible. Mostly.

Ignoring Isaac, I opened my mouth to try to argue with Dan but quickly closed it again when found that I couldn't, because he was absolutely right. Now, I couldn’t admit that to him because Isaac was right here and that would be saying that he was right about something, and that was a thing I would never hear the end of.

"In regards," I started again.

"You'd just say 'regardless'," Isaac chimed in. I had to physically bite my tongue to keep from screaming at him to shut up.

"Regardless," I corrected. Isaac chuckled. I really needed to get myself some iron gauntlets or something so I could give his apparitional arse an involuntary appendectomy. Or just an iron ring so I could punch him in the face.

"Regardless, it wasn't me. This time. It was some attention seeking moron with a computer. That combined with my little hospital trips and you get something fishy looking." I finally managed to finish my sentence without Isaac chiming in.

"Well then ya betta' keep ya head down, Marty. I don' wan' ya gettin hurt." A dark look crossed over Dan's usually upbeat face. "Or worse," He finished.

"I know Danny, which is why I need you to do something for me," I said. Isaac sighed and face palmed but I ignored it.

"What?" Dan asked.

"I need you to watch out for any newcomers asking weird questions. I've got a plan if any hunters get too close to us, I just need to know who and where they are," I told him.

See, the pharmacy, the mini-mart, the bar, and the barber shop all sat across from each other at a four way intersection. Thus, Dan would have an excellent view of any hunter's first two targets. The origin of the supernatural activity, in this case the mini-mart, and the bar. He would be the perfect spy. Dan looked at me strangely.

"Say, Marty, you ain't plannin' on gankin' any a' dose' suckas' now are ya?" He asked, caution evident in his voice. I sighed, shaking my head internally. This was just another downside of being what I was. Everybody thinks you're a murderer. Though I knew I was far from innocent, I had never killed anyone. At least, anyone who didn't deserve it.

"Come on, Danny. In all the time you've known me, have I ever, er, ganked anyone?" I asked him, spreading my hands as if to catch the obvious answer.

"Well, no. But people can change," Dan pointed out. I rolled my eyes.

"Dan, I'm not gonna kill anyone. There, ya happy?" I said, only mildly aggravated. Isaac decided it was time to speak up again.

"You may not. But I will. If it comes to that. I won't let anybody hurt you, Marty. Not again. Not when I can do something about it."

I knew he was saying this now so I wouldn't be able to argue with him. Then I would forget and if he did kill someone Isaac would say he'd said he would. I ground my teeth together and reminded myself that it wasn't going to come to that. I wouldn't let it.

Meanwhile, Dan thought about what I'd spoken aloud.

"Yeah okay, but if anybody comes sniffin' I'm skippin', kay?" He agreed. I nodded.

"Okay, take care of yourself, Danny."

"You too, Marty." I smiled at him and began to walk away. Isaac pushed himself off the wall and trudged behind me, complaining loudly.

"Make sure you take care of yourself too, Issac! I'd hate myself if anything happened to you, Isaac! I wouldn't be able to survive without you, Isaac! Thanks Marty, your friendship means everything to me!" He said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Ugh! Why do I even bother?"

I smirked giving him the sign for 'I love you' behind my back.

"Aw shut up!"

But I knew he was smiling.

~So, I'm thankful for my sister even though sometimes we fight When high school wasn't easy, she's the reason I survived. I know she'd never leave me and I hate to see her cry. I just wanna tell her that I'm always by her side. I just wanna tell her that...

The worlds not perfect, but it’s not that bad. If we've got each other and that’s all we have I will be your brother and I'll hold your hand You should know I'll be there for you When the world's not perfect When the world's not kind If we have each other then we'll both be fine I will be your brother and I'll hold your hand You should know I'll be there for you.

I will always be there for you.~

Lyrics from: If We Have Each Other by Alec Benjamin

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shijiujun · 4 years ago

Note

thirst follow au for chuyao? (i dunno if you still take prompt requests for chuyao but i just discovered the prompt list you posted and if you do still take prompts i'd love read your version for chuyao of this!!)

new celebrity lu yao + ceo of the company lu yao is signed under qiao chusheng

---

The first thing that Lu Yao does once he’s alone these days is open his Weibo app and scroll to a particular account to look for updates. It doesn’t matter if he’s just started break after his filming sequence, or when he gets home after a day of long activities, before he does anything, Lu Yao is on his phone and checking through @/乔楚生mmc.

