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bbrandy2002 · 4 years ago

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Little Shit:

Part 1: Wrapped Around A Finger

This is for week 96 of @wackydrabbles prompt: I can't -- I have a deadline. Prompt will be in bold.

Okay, so I couldnt fit all of this into the 2000 word limit and had to break it up and didn't have the heart to cut.

@kingliam2019 you made a request for a Little Shit story on New Year’s Eve and it only took 5 months to come up with something, so this one is for you.

If you're unfamiliar with the Little Shit series (because it has been over a year since I wrote anything for it) Nikolas is Liam and Riley's 5 year old mischievous son who just can't help from wreaking havoc, especially toward Drake. He enjoys getting a rise out of him even if he does love his Uncle ... for the most part.

Warning: Crude Language. Mention of Covid and vaccinations.

Word count: 1928

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Returning from the stables one afternoon, Drake was stopped at the palace door by security -- again -- for not wearing the required mask to enter.

“Mr. Walker, I’m afraid you need to have a mask on before I can allow you inside. I have to tell you this every day.”

“That because I fucking live here,” Drake grumbled as he snagged the offered surgical mask from the guard.

“Not in the common areas, Mr. Walker.”

“You know this whole virus thing is just a conspiracy and Liam is using it to control all of us, right? He’s gone mad. This shit’s never gonna end.”

“I understand, sir.” The guard waited patiently as Drake begrudgingly slipped the mask over his face. “Perhaps, though, there is an alternative, one where you wouldn’t have to wear one anymore. They’re offering free vaccines in room 105 today. If you get the shot, you won’t need to wear a mask when you come inside,” the guard cajoled.

Drake let out a humorless laugh.“I’m sure that’s exactly what Liam wants: make a guinea pig out of me. Pump me full of that radioactive shit and in five years I’ll have a tail growing out of my face. No thanks.” Drake disregarded the information and moved past the man.

“But, sir .. .they’re giving away bottles of whiskey to the first 100 recipients. Last I heard, they were close to reaching that number. Top of the line stuff too.”

Drake turned on the heel of his work boots, glaring back, before asking skeptically. “Whiskey? They’re giving away alcohol to get this damn shot?” The guard nodded in response.

“Glenfiddich -- 1955, I believe. The King paid for it himself.”

Drake’s eyes widened in disbelief. “That’s a $90,000 bottle! And they’re just giving them away if you get this shot?”

“I … um … yes. His Majesty wants to reward those who are doing their part to create a healthier and safer Cordonia. He won’t rest until every last citizen is vaccinated from this dreaded virus. We can all fight this … together. What do you say, Mr. Walker? Will you help stop the spread?”

“For a $90,000 bottle of whiskey? Hell yeah! I’ll grow two tails out my heads for -- hold on a damn minute …” Drake burrowed his eyes into the guard who was sweating bullets, desperate for him to leave. “Where the hell is Nikolas at? This whole thing reeks of him..” Drake’s eyes began darting around the perimeter in a feverish search for the little prince’s battery operated car. “That little shit is blackmailing you, isn’t he? I should have known.”

The guard straightened and answered in a solemn tone, “I’m a serious professional, Mr. Walker. And I take your accusations of being anything but, demeaning to the loyalty and oath I’ve given to the Crown. How dare you stand there --”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise.” Drake ran a hand down his weary face in frustration. “It’s just that kid is the bane of my existence. I’ve had a long, hard day at work and I’m in no mood for his fucking stunts.”

The guard waved him off. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ve heard all about the stuff he’s pulled on you.” He leaned in closer and spoke in a hushed tone, “Between you and me, he’s a little pain in my ass too; always coming down here acting like he runs this place. If you ever need help teaching that kid a lesson, I’d be happy to help.”

Drake arched a brow. “Loyalty to the crown, huh?” The man regarded that retort with an awkward shrug. “Yeah, he needs his ass busted, that’s for sure. Liam thinks he just needs a little more love. I’d like to show him the Bianca F. Walker way of love.” He slammed his hands together.

The guard chuckled. “I’m with you on that. He needs something done; he’s out of control … Anyway, you should probably head on up there and get your shot -- and whiskey -- before they’re all out. I wish I’d have waited to get mine until today.”

Twisting his face in doubt, Drake walked around the corner and leaned up against the wall as he pulled out his phone. Something just didn’t feel right, and he determined the safest thing to do was shoot off a quick text to his best friend.

Drake: Liam, are you really giving away Glenfiddich, 1955, to get the Covid vaccine?

He waited a brief moment until a response came through; he looked down at his phone and read:

Liam: Yes.

Drake: Is that all you have to say about that?

Liam: Yes.

Liam: I am in meeting for Cordonia.

Drake tilted his head to the side and scratched at it as he stared at the odd message. He typed out another response.

Drake: What kind of meeting for Cordonia? And with who?

Liam: Top secret. Can't tell you.

Drake: Uh-huh. Where’s Nikolas?

Liam: With Riley and baby in Vallteria

Liam: Shit. Valtoria

Drake: What’s the capital of the United States?

Liam: Damn it Drake I’m in a meeting!

Drake: Then hurry up and answer

Liam: Washington D.C.

Drake: Who shot me at the costume ball?

Liam: You son of a bitch. IM IN A MEETING!

Drake let out a heavy groan and decided to just call Riley. He knew without a doubt Nikolas took Liam’s phone again. If he called Riley, though, there was no way the boy could pretend he was her.

Picking up almost instantly, Riley answered cheerfully, “Hello. Queen Riley speaking.”

“Riley, it’s Drake. I was just wondering if you and Liam were really giving away whiskey for getting this shot? Sounds a little fishy to me.”

There was a moment of silence, then a clicking noise, followed by a long beep, before Riley replied. “Yes. We. Are. Giving. Away …. Whiskey. Get.The.Shot.Drake.”

“The hell is wrong with your voice?”

“I.Am.In.Valtoria.”

“Riley, why the fuck are you enunciating every word?”

“I. Have. A. Cold. And. Must.Talk.Slow. Nikolas.Is.With.Me. And. I. Must. Get ... Going. Bye. Drake ...You. Ass. Hole.”

Drake rolled his eyes and slipped the phone in his back pocket. “He’s got her phone, too. Damn that evil-ass kid.” He hesitantly made his way down to room 105; it wouldn’t hurt anything just to open the door and see if there was anything legit about this. As he approached, a lovely lady he knew from the kitchen exited with a big smile on her aging face and a bottle she cradled in her arms; he recognized it almost instantly as the Glenfiddich.

“Miss Milly,” Drake greeting kindly and held the door open for her. “You’re looking as lovely as ever.”

“Oh, you.” She laughed bashfully in her grandmotherly voice as she stepped into the corridor. “You’re always flirting with me, Drake. One of these days, I’m going to make you take me out on a date, buy me dinner, and give me a peck on the cheek at the end of the night.”

Drake smiled back fondly at her. “You just tell me when, Miss Milly, and I’m there.” He motioned to the bottle in her hand. “Say … couldn’t help but notice that bottle of whiskey you’re carrying around; where’d you get that at? That brand doesn’t come cheap.”

“Ohhh, I know. But I heard they were giving shots in that room right there.” She pointed with a crooked finger. “And they said I was the 99th person to stop by, and gave this to me after getting my shot. I couldn’t believe my luck. And they only have one bottle left. I can finally put my grandson through college.”

“That’s great! And you said there is still one more bottle left?”

She nodded her head. “Yes. But you better hurry. One of the chefs is on his way here for a shot as well.”

Drake hurriedly kissed her on the cheek and opened the door. Thank you, Miss Milly!” He stepped inside, then stopped and whipped his head back out the door. “Milly, wait. Have you seen Prince Nikolas today?”

“Yes, he left with the Queen after breakfast this morning. I believe they mentioned going to Valtoria.”

Drake rubbed his hands together anxiously and thanked her. He’d known the cook for years, she’s the sweetest person he knew. There was no way she would cover for Nikolas, and Drake couldn’t imagine the boy would have any dirt to hold over her head.

When the door shut, Nikolas grinned mischievously from a dark alcove where he was parked in his black 12V Mercedes Benz S63. “This is the day I’ve been waiting for.”

He set his laptop and both parents' phones in the passenger seat and slowly pulled out. He paid $100 to Milly and asked her to put the bottle back in his father’s liquor cabinet and rolled a few paces to room 105.

======

After filling out medical forms, the palace doctor ushered Drake behind a curtain where a long rectangular table and folding chair sat. Taking the seat, Drake watched the doctor slip on a pair of gloves and pull a small tube of lube out of his lab coat pocket. Drake furrowed his brows in confusion. “Heh. What’s the lube for?” he chuckled lightly. “I’m just here for a shot, man. Nothing else is going in me.”

“Just relax, Mr. Walker. It’s all part of the process.” A squirt of clear liquid was squeezed onto the doctor's two gloved fingers as he held them up. “On your medical forms you denied having a physical exam in the past year. I just need to do a quick exam and check for rectal polyps.”

Drake started laughing in amusement, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’ve got to be shittin' me. So let me get this straight. I can’t get a shot until you stick your fingers in my ass to check for ‘polyps?’ Yeah, that’s happening. What a bunch of horse malarky.”

The doctor let out an annoyed huff. “I see you didn’t read over the information forms. They never do,’ he mumbled. “Look, if you want me to wait here all day while you figure out what to do, I can’t -- I have a deadline to finish here. Now if you’ll move along, I have another patient waiting; you’re free to go.”

And Drake knew he was. But that expensive bottle of Glenfiddich was calling his name. He glanced over to that one last beautiful bottle sitting atop a desk on the far side of the room, calling his name. Selling it for even half of what it was worth would afford him enough to move the hell out of the palace and get the freedom from Nik he desired. Rubbing a hand over the scruff on his chin, Drake's timid gaze turned from the bottle to the doctor. He could handle a finger or two in ass for a few seconds if t made him $90,000 richer.

“Okay. What do I need to do?”

Nikolas quietly typed on the keyboard of his laptop from the opposite side of the curtain. The images from the hidden cameras plastered on the wall where Drake was seated popped into view on his screen. Feeding a link to, and overriding the broadcast feed at the CBC, Nik crouched down low and waited with little beady eyes for the exam to begin. “Perfect ...Okay, Doc, let’s see if you can get a hole in one.”

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#Little Shit #Drake Walker #Liam x mc #trr #trr fanfiction

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silhouetteofacedar · 4 years ago

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Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 4: Man Pouts on Couch

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

Mulder is not feeling lucky.

In hindsight, he should have suspected something was off today; Scully kept looking at her watch.

It’s Friday, March 13th, and he thought it’d be cute to invite Scully out for a drink again, make a little joke about it becoming a Friday the 13th tradition. This could work, he thinks. His plan is simple; ask her out every once in a while, for some reason or another, with the intention of eventually coming clean and setting up a proper date.

At five o’clock he stands up and stretches with performative nonchalance. “Buy you a drink, Scully?” he asks, cocking his head towards the calendar pinned to the office wall, surrounded by newspaper clippings and grainy photos.

She pauses with her arm halfway into the sleeve of her coat. “I…” She falters and presses her lips together, looking suddenly guilty.

“What is it?” he asks quietly, a pit growing in his stomach.

“I’d love to, Mulder, but I actually have a date tonight.”

The earth stops spinning and Mulder is thrown off balance, hurtling through the atmosphere.

“Oh,” he says softly. “That doctor guy?”

Scully nods, not meeting his gaze. “His name is Mark,” she says. “We’re getting sushi.” She looks up at him then, big blue eyes soft. “A rain check?” she asks hopefully.

She owns him; one look like that and he’d sell his soul to buy her a cup of shitty coffee. “Sure. Another time, then,” Mulder says, gathering up every scrap of composure he has left, patching together a smile for her. “Have fun.”

He goes home and throws himself face down onto the couch.

She has a date. A real date, with a presumably mentally stable human man with a high-value job. And a daughter. A ready-made family, just add water and stir. This Mark guy probably calls her Dana, asks her how her mother’s doing, feeds her bits of sashimi with no threat of aliens or shadow governments in sight. Maybe he’ll kiss her at the end of the night, softly with closed lips like a gentleman.

What stings the most is the fact that this Doctor Mark had the balls to tell Scully outright that he’s interested in her romantically, something Mulder has yet to do.

Mulder knows he should eat, but his stomach is churning and the idea of food sickens him. He’s being dramatic and irrational; it’s just one date. But the implications are weighty, the potential enormous.

He feels bad for being upset. This is good for her; she needs to get out of the basement, connect with other rational people, find some normalcy and balance in her life.

You need those things too, he hears her say in his head.

He brushes it aside. It’s different for him; he created this life for himself. He’s a collapsed star, a black hole of conspiracy and paranoia that sucks in everything that gets too close. The last thing he wants is for her to get lost in his darkness, swallowed by the void like some interstellar debris.

She’d told him that night in Rock Creek Park that she does’t blame him for what’s happened to her, but that doesn’t assuage his guilt. He carries the weight of what she calls her choices, a load she has no intention of sharing with him, awaiting no acknowledgement or thanks.

He’s doing it to himself.

Mulder whiles away the hours on the couch, gazing up at the constellations of pencil marks on his ceiling, tossing his basketball above his head. He drops it on his face twice.

He knows it’s probably only going to make him feel worse, but he’s a glutton for punishment; so at eleven-thirty that night he picks up the phone and calls Scully.

He waits for her to answer, his heart sinking lower with each ring. She’s not picking up. Is she still out? he thinks anxiously. The guy has a kid, so it’s unlikely that they’d stay out too late unless he’s arranged it with his babysitter…

“Hello?” Scully’s slightly husky voice cuts through his thoughts.

“Scully,” he says, tentative relief creeping into his body.

“Mulder, what is it?” she asks. “It’s late. For normal people, anyway. Are you alright?”

“‘M’ fine,” he assures he. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

He hears her hum in understanding. Late night phone calls between them aren’t uncommon, after all. “Have you tried counting sheep?” she asks, not unkindly. “Or slowing your breathing down, focusing on the cadence of inhales and exhales like I showed you?”

He’s wide awake, sitting upright on his couch, still in the slacks and wrinkled button-down he wore to the office that day. “Yes,” he lies. “It’s not helping. There’s too much going on in my head right now.”

“You work too much,” she says gently. “And yet not enough, when deadlines are involved. We’ve got an impressive paperwork backlog-”

“Can we not talk about work right now?” He reaches down and unties his shoes. “Otherwise I’ll never get to sleep.”

“Right.” There’s rustling on her end. She’s in bed, he realizes.

“Did I wake you, Scully?” he asks, trying to hide his surprise.

“It’s fine, Mulder, I was only dozing,” she replies.

“Oh, how was the date?” he asks, as though it only just occurred to him, instead of being the only thing he’s thought about all night.

“It was nice,” she responds, and he drops his head onto the back of the couch in defeat. Shit. Shit shit shit shit-

“We talked about medicine, about cancer, loss. His daughter’s name is Amanda,” she continues. “Her mother - his wife - died when Mandy was only two, so he’s mostly raised her alone.”

“That’s rough,” Mulder says softly. Please don’t make me feel bad for this guy, Scully, I can’t bear it, he thinks.

“Mhm,” she agrees. “And his work at the hospital is pretty grueling, so his mother helps out a lot. I… I told him about Emily.”

“How’d that go?” Mulder asks, concerned. “It’s not the most… plausible-sounding story.”

“I was vague,” she replies. “All I really said was that I had recently reconnected with a child I’d been separated from, right before she died. He didn’t ask for details; he could probably tell it was a fresh wound.”

They’re silent for a moment.

“Do you think you’ll see him again?” Mulder asks quietly. Somehow he already knows what she’s going to say, and he braces himself for the sting of her words as they pierce his heart.

“I… I think I will,” Scully says, sounding distant. “I mean, it’s worth a shot, right?”

She deserves this. She deserves a chance at something ordinary, safe, comfortable.

“Maggie Scully didn’t raise a quitter,” he says with a watery smile she’ll never see.

She chuckles. “No, I suppose she didn’t,” Scully muses. He hears her yawn. “I’m tired out, Mulder. Think you can sleep now?”

“I’ll try,” he says. He’s surprised to feel his eyes beginning to burn with unshed tears. “Thanks for talking to me,” he adds.

“Anytime. Sleep well,” she says warmly, and the line goes dead.

He supposes he brought this on himself by keeping his feelings hidden. He waited too long, playing it safe. He wanted to gauge her feelings before he made any overt moves, and someone else beat him to it.

It’s just one date. But there’s going to be more. By the sound of it, she wants there to be more.

There’s no way he’s going to sleep well tonight.

He’s in a sour mood when he’s summoned to the Gunmen’s… den? lair? headquarters? the next afternoon, by way of one of their patented cryptic phone calls.

Byers unfastens the dozen locks on the door and lets him inside. “Mulder,” he says, ushering him in. “Good to see you.”

Mulder flops down in a rickety desk chair, exhaustion permeating his muscles. “I’m not up for being social today, boys,” he warns. “You said you had information for me?”

“We took the liberty of looking into Agent Scully’s new… uh, friend,” Byers says.

“For safety reason,” Langly adds, seeing Mulder’s lips purse.

“She’s precious cargo,” Frohike says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“How did you find him?” Mulder asks. “I didn’t even know his first name until yesterday.”

“Don’t insult us with your surprise,” Frohike mutters. “We’re experts.”

“We knew he’s a part of the parish Scully attends-“ Byers begins.

“And we knew he’s an ER doc, has a 6 year old daughter, and a dead wife,” Langly cuts in. “That’s plenty to go on.”

“I don’t need to know more than that,” Mulder says, suddenly feeling guilty. “It’s not my business.”

“Maybe not, but we have the info,” Frohike says. “Look, all you need to know is that he seems legit. Name’s Einolander, if you were curious.”

“I wasn’t,” Mulder lies, taking a sunflower seed out of his pocket and biting it pensively.

“Of course not,” Byers says, sounding completely unconvinced.

“You alright, Mulder?” Langly asks. “You look rough.”

“Of course he does,” Frohike hisses in the least subtle whisper of all time. “Scully’s dating someone that’s not him. Cut the guy some slack.”

“You guys don’t know shit,” Mulder grumbles, then backtracks, running his hands over his face. “I’m sorry. I, uh... didn’t sleep well.”

“It’s okay, man,” Langly says.

Frohike nods sagely. ”We know how you feel about her. This can’t be easy for you.”

Mulder wilts in his chair. “How did you know?” he asks pathetically, realizing the jig is up. Has he really been so obvious this whole time? Fucking hell.

“Look, knowing things is our business,” Byers explains. “And we know you. We’ve been around the block with you a few times, and nobody’s meant this much to you. Not even Diana.”

“Plus, Agent Scully is a smokeshow, and you have eyes,” Frohike adds. Byers gives him a jab with his elbow. “Hey, I stand by that,” he declares, rubbing his arm.

“Well thanks anyway, fellas,” Mulder says, standing. “I should get going. The walls in my apartment won’t stare at themselves.”

“Do you want the file we put together on the guy?” Byers asks. “We can make copies.”

Mulder shakes his head. “Keep it. Draw a mustache on his photo or something.” He picks up his coat and slings it over his shoulder. “You kids have fun.”

“If you need anything, just flag us down,” Frohike says, patting Mulder’s back before unlatching the door.

Mulder steps out the door, then turns back. “How old is this guy?”

“Forty-one,” Byers says, flipping through the file. “Five-foot-ten, dark blond hair, brown eyes. Blood type-”

Mulder holds up a hand. “I don’t want to know. Bye, guys.”

He gets a petty, juvenile satisfaction from the fact that he’s two inches taller and four years younger than Dr. Einolander. It’s short-lived, but at this point he’ll take what he can get.

Because he can’t get Scully.

#my fic #txf fic #msr #xfiles #fox mulder closet romantic #fmcr #OH SHIT YALL THE ANGST TRAIN IS PULLING INTO THE STATION #had to do it to em

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fbfh · 4 years ago

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I mean, you did ask - leo x reader

all characters are aged up to 18+ for smexy subtext

word count: 2k

pairing: leo x gn child of calliope reader

genre: adventure, romance, hints at a lowkey soulmate au

summary: after a bumpy reunion turned interrogation with your friends, you finally prove to Leo that you’re someone worth catching up with

warnings: swearing, friends hold you at knife point (for good reason) memory loss, dimesion/reality travel, the phrase “horrible sexy little goose” not about an actual animal, moderate time difference between worlds, reader is acting like a cocky piece of shit half the time, you call yourself sexy a lot, annabeth slaps reader and reader is unbothered, reader and leo hae very visceral reactions upon seeing each other, piper picks up on this, moderately aggressive face grabbing, discussing personal info with someone somewhat privately, brief mentions of hand holding and hair pulling during sex, you spill tea about the rest of the demisquad, I think that’s it pls tell me if I missed any

song rec: choke - i don’t know how but they found me

a/n: this is from a very vivid daydream I had so er ah if reader seems op coded that’s cause she is uwu

You were excited to reunite with your friends after so long, but being tied up and held hostage at knifepoint by the people you love who don’t even remember you wasn’t the welcome wagon you were hoping for. Then again, as a child of Calliope, you can’t say you’re surprised.

Apollo has a lot of kids, but demigod children of the muses are exceptionally less common. They’re volatile, really powerful, extremely engrossed in their art, and usually care more about their latest thesis paper or painting or manuscript than going on quests, and more often than not have very specific powers. You, for example, love quests but feel like you never get to go on any, usually because you’re fighting monsters somewhere else. One fun little power you inherited from your mom is - somewhat involuntary - dimension shifting.

A lot of times you just get summoned somewhere else, with a little inherent background knowledge and your weapon, set free into the new world like a horrible sexy little goose. There’s usually some kind of objective you need to meet; find this person, set something in motion, give someone support in a time of need, deliver a package. After that, you get sent back to your family at camp half blood. The catch, one of them at least, is that a few days Somewhere Else could be no more than a few minutes in your homeverse.

