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drugsorgasmsandcheese · 9 months ago

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trouble, j. miller | chapter two

mob!joel miller x fem!reader

chapter summary: your first shift at apocalypse lives up to the standards that you hoped for, and you work your charm on everyone there. money and validation never hurt anyone, and you definitely didn’t mind it.

chapter warnings: alcohol consumption, food consumption, uh oh curse words, joel miller being a “power to the people, stick it to the man” man (we believe in that over on this blog), reader & dancers shake ass bc they can, google translated spanish 😍, no beta again, AND DID SOMEONE SAY JAVIER PEÑA!?

word count: 2274

also can u guys start asking me to be on this taglist by either bribing me or threatening me idk i think i’d just like to see “add me to your taglist or i’m gonna be under your bed at 9:03pm”

(series masterlist)

when you step outside of the changing room, you head over to the snack drawers. you may have eaten before you arrived, but turning down free food was a sin in your eyes. you settle on a pack of hot cheetos and some trolli candy before sitting in a high chair and allowing lucy to do your makeup.

lucy was a lovely woman. she told you the basics about her, how she’s trying to save money so she can buy her first apartment, the name of her cat, etc. and, jesus christ, lucy was good at make up. her shade match was amazing, the blush and contour sculpted your face well. the eye make up was a smoked out black wing, with purple eye glitter on your eyelids. your lips were glossy, pouty, and fucking sexy, if you did say so yourself.

“lucy, i want you to know that if you ever decide to dump your boyfriend, i will be right here waiting for you.” you take another look at yourself in the mirror. “i look so hot i want to fuck myself.”

lucy giggles, and the two of you join adele, who runs you through everything you need to know. when she gets to the hourly pay and tips, your mouth drops in shock. “damn, didn’t realise joel was such a socialist.”

adele and lucy laugh. “baby, he pays everyone here good.”

lucy nods. “dancers get their money from customers and an hourly pay too. he treats us all good, it’s why we all like working here so much.”

you get to know some of the women whilst you’re there. you dance with them, they teach you some moves that are part of their routines, you sing with them. in all honesty, a lot of time hadn’t passed and you felt like you would defend these women with your life.

a knock sounds on the door, and adele opens it to find joel standing there. he beckons you with his hand outstretched. you give your goodbyes to the girls, dramatic as ever but you would miss this moment between you all, even if they did say you could drop by this room any time you want like the other female waiting staff did.

you join joel’s side, his hand going onto your lower back again as he guides you to another room.

“kitchen. head chef is joey,” he points to an elder man with black hair and a slight stubble. he seems mean…you’ll fix that. “that’s quinn,” he points to a woman with blonde hair, “and that’s tim.” you look at tim. tim looks stoned. you think about joining tim to get high on your next shift.

“hi everyone!” you wave at them giddily.

“some guests like food whilst they’re here, ‘s why we have the kitchen. ask for something for yourself and they’ll whip it up for ya’ too.” joel checks his watch, and you don’t know much about watches, but it looks expensive and you unconsciously gulp. he’s rich, damn.

“i’ll take ya’ back up to my office so we can go over some stuff before we open.”

when you get to his office, joel offers for you to take a seat across from his. his chair, however, spins, and you’re much more fascinated by that instead of the boring sofa. you take a seat on the rotating chair and begin to spin on it. joel sighs, shaking his head like he was surprised by your behaviour thus far.

“need to go over the shifts you can do. now, i don’t want ya’ overworkin’ yourself or being too tired for your damn lectures. so tell me what shifts you can do for now, and we can go over the rest later.”

you stop your spinning and look up at him. “i can do weekend shifts at any time. um…i have a nine am lecture on tuesday and thursday. wednesdays i don’t have a lecture until three, and mondays and friday i can work after five.”

“alright, give me your number so i can arrange your shifts. you get paid in cash every week and you’ll collect it from my office at the end of the night.”

you smirk, lifting your index finger up to your lips and biting down on the tip. “my number? joel miller, you flirt! take me to dinner first, please.”

he says your name sternly, a warning. “give me your damn number and get outta here. damn trouble, you are.”

you giggle, writing down your number on a piece of paper and giving it to him, and taking an ipad that carries the menu on it, sauntering out of his office and heading back to the dancer’s room.

——

at nine pm, the club doors open and you have your first group sat in one of the v.i.p. booths. a woman orders a sex on the beach, and the other orders a martini. you take the order down to the bar to gather the drinks and meet the bartender.

he introduced himself as javier, shaking your hand and kissing it gently, making you giggle. you knew you were going to get along with him very well.

as you wait for the drinks, one of the dancers comes over and talks to you. chelsea, her name is. a real blonde bombshell who you think would’ve been amazing in the barbie movie. she’s got a bubbly personality and a cute laugh. she tells you that she attends the same college as you, studying chemistry and physics.

you’re cut off when javier places your drinks on a tray and passes it to you. you give a little wave to chelsea as she is called to a booth to entertain the men.