“Yao Yao, are you checking through Qiao-zong’s Weibo again?” his manager sighs as she enters the waiting room that has been allocated to Lu Yao for the duration of this period drama shoot.

“... Jie,” Lu Yao grins suddenly, showing her his phone, “Look at him at the ELLE Fashion event, he’s not wearing an inside shirt! It’s just a blazer over, I saw his fans yelling about this earlier but I didn’t have time to check, he just-”

Man Man-jie, his manager, tries not to be exasperated with him, but it has honestly been two months since Lu Yao discovered Qiao Chusheng, the CEO of Qing Long Ying Shi, the largest entertainment and media company in the country, after he visited one of Lu Yao’s shoots.

Not for Lu Yao of course, but for the world-renowned director that Lu Yao and every other crew and cast member in this production is working with - suffice to say, Lu Yao laid eyes on their company’s CEO for the first time since he signed on a year ago, and he hasn’t been able to keep away from him since.

It makes him wonder why Qiao Chusheng did not become a star himself, but Man Man said that the man has always had a knack for business development, and the company has only grown stronger after Boss Bai, the man who founded it and who is also Qiao Chusheng’s adoptive father, relinquished the position to him.

“How did you not know Qiao Chusheng is the CEO of this company?! Your paychecks are getting signed by him!”

“Aiya.... Jie, it’s not like I come across him at all... And I thought our CEO was some old man...”

Lu Yao immediately followed Qiao-zong on all his social media accounts because the man is certified exceptional in looks and body. He won’t admit it, but the best thing he likes about Qiao Chusheng aside from his arms, his muscles, his chiseled jaw, those sharp eyes, that hot body, is definitely the man’s smile.

It’s too embarrassing to say though, so Lu Yao stalks him online instead, on his private account that no one knows about. And because it’s a private and almost empty account, Lu Yao dares to leave emoji responses and some comments from time to time.

Today, Lu Yao replied Qiao Chusheng’s post with five thumbs-ups and five fire emojis. On second thought, he adds:

“哥哥帅爆了! 哥哥看我一下~”*

Man Man looks over his shoulder to glance at the comment and rolls her eyes so hard that she almost pulls something in her neck.

“You know, one of these days, if anyone finds out, you’re dead,” she shakes her head. “When that time comes, you’re on your own. Don’t expect me to clean up on your behalf. Also, Qiao-zong is only a year older than you are, and you’re calling him gege?”

“Hey!” Lu Yao exclaims, indignant, “I have to present myself as one of his young girl fans right? If anyone ever finds out about my account, i can at least roll my eyes and ask if I would ever sound this disgusting, and then people will think twice.”

“Okay, if not that, then could you please change your Weibo name? You’re embarrassing me!”

Lu Yao frowns, confused. He thinks @/三土葱油饼 is a great handle for a social media account.

The best thing is, Qiao-zong has been oddly responsive to social media post comments recently, and he banters hilariously with fans when he has the time. Lu Yao hasn’t gotten that privilege yet, but Qiao-zong seems to be liking a lot of his fans’ posts as well, at least for those who post in the first hour of his new post, and those get likes.

Recently, it has also been Lu Yao’s personal mission to leave a comment and get a like by his Qiao-zong.

“Yao Yao, you’re so stupid, you know that? Not every single fangirl has the opportunity that you do. You literally have an excuse to go see him, you actually have access to him, his office floor? Company events? What game are you playing, stalking him on Weibo?”

Lu Yao tunes her out a little. It’s pretty fun to him, to be able to openly appreciate all these hot and amazing photos of Qiao-zong. Here, he can stare to his heart’s content, and he doesn’t have to hold back when he makes his comments. If he met Qiao Chusheng in person...

Well, of course he wants that too, but would he be more disappointed if Qiao Chusheng barely looks at him, or ignores him? Lu Yao isn’t a small artiste by any measure, and he did win the newcomer award two years ago, but there are so many experienced and legendary colleagues in his company too.

It is, after all, the country’s media and entertainment industry behemoth, and Lu Yao doesn’t have a complex - he knows what he’s worth right now, and it ain’t a whole damn lot.