Another catch is that because of all that, and the fact that you wouldn’t know how to begin explaining, let alone if anyone would believe you, no one knows you can do this yet. Chiron has an idea, but you’ve never told anyone outright.

You guess now is as good of a time as any to come clean, as Percy holds his sword threateningly close to your neck. You let out a disbelieving laugh, and bite the inside of your cheek.

“Okay, okay… you want the truth?” he starts to back off, and you continue, leaning forward, “I’m not surprised you’d want to know where someone this sexy-” your words cut off as Annabeth’s hand slaps you across the face. You let out a laugh of disbelief, cheek stinging.

“A cheap shot, Annabeth? Wow, I really didn’t take you for the type,” she grabs your face, leaning in close, knife once again against your throat.

"How do you know my name." She hisses, and behind her, the door opens. Messy dark curls peek over her head in your vision and you know instantly who it is. Your heart starts pounding, loud and hard, and something heavy starts swirling deep in your gut. Your eyes lock as soon as he enters the room and an instinctive smile blooms on your face, knowing what's inevitably on its way.

"Hey Sparky…"

Your voice, slow and drawling (and, he'd be lying if he didn't say kind of very sexy) impales him as soon as he enters the room. He watches your pupils expand, eyes locked, immediately swept away by your magnetic aura. A fox like grin decorates your pretty face, and he gets the feeling you know more than you let on. Way more. He's so drawn to you on a guttural level, way more than he's ever been to someone before. His face is hot, and when you slowly wink at him, he feels flames erupt on his cheeks. It takes him a second to put it out, feeling your white hot gaze on him the entire time.

Piper, who's been helping with your interrogation, looks back and forth between you two as this progresses, taking in a breath and mumbling a shocked, "Oh," as she begins to understand.

"How are those repairs coming?" Jason asks, oblivious to everything that's happening between you two.

"Uh… nearly done…" Leo mutters, watching as you hold back an elated giggle at the sound of his voice. You never forget how good it feels to see him again, but the fresh feeling is always better than you can imagine. Jason glances between you two, and walks over to Leo, suspicious of your interest in him.

"I'll walk you back," Jason says, glaring at you. Your eyes stay locked with Leo's until the door finally closes again. Piper stares at you, bewildered by the tension turned to frantic energy crackling around both you and Leo. She can sense it on him even after he's out of the room.

Annabeth finally drops your face, pacing and pinching the bridge of her nose. Percy slams him hands down on the table and levels his face with yours.

"I'm gonna ask you one last time. How do you know us?"

You stare at the table for a second, still thinking about him. You have to see him again. You’ve waited for too long, you just can’t do it anymore.

“H- okay. Um,” You blink a few times, facade falling away almost instantly as you look up in a silent prayer that this doesn’t go as badly as you feel like it will. You sigh, looking back up at the other people in the room, a new, deliberate intention in your eyes that they hadn’t seen before.

“You want to know why I’m here?”

Their answer is the silence that follows.

“You’re not gonna believe me.” They look around at each other, collectively thinking about everything they’ve been through in the last year alone.

“Try us.” Annabeth replies. You sigh again, and introduce yourself. “...I’m a child of Calliope, muse of epic poetry, and I know you all because we grew up together. One of the fun - quirks, I inherited from my mom is traveling into different stories, or realities, I guess. It’s hard to control, and sometimes happens involuntarily. I adapt to wherever I am, and the universe sort of auto adjusts to follow the rules that stories have to follow.

The reason you don’t remember me is because I was gone for a really long time, and your story had to keep going. Trying to find me wouldn’t have moved the plot forward, questioning where I went would have been confusing, so it did the simplest thing and edited me out so you could get closer to meeting your objectives.”

Once again, their silence is your answer.

“Guys, sidebar.” Annabeth says, pulling Percy, Jason, and Piper out of the room for a moment. The come back in a little while later, and she looks you dead in the eye.

“If you really know us as well as you say you do, prove it. Tell us you’d only know if we were as close as you say we were.”

You sigh yet again, having lost count at how many times that’s happened today alone. You roll your shoulders and bob your head, irritable that you’re still restrained and itching to move.

“Is there anything we can do before the whole tell me something really personal thing?”

Percy looks at you, challenging.

“Can you do it or not?”

Another noise of exasperation leaves you, and you agree, resignation all over your face.

“You know what, yeah. Okay, we’re doing this. Someone go get Leo.” An involuntary smile once again launches onto your face at the mention of his name. Jason starts to object.

“Hey, I’m not going to spill something personal about someone when they’re not in the room.” They agree reluctantly, and Jason leaves, returning again with Leo. You look at him again, enraptured by his presence. He can’t say he doesn’t like the attention - a hottie like you looking at him like that? Yes, please - but something about it feels different, and he gets the feeling there’s a lot more going on than they’re aware of.

You nod your head once, indicating for him to come closer. He gets a little closer. You widen your eyes, nodding two more times, and he hesitantly gets within whispering distance.

You turn your head to your left, dangerously close to his face. He can feel his pulse already speeding up. Heat radiates between your faces, your breath fanning over his neck as you whisper slowly,

“You really… really like holding hands, and when I pull your hair during sex.”

He pulls away from you quickly, beet red, bewildered expression obvious to everyone in the room. “H-how-”

“How do you think?” You reply calmly, loving everything about him, “Okay, to be fair…” you nod once more, eyes flaring, and he leans in once again, equally hesitant and curious. Your words tickle his ear, seeming to light up his entire nervous system like a firecracker.

“I really really like when you bite that spot on my neck, just below my ear.”

He pulls away again, trying not to literally and figuratively combust. He stares in your eyes intensely, searching for anything besides the truth. He finds absolutely nothing. He turns around, unable to look his friends in the eye.

“They’re legit, guys.”

“Wait, what did you say to him?” Piper asks, unsure if she wants to know the answer.

“Yeah,” Annabeth agrees, “what if it’s some kind of mind control-” Your deep, burning desire to finally hold Leo after god knows how long is starting to beat your better judgement, and you really, really want to be untied from this stupid chair. “Annabeth! Your favorite show was Cyber Chase growing up, you used to come up with plans on how to defeat Hacker, your best was cutting off his food supply - good strategy, I’ve used it before, myself.

Percy, you feel like you can’t sing because you were forced to participate in an elementary school recital and some kid called you tonedeaf behind your back, it kicked you right in the RSD balls.

Piper, you’re a closet weeb, you watched Ouran High School Host club obsessively and still do sometimes, you fell for Jason because he had, quote, 'Tamaki's looks and Kyoya's brains, the ideal man'.

Jason, that scar on your lip is from biting a stapler as a child-"

"Okay, everyone knows that-"

"-and," you continue, showing no signs of stopping, "the reason you ate the stapler is because you were pretending to be a trash compactor because you saw one on TV.

Nico is totally not right outside the door keeping guard right now, but if he were and you asked him if he likes the diary of a wimpy kid movies he'll ask how the hell you know that - should I continue."

Again, the answers are in the silence hovering in the room.

“I think it’s about time to catch me up on what I missed.”

A beat passes.

“Right,” Annabeth says, blinking and readjusting her ponytail as she sits down across from you, Percy already taking the bindings off of your wrists, “so, about the quest…”

She starts to fill you in on the details you missed, bringing you up to speed. After a little while you all decide to call it a night. Piper senses your energy ramping up in spite of the exhaustion settling in. You finally bid them all good night, but Piper’s not sold by your forced yawns. After what feels like another lifetime, you finally leave the room you’ve been in for hours with one objective.

You can’t stay away from him anymore, you have to find Leo.

After navigating a maze of hallways and doors, you finally push open the right one to see him looking up at you, and find yourself saying for the second time tonight,

“Hey, Sparky…”

His heart is racing, and he gets that heavy, full feeling in his chest again, not having fully shaken it from the last time you saw each other. Looking into your eyes makes him nostalgic for something he can’t quite remember, and he knows with full certainty that you have more history than he’s aware of. He wants more than anything in this moment to remember. He sets down the wrench in his hand, taking a step toward you.

“Hey…”

#leo x reader #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s stepkid

Tony Stark x Potts!child!reader

warnings: alcohol mention

a/n: i rushed these so bad i just wanted to post dhhshsnsna

prompt: y/n is pepper’s kiddo!

it was just you and your mom for a long time

pepper and y/n potts

she couldn’t keep up with you sometimes, too busy dealing with the manchild that was mister anthony edward stark

speaking of—

“uh, who’s this?” -tony, pointing at you

“mr. stark, i am so sorry, the school closed because some kid set fire to the science lab and i didn’t have time to find a sitter—”

“no, it’s fine, no need to apologize. hey, kid, you wanna sit in the boss’s chair? i’ll let you run the company for the day!” *cue you nodding* “sweet, would you mind that, ms. potts?”

“oh? no, not at all” *mouthing* “thank you”

“so, uh, what’s your name? no, don’t tell me: ketchup.”

*giggling* “y/n”

“no way! that was my second guess!”

tony wasn’t used to being around kids

he had no idea that he was actually kind of good around them

despite a few minor hiccups

“you sit in my chair and im gonna spin you around, sound like fun?”

he spun you around WAY too fast and you were diiiiizzy, also you fell off the chair

“don’t tell your mom that we did that. she may be my assistant, but she scares the shit out of me. also, don’t say ‘shit’”

dude he just thought you were a cool kid!!!

“hey, you know, ms. potts, you dont really need to hire a babysitter anymore. y/n’s doing just fine hanging out here”

“how am i not surprised you befriended an actual child?”

she still took him up on his offer, you seemed pretty happy

when your mom worked late, you passed out in tonys office

tony and you had your own little secrets (like falling off the spinning chair), tony showed you around stark tower, and you practically lived there

“i got you a happy meal from mcdonalds!” -tony every day after your school

in all honesty, you weren’t the “popular” kid at school...not even close

but tony made up for it

“y/n! i found this old racecar toy in a box of old stuff, you wanna hold onto it for me?”

you kind of grew up in stark tower tbh? it was pretty cool

and as you grew up, you started to notice more

“mr. tony, do you have a crush on my mom?”

“do i what? no, no, i do—who the hell am i kidding? you caught me”

“called it!”

after that you did everything to try and get them together

when your mom was talking to tony, you would stand behind her and wiggle your eyebrows and just taunt tony endlessly

no! tony cannot remember your mom’s birthday for the life of him! you are his calendar now

“dude, why dont you just ask JARVIS to remind you?”

“i may be a genius, but that doesn’t mean i have common sense”

“wise words, sir” -JARVIS

when tony disappeared for 3 months you were so sad???? like you were not okay at all

and when he came back, he literally exited the plane saying “WHERE’S ‘T-POTT??’”

(your wonderful nickname. ‘t’ for ‘tony jr.’ and ‘pott’ for ‘potts’)

“my mom missed you”

“oh, i bet she did”

“you turned my child into you, tony. i will never forgive you for this”

“well, at least y/n was here to fill in for me, huh?”

tony wanted to show you the arc reactor but he was actually afraid of scarring you lmfaoooo

but he did let you in on the iron man secret (he knew you wouldn’t snitch)

and just to make sure:

“if you dont tell anyone, i’ll buy you a car when you turn 16”

“man, that’s like, forever away”

“good, maybe you’ll forget by then”

ur mom kinda maybe sorta found out abt iron man :/ she told you that tony was a bad influence

“mom! no, tony’s cool! he’s like a superhero”

“no, sweetie, he’s a rich guy with issues. we’re leaving”

that didn’t last long

not long at all

and soon they FINALLY got together

“jeez, i thought you two would never stop pining after each other”

“couldnt have done it without my wingman” -tony *fistbump*

“as thanks can i have my own iron man suit?”

“yes.” *pepper glaring at him* “no.”

sooner or later your mom and you moved into tony’s house and you got a really big room!!!!

it was completely decked out

king sized bed, flatscreen tv, mini-fridge, microwave, computer, your own bathroom with a smaller tv, a poster of tony??? (you vandalized it and put it in his workshop), and more!!!

okay you were spoiled

“do you like it here? are you sure i made the right choice?” -pepper

“are you kidding, mom? this is awesome! plus, you’re happy, i’m happy, tony’s happy, i think JARVIS is even happy!”

“i am, mx. potts. simply ecstatic” -JARVIS

pepper was really happy!! it was a pretty cool family

you started giving your school tony’s number if you ever got in trouble, you knew he’d cover for you

“mr. potts, is it?”

“sure”

“your child, y/n, punched another student in the face today. we’re very disappointed in their behavior”

“why’d they punch the kid?”

“well, the other student punched y/n first”

“HAH! thank you for wasting my time. send y/n back to class and call me back if something important comes up”

he literally gave you a high five when you got home

“i gave him a black eye!”

“i couldn’t be more proud. i mean, i dont condone violence, but self defense is a whole other story”

a little help in the workshop, tony asks you to hold the flashlight

“why don’t you get one of your robots to hold this for you?”

“are you kidding me, you’re complaining? we’re having stepdad/stepkid bonding time! and dum-e can’t do anything right, i dont trust him”

youve had a few theme park trips as a family ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

also tony has 100% told you to wait in the car and then left you alone for 2+ hours

“i’m not like a regular dad, im a step-dad. want some beer? you can have a little sip. i’d rather you do it in the house”

your mother actually does love how he actually cares about you!

“y/n is 12% my responsibility” -tony

“tony, you are impossible” -pepper

no avengering for you! pepper said no!!!!!!

disappointed but not surprised

iron man 3: y/n potts is put through the wringer

Text Message to Mr. Tony: bro you better come get your girl, me and happy are watching this other guy flirting with her. he’s showing her pics of his ‘big brain’

Mr. Tony: HE WHAT

Text Message to Mr. Tony: Tony he looks creepy i don’t want him to be my new stepdad do something!!!

anyways ur house kinda blew up and ur mom and you kinda got kidnapped and u were right abt that guy being creepy and thankfully no experiments were done on you but like your mom kinda almost died and her and tony were fine!!! all good in the end

you met mr. col. james rhodes that day

“aw, you’re the kid ive heard so much about” -rhodey

“you mean the coolest kid in the world?check.”

“you cant tell me you aren’t tony’s biological child, good god”

you got to meet the avengers later on too! (you’d already met natasha tho, only briefly)

“i know it can be a little overwhelming, right? meeting all these heros, legends even—” -rhodey

“oh, my god, is that thor? thor!!” -you, leaving rhodey in the dust

literally why does pepper trust you around tony something always goes wrong there were literally robots attacking, you were only at avengers tower bc your mom was busy with the company and she thought you’d be safe with the avengers. the AVENGERS.

“please dont tell your mom that i created a bad robot that tried to kill us. the robot will be the least of our problems” -tony

he made happy pick you up and you had to miss out on FUN and it sucked a lot

“it’s okay, y/n! i’m fun, too!” -happy

then your mom and tony took a break and your life got mega-boring for a while, but they weren’t separated for that long. you try not to think about it. it was brutal

Mr. Tony: Does she miss me?

New Message to Mr. Tony: I think so. Either that or she’s crying and drinking wine in the dark for no reason.

Mr. Tony: Damn it, now I feel bad. I miss her a lot. Oh, also, the Avengers say ‘hi,’ I’m in Germany with some bad news, I’ll explain later if you don’t see it on TV first, and I found you the perfect friend! His name is Peter and I think you’d like the school he goes to, it’s in Midtown. Smart kid school.

New Message to Mr. Tony: I’ll look into it, thanks. Also, I don’t like how those all connect. Please update me asap

watching the news to see several avengers arrested, cap on the run, and more!

“maybe it was good i didn’t fall in with the avengers”

tony and pepper finally got back together and you actually transferred to midtown high! peter and his friend group accepted you quickly, it was great. you and flash unfortunately had the most in common

you’d literally text happy right next to peter and he’d immediately reply to you. it hurt peter’s feelings

Momma: Sweetie! I’m working in the office late, leftovers are in the fridge, hope you have a wonderful day at school! 💕

👉👈the vulture tried to kill you for being tony’s stepkid, tony made peter promise to protect you

“y/n, you gotta stay out of harm’s way. mr. stark gave me an actual mission and it’s terrifying, i have to make sure you stay safe”

legit why the fuck was this old man tryna kill you bro grow up

anyyyywayssss your mom and tony got engaged!!

“wow, i thought the day would never come!!” -you

ppl told you tony isnt your stepdad bc ur mom and him werent married but who tf asked

why is the earth always in fucking danger

you and peter were just vibing on the field trip bus and all the sudden: space donut

“go! i’ll cover for you...FRIDAY, call tony”

“...hi there, little one”

“what the fuck”

“oh, so you see the aliens, too? well, at least im not crazy”

tony stark has left the atmosphere

you and your mom were kinda......not chillin tho

she and you didn’t sleep for a few nights, then ppl just straight up disappeared

plot twist: you survived the snap and your family was lucky to be alive, you even got a little sister who became a big handful!

only bad thing was all your friends dusted and you were pretty lonely

but watching morgan grow up kept you busy

“ahhh, shes so big!”

happy times in bad times

bad times!!!!! bc after five years thanos came back as thanos from like ten years ago. outdated thanos. obsolete thanos.

but you made your first and only appearance in the suit tony actually designed for you many years ago

you should have just stayed home tho bc that fight didnt pass the vibe check

“please dont tell me he...no, no, no, no, no”

you and your mom latched onto each other in tears, tony was one of the best people in your life, he made you and your mom two of the happiest people on earth

best stepdad a kid could ever ask for

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedgiantfavs // @emygirl // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @purpleskiesstorm // @ofthedewthesunlight //

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waynedunlaptheorgandonor · 4 years ago

Text

hey so “find me” dropped on premiere and i just watched it, so you know what that means??

it’s review time!

(super rambly as usual) spoilers under the cut

before i say anything, let me say, IT’S FINE, Y’ALL. as predicted. people are gonna be dramatic bc there are daryl/leah scenes, but like...we been knew? and some of them were rly important caryl-wise. (tbh, the episode was kind of boring and just a set-up for other stuff, lmfao)

okay, review:

opening credits, which i think most of us have already seen, were cute. obvi there was some weird tension with daryl that leads to the coming-to-a-head thing at the end, but their banter is still cute af

they went fishing and daryl’s reaction to carol was adorable, and there’s an important parallel later on, so bookmark this

similarly, there’s an important parallel to carol’s “the dead catch up to us eventually”/daryl’s “i ain’t gonna let it”, so bookmark that, too

dog is the instigator for the flashbacks, so if you wanna blame anyone, blame him. he races to the cabin, which for some reason daryl, who spent five years in this forest, seemed surprised to see? didn’t you literally map out that whole area, my dude? whatever

cue flashback!

i might have the scene order mixed up, but i think it starts with daryl being all sad by himself, and then dog as a puppy shows up and he’s like “!!! a dog!!!” which is v cute, and then he runs back off. we don’t meet leah yet

we see carol and daryl having a conversation while standing on opposite sides of a river for no reason except to probably symbolize distance or maybe covid, lol. the conversation basically goes:

carol: things are different

daryl: yeah

carol: how long are you gonna be out here?

daryl: -shrug emoji-

carol: i get why you’re out here, and i’d join you if things weren’t...

daryl: different

carol: yeah

daryl: yeah. anyway, it’s gonna rain, and also i’m having emotions, so ttyl

the end

at some point we see daryl sitting with an extremely unhappy face while it pours rain on him in the dark, and i want that as a reaction gif IMMEDIATELY

also the rain destroys his “where in the world is rick grimes?” map, which makes him v upset and scream-y, and we get the idea that he might be going a bit bonkers being all alone looking for a dead (or, ig, kidnapped by helicopter) man

in present day carol finds the note, and is like “oh dunk, she lived here??” so she knew about leah, and daryl’s like, “i already told you everything,” and carol’s like, “no you didn’t,” so we go back to flashbacks (but i’m still not sure what parts carol didn’t already know?? whatever, it’s not that important)

i’m just gonna hit the highlights of the flashbacks bc they were not that thrilling:

first time daryl meets leah the dog leads him to her cabin, and leah ties him to a chair and holds a gun to his head being like, “what are you doing on my land?” bc apparently you can claim whole forests during the apocalypse, and daryl says very little, and eventually she lets him go

next time dog finds daryl and he brings her back and leah is like, “the dog likes you” and they’re kinda flirty, and then daryl says very little and leaves

next time daryl is surrounded by walkers and leah shows up and helps and they hide in a tree and are awkwardly close to each other and daryl cannot handle the close physical contact so when the walkers pass he says very little except to tell her to never come back again, lmfao

the next flashback is my favorite bc daryl just fucking

goes to leah’s cabin and throws a fish at the door???

i laughed for ten years

he throws a fucking fish and then stands there for a minute like “is she gonna notice that i gave her a fish??” like, no, dumbass, you didn’t even knock, you just threw a fucking fish at her fucking door, what is wrong with you??

no wonder it’s taken him and carol so long if he thinks throwing fish at people is a smooth move. boy has NO fucking game

anyway, leah gets him back by finding him and throwing the fish at his head, being like, “wtf, don’t throw fish on my porch?” which, fair, leah

IMPORTANT CARYL PARALLEL (from here on out known as “caryllels”) #1: so earlier i mentioned the carol fish thing, and apparently the same thing happened with leah, where she speared a fish on her first try and daryl was like “tf?” v blatant “we are supposed to be thinking about carol and daryl’s relationship during this scene” sort of thing

leah’s backstory is bland. had a family, they got eaten or disappeared or something. she, her adopted son, and dog’s mom got away, but the kid was bit, and died the same day dog was born, bc ig when god closes one door, he replaces your dead son with a puppy, or however the idiom goes