“don’t be a stranger, mi amor.” javier calls out to you, and you giggle.

“and miss out on you? never!” you shout over your shoulder.

as you walk through the v.i.p. floor, you spot some of the girls and give your greetings to them, winking and grinning as they walk by. you make it back to the table and place the drinks down in front of the two women, and you gasp at them both.

“i just noticed your make up, holy shit! you girls are stunning.” your customer service skills deserves an award, and you’re forever thankful that you’re a massive extrovert and can get away with half the shit that comes out of your mouth.

the girls give their thanks to you, complimenting you back and you shrug them off. you were getting tipped tonight whether they liked it or not. you were hellbent on winning everyone over.

it’s when you’re putting in an eighth round of drinks that you feel a hand on your lower back yet again. you turn your head to see joel, looking down at you.

“need you in booth five.”

“alright, just gotta get these drinks from javi and some orders from the kitchen and i’ll be with you.” you smile at him, and joel walks away back to the booth.

you take your drinks from javi, and he doesn’t forget to give you some pet names in spanish, and you head back to one of the private rooms. you see a woman by the name of destiny dancing on a small stage with a pole as you give the men their drinks. she winks at you and you return it.

you place the drinks down in front of the men, taking your tray as you lean down and whisper to the closest one to you. “i’ll be back with your food, sir.”

and you return within five minutes, having won over the entire kitchen staff with your undeniable charm. you arrive with two large plates of nachos that the three men share between themselves. one of them slips you a hundred dollar bill, and you blow a kiss his way as you leave the private room.

men were too easy sometimes.

you enter the soundproof glass door of booth five, stepping in and pulling out your tablet. “any drinks i can get for you guys?”

a bald headed man orders a jack and coke, one with a skin fade orders a budweiser and you had to do a subtle double take on him because men in their thirties have skin fades? huh, you learn something new everyday. you look at joel and he shakes his head. “i’m alright, darlin’.”

you smile at him, placing the orders through on the tablet. “i’ll be back soon. let me know if you need anything else.”

as you walk up to the bar, you smile at javi. “oh, my beautiful husband. how i’ve missed you.”

javi looks at you and smirks. “ah, mi pequeña esposa, you’re back. what drinks do you need?” {my little wife}

“jack and coke and a budweiser.” you respond, resting your arms flat on the bartop and placing your head on it as you watch jack make the drinks, your tablet sat right next to you. “javi, what’s the weirdest drink you’ve had someone order?”

“bloody mary with passion fruit liquor.” he grimaces, as do you. what kind of sick fucks were drinking bloody mary’s anyway? and you can make a bloody mary worse? ew.

“i wanna see a drink named after me on this menu one day.” you take the drinks from him as he chuckles.

walking back to the booth, you balance the tray on one hand whilst the other opens the glass door. you place the drinks down in front of the two men, giving them sultry looks as you do.

you were going home with benjamin franklin tonight. you were determined.

as you stand back up and move closer to joel’s seat, you could feel his eyes on you, and when you looked at him, he seemed to be hiding back a smirk, picking up on your games. and it works, as both men slip you a few hundred dollar bills that you tuck under the strap of your bra to stash away later.

“anything else i can get for you gentleman tonight?” when they respond with a ‘no’, you feel a light tap on your thigh. brown eyes meeting yours, he gestures for you to come closer, and you bend down so his mouth is next to your ear.

“little shit.” he whispers, and you chuckle, standing back up to your full height and leaving the booth.

the only time you return to joel’s booth is to take away cups and refill drinks. you don’t hear much of the conversation that happens because, quite frankly, you don’t care. the bald guy and the one with the skin fade keep slipping you bills and that’s enough to buy your silence and curiosity.

you return to some of the private rooms, getting drinks for guests and dancers, but during the final moments of your shift, you’re sat at the bar talking to javier. you learn that he’s been friends with joel since high school. they’re practically brothers, and although they weren’t related, they do look alike…

“shithead.” joel’s voice calls out, and you can only assume he’s referring to you due to the choice in nickname.

“that better be meant as an endearment or i will be snitching to my pops.” you say as you walk over, blowing javi a kiss as a means of goodbye. “he may be in his sixties but he can still put a crow bar to use.”

joel rolls his eyes and guides you back to the dancer’s room. you open the door halfway before he decides to speak: “wait around here for a bit and i’ll come get you. i’ll be taking you home so make sure you’ve got everything.”

you pout playfully. “well, aren’t you just a sweetheart.” and your words cause him to roll his eyes again.

“get in there, ya’ little shit.” and he gently pushes you in.

for the next two hours, you and the girls spend your time dancing to some 2000’s r&b. you and chelsea end up whining on each other, and you all collapse by the time ‘smack that’ has finished, giggling away among yourselves as adele is highly entertained by your energy.

a knock at the door sounds, and you can tell it’s joel. you grab the clothes you wore before your shift started, and when you open it, joel is stood there carrying your bag.