When he comes out of the shower two hours later at home, he sees a notification on Weibo, and it says that @/乔楚生mmc has liked his comment!

His day made, Lu Yao flops back onto his bed and conks out for the next 24 hours.

===

Lu Yao can only thank his lucky stars because someone up there must really be looking out for him. If not, how can anyone explain Qiao Chusheng turning up at his shoot so frequently the week after?

Before this, Lu Yao had literally never seen the man even once aside from that very first meeting that began this whole thirst journey for him, and this week, Qiao-zong has visited every single day.

Of course, it’s not like he’s here for Lu Yao. According to some of his cast mates, Qiao Chusheng’s younger sister Bai Youning wrote the script for the last stage of their filming before the production wraps up, and asked her brother to stay on set to watch every scene being filmed.

The scriptwriter is usually on set for the parts she writes, but this particular segment of filming happened to clash with her honeymoon period with her new husband, but did that stop her from being involved? Not at all, and so busy Qiao Chusheng has to sit his ass down, note down what’s happening, and report back to his adopted sister at the end of each day.

Sadly, this segment will only take five days or less to complete, which means Lu Yao won’t be able to stare at Qiao-zong for much longer.

When will he shine brightly enough to catch Qiao-zong’s attention?

At the thought, Lu Yao slaps his own cheeks.

He only thinks of Qiao Chusheng as eye candy. He’s after a visual feast whenever he logs onto Weibo to catch the man’s updates. Qiao Chusheng is a pillar of strength for him mentally.

Lu Yao has no other untoward fantasy or goals when it comes to Qiao Chusheng.

None at all.

===

Somehow, Lu Yao ends up all drunk and boneless in Qiao-zong’s laps at the end of the week. As they expected, filming wrapped up officially earlier in the evening after Lu Yao filmed his very last scene, and since the CEO was present, there was no reason not to treat everyone on the production to a good meal.

Man Man temporarily left ten minutes ago to take on a call for another possible role for Lu Yao, and the room was cleared when Qiao Chusheng offered to book three huge karaoke rooms upstairs for the crew and cast to continue their party at after their dinner.

Lu Yao has had a bit too much to drink, and Man Man isn’t around to direct him elsewhere, so when the room has emptied, he is still seated, staring at his empty glass of wine.

Suddenly, he thinks of something, and immediately pats at his pockets for his phone.

“... Lu-xiansheng,” a voice sounds, “You’re not going to join them upstairs?”

“Mmm,” Lu Yao nods, trying to focus on his phone screen. “Going home.”

A nice-sounding chuckle echoes through the room then, “Can you get home like this?”

“I’m going on Weibo. Man-jie will send me home,” Lu Yao responds, almost sulking a little as he tries to find his favourite Weibo account.

There’s a bit of silence after that, and before Lu Yao can even scroll through today’s updates, a hand closes over the screen.

“You’re drunk, Lu Yao,” the same person says again. “You really shouldn’t be on Weibo. What if you post something by accident?”

Lu Yao pauses, and then he shakes his head, “I’m not posting anything.”

He turns and shows his ‘friend’ his phone screen, “See? It’s a private account, and... and... and I’m just... going to check on my favourite account.”

“Even then,” the man says again, exceedingly gentle and patient, “You should only look at Weibo when you’re sober.”

“No!” Lu Yao protests. “I have to check. I check this account everyday. See? See?”

There’s a long, long moment of silence as Lu Yao scrolls his way down the account, detailing which are his favourite photos. The man lets him go on, and because he’s cold, Lu Yao inches even closer to him.

The last thing he remembers is his new friend taking his phone from him.

===

It’s painfully bright when he wakes up, the light triggering a headache even before he opens his eyes. When he does, however, Lu Yao has to take a long, long moment to figure out just where the fuck he is.

He’s trying to massage the headache away with his fingers, seated up in bed but having zero energy to get out of it just yet, so when Qiao Chusheng walks through the door with a smile, Lu Yao just stares.

“You’re awake. Great, I got you some fried buns for breakfast, you okay with that? Man Man didn’t say you were on any sort of diet,” the man says casually, as if they are friends.

Lu Yao looks down at himself, and nearly jolts when he realizes he’s in nothing else but a bathrobe.