ONLY PART THAT GOT ME LEGIT EMOTIONAL:

leah asked daryl who he lost, and he says, “my brother”

asklfdjaslfdjskl

god i miss rick

i hated rick for so long and now i miss him so much

but i digress

IMPORTANT CARYLLEL #2: leah and daryl have the same “the dead get you eventually”/”i ain’t gonna let it” conversation as caryl had earlier, only daryl is playing the role of carol in this scenario, so again we’re supposed to be comparing the two relationships. lemme get through the rest of the summary and then i’ll tell you my opinion on what that means

fuck what even happens next?

i have these out of order bc they were all the fucking same, but the two of them get closer, and there is the vaguest suggestion of sex ever. you literally only see daryl’s hand

then jump-cut to them sitting at the table being emo, ig bc daryl was gonna go back to look for rick for a bit, and leah is like “who do you belong with? your brother you won’t stop looking for? your family that you left? [side note: that seemed rather pointed, like, “hey hoe, you abandoned your family, that was kind of a dick move”] or me?” and he says he doesn’t know, and she’s like “yeah you do, now choose”

jump-cut to caryl scene where carol finds him at the river and says that she won’t be visiting as much, and daryl’s like “k” and they have a brief argument where daryl’s all snippy, like, “what? do you want my permission for you to move on with your life? i’m not still emo about the fact that you’re moving on with your life, and i also don’t think it’s contextually significant that every time you show up in my flashbacks you explicitly mention that you’re married and have a kid,” and carol is like, “bro, you need to Get Your Shit Together and come home”

jump-cut to daryl having what i’m assuming is an epiphany that carol/fam have all moved on while he was out being emo, and so he decides to go be with leah, except, plot twist! she’s gone. the picture of her and her son is gone, but dog is still there. daryl leaves the note, which says, “i belong with you, find me”

for those freaking out about the wording about the note, may i remind you that she specifically asked, “do you belong x, x, or with me?” so he was just answering the question

aaaaaand back to present day

carol is like, “what do you think happened to her?” and daryl is all -shrug emoji-, and then she’s like, “...do you think she might have just...you know...left?” and daryl gets rull offended, which was kind of funny

(she probably just left, bud)

carol tells daryl to stop thinking that when people leave it’s bc of him, and connie’s name gets thrown into the mix, and daryl gets a “oh here we fucking go” look on his face, and it sets him off

he said basically what we were already spoiled for. “you just want to run, you don’t know when to stop, i shouldn’t have taken you off the boat bc you still just want to run” etc

and carol looks fucking HEARTBROKEN, which hurt me, and she goes into the other room and we end the episode with daryl staring forlornly out of the window

the end

okay

so quick analysis

i think the significance of this episode is supposed to be so we have an understanding of why daryl is suddenly so !teamfamily, and !teamfuture, and how badly he wants carol to be there with him. at one point, one of them even says, “this isn’t about leah, or connie,” or anyone but the two of them. the title “find me” feels significant, bc the whole episode is daryl grappling with where he’s supposed to go, and what his purpose is, and by the end, he says to carol, “i know where i belong,” (implying, with her and the fam), pulling us full-circle. in the first flashback onward he is lost, but by the end he is found -cue amazing grace-

daryl and leah were flirty, but to me it felt very much like something that was just being used as daryl character development. we barely got anything that juicy between the two of them (except the fish throwing thing, that was amazing), and i still don’t think that it would make any sense, regardless of the showrunner, to pair daryl up with some rando after having so many other choices that people would have preferred. i don’t think we’re meant to #endgame ship it, so much as we are supposed to be like, “oh, ok, daryl learned the power of family and stability and leveled up, -you know what that is? growth gif-” as a result, i literally have no idea what leah’s role is gonna be in s11, but i don’t think it’ll be a huge plot point

so now we firmly know where daryl stands. he is all about moving forward, not looking back, and doing the best he can, and he’s frustrated bc when he took carol off the boat he wanted her to be in the same place as him so that they could grow together, but she wasn’t and isn’t there yet

so my guess is that what’s next for carol’s storyline is her reaching that same zen-level daryl’s at

once they’re both there, then they get to ride off into the sunset and make passionate love under the moon casting shadows over the vast desert wasteland

whew

anyway

tl;dr: idk, episode was fine, if not kinda boring. lots of caryllels. can i go back to writing my vietnam war au now?

the end

(stay hype, stan kang, and get daryl to call carol sweetheart 2k21),

-diz

#thank god i can move on with my life now #caryl #caryl spoilers #twd s10 spoiler #dunlap tp

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leofiat-bunny · 3 years ago

Text

DSN Ep 2 Part 1

"Somebody like Leo doesn't bring a single maid" I'm living for the spoilt prince vibes. 🤣

Holy SHIT

He doesn't do things by halves does he 👀 That place is HUGE. There are 2 of you and you will be sharing a bed! 🤦‍♀️

And with a pool, because that's a bare minimum for any non-savage I guess 😒

Watching the opening this time. Seeing the friends celebrate the victory; Leo's friends being no more cool than Fiat's for once.

Ooh, I wonder if we'll meet Beam today?

HIGH SCHOOL FLASHBACKS! HIGH SCHOOL FLASHBACKS! We're really getting them! It only makes sense but also !!!

[End credits]

... rich people

Ooh "Czech & Slovak Republics" ok. I'll look at the rest another time. Although that law book had a very prominent place.

"The main house" So his family already owned it? That... is that better or worse? I'm torn. [Update: I think they didn't and this is a new place entirely]

But Leo's so happy

Ooh INTERESTING. I like this. His family moved abroad. That's different.

Okay, fond memories of his mother, except she's only temporarily out of the picture. Family drama. Good. (Well, of the options, this one is probably my favourite.)

Also, it's nice that they do communicate well with most things - I'd not forgotten, but wasn't sure if they would. That will probably give the silly lack of communication a longer shelf life?

Okay... that was a weird flashback to have if you weren't going to show us anything???

"He's getting weaker by depending on you" - the number of things going through Leo's mind :

he's not weak you 🤬

he'll always be able to depend on me

it's good he has someone he can depend on

"[I make] you feel happy?" Cute!

PROGRESS! We've upgraded from "safe trip home" to "can I hug you?" 👏🥳

SO CUTE!!! A POUTY BABY!!! WHO WANTS ALL THE HUGS!!! <Beats up chair./>

Yeah, hugs are more difficult if you try and think about them.

Okay, I'm actually quite enjoying the sound effects here. 😳🤷‍♀️

Maybe I'm just being easy. You know what? That's fine. If something simple and ridiculous makes you happy: EMBRACE IT!

🤣 And Fiat loses patience and we take another step. 2 armed hug!

Okay, I'd heard "consent is sexy". I hadn't heard it was this fucking CUTE! This thing needs a warning label!

Well they were trying to!

Stomach cramps - I found that one legit funny.

It's really interesting that the friends hadn't spent time together before. Ooh... if Anda and ... Beam's character haven't spent time together then this series can establish a friendship and then we can have a sequel series 😎

AHHH THAT'S what the photo was about. I see.

So, we're embracing the flashback. Good. There are quite a few Leo crying scenes. Flashbacks would explain them without bringing in unanticipated angst (Fiat's crying scenes can be either flashback or anticipated angst re photos and family)

Also, I'd been worried about that "set him up with someone else" line. So, you know, that was the BEST POSSIBLE explanation of it. 🎉

You're both idiots now. You just switched to a less toxic brand. 🤷‍♀️

I think they are hoping to make a spinoff, probably with the twins both finding their future husbands. I'm all for it. 2nd seasons tend to be... poorly handled but spinoffs with LeoFiat as a beta pairing would allow them stability AND screentime. 🤞

#leofiat #don't say no liveblog #don't say no ep 2

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unlikelyempathpruneauthor · 4 years ago

Text

It For Me Part 2 mob!Harry x mob!Reader

Summary: after getting kidnapped by an enemy of the hollands, a plan of yours has risen and gets into action.

A/N: here is part 2, school kinda changed for me so that's why I didn't post it the day after part 1 was posted but here you go! I tagged those who liked and reblogged and those who asked to be tagged.

<<<<Previous Part | Next Part>>>>>

TW: uhhh, abduction or kidnapping? idk but some sort of that. mafia stuff, seducing bad guy?

As you felt you were being tied up to a chair with a bag over your head which was taken off and you had no idea where you were. Just then a big light flashed and you had seen who was right in front of you. Bernard “Mad dog” gledati. One of the dirtiest and young mobsters ever to live. No one ever worked with him, he was dirty and stole money, you knew he was one of dominics enemies and you didn't think you would meet him ever.

“Ahh, Bernard, why am i tied up?” you said trying to reach your bump to see if anything was wrong but all he did was he scoff.

“Ah darling, you know why, your father works for me and he sent you to a holland? I'm quite surprised because the hollands are also a long time enemy and they even got you pregnant huh.” he said as you smirked as he got close to your face you could feel his breath. The guards behind him untied your hands and they went straight to your bump making sure you were okay, Bernie saw your worry and chuckled.

“Darling you know i'm not a baby killer, your baby is fine, i got the nurses to check up on you,” he said as your body sighed in relief.

“Why am i here bernie?” you said getting straight to the point not wanting to be here with him a second longer.

“Well since you asked so politely i need something from you since i helped you out here with your child.” he said as he got close but this time with his gun trailing over your body and onto your bump. You knew he wouldn't hurt you but you were starting to question it, you had to do whatever to keep your baby safe, but there was a limit to what you could do.

“Depends on what it is.” you said very seducing as he licked his lips.

“Well you're not gonna like it,” he said as you frowned and placed your hand over you belly and you looked at him with your “innocent” eyes, but you knew what was up next, but you had to make sure they wouldn't do anything to your baby, they weren't apart of this part of your world.

….

Once Tom and Harrison got their consciousness back they quickly got out of the car hoping you got out to call harry or someone about the accident, but you were nowhere to be seen. Harrison was pretty freaked out with what just happened and Tom called his father telling him exactly what happened.

“S-shit…” Haz said as he realized one of the security cameras from the house were there and he knew it would have caught everything. He also noticed there was a note near the camera. He picked it up and it said..

You know who I am and everyone else will know too.

“Tom, look at this.” he said, getting Tom's attention and he too had realized who it was.

They all quickly went back to the house and Harry had been waiting for you to come back and when he realised you weren't with them he swore he was about to punch one of them.

“Where is y/n? Paddy told me she was with you guys and to get ice cream, really? You let my wife go get ice cream in a store, where someone could have seen her?!” he said screaming at them, he had every right to and well he was gonna scream more for what they were about to say. Harry felt their feelings of regret, they both wished they sent someone else, but you were a tough, independent woman..

“Harry, you need to sit down, please.'' Tom said as Harry did as he said and was quite confused and angry that they weren't able to tell him an answer about you.

“What the hell happened?” Harry said, getting impatient.

When they told Harry about you, he didn't even break down, he was just upset with both of them not letting them explain what had happened.

“Tom she's pregnant, Pregnant! Those mobsters will literally do anything to her, you should have talked to me first god damnit,” he said as he left those two and was on the way to find you and get you back.

Harry knew if anything happened to you it would be all his fault, that day he didn't do his hourly check on you and he kicked himself for not doing so. He knew you were strong, but since you got pregnant you had gotten a little more sensitive, he knew how the mafia men acted and he just wanted to find you fast and get you and your baby home. He swore at himself even more about not telling you his feelings towards you, he knew as soon as he saw you he would tell you or well show you. As he calmed himself down so he was stable to find you and everyone was doing their part to look for you, Dominic knew who planned the ambush and he felt quite guilty for it, but he knew he could apologise when they found you. When everyone was ready to set a plan, something was sent to Tom's phone. A video file. He had shown his dad and they had started playing it on the big screen they had.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

You had appeared as a light had been turned on, you had no bruises on you, you looked fine, you had your hand over your belly as you looked up at Bernie as you also looked at the camera, you knew this would be sent to them so you know you could get your plan out to them, you knew harry would understand it.

“Look y/n, i just need a favor that's all because i know all this, the marriage the pregnancy was planned, your father is a huge idiot, but i know your not, so tell me, everything about them, so i can ruin them.” he said as you continued to laugh.

Knowing that you were not hurt got everyone in relief, but the way you would look at Bernie was just a way to keep you alive. Harry knew that none of the things you said here that were seductive to him were real feelings, your mother had taught you well.

You moved around the chair as you looked at the camera and at him.

“Bernie, I know nothing, they didn't even let me touch a damn cup and if a part of me wanted to be with you it would have,” you said smiling at him as he just walked around you and his hand trailed around your jaw.

“Really, well then let just ruin him and his family, we can do it together.” he said as you looked up at him in all seriousness. You looked back down at your belly and shook your head.

“Well I don't know if i could do that,” you said as his grip on your jaw got harder and he leaned in to give you a harsh kiss. You wish you could have wiped your face, but you had to play your part.

“Fine, i'll tell you, they have this thing, filled with everything you can think of, the buried bakersfield cash, jewels, you name it, even that good stuff you like to fill your nose with and a list, it's pretty important by the way..” you said as he was attracted to what you had said and leaned in closer.

“What is she talking about?” Tom looked over at Harry as he shrugged trying to remember if you had mentioned something like this..

“I don't know Tom, I d-don't know...” he said as Harrison chipped in.

“She might still have her gun Harry what if she's planning to attack them herself.” harrison said as they continued to watch.

“Really, and what is the list.” he asked as you looked up knowing this trick was working.

“Well I can't really tell you that until you know i'm safe.” you said as he grew mad and you knew that would happen so you just gave in.

“You're no fun...Fine i'll tell, it's a list of every manufacturer and business they have owned and will own you know its just a stupid list.” you said as he was loving every word you had said. The list was key to business and well money.

“I know what she's talking about.” Harry said as they all looked at him surprised he knew this conversation well he just didn't think he would be doing that plan now.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

You two were late night talking about plans about your arrangement basically, you assumed this is what real couples would talk about just mafia style. This was short after you two had announced your relationship and when you two were just starting out to be best friends. These plans were not concrete then, but your “relationship” got more serious these things needed to be talked about, but Harry’s main priority was you and he wanted to know if you had a plan or not because he would have helped you with that.

“Okay if something would happen to me, there is this plan, I have the bakersfield cash clean, and i have other cash that is pretty dirty. So whoever has me you give them the dirty money, there's also a list, which looks legit, but it's actually companies that have been closed down or owned by an enemy of ours, also fake jewels and you know things that mafia men love, but before hand i will tell them about first then they get it.” you said as Harry laughed, admiring your plan. He thought you were the smartest and he wished he could just say his feelings but even the biggest mafia men are the pussiest, if that's even a word.

“Well that is very well sorted, how did you even think of it?” he asked as you smiled.

“Well my mom was killed by the enemy and there was no plan, so i suggested this incase of me to my father, and well now you know and so will your brothers and your father soon.” you said as he nodded.

“Oh right...I'm sorry about your mum.” he said as you shrugged.

“Don’t worry about it, it was years ago, but she was the best mom ever and she was my role model of what a person should be.” you said as Harry nodded and gave you a half smile.

“What was she like?” he asked as you smiled and continued to talk about your mom.

Your mom was everything to you and Harry was able to see that. You honestly don't know where you would be without the small moments you had with your mother. You hoped one day you would be like her when you had kids.That night Harry had hoped this plan would never be set ever, he couldn't lose you that quick, you meant everything to him even if he didn't show it because he was scared to.

Who knew that it would happen today...

Taglist:

@chumhandle101 @frenchquackson @ohmy-moonlightx @chanteeeeeee @osterfieldshollandgirl @sleepybesson @itshimz @howdycharlie @carrrieanne @hushberry @amandameeeh @rainypersonmuffinnerd @sizzlingoafeggsegg @atomicstudentlover-stuff @lavenderhollandx @lonelyforeverself @imcalledjasmijn @robertpattinson-th @aquawomxn @euphorichxlland

#harry holland #harry holland x yn #harry holland x you #harry holland fic #harry holland x reader #harry holland imagine

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platypanthewriter · 4 years ago

Text

The Prince and the Pauper (who drives an Uber) Ch. 6

(Prince Steve flees his wedding, and asks his Uber driver to take him bowling...and on a date. WIP) Part One | Two | Three | Four | Five

Billy’s phone rang seconds after the bell did, and he sat his books back down, checking to see whether it was Max’s school, and she’d finally decked that one kid that kept—but it wasn’t, it was Steve’s bowling picture, and Billy grabbed his books awkwardly and ducked around the people coming in for the next class, tucking his phone against his shoulder. “Steve,” he said.

“Tell me I’m not a moron,” Steve said. He sounded like he’d been running.

“You are a moron,” Billy said absently, crouching against the corridor wall to stuff his notebook and textbook into his bag. There was silence on the other end, and he bit his lip, considering. “I mean, uh.”

“...you’re such a help,” Steve said dryly.

“You’re into me,” Billy told him, and Steve groaned.

“No, that’s smart.”

“Then you’re smart! Ha,” Billy said, smirking, and Steve laughed, and blew air through his cheeks.

“...I have to sign a treaty today,” he said softly. “I had everyone else read it, all the smart people, but—but if it’s wrong, it’s still my fault.”

“Hey, hey,” Billy said, frowning. Somebody banged into him from behind, and he realized he’d stopped dead in the middle of the hallway. “Your Royalship—”

“This is why the people should elect their leaders,” Steve groaned, his voice hoarse. “I failed debate class! I—I’ve been reading so much about taxes, and—and water rights—the letters are blurring, and I don’t think I know any more than I did yesterd—”

“Breathe,” Billy told him, walking as fast as he could to the open balcony, and a blast of heat. “Babe. Breathe for me.” Steve took a shaky breath, and Billy bit his lips together hard against the need to curse himself for being such a fucking cunt. “Shit,” Billy whispered, and Steve started snickering. “You—you’re not a moron,” Billy admitted.

“I’m trying not to be,” Steve said softly. “Y’know they say royalty’s all inbred. Maybe that’s my problem, I probably have dumb royal braincells—”

Billy rolled his eyes. His skin shone with sweat already, and he let his eyes close against the glare. “Shut up, you’re not a moron. Did somebody say something shitty to you? ‘Cause I’ll fight ‘em.”

“I think if you punched the Minister of Agriculture, he’d die,” Steve said, laughing, with a sniffle. “He’s like a hundred years old.”

“Sounds like it’s time for me to punch him,” Billy growled, and smiled, listening to Steve giggle. “You tell me and I’m on a plane.”

“Maybe I should,” Steve said. “I’d get to see you.”

Billy shut his eyes tightly against the burst of fondness that rose and heated his cheeks, and when he could, laughed. “If you need me, I’ll figure it out,” he promised.

“I’ll be all right,” Steve said. “I just—” he sighed. “There just—there are some regulations that...somebody’s telling me they’re for safety, and we can’t let the corporations get away with, you know, giving people botulism—”

“Sounds pretty legit,” Billy nodded, biting his lip.

“But I’ve got somebody else saying it’s actually this new unnecessary process that wastes a bunch of food, and it’s just a way to drive the smaller growers out by making them adopt all this mechanical stuff—”

“...which one does that guy say?” Billy asked, leaning his elbows on the cement edge of the balcony. “The one that called you a moron.”

“Oh, he didn’t, he wouldn’t say it,” Steve laughed, sounding disheartened. “He just—”

“Do whatever he doesn’t want,” Billy hissed, and Steve’s laugh turned more genuine.

“No, no, he’s, uh, he is conservative, but he...he means well,” Steve sighed. “I don’t—”

“Okay,” Billy considered. “Who’s the most onboard with your unionizing?”

“What?”

“That isn’t patronizing at all. There somebody like that?”

“Ah,” Steve was quiet for a long moment, and Billy watched a lady down below unlock her car, climb in and roll down the windows, burn herself on the steering wheel, and scramble out to stand in the shade. “Maybe,” Steve said in a small voice. “But that’s got nothing to do with—”

“Go see what they think. They might at least know who’s in it for profits.”

“Yeah, okay,” Steve said. “I lo—” he cut off, clearing his throat. “I’m so glad I met you, Billy Hargrove.”

Billy’s heart was pounding with what he’d thought Steve was about to say, and he drew a slow breath, wide-eyed. “I’m pretty fucking happy I met you too,” he said back, feeling a little choked.

“Miss you,” Steve whispered, and Billy laughed, wanting to cry.

“Get your posh ass back here then,” he said.

The next day when he got home there were no lights on in any of the windows in the whole complex, and no porch lights. In the light of the street lamps over the parking area, he could see extension cords going in through the windows in half the apartments, like they’d all suddenly forgotten about fire hazards, and blankets stuffed in the gaps. He usually sat in the car for a minute, finishing out a song, and soaking in the last of the AC before he had to walk through the late night heat to their apartment building, but he slammed the door and stumbled in the darkness of the street door to the apartment stairs. When he ran around and up, there were no lights on in the hallways, and the heat was so thick it had weight. He unlocked the door by the light of his phone, and yelled for his sister, walking into what felt like a refrigerator.

“It’s fine,” came her voice, shouting through a door, and then closer. “The landlord didn’t pay the electricity bill,” she said, in a familiar voice that meant she was grimacing. “I, uh, I got some dry ice like the um, like, uh, it’s in the freezer and fridge.”

“What,” said Billy, finding her in the dim light from the digital display on the A/C unit plugged in in the middle of the kitchen, and awkwardly touching her shoulder. “Where’d this thing come from? Max. Tell me what’s going on. How long has the power been off.”

“Uh,” she said again, making a face, and then folding her arms. “I thought...you were working late tonight.”

“...did you think I wouldn’t notice there were no lights when I came in?!” he hissed, stalking away to sit wrong-way-round on a kitchen chair, and lean his head on his arms.