“ya’ got everything?”

“you sound like a divorced dad who has joint custody over his daughter. yes, i have everything.” joel sighs at your comment, rubbing the space between his eyebrows which causes you to giggle.

“bye guys!” you wave goodbye to everyone as you and joel leave the building. he unlocks his black porsche and you hop in the front, shivering slightly at how cold it was.

joel notices this, turning on the heated seats as he drives you home to your grandparents. when you’re outside your house, joel stops you from getting out. “i’ll text you your shifts. my number is strictly for work.”

“got it, text you whenever i want. bye joel!” you shout, running out of the car and unlocking your front door, heading straight to your bedroom so you can take off your make up and finally be comfortable.

you fail to notice how joel’s car doesn’t drive away until he sees you’ve entered the house, and that you safely got to your room when your bedroom light turns on. you don’t see how he smiled at your little comment, shaking his head as he drives away.

oh, you were trouble, alright.

____

a/n: reader tormenting joel and him just tolerating it is my ideal relationship

taglist (if you want to be added, pls let me know!! & if your name is in bold, i couldn’t find your account :()

@dugiioh @amyispxnk @skysmiller @alyhull @noisynightmarepoetry @elliaze @dendulinka6 @zliteraturehoe @atyourmerci @al33naaa @mermaidgirl30 @lulawantmula @nana90azevedo @endlessthxxghts @getitoutofmymind @you-taste-so-sweet @blazeflays @iveseenstrangerthings50 @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @aquanatalie @katw474 @ludwigxii-blog @eloquentdreamer @kyloispunk @txmentor @din-jarring @daddysmilf0123 @sofiparallel @dunkinzjm @runningmom94 @ashhlsstuff @moel-jiller @isimpforfictionalmen @drewharrisonwriter @stormseyer @rodriguez31 @elliesswearjar @vvitchesh3x @joeldjarin @untamedheart81 @ellishamae25 @pedropascalfan221 @mellymbee @pedritosgfreal @yassspose @casa-boiardi

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller series #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller au #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel x reader #mob!joel #mob boss!joel

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maraschinomerry · 9 months ago

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Sidekick

Pairings: George Karim x gn!reader

Summary: The shelves in the basement collapse on George, and he offers to help you fix them.

Content: fluff, mild injury, more fluff, first kiss

A/N: this is dedicated to my dad, who did actually teach me DIY, and to @oblivious-idiot who encouraged me to write this definitely-not-based-on-real-experiences lil fic ❤️

Word count: 2.2k

Taglist: @neewtmas @marinalor @ettadear @honey-with-tea @mischiefmanaged71 (let me know if you want adding or removing!)

The serenity of a morning without work in 35 Portland Row was interrupted by a rather spectacular crash. Concerned, you leapt from your place in the living room, flinging your book onto the sofa and dashing into the hallway with two pairs of thundering footsteps on the stairs above.

“What was that?” Lockwood called, and though you couldn't make out the reply you could tell it was Lucy above him. That just left George, in the basement. Oh god. Not that you wouldn't have been worried if it was either of the others, but you'd had a crush on the boy ever since you joined the agency two months ago and the thought of something happening to him lent a panicked urgency to your movements. You burst through the kitchen door, into the basement and were immediately met with a whirlwind of papers scattered across the floor. In the middle of it all, surrounded by half-empty files and pieces of broken shelf, was George, sitting on the ground looking dazed.

“Shit, George, are you okay?” you rushed down the spiral staircase, dropping to your knees as you frantically checked him over. There was a red mark leading into his hairline and a piece of splintered wood tangled in his curls. He tilted his head, taking in the destruction before turning his gaze up through his eyelashes to you, whose hand was in his hair searching for any hidden injuries. Your breath caught in your throat. You realised this was the first time you'd touched him more than just in passing, and the way he was looking at you had your stomach doing backflips. This wasn't how you'd expected a moment like this to come about. It didn't much matter, because the moment was quickly broken by Lockwood and Lucy scrambling down the stairs. You pulled back, knowing you had no reason to be embarrassed but still feeling vulnerable to be caught so close to him.

“I think the shelves broke,” George stated simply.

“Is he okay?” Lockwood directed the question to you. Probably for the best, you weren't sure the other boy could be trusted to judge his condition too well. “Looks like he got hit in the forehead, and fell of course. Can't find anything serious though.”

“Someone should still keep an eye on him. Luce, do we have any ice?”

Lucy nodded, turning back towards the kitchen while Lockwood made his way further down the stairs. “Come on, mate,” he murmured as he draped one of George's arms over his shoulder, gently helping him to his feet and back upstairs.