Before he can panic, Qiao Chusheng adds, “I thought you looked a little uncomfortable sleeping in your jeans and shirt yesterday.”

“I’m sorry,” Lu Yao rasps, trying to wrap his head around why Qiao Chusheng is here, why they’re in a hotel room, and why the fuck the man is even speaking to him in the first place-

He must have inconvenienced the man last night while he was drunk, and instead of throwing him to Man Man, Qiao Chusheng decided to take care of him instead. Maybe Qiao Chusheng could have left him on the streets or something, but he is after all an artist under his company, and if anything strange happened because Lu Yao was drunk, it would be bad for the reputation and image of the company if word got out.

Yes, that’s the only explanation for this.

“I’m sorry for the trouble, Qiao-zong,” Lu Yao says, inching his way out of bed.

“No trouble at all,” Qiao Chusheng replies. “Come and sit, have some breakfast before you go. I called Man Man, she should be here in a bit to pick you up.”

With that said, it isn’t good for Lu Yao to reject him and just run off no matter how much he wants to right now. He sits down opposite the man at the table, and then picks up the buns.

After he’s literally swallowed three whole buns, Qiao Chusheng comments idly, “I thought it was random when you chose your Weibo account handle, but it seems that you really like cong you bings?”

“Mnn,” Lu Yao nods, wolfing the buns down because he’s hungry as hell, and so he doesn’t’ really register the first part of the man’s sentence, not until he’s on the last bite of his bun.

And then he chokes.

“How did you-?!”

At that, Qiao Chusheng raises an eyebrow, “You showed me your phone yesterday, and introduced to me your favourite account.”

Lu Yao blanches, because he knows which account that is, and then Qiao Chusheng continues, amused, “You were telling me how nice his smile looks. How pretty his eyes are. How strong his arms probably are hidden under that suit. And that you guessed right, he actually does have six-pack-”

“Please stop,” Lu Yao croaks, mortified. “I...”

The man takes pity on him and stops as requested. Lu Yao is frozen in his seat, like a deer caught in headlights, wondering what he should say next.

Qiao Chusheng nods, “Would you like to have lunch with me later?”

“Are you firing me?”

“It’s just lunch,” he answers. “I’m technically your boss, so I understand if you’re uncomfortable with the idea but... we could do lunch, and see how it goes from there.”

And then Qiao Chusheng looks away a little, “And.. I may have been visiting the set not to supervise the interpretation of Youning’s script.”

Once again, it takes him a few solid seconds to connect the dots, and when it does, Lu Yao flushes completely red.

“... we could do lunch,” Lu Yao agrees finally. “But I have to go home and change first.”

When he looks up again, it’s that smile he sees.

===

Weeks later, Chusheng makes Lu Yao repeat every single message he’s left on his posts, all the embarrassing ones, refusing to move if he doesn’t. Lu Yao’s hands balls into fists in the sheets, and says no.

He left a lot of messages! How is he supposed to remember every single one of them?!

Chusheng makes a a convincing argument though, towering over him and not giving into Lu Yao’s requests to fuck him properly until Lu Yao says them. It ends with Lu Yao trying to concentrate enough to speak, word after word.

He’s going to unfollow his boyfriend on Weibo after this!

---

Notes:

1. Qiao Chusheng’s Weibo account name is @/乔楚生mmc = Qiao Chusheng MMC, and this is taken directly from Zhang Yunlong’s own Weibo handle, which is 张云龙mmc. MMC, as I recently found out from Hanyi, stands for mao mao chong = caterpillar/worm? HAHAHAHA

2. Lu Yao’s handle is @/三土葱油饼 = San Tu Cong You BIng, which is a combination of the name San Tu and his favourite fried buns HAHAHA that’s how QCS was inspired to buy fried buns for Lu Yao the morning after

3. The comment that Lu Yao left in Chinese above is: “哥哥帅爆了! 哥哥看我一下~” = Gege you’re handsome af, take a look at me please! Something like that, he was definitely kind of joking when he posted that, but you can imagine Lu Yao being a little troublemaker by posting those comments and once QCS realized it was him, it was payback time? Of course, QCS likes to hear his baobei Lu Yao say anything <3

#asks #mriad #my roommate is a detective #民国奇探 #chuyao #fic prompt #hahahhahhha ded

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