“No!” She waved her hands, an orangey grey blur in the darkness. “No, no, uh—it’s—um. I just—”

The power came on in a chorus of hums from the fridge and the overhead fluorescent lights, and the usual AC clicked on over the window with a wheeze. “...they got it back on,” he breathed, his shoulders dropping. “Do—do we have to pay the—is the money just gone, the money we paid for utilities? I can’t afford to—”

“Legally,” Max said, stepping forward to touch his elbow, “—it’s on him. It’s not on us. We won’t have to move, unless he pays for us to move.”

“What?” Billy asked, lifting his head, but Max’s phone rang, and she waved him away as she answered.

“...yeah, it’s back on,” she said, glancing back at Billy, and grimacing again. “Um, yeah. Thank you. Yeah, that’s all—no, we’re okay. It’s only been off a few hours! No, we’re—we’re really—thank you. Oh, really?” She snorted. “What happens to people who live in her buildings, then? Oh. Haha, sounds like she deserves it. Thank you. Wha—?” She listened for a few minutes, as Billy’s suspicions heightened, and then laughed again, sounding a little disbelieving. “Oh. Oh, no, um, the air conditioner’s great, I can box it back up for—oh. Uh, really?” Her brows drew together as she stared at it, and Billy registered the box it had come in, sitting to the side.

“Shit,” he whispered, quietly, into his sleeves, and waited for his step-sister to get off the phone. She bit her lips together, avoiding his eyes, and he cleared his throat. “They turned the power off,” he prompted her, and she nodded. “...and you called Steve.”

She nodded again, hunching her shoulders.

“He’s in charge of a country—”

“Yeah, I thought maybe he knew some lawyers,” she hissed back, and Billy's stomach went into freefall.

“You asked him to hire lawyers,” he whispered, registering that as a kid, she’d thrown down the only defense she had access to. “—and he sent over an AC unit, jesus. ...why didn’t you let me handle it? Why didn’t—you didn’t even call me—”

“You were working!” she yelled. “You were working all last night—"

"The power was off yesterday?!" he shouted back, "—there's a heat advisory—there are people collapsing out there—"

"You were at school all morning," she screamed back. "—I thought—I thought you’d be gone all night—”

Billy flinched at her volume, his eyes burning. “Sorry! Jesus, Max, I’m—I’m fucking sorry, okay, but you can’t just—”

“I couldn’t even make cup noodles,” she shouted, sounding like she wanted to cry herself, and Billy clenched his fists around the back of the chair, instead of running back downstairs to work more hours, or stomping off to sleep in his room.

“I have to work!” he yelled back. “I could have brought you some food, you didn’t even call me—”

“You said you trusted him!” she said, a little more quietly, her clenched fists shaking, and Billy remembered the look she had, her jaw set, too wary to look at him. He remembered it from living at home, and felt worse.

“I did say that,” he said numbly. “...fine.” She flinched back as he stood, and he froze, his eyes blurring with tears. “Sorry you had to...do that,” he said through gritted teeth. “I—I’ll call the—them, so next bullshit she tries, you don’t have to...deal with it.”

“I dealt with it fine,” she muttered, and Billy’s hands strained on the back of the chair until it creaked.

“...sorry,” he whispered, turning away to his room.

“Shut up!” she yelled after him, and Billy shouted back a “You shut up!” before he slammed the door, and sank down against it, and fumbled his phone out. He’d dialed before he realized it was two am in Greece, and he frantically shut it off, letting his head thump back against the door, and then thumping it harder a second and third time.

He stopped as his phone rang with Prince Charming’s song from Snow White.

“Sorry,” he answered, in a weird uneven hiss, and cleared his throat. “I’m so fucking sorry, now I fucking woke you up, I’m such a fucking moron—useless—asshole—”

“Billy,” Steve said, authoritative, and Billy sat up straighter, closing his eyes and clenching his fingers in his jeans.

“Y-yeah,” he whispered. He wondered whether it was worth apologizing again, and tried not to sniffle as he felt his tears spill over down his cheeks.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, and Billy let out a sob before he buried it in his sleeves.

“Of-of course I’m okay,” he laughed hoarsely. “My sister called my boyfriend ‘cause she knew I was useless, and he—he probably skipped a fucking—UN meeting or some shit—probably peace-talking with Iran right now and we’ll go to war because my air conditioning got turned off, and I’m so fucking useless my sister called you—”

“Billy. Billy,” Steve said again, in the calm voice Billy associated with his kinder teachers. “It was forty-nine degrees there, malaka, I checked online. And it took like thirty seconds, I just told my PA to make a call—”

“Shit, I probably owe you a million dollars in—in legal fees,” Billy realized aloud, letting his head thud back against the door again as he turned the number 49 in his head. He couldn’t make sense of it until he remembered with a shaky huff of laughter that Steve was a prince where they used celsius. “Jesus,” he whispered.

“You—no you don’t,” Steve huffed. “What the hell are you—Billy.” He sighed, and Billy pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, sighing into the warm fabric of his sleeves. “You don’t owe me anything, you don’t—” Steve started again, sounding annoyed, and Billy waited, shutting his eyes tighter. “I’m not that important, love, you’re not going to cause a war.”

“What,” Billy breathed, his comprehension stalling out in the middle.

“You can always call me,” Steve told him, breathing a little faster, and Billy pictured him pacing around his gold-and-marble room, walking over his bed in huge steps like it was steep terrain, and scrabbling at his hair. Billy took a slow breath, listening, as Steve repeated. “I love you. You can always call me.”

“Shit. I thought—” Billy took another deep, shaky breath, trying to focus his thoughts as he wiped more tears off his cheeks and relaxed, sliding sideways to curl up on his side against the foot of the door. “I get another chance still, huh?”

“...you thought I’d...dump you,” Steve said slowly.

“But you didn’t,” Billy laughed, giggling with relief. “Shit. God. You don’t—you don’t have to say shit like that, I’m not—I’m fine, jesus. Jesus.”

“Why’re you laughing?” Steve asked, and Billy laughed harder, wiping his eyes.

“Can’t believe you’re okay with this,” Billy whispered. “I figured—”

“You can ask for help,” Steve interrupted, and Billy smiled wider, curling around his phone.

“You just wanna strip show later, right?” he whispered, keeping his voice flirty when he wanted to snicker.

“...I seriously don’t know whether you’re kidding,” Steve said, and Billy sighed, pushing himself to your feet.

“...d’you want me to be?”

“I flubbed it and told you I loved you because you sounded upset, and you haven’t said anything, and now you’re laughing at me,” Steve growled, but he sounded a little whiny, and Billy wanted to wrap him in a soft sweatshirt again, and then unwrap him entirely, and kiss every square inch of his body.

“Uhhh,” he said to break the silence, his face heating as he thought of humiliating ways to reply.

“I’m going back to bed,” Steve sighed, and Billy spun to pace in his little room, hoping—like an idiot—that they were pacing in synch.

“No, no, wait,” he mumbled, then groaned. “I—I heard you, I thought—” he trailed off, and the silence lengthened. Finally, Billy forced out “What did you mean?”

“What?!” Steve laughed.

“What does that even—”

“Billy—”

“No, look, we—we fucked, right,” Billy said, waving his hand in a decisive chopping motion.

“...we fucked,” Steve said, real quiet, and Billy dropped to lay across his bed, staring at the ceiling.

“We fucked. A couple times. And—and now I call you sometimes when you’re flipping your shit—”

“Or when you are,” Steve put in, and Billy pulled the blanket over his head, groaning.

“I don’t—I didn’t that much, jesus. I flipped out a couple times, you—” Billy spoke louder, over Steve’s sputtering, “—you call me when I’m freaking out, asshole, you know you do that, Max fucking tells you, I didn’t ask for that, I don’t—”

“Why does this sound like I’m accused of a crime,” Steve muttered, and Billy stopped with his mouth still open, then closed it.

“No,” he said, thinking. “No, I didn’t—I don’t mean that, I mean...I just mean—you can’t—”

“I can’t what?” Steve asked.

“You can’t fall in love with a hot Uber driver you meet for like...a week,” Billy sighed. “Just because I told you some like...jokes. A couple times.”

“Billy. I have known you for months,” Steve told him, with the carefully articulated syllables of someone trying to sound patient.

“We haven’t even been able to talk much—”

“We talk nearly every day!” Steve laughed, sounding upset, and Billy’s eyes widened as he bit his lips, considering.

“...no,” he said quietly, laughing. “No fucking way.”

“...I’m going to hang up,” Steve said, and Billy sat up under the blanket.

“No, no, wait, you can’t—I’m not—it’s just—”

“I’m tired,” Steve told him, sounding kind of sad, and Billy scrambled for something to say.

“No, there hasn’t been a musical number,” he said, curling around his phone again to concentrate on Steve’s voice as he waited to see whether his prince would laugh.

“...what?!” Steve asked. “The hell are you—”

“I can fall for you,” Billy told him, feeling like the five short words took all his oxygen. “I—I can. F-fall in...but y-you’re a prince. Th-there hasn’t been a musical number.”

“...you saying you’re in love with me?” Steve asked, and Billy wanted to hide, his pounding heart telling him to say it, or Steve would be hurt, but also not to, because Billy Hargrove’s love wasn’t valuable enough to take up somebody’s time.

“...you tromped right the fuck into my—my heart when you tried to buy a plush winged buffalo,” Billy admitted, realizing he sounded a little pissed, which was truthful enough. “And I don’t need a fucking musical number. Even—even if you hadn’t called, y’know. Gotten in touch. Every time I hear your voice you’re a little more in here. I—I wake up thinking maybe I’ll hear from my prince today, try to—try to think of funny shit to say so you’ll keep calling…”

Steve made a noise like he was trying to laugh underwater.

“I reread your texts all the time when I need…” Billy trailed off, and took another deep breath. “You’re like a—a goddamn air freshener, I look at you and I—I listen to your dumb voice and it—everything’s—better,” he forced out. “Had to stop calling just to listen to your voicemail,” he admitted quietly. “‘Cause you kept calling me back. No matter what time it was, you’d call me back, and—and asking what—I-I there wasn’t anything I wanted, I just wanted...you.”

“Please keep calling my voicemail,” Steve laughed, sniffling. “I thought I scared you off, or—or maybe you were trying to leave bad news. How come you only call when you think I won’t answer?! I’ll always answer—”

“Don’t tell me this shit,” Billy hissed, “—I’ll take you up on this crap, I will, you’ll get fifty calls a day because I had to leave class—I was thinking about your dumb face today and I kept smiling at the professor and she thought I was high—”

“No!” Steve shouted back, laughing. “No, keep doing it! I want you thinking about me, you can—you can always—just call and tell me—”

Billy stuck out his tongue and blew loudly. “Oh, yeah,” he snorted. “Prince Steven, I’m horny. Ignore that—that ambassador, and watch me take my shirt off, your majesty—”

“Let me get somewhere I can unzip my slacks,” Steve laughed, and Billy snorted so hard he choked, coughing. ��Make some requests, maybe.”

“What d’you wanna request?” Billy asked, letting his voice come out husky. “I’m in bed, by the way. Bring it on.”

“You got time?” Steve asked, and Billy could hear his smile. “I want video of you saying you love me.”

“Fuck you,” Billy mumbled, wide-eyed. “What the shit—”

“I’ll call you from somewhere public,” Steve whispered. “Somewhere nobody can hear me, but everyone can see me, and I’ll talk you off.”

“Holy shit,” Billy breathed.

“Send me video of you in a hoodie,” Steve said. “Tell me you love me,” and Billy’s face heated enough to be the sole cause of the current heat advisory.

“No!” he hissed back, muffled, because he’d buried his face in the pillow. He was fairly sure it’d combust. “Fuck you! No!”

“Don’t you want me telling you how to touch yourself in my sash and uniform,” Steve whispered, snickering. “I’ll wear my crown. You know you want me to—”

“Oh my god,” Billy wheezed. “Now I do. What fucking kink even is that?!”

“I’ll go out on some palace balcony,” Steve said. “Maybe I’ll wave. While you’re squirming around with your hand on your dick. I’ll say stuff like ‘god, you sound amazing, babe,’ and ‘good job’.”

“...you motivational speaker,” Billy muttered, meaning it to insult.

“Do I get my video?”

“I don’t know, how good a job d’I have to do to hear it,” Billy shot back, then realized what he said, and buried his face again.

“...you wanna hear you did a good job?” Steve asked, and Billy mumbled ‘damn it, damn it, damn it’ into his pillow. “I can’t tell you you did a good job on my video until I get it, but I know you will,” he said, and Billy shivered.

“I was just kidding—” he tried to interrupt, but Steve just got louder.

“—you do such a good job with your sister, you’re amazing, taking classes and working, you’re not even twenty years old—” Billy groaned incoherently into his pillow, but Steve didn’t stop. “You always know what to say because you listen to me, like you listen to Max, you’re so good at that, you’re so good for me—”

Billy squirmed, shifting in his jeans, and rubbed the bridge of his nose, wishing his eyes would stop burning.

“I could have ended up in anyone’s car,” said Steve, “—I was—I was upset, and I didn’t know what I was doing, and—you—you were really good to me,” he mumbled, starting to sound embarrassed himself. “Say something.”

Billy took a deep, slow breath. “—walked in today and I thought—I realized Max got you to call us lawyers and I…” his breath gave out, and he shut his eyes tightly, pressing his lips together. Steve took a breath, but stayed quiet. “Thought you—thought you’d leave me hangin’,” Billy whispered, laughing. “Last, uh, last straw, this American slut dickhead who keeps taking you for more money.”

“I want to help,” Steve told him, hoarsely. “Billy. I want to help you.”

“You don’t have to!” Billy said, smiling into the middle distance, his eyes stinging with tears. “It’s not—that’s not what you’re for, your highness, you don’t always have to help.”

“I want to,” Steve huffed.

“You’d be perfect already if you were poor and stingy,” Billy told him, narrowing his eyes. “Stop overachieving. The hell am I supposed to say ‘love you’ to somebody like you. Whole universe just popped up an error window.”

“No, it didn’t,” Steve breathed, and Billy could hear him beaming through the phone. “Fuck do you mean musical number. You saying I have to write you a song? Because I—”

“No,” Billy interrupted, his eyes widening in horror. “No, I’m giving you shit, because you’re a prince—”

“Perform in karaoke? Should I rent some big venue, Billy?”

“No, no, no no no,” Billy sat up in bed, staring at the wall. “What?! No!”

“Tough crowd,” Steve said, laughing like a shithead, and Billy tried to resist snickering, his eyes widening in dread.

“No, no, it was a joke, you dumb fuck—”

“I’ll have to do both—”

“How do you even—” Billy roared, and Steve snickered.

“I better go get started,” he said, sing-songing it. “Did you know I can play the guitar?”

“Of course you fucking can,” Billy breathed. “You’re amazing. Stop, stop this right now—”

“Gonna write you a love song—” Steve sang, and to Billy’s horrified and charmed embarrassment, it sounded good.

“Oh no,” he whispered.

Steve made a kissy noise into the phone. “Love you too, babe. That’s just for practise, of course, ‘til I get that song done! Just keep saying I love you. Gotta get it right. Love you, love you, love you! Am I saying it right? It’s hard for princes to say these things without singing—”

“Shut up,” Billy croaked, like a frog.

“I need a rhyming dictionary for our musical number,” Steve sang, snickering, and Billy growled. “Maybe I’ll work my way up from limericks. Dick limericks. To dick sonnets. To dick epics—”

Billy hung up on him.

My other Harringrove stuff

#Harringrove #Billy helps his prince #Steve helps his Billy #They talk through some things #Fluff and angst #gooey idiots

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heli0s-writes · 5 years ago

Text

Fuckin’ Legit

Pairings: Reader x Bucky Barnes Summary: Follow up to Fuckin’ Teamwork, based off this ask. A/N: More silly shenanigans. Dumbass reader :) 2.1k words

Bag of Tricks Masterlist

Bucky watches from a distance as you hurl through the air and land right heel-first on the training dummy, knocking its head off and making it bounce off the floor with enough force to lodge itself into the ceiling. The room of SHIELD recruits clap and cheer, and when the dummy’s head flops back down you kick it like a hacky-sack at Maria Hill.

“Great demonstration,” Hill catches the head and tucks it under her arm. “Are you interested in teaching a course in hand-to-hand combat with a focus on aerial recovery? Legitimately?”

“Only if you promise not to fall in love with me.” You send a wink at her and then, as soon as you see Bucky’s bewildered face through the other side of the glass, you leap after him. He’s convinced you’re dumber than a bag of rocks, but you’re not deterred by it—especially not after Maria Hill’s validation. Puffing your chest, you skip forward, “Hey, Buck! I’m legit!”

Immediately, you trip and face plant into the nearest surface. The room collectively hisses in discomfort.

“I take that back.” Maria hurriedly ushers the recruits out before they can witness anything else.

Bucky slips through the door and roughly yanks you up by your elbow, wincing when your nose reveals a line of blood dripping into your mouth. “Legit, my ass. Come on. Stark called for us.”

The air in the conference room is stagnant and overwrought with a million unsaid—unscreamed—expressions. Tony pivots on his lifted heels, finger jabbing toward the big screen where a dark and grainy image is projected.

“Care to explain this? Friday pulled it from a broadcast coming from the cell.” He narrows his eyes at you as you slump down into the swivel chair until only the top of your head shows. “How about you?” Tony gestures to Bucky.

Tony has a laser pointer in his other hand, and he shines the red spotlight on the picture where Bucky’s knees are bent and planted to the ground. The dot trails over his thigh and then over the smaller frame beneath him.

You’re there, arched upward into his torso, legs hooked around his tapered waist, heels digging into his spine. Four of his thick flesh fingers are shoved inside your mouth, pulling your cheek open, and the dim light catches a sliver of your wet tongue. His other forearm is pushed onto your sternum, holding you down.

It looks bad.

It looks like Bucky is dry humping the daylights out of you in an abandoned Hydra facility.

Sam erupts into a screeching laugh when he finally pieces it together, pitching forward until he’s flattened against the wood table. “Ho-Homygod--- This is the best day of my life. Is this the cyanide incident?”

Bucky is red from head to toe.

Natasha rolls her eyes and slides away from the table. “Tony, she ate two cyanide capsules. Barnes was wrestling them out of her mouth.”

Tony stiffens for a moment as he ponders the truth behind her statement. Then, he quirks his head like an owl, flares his nostrils, and stoops beneath the table to find you resembling a boneless pile of flesh.

“Everyone is dismissed.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. “I wish I could fire you.”

A quiet whimper escapes your lips, the most pathetic noise to ever come from a human being. “But…” You whine pathetically, “I’m legit.”

A few nights later, you find yourself sneaking through yet another dusty old hideout. Surprise, surprise, Hydra is bad with maintenance and loves asbestos.

Steve made you an outline of all your tasks on his mission, written in all caps, folded neatly, and shoved it into your back pocket before departure. You skimmed over it on the plane before crumbling it up. The first bullet point had glared: NO CANDY.

Tightass.

You easily clear the wing and dispatch your status to Sam who is waiting patiently in the jet, fingers on the console. Bucky is patrolling the perimeter and you are taking the east side while Redwing zooms through the west.

There have been trip wires (newbie shit) and also surprisingly advanced attempts at entrapment so far (motion sensors, temperature regulated alarms). They’ve all been expertly pulled apart and rewired and you are taking a short break fucking around in the hallway, peering at dusty paintings of – some old dead bald guys. You take a picture of one and send it to Tony, labelled it’s like looking into the future.

Chortling, you continue down the corridor aimlessly until you hear a creak.

The knife in your hand is blade-first and coming down hard on the body sneaking up until— “Oh Barnes!” You cry happily, tucking it back into the strap on your wrist. “Good. You’re here! There’s only one more room—I’ve been crushing it.”

Literally two seconds after you say that, you turn the corner and run face-first into the door. Bucky pauses as if he doesn’t quite register what just happened before slowly reaching forward and gently applying pressure to the handle.

It’s written all over his face: you’re an idiot. You are seriously lacking some brain cells.

He leads the way carefully, swatting cobwebs hanging from the ceiling and taking stock of each corner, rifle pointed forward and alert. Behind him, your boots thump noisily against the floor and a chair is tipped over when your arm crashes into it.

Bucky spins on his heels and catches the chair before it can fall on top of what looks like a very obviously placed … box.

It’s a box.

A giant red box is on the floor, outlined with a square of white tape. Two abnormally unsoiled items in a room made almost entirely out of forty-year old dandruff. Your hands are already on both sides of it before Bucky can knock you out of the way.

“Don’t!” He screams because fucking anything could be under there!

A wild animal! A toxic chemical! A bomb! Snakes, for fuck’s sake! His eyes widen at the fading shadow cast on the floor as you lift the top away. Then, his heart stops beating.

It’s a slice of cake. And a cup of tea. A single slice of vanilla sheet cake neatly decorated with a blush-pink rose and two perfectly piped green leaves. The faint smell of jasmine wafts into the air.

Bucky barrels into you before you get the chance to lick your lips.

“Wilson!” He calls into the comm as you push his face away with an offended yelp, “They’re in the east side—set a trap for us! Get over here and bring your stupid bird too! I swear to God—NO! DO NOT!”

In the hovering Quinjet, Sam Wilson leaps to his feet and swoops out of the cabin, wings folded as he dives. “Come again?!” He taps on the comm wedged inside his left ear, “Barnes!?”

“-- fuck-- gonna—fucking--- stop BITING ME!”

A furious row of explosions blare in Sam’s ear as he banks a sharp left and lands on two feet, tearing his way inside the facility, checking on his wrist all the while. Redwing’s camera is glitching, but he can make out flashes of gunfire and what looks like at least five bodies, not including his two teammates. Bursts of white erupt on the screen and Sam’s heart picks up a tremendous pace before he kicks the door down, pistols out and aimed.

A silence smothers the room before grunting and screaming erupts again over Sam’s shout of, “What is going on in here?!”