You spent the next few hours hovering anxiously. George had settled into an armchair in the library, bag of ice pressed to his head to begin with. Lockwood and Lucy were sorting the spilled papers and came in every so often, bringing painkillers and tea, but you stayed the whole time. He tried to assure you that he was okay, but you knew by the way he occasionally furrowed his brow and grimaced at the book he was trying to read that a headache was brewing.

“Are you sure you're alright? You look like you're in pain, can I do anything to help?”

George hesitated. “I just… no, it's silly.”

“No, please, what is it?”

“I've only got one page left of this chapter, but my head hurts and I can't focus properly. Would you… would you read it?”

You took the book and settled into the other armchair. Once you began to read, George closed his eyes to shut out the lights and leant back with a contented smile.

—

The next day at breakfast, after everyone had checked in on George, Lockwood brought up the basement.

“I'm going to call some contractors today, see if we can get some new shelves installed. Lucy and I have got all the papers stacked, but we need to get them properly organised and we can't do that if the office is still a wreck.”

You frowned. “Or we could just order the supplies and I'll build them? Saves paying someone else to do it.”

“You can do that?”

“I mean, I think so?” You began to doubt yourself a little, but pressed on. “My dad taught me how to do all sorts of DIY stuff. That's how I fixed the rapier stand.”

“That was you?!” Lucy looked at you, baffled. “But how, I didn't think we had any tools?”

You beckoned them to follow you and led them up the stairs to your room. You didn't have much, just a wardrobe for your clothes and a few books on your desk, but there was a wooden storage chest at the end of your bed which you opened and allowed them to look inside. To the left was a metal toolbox, and Lockwood unfolded it to reveal screwdrivers, spanners, pliers, a small hammer and sections of screws, bolts and washers. Behind the box was a saw in its sleeve and a large pair of wire strippers, and in their own cases alongside were a drill and a soldering iron.

“You are so cool,” George grinned.

That weekend, a van pulled up outside the house. A stocky man with a thick ginger beard brought in several sheets of wood and a box, stacking them in the hallway. George helped you carry them down to the basement, and once everything was set he lingered at the bottom of the stairs. His forehead was less swollen now, and his eyes were bright and alert as he watched you set up.

“I know you've got this covered, but do you want a hand? I feel bad that you're fixing my mess.”

You smiled softly at him. It was these glimpses of tenderness underneath the blunt, snarky persona he used with others that had drawn you to him in the first place, but you wondered how many others got to see it besides you. “It wasn’t your fault, but help would be great actually.”

He moved forward with a mock salute. “Just tell me what you need, boss.”

—

You couldn't believe how much you were enjoying your afternoon. At least, you thought it was the afternoon - it was hard to tell how much time passed in the basement, but you weren't on a deadline and didn't much care how much time it took as it meant more time with George. It had turned out to be incredibly helpful having him around - for the most part he let you do what needed to be done, but the instant you needed an extra pair of hands to hold the wood in place or pass you something he was by your side. The best part of it all was being able to talk. The two of you had chatted before, of course, but it being just the two of you in such close proximity meant the conversation went much deeper than it ever had before. George had asked about your dad, based on your comment about him teaching you how to build things, which gave both of you the chance to open up about your families more. It always broke your heart to hear him think of himself as the weirdo of his family; your dad was a little on the eccentric side which had rubbed off on you. That was probably why you and George had connected in the first place.

“I hope you get to meet my dad some day,” you thought aloud. “I think he'd get on well with you.”

“I'd like that,” George flushed a little as he handed you the drill. You'd got the first few shelves put together and on the wall, working your way up until you were now at chest height. You glanced up at the empty space leading to the ceiling.

“Do we have a ladder?”

George pulled a face and gestured to a small set of steps in the corner. That would have to do.

You climbed up, ignoring the slight wobble, and George passed you a pair of brackets which you screwed into place. Then, you picked up the plank of wood for the shelf. Shit. The steps were slightly too close to be able to swing the wood into place easily, but if you moved back you'd only have to bring them closer again to get the screws in. You took a risk and leaned back.

The steps wobbled even more.

You gasped.

The steps stopped wobbling.

George's hand was on the small of your back, keeping you steady, while his foot rested firmly on the lower frame. You swallowed thickly, not wanting to make things weird but trying to savour the sensation.

As soon as it was clear you weren't going to fall, George's hand retracted. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn't mean to…”

“No, it's fine,” you cut in, praying your face was less red than it felt. “That helped, thanks.”

“Well, I did offer,” he chuckled with a shrug and you laughed along, the tension between you dissipating. You felt it return a little when you prepared to make the move again; this time George placed both hands delicately, respectfully, on your waist, but somehow you both settled into it and it felt almost natural. Would this be how it felt if he…? No, not the time.

With the wood in place, George passed you a handful of screws and you clamped them in your teeth to free up your hands for the drill. George was still standing on the bottom of the steps, gazing up at you in wonder.

“I feel like the sidekick to an agent.”

You giggled. “George, you are an agent.”

“No!” He swatted playfully at your arm. “I mean like a secret agent with all the cool gadgets. I'm the Q to your Bond.” He began humming the James Bond theme, miming shooting bad guys with the drill whenever you handed it to him. At one point, you aimed it at him and he dropped dramatically to the ground, making you laugh so much you almost fell off the now unguarded ladder.

The enticing scent of dinner drifting down from the kitchen told you it was getting late, but you were finally finished. Wiping a few flakes of sawdust from your hands, you stepped back to admire your work.

“They're fantastic, y/n,” George was already adding files to the lower shelves. “Really impressive.”

“Thanks,” you replied bashfully.

George stopped, fidgeting anxiously with the corner of the folder he was holding. “I mean it. You're so talented and caring, and I really do appreciate you looking after me the other day and letting me help, I didn't do anywhere near as much as you but I… Well, I liked being able to spend the time with you.”

You felt yourself melting and tensing at the same time. You'd been hoping for so long that he had feelings the way you did, but how could you be sure you weren't misreading things? George seemed to sense your hesitation, and his face fell. He was going to pull back. You were going to lose your chance. You stepped forward, taking the folder and placing it to one side. The action made your fingers brush against George's, and you were pleasantly surprised when his nervous movements transferred to him linking his fingers loosely with yours and running his thumb across your palm. Every brush sent sparks up your arm, and you struggled to focus on what you wanted to say.

“You don't need an excuse to hang out with me, George. I've always got time for you.”

His fingers wove a little tighter, and he scrunched his glasses back up his nose. His face was always so cute when he did that. “How about tomorrow? Coffee after we've been to the Archives?”

Your cheeks were definitely red this time, but you didn't mind. “Are you asking me on a date?”

“Depends,” he bit his lip. “Are you saying yes?”

You simply smiled, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his lips. He blinked at you in surprise for a second, then wrapped his free hand around your waist to pull you in closer. This time the kiss was deeper. He tasted like the tea he'd brought down an hour ago, rich and earthy with a hint of sweetness, an aftertaste of ginger. In the back of your mind you were aware of Lucy calling you both for dinner, but right now there was no taste that could tempt you away. George let out a soft sound from the back of his throat when you wound your hand into the curls at the nape of his neck, his own hand clutching at the fabric of your top like a lifeline. The creak of the basement door forced you to finally break apart and hastily straighten yourselves out.

“Nice work, you two!” Lucy grinned at the new shelves as she poked her head down the stairs. “You should work together more often.”

“I'm sure we will,” George threw you a wink and a quick, hidden squeeze of your hand as he passed you, following Lucy up into the warm glow of the kitchen.

#lockwood & co #george karim x reader #george karim #gn!reader #lockwood and co fic

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blueberrypancakesworld · 11 months ago

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In a relationship - Coryo,Sejanus,Lucy

warning : fluff, comfort

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Coriolanus Snow : He would love you just too obsessively after Lucy had betrayed him. You were the only one who had never betrayed him, who had always been there for him, who had done everything he asked of you. In return, he would reward you with gifts of clothes, jewelry, physical favors. He was the snow that always lands on top and you were his wife. No matter how much the outside appears, as soon as the doors close, he is the one who snuggles up to you. He needs your touch and loves it when you stroke his head and wipe away his tears when he mourns his friend. He gives you everything you want in return, you are the pretty jewel by his side as long as you behave yourself. But he would bring you a white rose every day with a kiss and entertain you with poems he had found in his grandmothers' old books. They were small moments but moments of love that put everything back in order at a time when the snow is stained with blood.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Sejanus Plinth : He would look after you and care for you whether you came from a district like his or from the Capitol. You are the most important thing to him, the only person next to Snow with whom he doesn't have to put on the cold face of a winner. He wants you to see the real him, his soft, caring, maybe even his broken side the longer you're together. His parents had money, everyone knew that, but even if he used it to buy things, it was mostly things that made him see you smile. He always gently takes your hand and kisses your cheek every time he greets you before the kiss turns into an intimate one in the evening. He takes you out to his old district on dark days to show you what it's really like. What he had suffered and he tries to hide his tears on those dark, broken days. His heart only beat harder with devotion and love when he felt your gentle hands on his cheeks. You reassure him that everything is all right and pull him onto the sofa with you. He lies his head on your lap and cries silently to himself while you take away his guilt. He is infinitely grateful that you are not what this world tried to make of him. That instead of heartlessness you are devotion and love.

~~~~~~~~~~

She is your sunshine and would give anything to keep you and her safe after the games. The connection to you through the different districts because even though you are actually from District 12, you joined her. It was the Hunger Games that had separated you, but in all that time you had held on to each other. She thought of you, sang the songs on TV just for you, the expressions and gestures were all for Lucy's friend. The reunion at the lake and the concert that followed was even bigger. Lucy took you to the lake with her in summer and spring. The black-haired beauty started to play the guitar whenever she could and sang the songs. Songs that made her beloved's heart beat and knowing that it was safe, that she could trust again was one of the most important things. That even when it rained, the stones of the mountains and shadows frightened Lucy because it reminded her of the horrors of the arena, she was infinitely grateful to her muse that she had them. When she gently pulled Lucy into her arms, playing with the long strands of hair, softly murmuring a song and moving back and forth, she took away her fear. She had her songbird's softness again and Lucy was still unbroken by the love of her beloved.