“And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the exact moment I came upon my fellow Avengers,” Sam pauses, waving his hand with a bow at the image projected on the conference room screen.

Friday pulled another image from the broadcast before Sam shot out all the cameras in the facility.

It seems that the previous video of you eating cyanide had been intercepted through a bounced signal from the original recording’s output and those on the other end decided you were enough of a proper imbecile to be tricked by something as simple as a slice of cake.

They weren’t wrong.

Tony’s laser is in Sam’s hand and he points the dot in flashes five times, “Dead dudes. Check.” The dot moves on, landing on two splayed out legs before it runs up the side of Bucky’s body pressed to the concrete. “Barnes. Check.” Bucky shuts his eyes and slams his head into the table. “And… here we have this.”

Sam points to you, bottom lip clenched tightly between your teeth as you lurch forward, one hand outstretched and smeared with frosting while the other holds your torso barely an inch from the ground, paying no mind to the two elbows digging into your stomach. Sam points again to where your crotch is pushed right into Bucky’s face.

“Jesus Christ.” Steve mutters, flushing red, “I wrote you directions for a reason…”

“Excuse me,” You huff, “Cake is not candy.”

“Really?!” Bucky snaps, “That’s the hill you’re going to die on!? You ran into the door! You knocked over a chair! You looked at the one thing that did not belong in the room and you picked it up even after I told you not to!”

Steve jumps back into the grilling, “And if you would have read the rest of the list—NO FOOD AT ALL was number two!”

“Oh yeah!?” You’re near hysterical now, shrieking at the top of your lungs. Stupid men ganging up on you. “What was number three? No fun!? I’m Captain America and I’m such a tightass--”

Bucky cuts you off, throwing his hands up into the air, “Number three was get the blueprints!”

“Oh.”

The room falls silent as you tuck your hand into the pocket of your pants. “Why didn’t you just say so? I nabbed ‘em as soon as I got in there. Marked off the locations of all the cameras and security alarms—not like that matters since Wilson shot them and I disarmed the rest in the east wing. Also, there were corridors and secret entryways not in the file. It’s on here now.”

Carelessly, you chuck the flash drive from your pocket at Steve and it smacks him in the chest. Sam crosses his arms and cocks his head at you, “Shit. Didn’t know you were all that.”

You frolic to the door, “See ya later!”

Three men watch on in shocked silence as you prance down the hallway, banking a sharp right towards your room. Steve stares from Sam to Bucky and then to the flash drive in his hand.

Sam clucks, “You know what… All things considered… the girl is legit.”

He calls your name, bangs on the door with a hard fist and when it cracks open, you peek your head out with tired eyes. “Sup, buttercup?”

“Why are you like this? The cyanide? The cake? You had the flash drive the whole time!”

You shrug off what sounds like an accusation, “I dunno. I’m good at my job.” Bucky crosses his arms. “Barnes!” You scold with a growing grin, “I’m legit! I just… you know. Why put all the pressure on myself when you’re around?”

You snort a little, scratch your tummy underneath an oversized shirt absently, and shrug your shoulders repeatedly like you’re dancing. Bucky narrows his eyes. “Are you telling me you’re an idiot because of me?”

“Yeah, Buck. I know you’ll take care of me.”

He freezes. Feels a sudden swell of heat rush from his chest to the top of his head. Bucky opens his mouth to retort, but nothing comes out. He closes it. You give him a sleepy grin, leaning on the door and swinging it wide, faltering against the knob with a yelp.

Swiftly, and true to his character, Bucky catches you with one arm.

Hanging from his hold, body twisted around, you look up into his blue eyes. They’re strangely tender, dancing over your face with an inquisitive glimmer.

The moment shatters when Bucky’s gaze stops at your neckline. “Is that—" he frowns, “Is your shirt on backwards?”

You nod. “Uh huh. Inside out too.”

His eyes slip shut. With a sigh, he drops you flat on your back and turns around. “You’re an idiot. I hate you.”

Down the hallway as he stomps off, cursing the moment the thought you were cute or something… he hears your voice calling.

“I’m an idiot— but I’m legit, right? And I’m your idiot, right? Bucky? Bucky!”

Bucky holds back a grin. Flicks you off behind his back. Legit or not, he would never give you the satisfaction of knowing.

perm taglist @whothehellisbucky @serpentbaby @badassbaker @alagalaska @cake-writes @crist1216 @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @infinity-saga @jamesbarnesthighs @pinknerdpanda @xoxabs88xox @imsoft-barnes @momc95 @typicalangel @wretchedgoddess @readeity @iwannasail

#marvel #mcu #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #fanfiction #reader insert #crackfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #humor

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loudsuitlover · 5 years ago

Text

Doctor Harry V Golfa

A/N: Smut And I think it’s the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written. I’M NOT OKAY AFTER THESE 9K WORDS

Harry: Strain

Harry: Just dinner 😊

I read his text messages as if they were going to change or as if reading them several times is going to change the way I feel about this. About him.

I still don’t think this is quite right. I know Harry says this won’t affect me or my studies but just thinking about what people would think if they found out makes me sick at the pit of my stomach. I’m not really a judgy person. Most of the time I just simply don’t care enough about what people do so as to even talk about it but I still have pretty high standards. Harry is not a woman. That’s something he’d never get. He’s so chill about this because he’s a man and he knows no one would give him too much shit about this but I’m a woman and I’m a student and I bet if people found out they’d say I was doing him to get a high grade instead of what would be more likely that he was taking advantage of me because I’m younger and a student like he said before. None of them are true but the second would be more legit to think about even though I know people would rather choose the first.

I walk inside the restaurant alone. I insisted on coming here on my own. I would be mortified if someone had seen us walking down the street in the middle of the city centre together. He chose a rather expensive restaurant. Not that I care. Moreover, this is good; students won’t be there. I hope that was the reason he did it and not that he’s trying to impress me because trying to impress me with money is really not a good idea.

A waitress walks with me when I tell her the name of my date. I bet she’s jealous and I bet she too is wondering why someone like him would ever want to have dinner with me. I don’t know either. He stands up from his chair the minute he spots us and he grins like a movie star. I have to swallow the lump in my throat.

“Fuck.” He grins.

His inappropriate language surprises me. It contrasts with the rest of it, with his suit, the restaurant, the expensive cloth over the table. I give him a look and take a seat before he can play the gentleman and move my chair for me. I hate when guys do that.

“You look breath-taking.”

“Thank you.”

I don’t tell him he looks incredible even though he does. I’m not sure when I got this attitude towards him but it’s like I can’t stop. I’m just waiting for the moment he starts laughing and tell me this was all just a joke.

“Can I offer you something to drink?” The waitress asks us.

“What would you like to have?”

“May I have a glass of Sanamaro, please?”

The waitress nods and turns to look at Harry but he’s staring at me. The green of his eyes makes me nervous and I’m afraid the shell I’ve been working on the entire day might falter this early in the night.

“A bottle of water for me, thank you.”

Water? He smiles at me.

“You look really pretty with your lips painted red.”

I give him a sincere smile.

“You don’t have to compliment me.”

The corner of his lips turn into a delicious smile and I think I might need some water after all too.

“I was just thinking out loud.” He shrugs. “And you also know about wine.”

I shake my head.

“My dad loves wine.” I tell him. “And my mum’s Spanish.”

“She is?”

“Yes.”

“Do you speak Spanish then?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Sí.”

I grin at his reaction. I don’t know why he’s so fascinated about this. It’s not like I told him I know how to build aircrafts. I’m just bilingual and it’s not really on me or something to be excessively proud of. My family is bilingual so I am too. That’s all.

The waitress appears with my glass of wine and a bottle of water she places between us and asks whether we’re ready to order the dishes. We haven’t even looked at the menu so Harry shakes his head and I open the black menu in front of me. He mimics me and I run my eyes over the different meals, deciding on something that doesn’t make my breath stink. I love food that makes your breath stink, like blue cheese and garlic and onion. I remember my Nana used to tell me ladies shouldn’t eat those things outside of home and I remember the garlic bread banquets the two of us would have every time I stayed over with them. I feel a smile making its way on my mouth.

“What did you want to ask me?”

God, he doesn’t waste time. He must see the surprise on my expression because he chuckles.

“I want you to have fun.” He explains. “I don’t want you to be thinking all night when you can ask me your question so let’s just start with that and then I can have dinner with chill Indie.”

I almost flinch. It’s clear to see he doesn’t know me much. There’s no such thing as chill Indie.

“But you have to promise you won’t leave when I answer.” He raises his eyebrows.

The waitress comes back to take our orders. I feel like she’s some sort of cheetah waitress and she’s been hiding behind a ficus waiting for us to talk so she can jump and do her job. I hope she gets a high salary. She doesn’t even speak to us. Instead she just stands next to our table waiting for us to speak. I wonder if the owner asks minimum contact between waiters and clients. Some rich people are that stupid. Harry looks at me so I order first.

“I’d have roasted wild sea bass with basil oil, thank you.”

“And that’s it?” Harry asks me and I nod. “Do you like cheese?” I nod again and he smiles. “I’d have the white truffle entrecot and we’d share the French cheese board, please.”

He ordered cheese for sharing. I think I’m falling in love. I don’t know to what extent he was joking when he said I’d have to promise not to leave after I get my answer and even though I decided, after a long conversation with Marie, that I can’t just pretend going out with my mentor is alright; I don’t want him to think I’m here for any other reason that me wanting to be here so I tell him just that.

“I promise but Harry, I’m here because I want to be here.”

“Good.” He grins. “Now go on, ask me.”

“How can you be so sure you’ll answer even if you don’t know what I’m going to ask you?”

“Just to be sure, this is not the question, right?” He jokes.

I shake my head and chuckle.

“Well, I didn’t think you were going to ask something I wouldn’t want you to know but now that you said that, I’m not so sure.” He chuckles nervously.

I bring my glass of wine to my lips and enjoy the familiar taste and then I change my question.

“Why don’t you drink?”

His green eyes stare into mine as he keeps quite for a few seconds. He could have simply told me he just doesn’t feel like drinking tonight and then I would ask him whether he didn’t feel like drinking the other night at The Chains either and he could have said no again and that could have been it; but his reaction makes it clear that he does not drink.

“Do you need to know that?”

“Pardon?”

“Do you need to know that so as to get to know me?”

I shrug.

“I guess not. It’s more out of curiosity than it is out of need.”

He nods as his beautiful green eyes get lost somewhere behind me. Beautiful green eyes? Who am I? Jane Austen?

“I don’t like it.”

I set my eyes on his. I like that he’s not afraid of answering my questions. I like that he’s so carefree as if he doesn’t have a problem letting me get to know him but I don’t want to make him feel uncomfortable telling me things he doesn’t want to share. God knows I wouldn’t reciprocate with a secret.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

He breathes in.

“There’s nothing more to tell. It’s that simple.”

I nod. The waitress gets to the table with the cheese board before we can say something else. I swear this woman is the ninja of the tables. I chuckle at my own joke and feel my cheeks tinging pink just by thinking Harry would probably think that joke is so childish. I mean it is.

“I like your laughter.” He smiles. “I know you said I didn’t have to compliment you but I tend to say what’s on my mind so get used to it.”

“You’ll also tell me something bad?”

He drops a piece of emmental on his mouth and chews before he speaks.

“If I think it, yes.” He shrugs.

“Do you always do that?” I smile amused.

“What?” His eyes open in curiosity.

“Say what’s on your mind.”

“I mean, not always.” He laughs. “I know when to keep my mouth shut. Otherwise I wouldn’t have a job. But I don’t lie.”

“You never lie?”

He shakes his head smirking. He looks like a naughty kid. I instantly think if I were him, I would have said that out loud and chuckle again.

“You, on the other hand, don’t always say what’s on your mind.” He notices.

“Of course not.” I laugh.

“That’s why I’m holding back.” He smiles.

I take a breath. I don’t want him to hold him back. I think it’s funny when he’s so spontaneous and I envy him for that. I used to be pretty spontaneous too, according to those who loved me, but it’s been a long time since that.

“That’s a shame.” I smile. “I quite like it when you say weird things.”

“Weird things?” He chuckles, picking small pieces of cheese and bringing them to his mouth. “You said you liked cheese.”

“I do.”

“Then taste some.” He encourages me. “They’re really good.”

I study the board carefully. There’s camembert, brie, emmental, another type of pressed cheese I don’t know and two different blue cheese. I would gladly take one of the blue types, specially a little piece with too much blue on it to be Roquefort that’s calling my name but instead I wrap my fingers around a small piece of one of the pressed cheese and take a grape before pulling them both in my mouth. He's smiling at me in a way that makes me want to know what he’s thinking.

“What?” I talk with my mouth full making him chuckle.

“I’d want to kiss you even if you had that blue one, you know?”

My eyes widen and I feel the heat of the sun on my cheeks. He chuckles and takes the piece I was looking at before and places it on the corner of my plate the exact same second the waitress places it on the table.

I smile at him as I take the small bite to my mouth. I knew it was blue because it tasted like heaven. I think of my grandma and I think she would like him just by that little gesture. He might be more attentive that I give him credit for. Also, that stupid sentence has me wanting him to kiss me. I feel my mood lighten and grab another piece with another grape, probably to stop thinking about the kiss he mentioned.

“So you’re supposed to have them together.” He states.

I smile before I suck my lips inside my mouth and when I look back at him I catch him staring at my lips. I’m proud of myself for the choice of lipstick.

“I don’t know if that’s how you’re supposed to have them.” I seem to have nothing but smiles for him tonight. “But that’s how we eat them at home. You know in Spanish we say uva y queso sabe a beso.”

I can almost hear the air coming in through his nose as I say that. I think he really does like it that I can speak Spanish.

“It means grape and cheese taste like a kiss.” My eyes widen as my eyebrows raise on my forehead. It’s the first time I translate that to English. “It rhymes in English too.”

He chuckles. He seems to be having fun too.

“But does it?”

I shrug and look down at my plate before his green eyes put me under his spell. My phone starts vibrating uncontrollably on my purse. I wouldn’t normally check it but one never knows when David might try to kill.

“Sorry.”

Harry shrugs and shakes his head letting me know it’s okay but I just see that it’s The Golden Girls that are chatting and leave the phone on the table. After a couple minutes of silence on my part, I start receiving texts on the private chats and they pop on my locked screen.

Olivia: How is it going?

My eyes search for Harry’s but I’m met with a naughty smirk and eyes that look down at the table. He chuckles and my eyes almost bulge as I read Jason’s text.

Jason: What’s the size of his penis?

As fast as I can, I flip my phone leaving the screen facing the table and tack my hair behind my ear as I try to avoid to look into his eyes. He’s so nosy so I’m sure he read it. I’m going to kill Jason.

“You can pick up.” He says to my surprise.

“It’s not a call. It’s just texts.”

“Who texts you that much?” He smiles smugly. “You said you didn’t have a boyfriend.”

It surprises me how much my mood can change when I’m with him. One second I’m playing tough, the other he breaks my walls and I’m all smiley and then he acts as if he own the place and I see the wall rebuilding itself all over again.

“If I had a boyfriend, I wouldn’t be here.”

He must sense the change on my mood because his expression hardens and his smug smirk is gone, but only for a moment because then he shrugs and his obnoxious smirk is back on his face.

“We said it’s just a dinner anyway. You could have a boyfriend and still have dinner with other people.” He shrugs.

“Do you say that because you have a girlfriend?”

“I’ve told you before I don’t have a girlfriend.” A smile breaks through his face as he’s trying to hold back laughter.

“Is the question funny to you?”

“Kind of.” He chuckles. “I’ve just never had a girlfriend.”

My eyebrows raise.

“Never?”

He shakes his head as he busies himself with his steak.

“Why?”

“I don’t have time. I’ve never had time for that, really.”

“Well, if you had a girlfriend you could be having dinner with her right now.”

“And instead I’m having dinner with you.” He smirks. “I don’t want a girlfriend anyway.” He shrugs. “Too many strings attached.”

“It’s a relationship, not a boat.”

I don’t know why it bothers me. It was clear he hadn’t asked me on a date because he wanted a girlfriend but then I don’t understand why he’d insist on going out with me. Does that mean he’s only interested in me because of my body? It’s not like I’m the hottest woman in town. I’m not even the hottest woman in this room. He must have some weird fetiche or something.

“Do you meet many women at the hospital?” He raises his eyebrows encouraging me to go on. “Like you met me, for instance.” I shrug.

“No.” He shakes his head.

I hate that I like his answer. He chews on his steak with his green eyes investigating me. His hair has fallen on his forehead and he’s staring at me hard. It’s fascinating how attractive he really is. Black shirts look so good on him too. I entertain my eyes with the way the soft fabric falls on top of his broad shoulders and how they move up and down with his breathing. It’s calming me to watch him breathe.

“You always get uncomfortable when we talk about this.” He points out. My eyebrows almost meet. “Are you seeing someone?” He presses. “Maybe he’s not your boyfriend but it’s enough to make you tense up. It’s okay, you can tell me, I’m not jealous.” He smiles.

What makes me tense up is all these questions. Sometimes it feels like I’m on an interrogation and all of a sudden he wasn’t a doctor but a FBI agent. I look away from him.

“I’m just trying to understand.” He defends. “Your mood changes pretty easily.”

“So does yours.”

“No, it doesn’t.” He defends. “I’m enjoying my time with you, except when you get all cloudy and push me away.”

“You asked me out because you wanted to get to know me, didn’t you?”

He nods.

“Well, this is me.” I shrug. He better understands that now before he creates this idea of me on his head.

“Okay.” He says.

My eyes move up from the table to his. He gives me a peacemaker smile and my eyes narrow as my brows look for each other on a scowl.

“That easy?”

He just laughs.

“Easy? Indie, you’re anything but easy.” He chuckles. “But that’s okay.” He shrugs. “Nobody’s perfect. You’re intelligent, funny and breath-taking. You get to be blunt.”

“What about you?” I challenge.

“What about me?”

“What are your flaws?”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know you.” I shrug.

“You don’t need to know me to tell me what you think of me.”

I think you’re out of this planet. Way too much for me. Smart, interesting, handsome as fuck, attractive, sexy, funny, bold… And smug and confusing.

“I think you’re a liar.”

He frowns. I have to fight back a smile. He wasn’t expecting that.

“Why?”

“Because everybody lies and someone who says they don’t just mean they’re already lying.”

“I could have easily lied to you when you asked me why I didn’t drink.” He points out. “And I didn’t.” He shrugs. “Yet I agree with you. Most people lie, but I don’t.”

I nod. I don’t know why I believe him. I know it’s impossible not to lie ever but I believe he says mostly the truth. I look down at my plate and to my surprise I’m sad to realize it’s empty. I look at his. It’s empty too.

I’m afraid this is the end of the night for he was very clear when he said it was just a dinner and those were the conditions and I have lectures tomorrow at 8 am anyway. I look at him questioningly as he stands up.

“We didn’t ask for the bill.”

“It’s already paid for.”

“What?” I frown. “No.”

He frowns.

“We’re splitting.”

He rolls his eyes.

“Why do you never let me pay?” I remember the drink he payed for me on the Chains on Friday.

“Because there’s no need. I can pay for my own food.”

Had I known he was going to pay, I wouldn’t have ordered such expensive wine and dish.

“I know but you’re a student and I work. It makes sense that I pay. Plus, I was the one who asked you out so I’m paying. Next time, you ask me and I’ll let you pay.”

Next time, huh? I let the smile take over my lips. I’ll admit that was good and I chuckle when he elbows his side with his hand on a fist in celebration that I allowed him to pay.

“And this is when my alcohol-free lifestyle comes in handy.” He says as he escorts me outside playing with his car keys on his hand. “I’m taking you home.”

He probably said that because I kept staring at him but I was just lost on the ink of his chest. It’s pouring rain when we get outside and he curses under his breath. I don’t know why I like it when he curses. It’s not like I’ve never had a sailor’s mouth before but there’s something about the way his voice sounds around the word fuck that’s got me biting my bottom lip.

“Okay, you wait here. I’ll go get the car and pick you up right here.”

“But where did you park?”

“It’s just down the street.” He shakes his head. “But it’s pouring rain. You’ll get soaked.”

“Nonsense.” I shake my head.

The street is just one way which means he’d have to drive around the entire block to come get me.

“We can run.”

He’s smiling carefree with his eyebrows raised as he stands up next to me. I feel his eyes carelessly roaming my body and stopping at my breasts on their way back up my face.

“Can you imagine how you’d look with that shirt wet? I wouldn’t be able to get it out of my head.”

I’m wearing a white silk blouse tied around my neck with puffed sleeves and a black mini skirt. He’s right. If this gets wet he’d get stuck to my skin and my nipples would take his eyes out. My mouth gets dry as I imagine what he would do to me then. I don’t know why it is so erotic to think about us two under the rain, the wet silk stuck to my skin until he unties the knot from my neck and massages my breasts before he brings them to his mouth and wraps his pink lips around my nipples and-

I must have given him the look because his eyes drop to my mouth and I’d swear his breathing has gotten worked up. My eyes drop to his Adam’s apple as he swallows. My lips part. I wonder if his kisses taste like grapes and cheese. Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.

A group of people walk out of the restaurant in a drunken conversation. They’re pretty hobbled as they walk on zigzag. I wonder how much money they spent on wine in there. One of them stumbles and almost falls on top of me so I step backwards and my back collides with Harry’s chest. I try to gain my balance back so I can move away when his hands snake around my waist and pull my body closer until I’m pressed against him. I feel his arousal against my buttocks. My mouth goes dry when I notice he’s hard.

“Do you want me to take you home now, Indie?” I feel his hot breath against my ear.

“We… We said” I pressed my hips against his so as to make sure his hard on is real and he grunts “we said just dinner.”

“But we didn’t have dessert.” He whispers. “And I can think of something I’d like to eat.”