~~~~~~~~~~~

@tinfairies , @darlingtulips , @tins-library , @redactedfanficarchive , @wondering-again , @qoopeeya , @oceansrose2002

#tbosas #tbosas movie #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #sejanus plinth #sejanus x reader #lucy gray baird #lucy gray x reader

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mccarthawrites · 1 year ago

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Friends With Benefits

Relationship: Matt Simmons/OC!Lucy Rivera

Rating: General Audience

Summary: Matt and Lucy see each other again and briefly discuss their relationship.

Author's Note: I am taking a hiatus after this. But I don't plan to be gone long. Not allowing myself to write anything unless inspiration strikes.

Words: 1,348

Strike Zone Masterlist || Criminal Minds Masterlist

Lucy approached the large black door with a silver nameplate that read: McClellan Suite. Checking the text from Matt to make sure she was in the right place, she reluctantly knocked on the door. Wishing he had met her in the lobby, but how would that have looked? It wasn’t the first time she showed up at a hotel for a hook-up with a hot athlete. But there was something about Matt. No. She wasn’t going to allow feelings to get between her and good sex. No, not good. Great. She was about to knock again when he opened the door.

“Hi.” He smiled, having been looking forward to seeing her again. He wore an olive green henley and a silver chain with the Wolverines mascot pendant.

“Hey.”

“Uh- come on in.” He welcomed her into the suite. “How are you?”

“I’m alright.” She nodded. “How’ve you been? Congrats on a successful season. You guys killed it.”

“Thanks, but I think we shat the bed in the last game.” He scoffed.

“I wouldn’t say a tie is shitting the bed. At least you didn’t bomb like the Cyclones. Their worst season in like fifteen years. Something like that.” She laughed.

“Can I get you something to drink?” He asked. “I was thinking about ordering a bottle of wine or something. Is that alright?” He asked, walking to the hotel phone.

“I will never say no to wine.”

“Any preference?” He picked up the receiver.

“Whatever you choose is fine. I’m not picky.” She replied, looking around the suite. It was the nicest one she’d been in since ending her engagement. She walked to the windows overlooking the city. Looking down at the city passing by.

“Yes, thank you.” Matt hung up the phone. “The wine will be arriving shortly.” He reported.

“This might be the nicest suite in the city.” She told him. “Plus you have a great view.”

“You should see the view in the bedroom.” He replied, joining her by the windows. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant-”

“Relax. It was hot.” She couldn’t hide her smile. “Very hot.” She pulled him in for a kiss. “Why don’t you show me the view?”

“Is it lame to admit I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again?” He asked.

“It is lame, but it’s cute.” She laughed, kissing him again. Placing his hands on her hips, he walked her backward until her ass hit the back of the sofa. She pulled at his shirt as he grinded against her, pressing her body into the sofa. He pulled his shirt over his head. Lucy kissed his jawline, down his neck, getting a quiet moan in response. She began unbuttoning his jeans when a knock on the door interrupted them.

“Oh shit.” Matt quickly grabbed his shirt from the floor, put it back on, and ran to open the door. As expected, the wine he ordered had arrived. As soon as he closed the door again, Lucy burst out laughing. He looked at her.

“That was my fault. Got too carried away.” She couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. Matt chuckled.

“Should I bring this to the room or-”

“Yeah. Why not?” She shrugged. “Do you have condoms or should we call down to the front desk and have someone send us a box?” She teased.

“Thanks for reminding me about that. Do you know how embarrassing that was?”

“It worked in your favor in the end, didn’t it? Come on. Show me that view you were talking about.”

Lucy stood in front of the windows in the bedroom, wine glass in hand admiring the view.

“The New York City skyline is one of, if not the best skylines in the country, maybe even the world.” Matt joined her.

“Can’t argue with that. Part of the reason I came back.” She replied.

“You’ve ever thought of living anywhere else?” He asked.

“Not after Miami. I’ve got no reason to leave the city again. I have everything I could ever want here.” She explained. “What about you? Ever think about leaving Michigan? Have you ever left besides traveling?”

“I was born in Carson City. Got recruited right out of college. I haven’t had a reason to live anywhere else. But I do like New York. I don’t know if I’d ever move here, but I enjoy visiting.”

“That’s fair. The city isn’t for everyone.” She shrugged. “Especially not someone from a small town.”

“You ever been to Carson City?” He asked.

“Don’t think I’ve been anywhere in Michigan.” She told him.

“Maybe I can show you around sometime.” He proposed. “Can take you out on my boat.”

“You have a boat?”

“Yeah.”

“That is a tempting offer.” She replied, turning towards him. “Do the Wolverines sell chains or is that a custom piece?”

“This?” He held the pendant of his chain. “It was a gift when I first got recruited.”

“From an ex-girlfriend?”

“From my mom, actually.” He replied. “She was so excited when I first joined the team.”

“That’s adorable.” She cautiously held the small golden pendant, admiring the detail. Turning it over, she saw the engraving: Proud of you. It made her smile. “That’s sweet. Are you close with your mom?”

“Yeah. We were before she passed.”

“Sorry to hear that.” She gently dropped the pendant. “I was asking about it because I want to get something like that for my dad.”

“Speaking of your dad-” He put his glass down and opened his suitcase. “You said he was a big fan of the Wolverines, so I got the guys to sign a ball for him.” He pulled out a ball, wrapped in a shirt.

“You’re joking, right?” She asked.

“No. I figured- is it too much?” He asked. Derek’s words echoed in his head.

“What? No! My dad is going to flip. I can’t believe you remembered.” She smiled. “Thank you.”

“You are very welcome. If you or your dad are ever in the Carson City area, let me know and if the season is on, I’ll put some tickets to the side for you.”

“Thanks, Matt. I should get going before Andi puts out an Amber Alert for me.” She joked.

“Andi? Is that your- boyfriend?” He asked. She laughed.

“No. Andi is my roommate and best friend who sometimes worries about me a little too much.” She replied.

“You don’t have to leave so soon. At least help me finish the bottle. You snuck out on me last time.”

“In my defense, I thought it was a one-night stand.” She laughed as she began getting dressed.

“Fair enough. Can I see you again before I leave? Maybe take you out to dinner? Something a bit fancier than pizza?” He asked. She stopped and looked at him.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Look, Matt, I think you’re great. And we have a good time together, but- I’m not looking for anything serious right now. If you thought that’s what this is, then I’m sorry if I led you on.” She told him. “I just want something casual, but if that’s not something you’re into then I respect that.”

“I’m not looking for anything serious either.” He lied.

“‘Something a bit fancier than pizza’ sounds like a date.” She replied.

“Or it can be dinner between friends. I mean assuming we are friends.” He teased.

“That would make us friends with benefits. Is that okay?”

“As long as I get to see you every time I come to New York.” He smiled.

“Glad to know we’re on the same page.” She returned the smile, as she continued getting dressed. “When are you going home?”

“Wednesday.”

“Do you have plans Tuesday night?” She asked. “I can take you to one of my favorite spots in the city.”

“Okay. Sounds good.” He walked her to the door. “Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night? It’s late.”

“Gotta get home. Give Andi all the dirty details.” She laughed. “I’ll be okay. I’ll see you on Tuesday. I’ll text you the details. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. Get home safe.”

#Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds: Beyond Borders #Matt Simmons #Matthew Simmons