His hand slowly travels from my waist to the lowest part of my belly and I rest my head against his shoulder, resting my weight on him. He hums on my ear.

“You smell so good, Indie.” His voice is lulling me into a frenzy.

I feel my body heating up and all I want is to tangle my fingers on his hair and turn my face so I can kiss him.

“You always smell so good.”

I press my bum harder against his front. We’re already alone, standing on one of the walls on the stairs in front of the restaurant, but I don’t even trust my legs for walking right now. I can feel myself embarrassingly wet. He grunts when I move my hips again.

“Indie.” I’m gonna think about the way he whispers my name for weeks.

“Take me to bed already Harry.”

I don’t have to say it again. I feel his jacket on my shoulders and I look down at my arms as his hands slide down the fabric until they reach my hands. He connects his hand with mine and removes his body from mine before he starts walking urgently towards his car. After a couple minutes walking I spot his black SUV. He opens the door for me and just stands there under the rain until I’m settle before he closes the door.

His hair is wet and he’s almost trembling when he gets behind the wheel. I want to blow hot air on his hands to keep him warm but he doesn’t even look at me. All of a sudden, he seems to be deep in thought, but he looks so sexy. Being wet like that, with droplets falling from his brown locks to his forehead and his black shirt stuck to his skin and a thin layer of rain water covering the skin of his face… He looks even sexier than I have imagined before. I place my hand on his shoulder and feel him relax under my touch. His eyes are blown away when he looks at me.

“Tell me you don’t want this.”

I frown at his request. Before I can take control of my own actions my eyes drop to his crotch. He’s still hard between his legs so I don’t know where this is coming from.

“No.”

“No what?”

“No, I won’t say that.”

He grins and his eyes drop to my mouth once before he fastens his seatbelt, tells me to do the same and starts the car.

“You never do what you’re told, do you?”

I don’t answer that question. I try not to. Javier was so controlling. He used to tell me everything I had to do, what started as a domination-submission relationship in bed ended up being a dominating relationship outside the bedroom too. I remember he used to tell me what to do and then punish me with orgasm denial if I didn’t do what he had told me. Orgasm denial can be a turn on, Lord knows I know that, but trust me, it isn’t when the orgasm never happens. I shiver as I remember those times he left me crying on the bed after he had cum himself. Javier was such a bastard.

We reach his apartment in about fifteen minutes and all dark thoughts of Javier leave my mind the moment he grants me with an excited smile. I don’t know why he looks at me like that but somehow he’s making me feel as if I was the one in control here even though he’s the older one and probably the one with more experience. I’ve only had sex with two guys before. I wonder how many girls he’s fucked.

He walks before me as we make our way towards his apartment building. It’s a dark grey building, wide and manor. We walk through a grey stone path surrounded by two forecourts of green grass and everything is so cute I hear both our shoes clicking against the floor. He opens the glass door of the vestibule and greets the doorman as the man presses the lift button for us. Harry places his hand on the low of my back and gently guides me inside the lift and that’s the first time he touches me since he pressed my body against his at the door of the restaurant. He presses the sixth button and stands silently next to me.

Part of me wants him to press the stop button and push me against the wall and kiss and suck my neck as his hand pushes against my sex and plays with me but instead of reaching out to him I stand still, with both hands on either side of my body. This lift ride feels like the longest I’ve ever taken until finally his hand reaches out for me. His fingers caress mine until he has my hand in his and he gently tugs until I collide against his chest.

“Come closer.”

I feel his breath against my skin as I look into his eyes. He’s staring at me as if he’s never seen a woman before and there’s something about the way he looks at me that has me feeling different. He looks at me as one looks at a painting in a museum and I see his eyes tracing my skin, looking at my chin and my temple and my nose. Why isn’t he kissing me yet?

He still holds my hand when the lift door opens and he guides me towards the second door to our right. The door is dark grey again against pearl grey colour walls. He turns on the light and lets me walk along the grey hall that seems to end on a white cleaned kitchen. Right in front of the door, at the end of the hall and the apartment itself I can see a wall length glass window with the curtain up. I stop when the wall on my right ends.

At my right, I can guess the living room behind the kitchen bar. It’s dark and he hasn’t turn on the lights but I can see a couch before big wall length windows that spread both sides from a white column on the far corner of the area where a long rectangular dining table sits. I turn around searching for him and find him staring at me, very quiet and very still. He’s still wet and only then I realize so am I.

“Do I look like an otter?”

He laughs out loud at my question.

“Is that why you haven’t kissed me yet?”

“You look extraordinary.”

We speak at the same time but I only hear him. His amused smile, remnant from his laughter, turns into a devilish smirk as he places both hands on my hips and finally pushes me against the wall. I press my shoulder blades against it and focus on controlling my breathing as his hand snakes under my skirt and he gets the fabric up caressing my left thigh.

“As always.”

Our breaths mix together against my lips. His hand is cold against my skin and my body reacts to his touch with a shiver. I place both hands on his chest, my fingertips resting on his shoulders, as he tacks a strand of hair behind my ear with his other hand. His eyes drop down to my chest and he smiles. I know he noticed how worked up he’s gotten my breathing and I get frustrated with how calm he seems to be as he leans down. His lips brush against mine as he speaks.

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

I nod even if he didn’t ask for permission and then I feel his lips pressed against mine. The hand on my thigh moves to hold my left hip as his smooth and tender lips bring mine to life and he holds my face with his other hand. I feel his fingers on the side of my neck as his thumb rests against my right cheekbone. I have to suck in a moan, he’s such a good kisser… But I finally let it out when he divides my lips with his tongue. I feel him smile against my lips.

“I’ve been thinking about this all fucking month.”

His forehead rests against mine and I don’t want him to stop kissing me but his confession makes my stomach do somersaults. This time I’m the one pressing my lips timidly against his but when he reciprocates slowly but passionately, I let my fingers wander against his jaw until my right hand caresses his scalp and I tangle my fingers on his hair as I’ve been wanting to do since I met him. My hips have a mind on their own as they press against his and I do it again when I feel his hot, hard excitement against my belly. It’s flattering to feel his desire. He moans on my mouth as I keep pressing my hips up against his. I almost perch up to him but he lets me do what I want with his body.

I feel his right thumb caressing the skin over my hip bone and my breathing catches in my throat when his fingers trace their way against my thigh towards my sex. I rock my hips against his hand, silently signalling him to go on and finally his fingertips caress my throbbing sex against the thin fabric of my pink transparent underwear and I can’t hold back the moan that escapes my throat.

“I see you’ve thought about it too.”

He smiles devilishly against my lips and my fingers move back to his shoulders so I can hold myself up when my knees go weak. His fingers keep caressing my lower lips barely adding any pressure and I gasp against his lips as he grins. He then goes on with his delicious torture as his lips press against my cheek and then the spot just below my ear before he licks and bites my neck. His knuckles caress my groin and I don’t know why he hasn’t gotten his fingers inside me yet. I can’t wait anymore.

“I’m waiting…” He explains as if he could read my mind.

“What for?” My voice betrays me in a moany tone and I feel him grin against my neck.

“For you to admit you’ve thought about it too.”

His other hand moves from my back to my front, setting my skin on fire on the way to my breast before he cups it against my blouse. I feel my eyes rolling to the back of my head as I rest it against the wall.

“So have you, Indie?”

His raspy voice is driving me crazy as his fingers carefully pull from the elastic of my panties.

“They’re stuck to you.” He whispers. “Are you that wet?”

“Find out.” I manage to utter.

My breath catches in my throat when he presses his hips further against my body, pinning me against the wall as he grins at me. I want to run my tongue all along his pink lips, now red from kissing.

“Tell me.” He licks my mouth.

“Of course I’ve thought about it.”

His fingers slide under the fabric of my underwear as if I found the right password and he collects my moisture with two fingers and spread it against my swollen clit. I bite my bottom lip and feel my face contorting from pleasure. My nails pin against his shoulders.

“You’re fucking soaked.” He grunts. “Is this all for me?”

“Yes.” I pant.

“You pushed me away.” He circles my clit slowly. “You rejected me when I asked you out but now look…” I moan when he curls two fingers at a time inside my cunt. “A proper mess with my fingers in your pussy.” He bites my chin. “You like it?”

“Yes.”

I shut my eyes as he kisses and sucks my neck while his fingers move in and out of me. His thumb presses circles against my clit and I’m very aware of all the clothes we still have on. I am pathetically lost in my own pleasure but I want to feel his hot skin against mine so I let my hands wander down his chest until I reach the buttons and start undoing them. I caress his bare chest and stomach before I grab his neck with one hand and push his mouth to mine to devour his lips. He grunts against my lips and his fingers fasten on my hole.

“Harry.”

He growls and bites on my bottom lip.

“Harry.” I repeat and he hums questioningly. “Please.”

“Please what, Indie?”

“Please” I don’t know what I’m going to say. I just know I want “More.” I pant. “I want more.”

I love the way he looks at me with eyes blown away. I press my lips against his hungrily and I roll my tongue with his. I want him desperately and he lets me have his mouth the way I want. I don’t know why he isn’t doing anything. Any other guy would have pinned me against the world and drilled deeper into my pussy already but he seems to be blocked. Right when I’m about to say something, his fingers start moving faster and I have to hold onto him for dear life. He must notice my loss of balance because he slides his thigh between my legs and pins me against the wall, holding me in place and fucking me with his fingers until I feel my walls clenching.

“Are you going to cum like this?” He asks.

“If you keep doing that yes.”

He chuckles and his movements down there stop. My eyes open widely but I can’t barely see. My pupils must be blown away. He removes his fingers from my cunt and presses his thigh hard against my entrance as he brings his hand to his mouth. I can see my shinny juice on his fingers as he sticks them inside his mouth and hums as he sucks them clean. He takes them out of his mouth and swallows.

“Fuck, you taste amazing.”

I feel my walls clenching. Is it possible to have an orgasm with words? I’ve never been told that. I don’t know where to look. I miss his thigh against my legs for a second before he presses his hardness on the spot he just left. He’s rock hard so my ego is restored. He wants me too. He stares at me as he presses his hard on against my sex again, taking pleasure in the effect his actions have on me.

“I want to have my mouth on you but I’m gonna explode.” He confesses.

“Fuck me, Harry.”

With un unsuitable calm from his previous actions, he presses his lips slowly against mine as his hands find a home on the lowest part of my back and he starts walking, guiding me backwards towards what I assume it’s his bedroom. His hand grabs my ass and I feel him smile against my mouth.

I snake my hands under the fabric of his shirt and caress his toned arms before we let it fall to the ground and then his hands find the button of my skirt and he undoes it, slowly unzipping it too before it falls to the ground around my feet. He grabs my hands and places them on the waistband of his pants and I follow his silent instructions as I unbutton and unzip his jeans. His fingers find the silk bow on the back of my neck and undo it as I jerk his pants down his legs. His hands caress the hem of my underwear and the lower part of my belly before he grabs the hem of my blouse and I lift my arms above my head for him to take my blouse off. He lets it fall next to our feet, leaving me on just my pink set of underwear, completely exposed to him. His hungry eyes roam my body up and down and before he touches me again, he runs his fingers through his head and puffs.

“Damn.”

Large hands hug my bare waist as he pushes me gently onto his bed. My body, hot and naked, falls on top of a fluffy soft cold quilt but before I can get cold myself Harry leans his body over mine and my legs instantly spread apart making room for him. I feel his hands rougher than mine caressing my skin and leaving goosebumps everywhere he touches. His right hand holds part of his weight over me as his left one searches for my right knee, wrapping my leg around his waist as he caresses my thigh, squeezing my bum when he reaches it.

I’m amazed at how fast and naturally the mood has changed between us. I don’t know which Harry I like more, if the rough and passionate one that just touched me a moment ago or the slow and torturous lover that seems to be taking his time with me now. My mouth misses his as he leaves kisses against the skin of the side of my neck and my sternum. His knees press under my thighs as he holds his weight while he runs his tongue along the soft skin just above my bra. My fingers comb his hair whilst his pull my bra down, freeing my breast before his lips wrap around my nipple. He licks and sucks on it before he opens his mouth and nibbles on my flesh right before giving the exact same attention to my other breast.

My brain has finally stopped and everything I can think about is Harry and the way he smells and the way he moves and his hands on me. For the first time in I don’t know how long, my only worry is whether to keep my eyes opened so I can see him and record very second of this on my mind or whether to let them shut and go by what I’m feeling. He signals his way kissing my skin up from my chest to my mouth and I caress his front until I reach his underwear. I feel his arousal, wet and hot and heavy, through the thin cotton and he hiss.

“Don’t” He seems to have as much trouble speaking as I’m afraid I’d have if I tried to say something right now “don’t touch me much or I’ll finish before starting.”

I smile at his sincere confession and cup his face instead, bringing his mouth to mine as I kiss him passionately. I am over the moon with the way he seems to be worshipping my body. If I could think straight, I’d question the entire thing for how is it possible that someone like him seems to be so out of it because of my body? I’m nothing compared to his perfection.

“I’m so hard for you.”

He presses his arousal against my dripping entrance once so I can feel it and I feel my pupils dilate. I can barely make out shadows as he sucks a spot underneath my jawline.

“Can I have you now?”

I hope my eyes can transmit him everything I can’t say. I let my tongue dive inside his mouth and tug at the hem of his boxers hoping that’s enough for him to know I want him now. He lifts his hips helping me get his boxers down and his hard on springs free against his stomach. I reluctantly remove my mouth from his so my curious eyes can take him in. He’s shinny and tight and huge. My breath catches in my throat.

He doesn’t know I’m more inexperienced than I lead on. Javier was rough and we had lots of sex, it was basically all we did, but he was always on charge and I basically just had to let him do what he pleased and he was way smaller than Harry is. He must sense my doubts because his fingers grab my chin and makes me look into his eyes.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

I frown and instead of arguing, I bring my hands between us and take off my underwear, exposing myself to him. He presses a flood of kisses against my cheek and whispers on my ear.

“We’ll go slowly.” He assures me. “And, Indie, if you want to stop, just say it, okay?”

He cups my cheek and stares into my eyes, making sure I agree, he must be aware of his size and then he pecks my lips a few times before he removes his body from mine. I panic.

“Where are you going?”

My hands snake around his body desperately and he chuckles as he looks back at me. He’s leaning over me towards the drawer of his nightstand and when he comes back between laughter he presses soft kisses against my cheeks and the tip of my nose holding a small foil package between his fingers.

“Clinging onto me like a koala bear, eh?” He kisses me. “Not going anywhere, love.” His pet name ignites fireworks on my stomach and chest. “Just grabbing a condom.”

I nod and kiss him deeply feeling him smile against my mouth.

“Indie, it’s not that I mind but… You’re not a virgin, are you?”

I feel my cheeks heating up. I’m afraid my body would inevitably go into shutdown because of the change in the blood flow. I can’t even look him in the eyes, I’m so embarrassed.

“No.” I frown.

He presses a single kiss between my eyebrows and I feel a fingertip trailing a line on my skin from my jawline to my sternum.

“But it’s been a while.” I confess.

“We’ll go slow.”

Kissing me, he leaves the condom on my hand and asks me to put it on him. I hold the package close to my face between us and rip it open, getting the condom out and bringing my trembling fingers to his hard dick. I appreciate the opportunity he gave me to stare at him and I take in his red tip, dripping precum and my mouth waters. Before I roll the condom down I let my fingertips caress his soft skin and feel him hiss and fight for breath above me. My curious fingers explore the wet shinny pink end and he grunts.

“It’s beautiful.”

He chuckles nervously and I roll the condom down his stiff flesh. Once he’s covered, he shifts his hips down until I feel his tip dancing over my entrance and I spread my legs farther for him. When I think he’s finally going to thrust inside me, I feel his hand snaking underneath my back and unclasping my bra. His fingers carefully grab the straps and he removes it from me. His chest moves up and down, asthmatic, as he stares at my bare breasts.

“You’re gorgeous.”

I read his lips more than I heard him because his voice came out almost silent but other than focused, he seems conflicted. I caress his cheek and he leans his head on my palm.

“What are you thinking?”

“It’s very hard to think with you naked under me.” I chuckle at his confession. “But… I also feel like… You’re this delicate thing and I could… I don’t know, break you.”

His words take me off guard but they seem to have a direct line with my heart that reacts to him even before my brain catches on.

“Well” I move my hips against his making him hiss at the contact of our sexs “I mean you’re big but I think I can take it.”

He laughs. Once again I’m surprised at how our moods change in seconds because then he grins devilishly at me.

“I’m sure you can.”

A soft chuckle escapes his throat as he leans above me and brings his soft mouth to mine. He starts by pressing his lips against mine in open mouthed kisses that drive me crazy and then his teeth tug on my bottom lip before he lets go and his tongue dives inside my mouth. His kisses are delicious. His hand glides down my arm until he intertwines our fingers and places my hand on the back of his neck.

I feel his hot hard on against my lower lips and the anticipation of being connected with him is driving me crazy. Harry’s lips crash against mine harsh before his forgiving tongue soothes me. There seems to be a disconnection between his hard mouth and his soft caresses that makes me wonder whether his thrusts are going to behave like his lips or like his hands. My legs wrap around his waist and my heels pull him closer to me but he smiles against my mouth and eludes my entrance. He’s enjoying this sweet torture.

He pulls back so that his green eyes long into mine and he chuckles at the look I must be giving him. I hold his stare. I don’t want to miss a single thing when he stretches me open. His length is stroking my swollen dripping lips when he starts rocking his hips over me. My sex throbs and he grins triumphally as I watch him jerk back and forth each time sending a high frequency energy current to my belly.

“Harry” I whine completely out of my mind.

He slips his hand between our bodies and I feel it between my thighs but he keeps moving on top of me with that wide grin on his face.

“Harry, for the love of God, I can’t take it any-

My words are cut short when I feel his tip stretching my entrance. And even though it goes in easily due to the embarrassing amount of moisture I’ve collected, my walls instantly clench on their own accord and he stops.

“Fuck.” He clenches his teeth. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I nod my head feverishly. “Don’t stop, Harry.”

He readjusts his forearm on the mattress next to my head and holds my hip with his fingers as he slowly glides out and thrusts inside me again. I carefully watch his expression. His eyebrows are furrowed and his lips are parted but when he thrusts inside me a third time, he bites them.

I feel him stretch me beyond believe and I’m afraid I might exhaust myself before starting but to my surprise it doesn’t hurt at all. Instead I feel like I’m out of my own body, like there’s some force inside my chest that’s trying to get out of me and it searches for an exit all along my body, all the way from my chest to my fingers and to my toes and then it goes up my throat and tries to get out with a moan.

“Fucking hell, Indie.” He grunts.

He��s moving in and out of me deliciously slowly and I don’t even know where his hands are or where mine are. Everything has turned into a soft, wet mess and all I can hear is his panting and his grunts and my own moans and whimpers. I only manage to keep my eyes opened for seconds but when I do I see him staring at me, green wide eyes blown away. I want to touch him, I want to bite him and run my tongue against the blood red skin but I can’t do anything but gape and try not to choke on my own breathing.

“You like it slow, Indie?”

He speaks on my open mouth as our breaths mix and I can do nothing but stare into his eyes. He curses under his breath as his hand cups my face and he never stops his movements. His never leave mine.

“You can’t speak, can you?” He chuckles. “Can I go faster?”

I hold his face and eat his mouth as if I was trying to suck some of his energy. Bravely I press the low part of my back against the mattress, lifting my hips and finding a new angle for him to go deeper and hit that spot I’m craving.

“Go faster.” I finally manage to whisper on his mouth.

He grunts as he begins to thrust faster and I moan too because he seems to move faster each time until the bed is shaking and we’re both panting. I thank God he lives alone because I can’t control the volume of my breathing and I think I couldn’t keep quiet if I wanted to.

“Indie” He sighs “I’m so close.”

I feel the tension building up on my stomach as his words.

“Don’t stop. Go harder.” I beg.

“What?”

“Harder, Harry.”

I shove my hips against his hoping he understands what I want and he does because for the next thrusts he’s drilling me against the mattress and we both sink against the quilt every time he shoves against me. He’s grunting and panting on top of me and my hips search for him before I pull back helping him with our frenetic rhythm.

There it is. A moment of whiteness. I lose conscience for a few seconds and I don’t see and I don’t hear anything right as my whole body concentrates on one single point and I myself am one single point, very small and very hot, and then I feel myself realising and letting go on top of him.

“Fuck.”

Harry drops his head on my shoulder and I feel his length twitching and throbbing inside me while he empties himself on the condom. I hear his worked up breath on my ear as we both focus on calming down to come down from our highs. I love the feeling of still having him inside of me as he softens.

“Fuhhh” He lets out through his teeth on my ear “You were so tight.”

I chuckle as he rolls off me and presses a kiss on my bare shoulder before he lies down next to me. I turn my neck to the nightside table on my side of the bed and entertain my eyes with the picture he has but I feel my eyelids heavy and I finally let them shut. I hear Harry asking me whether I’m asleep and I let out a grunt but I’m too tired to give him conversation now so he chuckles. I then feel him lifting my body so he can open the bed and cover my naked body with the duvet.

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cali-holland · 5 years ago

Text

Family Getaways- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Requested by anon: hi! i love your writing so much 💗 if it’s not a big deal, could you please write a oneshot where tom proposes to the reader while on vacation with both of their families, fast forward to the wedding and their vows to each other just has everyone crying cause it’s so sweet?

Prompt: A joint family vacation in California leads to you and Tom seeking your own romantic getaway.

Word Count: 1600

Inspired by: From this Moment On by Shania Twain & the movie The Vow

A/N: So yeah I haven’t actually been to legit weddings, so my bad if I messed up. Also, I’m Californian and I’ve never been to Lake Tahoe so idk why I chose that...

Masterlist Tom Holland Masterlist

*gif is not mine*

~~~

“You know, for how many times we’ve been to California, we’ve never been up here.” You pondered with a laugh as you and Tom stepped into your hotel room.

“I know, which is why I suggested it.” He replied, a smug smile on his face, pleased with his decision. The two of you set your luggage down at the foot of the bed and you wrapped your arms around his neck while his went to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“And to think we could’ve been on a beach in the Bahamas.” You teased.

“Hey, now,” Tom pouted, “Lake Tahoe is supposed to be incredibly romantic.”

“Oh really,” You smirked. He leaned down to kiss you, but stopped when a loud knock sounded from your door.

“Tom, can I use your bathroom? Harry’s blowing up ours, and I just really got to piss.” Harrison asked with a sense of urgency.

“So romantic.” You laughed as Tom sighed, letting go of you to open the door for his friend. Leave it to Harrison (and Harry) to ruin the moment and bring you two back to reality.

“Thanks.” Haz said, immediately ducking into the en suite bathroom.

Ever since your family moved next door to the Hollands and you all became close friends, it was a tradition to take a joint family vacation (plus Harrison) all together at least once a year. And for the past three years, you and Tom had attempted to use this as your own personal romantic getaway, but your families made sure there was no escaping them- and they also made sure that you two didn’t share a room. That was, until this year at least, and you were not going to complain. Still, the large holiday was always one that you looked forward to. Normally, you’d all go to a resort on the beach or have some sort of nice private beach house, but this year Tom had suggested Lake Tahoe in California of all places; though it wasn’t your typical family vacation, you still saw the appeal of the destination.

You couldn’t really enjoy your alone time with Tom- once Haz had left, it was already time to reconvene with your families in the hotel lobby for dinner. Choosing the steakhouse across the street, all of you (you, the Holland clan, Harrison, your younger sister, and your parents) made your way over there and somehow managed to get a table rather quickly. Tom sat beside you and instantly brought your chair closer to him so that he could put his arm around the back of your chair.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Your mom asked.

“We haven’t even been here three hours yet.” You laughed.

“Skiing?” Sam suggested.

“Snowboarding!” Tom and Harrison cheered simultaneously. Everyone broke off into their own conversations, and Tom turned to you.

“What do you think about going on one of those hot air balloon rides?” He asked, leaning in closer to you.

“Now, that sounds romantic.” You teased.

“And a good way to escape all of them.” Tom laughed, nodding back at your families.

“I also want to do some shopping in some of the boutiques.” You said and he jokingly frowned.

“That doesn’t sound romantic.”

“It doesn’t have to be with you.” You joked, making him shake his head.

“No, no, you’re not escaping me for the next week.” He leaned in further to kiss you.

“Hey, hey, not at the dinner table!” Harry called out as Paddy started to fake gage.

“Whatever.” Tom rolled his eyes at his brothers, shifting back into his seat but still keeping his arm around your chair.

It wasn’t until the third day on your vacation that you and Tom finally managed to break away from your families and take your hot air balloon ride together. After a few days of shopping, snowboarding, hiking, the works, you and Tom were due for your romantic getaway. The balloon lifted off the ground and you held tightly onto Tom’s hand, starting to wonder if maybe taking a relatively unstable floating device over Lake Tahoe was a good idea. Once it was steady in the air, you leaned on the edge of the basket in awe of the view.

“Damn, I’m so good at these ideas.” Tom said proudly, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“This is incredible.” You smiled, turning to kiss him. “You’re incredible.”

“Mm, I know.” He teased, “You’re pretty incredible, too.”

“Did you plan all this out?” You asked him, skeptically. You looked over at the small table in the balloon that held an assortment of fruits and cheeses, all things that Tom knew to be your favorite.

“What? You don’t think I could spontaneously suggest the perfect hot air balloon ride without any prior research into just how romantic it could be?”

“Considering romantic seems to be your favorite word on this holiday, I’d dare to say this wasn’t spontaneous.” You smirked, and he kissed you again.

“Just try the damn cheese.” Tom laughed. You turned to the table and helped yourself to some cheese blocks.

“Open up.” You said, holding up a cheese block for him. He opened up his mouth and you placed it on his tongue.

“Shit, that’s the good stuff.”

“Mhm,” You hummed, turning back to the table. You bit into a strawberry and went to turn back around to face Tom. You let out a small shriek,freezing, as he was down on one knee.

“Y/N,Y/L/N, you’re my best friend, and I love you more than anything in the world. You’re my soulmate, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?” Tom asked with a hopeful smile on his face as he held out an open blue ring box, a beautiful diamond ring sitting in the center.

“You asshole,” You coughed, smiling and slapping his arm lightly. He laughed, confused by your reaction- he had definitely expected a ‘yes’. “I almost choked on that strawberry ‘cause of you.”

“So is that a-”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.” You smiled as he stood up to his full height. He pulled you in for a passionate kiss.

“Oh, shit, the ring.” Tom laughed, remembering he had to actually seal the deal. He carefully took it out of the box and slipped it onto your left ring finger.

“You totally planned this whole holiday around this.” You teased.

“I’ll never tell.” He shook his head as you pulled him in for another kiss.

A few hours later when you two met back up with your families, you could tell that they were all well aware of Tom’s intentions behind the hot air balloon ride, by the way everyone was eyeing you two so expectantly and faked surprise once you showed them the ring.

~~~

And just eight months later, it was the big day. Everything was set up perfectly in the small church near your homes in Kingston. You were more excited than nervous; your new life as an official Holland was just moments away from beginning.

Tom was waiting anxiously at the altar. His palms were a little sweaty and he was resisting the urge to mess with his hair like he always did when he was anxious. He was nearly shaking in anticipation as the music kicked on and his brothers and Harrison walked down the aisle with your sister and your bridesmaids- he was just one step closer to seeing you, his beautiful bride.

“You got this.” Harrison reassured him, from his position as best man.

Tom nodded, and the music changed to an instrumental version of Lionel Richie and Diana Ross’ “Endless Love”. He let out a breath that he didn’t even realize he’d been holding as you emerged from the back of the church with your father leading you down the aisle. You smiled at him, trying to refrain yourself from crying; meanwhile, Tom not so subtly wiped away the tears that had slipped.

As you stood in front of him, you handed your bouquet off to your sister, your maid of honor. Tom took your hands in his and the two of you turned to the officiant. The ceremony went on, but you couldn’t focus on much. You were too focused on the fact that you were standing next to your favorite person in the world, about to marry him. When the time for the vows came, you turned back to fully face Tom.

“Y/N,” He started, smiling softly at you and you could still see the tears in his eyes. “I vow to always be there for you, to hold you whenever life gets hard, to help you throughout life, to always make you smile. From this moment on, I vow to love you for the rest of my life.”

“Tom,” You began, tears beginning to well up in your own eyes. “I vow to love you for the rest of my life, with every beat of my heart; I vow to always care for you, to always support you, and to always give you anything and everything you need. I vow to live within the warmth of your heart and always call it home.”

“And, now the rings.” The officiant announced and Harrison stepped up, handing over the rings to the two of you. You and Tom went through the “I Do”s and the exchanging of rings.

“You may kiss the bride.”

At the official words, Tom pulled you in for a passionate first kiss as husband and wife.

#tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n

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dontasktheradiodemon · 4 years ago

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Emotional Support, $500/hour

Alastor hires Angel for his services. No, not those services. The "provide sympathy and advice for some poor loser who's found himself unwillingly stuck in a soap opera" services. Although Angel would far rather do it as a friend rather than for pay.

Tumble mobile is a piece of crap that won't let me post an entire chat log in one post, and I don't want to wait eight hours to post this when I get home, so gonna post this in two chunks. Part one:

Alastor

A text arrives at one of the numbers written up on the walls around Pentagram City:

"Is this Angel Dust's business line?"

Hella formal.

Angel

An identifying ring sounded from Angel's drawer. Not the type that'd fire warning bells in his head, but the sort he preferred to hear from his hotel room.

Time to go to work.

[ The one and only, Toots! 💋 What can I do ya for? 💕 ]

Alastor

"What are your rates just for private conversation? Nothing sexual. I need somebody to talk to."

Angel

Angel reread the message. Once. Twice. A couple more times. Usually he didn't get this type of request on this number, but a part of him was relieved.

[ Ya talkin' companion rates, Babe? I typically run that 500 by the hour, but dependin' on the kinda secrets I'm gonna be keepin', I could drop or ask fa a tip. It's a pretty accurate ballpark, though. Have I lost ya? ]

Alastor

There’s a longer pause before the next reply.

(The pause is for Alastor to go “Five hundred dollars?! FIVE HUNdred DOL*LARS*?! *FIVE—*”)

“I can manage that.”

It’s not going to be *his* money.

Angel

[ Sounds good! Where ya gonna be wantin' me, Sweetheart? Just so ya know, I'm gonna need those bills in my hands before we get down to any business. ]

Alastor

“I’ll have them. The hotel just outside Cannibal Colony’s northern entrance. I’ll let you know the room number.”

It’s a middling sort of hotel. It’s alright.

Angel

[ Alright, I know the area. I'll be there in about fifteen. ]

He didn't know the area. But Angel couldn't let an unknown client know that. Furthermore, last he was there he had himself QUITE THE WELCOMING. So by his better judgement, he asked Bel for directions without running the risk of getting shot this time. He'd find his way.

Alastor

And Alastor is gonna spend the next fifteen minutes cordially threatening the first people he sees who look well-dressed and stupid enough to be carrying around several hundred dollars, and then bolting for the hotel.

He’s settling down on the room’s couch and texting Angel the number at about the same time Angel probably ought to be walking in the front door.

Angel

_Rap rap._ He's not the police, so he saves announcing himself. Nonetheless his senses are alert, his limbs folded deceptively casual before his torso. Anxieties aside, he's expecting an easy job. As soon as he can confirm it's a real job and not a hold up.

Alastor

Alastor’s shadow opens the door for him.

He glances over from the couch. “Right on time.” He gestures to an arm chair across from the couch. Surprise!

Angel

Angel looks at his phone. The room number. His phone again. They surely match up exactly, don't they? A rather robotic wave to Alastor's shadow, just to be polite, before he pokes his head in without crossing the doorframe.

_" ... What. Am I bein' punk'd 'ere!? "_ Arms flail wildly as his eyes dart about the room in search of clues he might not get from the real deal on the couch. " THIS where ya been holdin' the crock pot hostage?? "

Alastor

“Do come in and shut the door before you start shouting, would you? I *am* trying to be discreet, here.” Proof of that claim: he’s actually using an indoor voice for once.

There’s no crock pot. No nothing else, either—he got the room less than five minutes ago just for this, he hasn’t touched a thing and he didn’t bring any personal effects. Just him, sitting cross-armed on the couch.

He uncrosses his arms, fishes a wallet out of his pocket, and slides several bills half out. See? He’s legit. “I have enough here for—let’s see—about three hours and twenty-five minutes. Hopefully I won’t need that much, but.” A jerky shrug.

Angel

His face fell and stiffened into a vague sternness. Wordlessly he stepped around the shade and soundlessly shut the door. This energy was too weird. He didn't trust it. He didn't like it. Either he or Alastor was running the risk of being made a bigger fool than Narcissus in the pond. Fittingly, neither one of them would risk their egos for something so trivial.

He was MORE than serious.

Angel passed the arm chair, instead taking a knee before him and lowering a hand over the wallet. " I'm not takin' ya money, Al. The fuck's goin' on? "

Alastor

“Oh, don’t worry about *that,* it’s not my money. It properly belongs to...” He pulls a card out of the wallet and squints at it. “Mr. Bee. Ironically, he looked more like a parrot.”

But he doubts that’s going to satisfy Angel. “I’m not talking to you as a friend. I’m hiring your services as a professional. I need your expert advice on a matter. And if I’m asking you to do your job, I *am* going to pay you for it.”

Angel

Angel rose a brow higher than his last hit. At the very least he could relax, but he was still dumbfounded -

_... as a friend?_ If he weren't a professional, he'd be asking him as a friend? The corner of his mouth twitched. It seemed more likely that he wouldn't be asking him at ALL if he weren't professional.

Regardless, he was wasting his energy trying to figure him out on his own. " What in the Nine's could ya be askin' _me_ for? " A short exhale before shifting his back against the armchair. " Save fa givin' yaself a day coma, I thought ya... pretty good at keepin' ya shit together... "

Alastor

Alastor rifled through the wallet to see if Mr. Bee had any interesting membership cards worth stealing—museums, day spas, secret societies, etc.—before sitting forward and holding the wallet out to Angel. “Are you taking it? Because I’m not telling you why I’m asking you unless you’re on the clock.”

Angel

" Alright alright, lemme see, " Angel lied with little to no intention of sitting on it. He flipped through the bills and counted them off by the hour before placing them on the table beside him. " ...120, 180, remainder a 25. 205 minutes of complete and undivided attention, in part or in full. You're set, Smiles. "

Alastor

Alastor watched as Angel counted. “All right.” He took a deep breath, let it all out. His gaze didn’t move from the table to Angel. “I could use—relationship advice.”

Angel

He could BURST with the sheer force of that bombshell, but Angel kept his cool as he made his sprawl of limbs comfortable from the floor. " Ya... gotta secret squeeze around 'ere or somethin? Cannibal gal ya came out t' see? "

Alastor

Alastor laughed ruefully. Wouldn’t that be convenient—some cute little lady to have a predictably heterosexual little afterlife with, sharing all of his shallow surface-level preferences—home era, musical theater, cannibalism—he could pick from any of a dozen ladies he’d passed since arriving in the Cannibal Colony that afternoon who would leap at the chance.

“Not a squeeze,” he said. “Not a gal, either.”

Angel

Well, he was _laughing,_ but it wasn't the good kind. Angel leaned an elbow over a seat of the sofa, keeping all signs of his own personal glee from his face.

Most of it.

" Do tell. "

Alastor

By this point, he wasn’t looking anywhere near Angel. Okay. Now or never. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, twisting his laced hands together. “Advice.” Like saying it again would keep this to some emotionally neutral info-gathering consultation. “What do you—How should one handle it, if... one has... sentiments, for one’s best friend, that he doesn’t reciprocate.” His stomach churned. “Andhe’s found out.”

He had very few people he publicly acknowledged as friends, particularly not somewhere Angel would have seen it. Only one of them was a man. He braced himself for an outburst of shock/amusement as Angel worked out who he was talking about.

Angel

Oh this was FAR from strictly transactional. They all pretty much lived together. Their interpersonal lives would be intertwined for the unspecified future. Said best friend was ENGAGED... to Angel's own best friend.

Again, Angel's eyes flickered about the room. This wasn't a Lifetime movie. This wasn't a hidden camera show. This was gonna be their life now and he'd be DAMNED if that sort of mess could be sorted by a few hundred dollars or so.

He just took a deep breath and stated the facts. Any generic advice he had on hand wouldn't be helpful. " You're his best man, Al. _What_ were ya thinkin'? "

Alastor

He squeezed his eyes shut as if Angel had just reared back to sock him in the face. He would have preferred amusement. “*I didn’t want him to kn—*”

He choked on his own static. He took a shuddering breath. “I don’t want—They make him happy, *that’s* what I want. Him happy. I don’t want to interfere, I just—“ He had to stop again. Unprofessional. Management would’ve given him a stern talking to after a performance like this.

He lifted his laced hands, pressing the knuckles of his thumbs to his eyelids. “I didn’t tell him. He figured it out.”

Angel

Angel expected defensiveness from trying to pry some more from him, to pass an air of judgement for the sake of pulling out whatever emotions he was trying so hard to hide beneath professionalism. He thought Alastor would HANDLE IT.

Not fall into whatever _this_ was. The Alastor he knew was nothing short of _UNBREAKABLE._ It was as surreal as it was painful to witness. _What could be possibly offer him?_ A simple question suddenly felt loaded and heavy.

" _Hey hey hey._ " Angel rose from the floor and perched upon the sofa facing him. " He's a smart guy. You're expressive as shit. Even performin's got... some of ya in it... Ya can't help ALL OF IT. " He leaned forward, just enough to duck below Alastor's falling level. " ... What he... have t' say about it...? "

Alastor

In a week, maybe he could have been calm and collected and above it all. But it was yesterday. It felt like it was an hour ago. The wounds were still raw, literally.

A sharp nod. “It was unavoidable.” He’d realized that the moment it happened. He still hated, hated, hated it.

“Oh, you know.” Another humorless laugh. He dropped his hands and stared tiredly down at them. “He’s furious, he feels betrayed, he feels used... he believes he still wants to be my friend but if he so much as *looks* at me before he’s ready for it he’ll hate me forever...” He shrugged wearily.

Angel

" That's why ya out here, " he stated with a toss of an arm over the backrest, " I DON'T know. How's he feelin' used? Ya never... did anythin' to 'im, did ya? I mean, since you was tryin' so hard to just keep it in, I can't imagine you HAVE. " Angel racked his memories a moment, but drew blanks. He couldn't think of any reason, for both not knowing enough and such a notion conflicting his own direct experience.

" It's... YOU hurtin' 'ere, from what I see. He's got Valera, they gonna be tyin' the knot soon. You've been... " He swallowed thickly. " There fa him. Tell me why. There's - " Words caught in his throat. Words that may have saved him from damnation had they been said to him when he needed to hear them. " Ain't nothin' wrong... wit' feelin' what ya feelin'. "

Alastor

A nod. That’s why he’s out here.

“Because any time we interacted, there was more to it—more than he was bargaining for. More than he knew about.” He had himself back under control, but his tone was subdued. Almost emotionless. Not very Radio Demon. “We hugged, we cuddled. Napped together.” And was he justified in feeling used over that? All Alastor could say was that he’d felt guilty about it the entire time—that he’d dreaded that maybe he *was* using him. “I *tried* to make sure he was always the one who initiated. It didn’t always end up that way.” He remembered holding him in his arms when he’d fainted, telling himself it was justified because he was just supporting him until he woke back up. He’d been *unconscious.* “He said he couldn’t really consent to anything we did because he didn’t know what he was consenting to.”

Angel

" And he's puttin' that on you? Smiles, ya owed 'im nothin' more than ya wanted 'im knowin'. It didn't change nothin'. Ya still gave him everything he wanted and needed from ya. You think ya owe him a reengineerin' of the parts a ya you can't change, too? He may... own ya... but he can't... change ya. Not like that. "

Realizing he may have been projecting a little too much, Angel cleared his throat. " Lovin' 'im a lil' different don't take away from everythin' ya already had. I dunno why he'd feel so... THREATENED by ya unless he... ain't cool wit' you bein' a guy, but any guy who's that comfy wit' his friends can't be straight 'imself, ah? " He forced a chuckle, but he knew that wasn't the point.

" Ya still... didn't have motives, Al, ya didn't take advantage of him. Ya didn't go underminin' everything he's workin' for. Right? No matter how you was feelin'... he still came first. Now if ya ask me, that's PRETTY FUCKIN' STUPID. But he has ya. Had ya. Whatever happens. He's got it all an' then some just t' kick ya to the curb... " Angel crossed his arms. " Ya don't deserve that. He's got some apologizin' t' do to you. I'd drag ya back to the hotel an' give 'im a piece a my mind right NOW... but y'ain't gonna want that, huh? "

Alastor

*He may own you.* Something inside Alastor twisted in pain and boiled up in fury—because it was true. Some part of him had been seized away and he was never getting it back, and that was the *worst* part of this. He muttered, “I wish I could reengineer it. Not for *him* but for *me.* I don’t want this.”

He shook his head. “It’s not because I’m a man, that never came into it. He isn’t straight.” He says this with the confidence of somebody who definitely absolutely totally knows that this is a fact, despite the fact that he has not, actually, been told so.

No, of course he’d never undermined him, he would never—but that didn’t necessarily mean he hadn’t, at the same time, taken advantage. Taken liberties he shouldn’t have, here and there. The idea that *he* might be owed an apology was laughable. Alastor wasn’t laughing. “No, absolutely not, don’t say a *single* word to him. As soon as this conversation ends, I never told you anything and you don’t know any of it.”

Angel

" Didn't think so. " Angel dropped his cheek into his hand and studied him. Something changed. He was being short with him. He perused his words, robotic and unnatural, searching for what did it. It was the price he paid for rambling.

" But ya _do,_ want it. You'd want it if things were different, if he felt the same about you. Tell me I'm wrong an' I'll eat my words wit' a side a fries. " He closed his eyes and hummed into his palm. " Whatever closure ya needin' ya gotta find it. " Angel hesitated to volley ideas, as he knew they'd be leaving his mouth astronomically hypocritical. But he wasn't being paid to play by example, was he? " Ya can count on Penny t' come around and give it to ya, but if ya do that you could be fuckin' exiled forever an' give up the front seat to watchin' Charlie's redemption plans go to shits. Sure it's a lotta fun out 'ere, but it ain't no 1929 fun. "

" Or, ya can wipe ya face. Get off ya ass. Make sure ya got all that's goin' on outta ya system. An' find somethin' new to pour yaself into that's got nothin' t' do with him. And keep doin' it until he's got less an' less a hold on ya until... you're feelin' free an' yourself, again. An' he'll just 'ave to deal with whatever that means if he wants to be stayin' friends with ya. 'Cause ya done ENOUGH. "

Alastor

"You *are* wrong." There's an edge of desperation in his voice. "If he said he felt the same and he made me that offer—yes, I'd take it. But if I could actually choose, if I was given a *real* choice? Between being with him and—and having this taken out of me and being *free?* I'd want to be free! I'd choose that in a heartbeat! I'd rather be his friend!"

And he *knew* that was what he'd choose because he *had* chosen it. Back before he realized that freedom was no longer an option. He'd lost a piece of his heart he was never getting back.

He listened to Angel's suggestions. Let out a long, slow sigh. And asked tiredly, "Is that it?"

Angel

" Then ya gonna have to prove it to yourself first babe 'cause ya ain't soundin' convincin'. " Angel ducked below his line of sight again as if it'd grant him a different perspective. " If this sorta thing had a magical fix, you'd know a lot better than me. But it don't. Ya just gotta... "

He frowned. He wouldn't be able to keep the promise of pretending this never happened. " ... keep at it... keep talkin'... maybe you'll wake up tomorrow feelin' inspired. Maybe you'll wish ya never woke up at all, but... it's all ya can do, Smiles. It's gonna take time. " Angel didn't like leaving it at this, but he found himself unsure. With other clients, he could leave them with the best and never hear of the results. So long as he stayed at the hotel, _he was going to end up WATCHING HIM every step of the way._

But he still didn't know how he needed to be taken care of. If Alastor knew himself, he wouldn't have solicited. " Good thing we got all the time in the world down 'ere to find new things to fuck ourselves up with, ah? " He reached out and gently pat the sofa cushion in place of his knee, in place of taking his hand. " You'll... get there. You're the fuckin' Radio Demon. I dunno how ya do half the shit ya do but this is gonna be one a them things. Say it. "

Alastor

"Would it sound more convincing to you if I destroyed everything he'd ever worked for *just* to ensure we could never have a life together? Would that be convincing enough for you?" Alastor snapped. "*Because I did.*"

He shoved himself off the couch to start pacing. "I've *tried* pouring myself into something new to keep him off my mind. I've *been* trying it for the last *fifty-four years.* That's why I'm at the hotel in the first place! It's why I know *how long* you can *kill yourself* with a bottle of 190 proof booze!" He flung his hands up in despair. "I've been trying to *feel like myself* again since 1966, and all I can do is—distract myself! Distract myself and suppress it until the next time I'm reminded of him!" He let out a brittle laugh, "And smear what I feel for him around to all of his duplicates!"

He rounded on Angel. "I've joined musicals, worked in restaurants, moved to a cultish commune, been an alcoholic, gone to therapy, traveled the nine circles, signed onto every harebrained scheme and plot in Hell—including the hotel!—and more things I can't even remember off the top of my head, and on top of *that* put over half a century between me and him, *and he's still stuck in my heart.* I've tried every piece of advice I've ever heard for how to fall out of love and they *haven't worked!* So give me something *new!* Give me something I *haven't tried!* You're the professional!"

He collapsed onto the armchair Angel hadn't taken. He wasn't sure if getting all that out of his system had really helped. He kind of felt like he'd just projectile vomited.

Angel

" Dupli-? ... _Fuck..._ " Angel dropped his cheek into his palm with the rest of his body taking up the empty space on the sofa. This ran much deeper than he thought. The root of his issues didn't even have anything to DO with the Pentious he knew. Likely beyond anything he could possibly say. Hadn't Alastor been so sweepingly BROAD when he came in, he could've been more careful, but- _ah seemed like he tired himself out._

**_Ya DONE?_**

" That kinda miracle workin' ain't on my resume, " he said bleakly with a broad sweep of an arm, " Ya called me fa someone to talk to, not t' be the answer to all ya problems. " As much time as he spent hearing out the woes of the damned, usually all that was really wanted from him was a crank. An easy enough temporary fix. Not here.

He stood up now. Trying to build him up from below didn't seem to be working. Alastor responded only when he called him out, questioned the half-hearted assertions playing from his mouth like a weathered record. Was that what he needed? To be spiritually disemboweled until he purged all the poison from his soul onto the tarp? He didn't like this. He didn't like it at all. He wanted to call the job off. He couldn't do it. This was too personal and psychologically visceral.

But even moreso, he couldn't give up on and leave him there for much of the same reason he couldn't leave him at the bar. Self destruction was a BITCH to be going through alone. And at the root of it all, Alastor made it clear enough he didn't want to be alone by calling him there.

Angel braced a long arm over the back of his chair so he could drill him in the eye. " Believe me, if I had it all I'd give it to ya, but all I got is this. If ya want ya stolen money back, fine, Al. If ya wanna keep yellin', 'ave at it, Al. Lay out all the shit that's been dry doggin' ya since '66. So I can get it. REALLY GET IT. 'Cause ya holdin' out on me. An' if ya really wanna get the most outta ya hours. Ya gotta keep goin'. "

Alastor

A corner of his mouth twitched. Miracle working. "Of course. Of course, you're right—I'm not expecting a miracle. Not in Hell."

He slouched forward, elbows on his knees again, running one hand through his hair—it was still partially stiff with the hair gel he hadn't managed to shower out at Rosie's, he hadn't bothered to restyle it.

He hadn't liked... that. He still felt sick. "No, I don't want a refund," he said. "I—don't think I want to keep yelling, either." He was silent a moment, trying to figure out what he *did* want from all the things he didn't want, mentally chasing something elusive. It had made perfect sense when he'd tracked down Angel's number—talk to a professional, someone whose job was all about desire and attraction, someone who'd probably dealt with thousands of broken-hearted clients; while Alastor's had only broken once, and just never been put back together.

And now that they were talking Alastor couldn't quite figure out what he wanted. Maybe he really had been hoping for a miracle.

*Ya gotta keep goin'.* All right. "I don't particularly want to talk about '66, either—but..." He took a deep breath. "There was a day when I had a choice—happily ever after with him; or run for the hills, toss aside those emotions, and go back to being who I'd been before I—fell. I chose to run. Destroy everything and run. So—when I *say* that I'd choose freedom over requited feelings... even if it doesn't sound convincing to you, I need you to know that I'm telling the truth. Because I *did* choose it. Or—tried." He looked at Angel, waiting for his reaction—waiting to see if he was believed. Because he needed to be believed. Everyone else in the world only said they didn't want love when they couldn't make it work out—and if Angel lumped Alastor in with them, then... then they would be speaking two different languages that had the same words but different meanings, never actually communicating. If Alastor couldn't make himself understood, he was still alone.

Angel

Angel took a deep breath before sinking to the floor again. " I believe ya. Just gotta say it with conviction, ah? " he said heavily with a fold of his arms over the armrest. As Alastor spoke, he tried to put himself in his place. When he was posed with as monumental a choice, he made the opposite decision. And regretted it with everything he had. Not only was there no miracle working in Hell: there were no choices for the better, either. You were damned whether or not you believed something was too good to be true or fell into the trap. Angel had dived headfirst when he should've trusted that he knew himself better than to believe it'd end well for him.

" How'd it fall through? " he posed with a drop of his chin into his arms, " He bait ya back? " Angel found himself listening with new acoustics. They'd both been in ruins for decades for strikingly similar reasons: trapped by the clutches of toxic loves neither of them want, when they never felt anything of the sort prior. A tragic First they were still fighting. Perhaps he had something to offer him afterall. Perhaps he could support him in a way only few could. He could only hope it'd be enough.

Alastor

“No.” Alastor slid off his chair, too; it didn’t feel right, sitting higher. They should be on eye level with each other. “No, that was—that was why I destroyed everything before I left. To ensure he *wouldn’t* try to bait me back. To make sure he wouldn’t want to. And he didn’t want to. He hasn’t.” Huff. “You saw him on my first day at the hotel! And that’s the longest conversation we’ve had since I left. No, he didn’t do anything. It just...” He shrugged helplessly. “Didn’t fade for me. It’s *supposed* to fade, everyone tells you it’s supposed to fade. It never did.”

Angel

" Oh. That was. " _Let's just pretend he knew from the beginning that they weren't the same demon._ Angel darted his eyes to the corner of the room as he slinked off the armrest. _Yeah. TOTALLY KNEW,_ he lied to himself as he faced Alastor and made himself comfortable. Odd of him to follow his habit. " ... him. " He then cleared his throat. " Yeah, it... doesn't... really... " Angel echoed with a perch of his arms over his ankles. " So... what's ya plan...? Ya gonna just... camp out 'ere 'till ya figure it out? "

Alastor

“That was him,” Alastor said grimly. “My *ex.*” The word was sour on his tongue. Such a fitting word. “And what did I do, I immediately blew up his ship again. Terrific work on my part. Well done.”

A shrug. “Wait at Rosie’s until either he comes calling or I decide he never will, I suppose, and then figure out what to do from there. The—the new ‘he,’ I mean. The one I’m friends with now.” He paused, considering that. “Was friends with.”

Angel

" I'll say. " Blowing up an exe's property sounded perfectly justifiable to him, and it wasn't just Cherri's influence. But he guessed if Alastor felt bad about it that only meant he preferred other ways of moving on.

" Rosie... she... busy a lot? Ya got enough company out 'ere? "

Alastor

“Oh, everyone loves me in the Cannibal Colony. All the ladies swoon and all the men beg me to come over for dinner. I can’t go half a block without getting roped into small talk and dance numbers.” He didn’t sound terribly enthusiastic about it. But he added, “I have better company here than I do anywhere else in Hell,” and *that* was completely true.

Angel

" Well... sounds like a good place fa ya to be... " Angel pondered some. Of course Cannibal Colony was his personal wonderland. But there must be something missing for him to leave, he figured. " Pause the clock for a sec, " he said with a clear of his throat, " Rosie got room fa one more? "

Alastor

“I don’t want a roommate.” He gave the answer immediately; and then, after a moment, grudgingly, asked, “Are you trying to get away from the hotel?”

Angel

" I ain't askin' t' be ya roommate, " he growled, " YOU'RE the one turnin' tail 'ere. " With that, Angel snapped his fingers. " Clock's back on. I ain't ya friend no more. "

Alastor

Alastor stared at him, lost. “Th—No, pause the clock—Then what *are* you asking?”

Angel

He crossed his arms and eyed him sternly. " If ya... " A sigh. He already knew the answer. " If ya need a friend, Al. Ya gonna be out 'ere for fuckall knows how long. Ya goin' through it. Would be much easier if all I had to do was turn a corner instead a hikin' all the way over whenever ya felt like stealin' a wallet. "

Alastor

All right, that was what he’d originally thought. He didn’t know why Angel got *offended* that Alastor hadn’t wanted a favor that had been offered for Alastor’s benefit—but then it wasn’t the first time, was it? “I don’t want a friend nearby. I don’t want to be *watched* while I’m... thinking things over. I need to have that distance.” He unconsciously glanced toward the wallet as he said the last word.

Angel

" That mean ya done? " he asked with a toss of his chin down Alastor's line of sight.

Alastor

He snapped his gaze back to Angel. “No. No, just—have to look somewhere, don’t I?” Deep breath. “Sorry. Distracted. Where were we?”

Angel

He actually pulled him back. Color Angel surprised. " Ya blew up his shit, it didn't do ya no good, ya made a mean jambalaya... "

Alastor

“*Right.* Yes. That’s not the one I wanted to talk about. *He’s* not the one I wanted to talk about. I just—needed you to know the context, but... The one I’m friends with now. That one.”

Angel

" Yeah. The one who kicked ya to the curb after ya tore yourself the fuck apart tryin' to be who he wanted ya to be instead a seein' an' appreciatin' ya fa who you are, " he stated matter of factly with a moderate sweep of his arm, " _That one._ Pen. "

Alastor

It stung to hear. Another little needle jammed into his heart, right alongside all the others already buried in. "If I was tearing myself apart to be who he wanted, then he *couldn't* see who I really was, could he? I've been more or less lying to him as long as he's known me. He's got every right to distrust me."

Angel

" More or less, " Angel echoed, " So ya _not_ entirely convinced you were completely in the wrong. " His eyes challenged him. Though the secondary six didn't have pupils, an eerie weight carried through. " It's 'cause you're not. "

Alastor

"I *meant* in the sense that even when I wasn't *actively* lying, I was lying by omission." He shook his head. "Even if I... It's nothing I don't deserve anyway—in general, in a... you know, a karmic sense. Years ago, I stabbed a version of him in the heart; now he stabs me in the heart. He was probably... *selected,* on some celestial level, to be my punishment." He'd been doing a valiant job of keeping at least a ghost of a smile on his face, but it was starting to waver now. "I knew this wasn't going to work. Of course we couldn't be friends—he was just thrown in my path to rip open the wounds I'd gotten too good at ignoring. If it had a chance of working, we wouldn't have been allowed to meet."

Angel

" What's the point a harpin' on about what ya do an' don't deserve if there ain't no redemption to be had? That cross on ya chest ain't ever gonna flip. " _Catholic,_ he heard Alastor's voice echo in his head. How he _loathed_ those places of worship. Even before being damned his skin burned with rancor every time he crossed an altar. And he did so many times with and without a Colt tucked into his coat. " What'cha expectin' to be comin' outta sufferin' like a good lil' sinner? 'Cause no matter how many times I dunked my wank hand into the holy water, " he said curtly as he signed himself, " I kept missin' the memo. " Intentionally. But he could play dumb for now if it helped him drag some religious trauma out of him.

Alastor

"I don't expect anything to come out of it but more suffering. I don't expect a reward, redemption, or respite. But—and here's the key part—I don't expect anything to come out of denial and resistance, either. Either way, I'm going to suffer and nothing's going to improve. Because this is *Hell,* and *nothing* gets better, and only a *damn fool* tries to improve his lot. Even if he succeeds, it's only because Hell is letting him set himself up for an even greater fall." He crossed his legs loosely, propping his elbow on a knee and his chin in his hand, letting his fingers half cover his mouth. "This situation is just further proof of that."

Angel

" So ya called me just so you can fuck yourself over a lil' more? Ya " damn fool " ? 'Cause if ya lookin' to get fucked UP an' do it RIGHT, that's up my alley, too. " Angel flashed a crooked smirk and waved a his hand. He wasn't serious. However, he _did_ fundementally disagree. " I'm kiddin'. Kiddin'. But ya know. So long as we're stuck kickin' around, sufferin', may as well keep things interestin', " he droned with a shift to his knees so he could reach Alastor's shoulder, " Keep takin' chances. Keep chasin' the next best thing. Keep doin' what'cha do. It ain't gonna matter an' it's always gonna suck, but at least ya get ya kicks outta watchin' other demons handle it a lot worse than you, ah? "

Alastor

He laughed weakly. "I've tried getting f#%ked up." A muffled beep obscured most of the word. "Funny thing though, once you get tired of that, you still have to pick up the pieces. And I never have liked cleaning up messes."

A lump formed in his throat when Angel touched his shoulder. "Next best thing," he muttered. "That's what I've been doing. All this time." He could hear his voice trembling, but he couldn't stop it. "If I can't be *happy*, at least I can be *entertained.* Ha! I just w—!" He couldn't finish the sentence. He slid his hand up to fully cover his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut.

Angel

Angel chuckled in time with his laugh. Was that part of his act? Was the bleep conscious? He had so many jokes at the ready. He was MORE than ready to start trying to make him laugh...

... but instead, Alastor shattered like glass. Just a touch of a hand was all it took? He always took extra care to respect his space after their first conversation. Right now he was just leading him by example, showing rather than just telling him to take chances.

_" ... Al... "_ He thought he should pull back. Maybe it was a bad call. But if he let go, there'd be nothing there to catch his pieces. _And Alastor surely didn't like cleaning up messes._ Angel took a short breath before raising another hand. He gently squared his shoulders towards him. _" Hey... You ok there buddy? "_

Alastor

He shook his head. But he also didn't pull back. Just this once, apparently, this was what he needed.

Angel

Angel almost felt like he'd be more comfortable holding a hornet's nest, but at least providing this sort of comfort was more his speed. " C'mere. " Cautiously, he slid his arms past Alastor to angle his head over his shoulder and avoid a pair of antlers to the throat. In the same motion, he slipped beside him to support any weight that would fall. _Was it too much?_ He kept his secondary arms on the floor for now, a small crunch of product in his ear as his cheek tilted into his hair.

Alastor

Yes, that *was* what he needed. He'd be surprised at himself if he wasn't trying so hard to hold himself together. He leaned his weight into Angel, pulled his knees up to his chest, and covered his face entirely, one hand over his mouth and one hand over his eyes.

Voice cracking, choking on every few words, he said, "I just—wish—I could stop—dragging him into it. I don't want to be the—the one assigned to—make him suffer. That would be enough."

Angel

_You're NOT..._ Angel took a deep breath and pulled him closer, all arms around him now, a couple subtly rubbing his back. This wasn't a point of argument he could win. He couldn't contest or even tell him it'd be ok. So every time he choked, he gave a little squeeze. Every time he cracked he gave a more deliberate stroke. He could cry into his fluff. It'd be ok. He wouldn't look. Instead of protest, he affirmatively hummed along.

Alastor

He couldn't quite bring himself to cry into the fluff, that was a step too far. That would be the point where chronic touch aversion won out over acute touch starvation again.

But he *was* willing to press his forehead into the fluff—oh wow that was really soft. That was. Insanely soft. Holy shit. It lived up to the advertising.

Angel

He seemed to still. That was good. Angel brought a hand to the top of his head to gauge where the antlers were again, but _god_ was his hair a mess. Roots showing, old pomade... at least it didn't feel an awful brand. Keeping his chin up, he relaxed his hold on him and stayed put, listening closely for potentially muffled words.

Alastor

Just one word for the moment, croaked out from beneath a hand and a wall of fluff: "Thanks." He'll work a few more out, just—give him a moment first. It's been a long time since he's let himself be touched by anyone but the person he's currently a wreck over.

Angel

" Yeah... I won't mention it, " he said quietly before brushing a thumb over the base of his ear. Alongside the softness, it was almost en_deer_ing how small he managed to make himself. But he was a broken man. Angel hoped he'd never have to see this side of Alastor again regardless of how used to his frame he was getting. Less a hornet's nest, more a vulnerable demon just like any other.

Alastor

And Alastor sincerely hoped to never be seen like this again; but that wasn't totally in his control, was it?

He took several deep breaths, white noise hisses; and then asked, "Should I—even try again? Being friends? Or would we both be better off to—not?"

He desperately wanted a *yes, try again.* But he couldn't give himself one. He'd been trying, for days; all his excuses and rationalizations rang false. They all sounded selfish and naive.

Angel

Angel bit his lip. _No,_ he wanted to say, _Not if ya gonna keep runnin' yourself into the ground. Not if you're gonna cling to this idea of suffering._

_Ya just gonna be back 'ere again._

But so would he, wouldn't he? Angel already decided. He wasn't going back to the studio. If nowhere else... he was going to be here. Playing redemption.

" ... He. Should try, " he said sternly as he traced waves, " You don't do a fuckdamn THING to get in his good graces until he makes it up to ya. That's the only way this could work. Ya gave 'im everythin'. It's his turn. "

Alastor

Alastor's throat tightened. He didn't like that answer. "But being loved by a friend is *horrible.*" Voice of experience. "He didn't *want* everything from me. I can't blame him for being upset at having so much shoved onto him. How could I?"

Angel

Angel sighed heavily. Temporary fluff suffocation. You'll survive, Alastor. " I ain't sayin' ya gotta do that. Just that he should f'give ya some. Y'ain't no scarlet fuckin' letter. Just a guy. Wit' a complicated past. Wit' some complicated feelin's. If he's gonna be givin' any bit of a damn about you, he's gonna have to wade through some of it without judgin' ya or blamin' ya. It's what friends do. "

Alastor

That's fine, breathing is optional. He can wait.

"Oh, no? If I had a big red letter pinned to me, are you sure you could tell? B for backstabber." He sighed. "Right—of course. If he doesn't decide to forgive me, there's nothing else I can do. It's out of my hands until then."

Angel

" You'll be _fine,_ " he relented with a sink of his chin onto his head and a wide circle over Alastor's back, " You'll get along again. You'll get over y'selves. Even if ya don't, you'll still be fine. "

Alastor

They'll get along again. They'll be fine. His throat squeezed shut. He doubted Angel had any real way of knowing that was true, but he clung to it anyway.

He tried to nod, found he was buried too deep in fluff to complete the movement, and instead managed a garbled, "*Mhm.*"

Angel

" Mhm, " he echoed affirmatively, fingering a wayward curl back into place. At least as close a place he could figure. Angel then squeezed him tight around the shoulders before loosening into casual sweeps. " ... ... Ya smilin'? "

Alastor

He doubted it, but he prodded his cheek with the fingertips of the hand still over his mouth to check. "Mm-mm." That's a negative.

Angel

His lashes fluttered. He wasn't actually expecting him to say no. " Ok... I'll stay here, long as ya need to. If ya comfortable bein' a lil' ball. "

Alastor

"Mhm." Just a few more minutes. In a few more minutes he'd be able to collect himself. They'd get along again and they'd be fine, and if they didn't—if they didn't he'd face that when he had to.

Angel

" Mhm. " He wanted to chuckle. _Grunt after grunt._ Should he feel guilty about how _funny_ he found this? Probably. Only for the next few minutes as he cycled through the usual motions: playing with his hair, ears, rubbing his back, shoulders, the typical things clients found soothing before and after. Alastor had yet to protest, so he felt certain enough to venture he wasn't _bothered._ Nonetheless, they remained light, idle, all but absent minded. Working, but for a friend.

Alastor

He stayed there for several more minutes, until the idle background sensation of disembodied touches on his back and head slowly returned to what they usually were: prickly, uncomfortable reminders of another thinking feeling person pressed up against his body. He felt his shoulders start to tense and he pulled back a bit from the fluff. "Okay, that's—that's all I can handle."

Angel

" Handle? " Angel questioned as his arms dropped from Alastor's person in favor of leaning back on them, so he could remove himself on his own accord. " Interestin'... choice a words, there. " He tipped his sights to the corner of the room for a spell as he thought. " You ok? "

Alastor

He drew back and started straightening his clothes and brushing himself off—he had a smile back on, but God was it a tired-looking one. Dryly, he asked, “In what sense?”

Angel

" Er... relative sense. " Angel then cautiously leaned into the empty space. " Whataya mean, all ya can handle? "

Alastor

“My personal space bubble turned back on.” He stood up and continued tidying himself, brushing off his pants.

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