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shysoftbebe · 1 year ago

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Tell Them {GraTsu x Reader}

GraTsu x Reader

Maybe they like you too.

~~~

“Y/N!” Natsu calls, before his body collides with yours, nearly sending you tumbling to the ground if not for your quick reflexes. Your arms curl around him, smiling widely as you return his affection despite the blush crawling up your neck as your eyes meet Lucy’s teasing gaze.

You stick your tongue out at her, as Happy hovers next to her chewing on a fish while Ezra and Gray seem busy with their own conversation.

You pull apart after a few minutes, but he keeps an arm around your shoulders tugging you towards his team’s direction.

“Wanna join us for a quest today?” he asks, excitement in his words, as his eyes shine with a familiarity light that comes along with his excitement.

You nod in reply, causing him to whoop with happiness before letting you go and bounding toward Gray and Ezra.

“You like him,” Lucy teases, rolling your eyes you elbow her side, eyes catching Gray as he wraps an arm around Natsu’s waist, diminishing your happy glow. Upon noticing this, Lucy grabs your arm and pulls you to her home, calling to the others that you’ll be right back.

“You need to tell both of them how you feel,” she tells you, as you enter her apartment, you shake your head in denial as you collapse on her sofa a small groan leaving your lips at the mere thought of telling them.

Sighing she runs a hand through her hair, not understanding why you won’t just talk to them when she can see how they look at you, and how you look at them.

Heck, everyone can see it except for the three of you blind idiots.

Lucy decides for now to leave it, grabbing a few things she might need on the quest while you, yourself leave for your apartment to get your own things. You meet up outside, finding Gray, Natsu and Ezra talking with each other over the quest.

Spotting you, Gray jogs to your side, slinging an arm over your shoulders, giving you a grin as he begins to talk about where the quest is.

“It’s in a small town about an hour or two’s ride from here,” Ezra states giving you few details on what you’re supposed to do.

Natsu expression shifts at the thought of traveling, drawing a giggle from you as Gray squeezes your shoulder, skin tingling at his touch.

As you speak with Ezra, you fail to take note of how Natsu and Gray look at you; but Lucy and Happy does sharing a look with each other.

When will you three just talk about how you feel?

A cry of pain escapes your lips as you slam into the base of the tree, body crumpling onto the floor of the forest, pain coursing through your body as your vision grows bleary struggling to focus.

“Fire Dragon Roar!” Natsu shouts, fire consuming the beast, which cries out in response stumbling away from the flames just as Gray attacks from its blindside, with Ezra hovering near by waiting for an opening as Lucy crouches beside you.

“Y/N...” she whispers, brows furrowing with worry as she reaches for you but you shake your head, eyes shutting as your head throbs with pain at the movement.

Breathing softly, you manage to balance yourself on your hands, before pushing yourself onto your legs-

Only to stumble, almost crashing to the ground once more if Loke hadn’t caught you.

“Th-thank yo-you,” you whisper, he only shifts your weight, apologizing as pained breaths leave your lips, holding you bridal-style.

Your eyes find the fight, just as a final cry leaves the beast’s lips, it turns to ash leaving a lighter air behind.

Ezra reequips back to her usual arm, before scolding Gray and telling him to put his clothes on, as Natsu rushes to you.

“Y/N,” he calls, reaching for you, Loke in response steps back moving you out of reach. Natsu gives him a confused yet angered look, as the other two join you.

“She’s in pain Natsu, you cannot touch her right now,” Lucy tells her friend, not wanting him to start fighting with one of her Spirits.

He grits his teeth, stepping away but nods in understanding as you lean against Loke’s chest, the warmth easing the coiling tension in your body.

Your eyes flutter shut, tiredness pulls you under as the real world fades away from you.

Low bickering brings you back to the living world, the light streaming into the room placing you at ease as you look about the familiarity of the infirmary. Looking to the foot of your bed, you find Gray and Natsu exchanging insults while Lucy sits next to you, jumping up to grab a glass of water once noticing you’re awake.

“Y/N,” Natsu croons launching himself at you, surprisingly gentle yet firm as he hugs you while Gray sends you a smile; relief clear in his eyes as he ruffles your hair. You rub his back with a bandaged hand soothingly, just as Lucy returns Gray tugs his lover away from you and into his arms, as Happy collides against your chest sobbing while Lucy hands you the water.

Ezra soon joins with Wendy and Carla in tow, both greeting you before checking your wounds, giving you updates and instructions to rest for a week or so.

The day passes fairly quickly with visits from Gramps and a few guild members before it winds down to just yourself, Gray and Natsu.

“Hey Y/N,” Gray prompts drawing you away from your thoughts, humming softly you meet his eyes with your wide ones.

“Would you like to date us?” he asks in one breath while Natsu’s face turns pink at the question, your jaw drops open in surprise never having excepted this question.

Smiling softly, you take hold of their hands, feeling warmth and affection fluttering in your chest, chasing away the sadness and pain.

“Yes, I’d love to.”

#fairytail #lucy #gray #ezra #fairytailguild #monster #poly #established relationship #yn #reader #injury

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firstdegreefangirl · 2 years ago

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Tim and Lucy + you dont need to pretend with me

“Lucy,” Tim calls after her as everyone parades out of the roll call room. She works her way backward through the crowd and joins Tim at the podium.

“What’s up?”

“I just wanted to check in, see how you’re doing. With … everything.”

Lucy shits her weight between her feet, fingers wrapping anxiously around her gun belt as she dodges the question. “It’s been almost three weeks.”

“I know. And I also know people stop checking in, sometimes before they should. So, how are you doing?”

She takes a long moment to consider what Tim is asking.

How is she doing?

She’s alright, she thinks. Her shoulder aches a little bit, stiff from sleeping differently now that Chris is sharing her bed more nights than not. And she’s tired, waking up every few hours between his nightmares and her own. She doubled down on coffee this morning, to make up for not waking up in time for breakfast, so she’s all jittery.

And to top it all off, Rosalind is still out there.

Still, it could have been so much worse.

“I’m great!” She finally says, plastering on a grin. “Everything’s great. It’s great, Chris is great and we’re great, and it's just …" Lucy feels herself rambling and trails off.

“Great?” Tim supplies, with a smile that quickly fades. “You’ve been through a lot, you know? It’s OK if things are … not great right now.”

His voice is gentle, but he’s not coddling her. That, mixed with his words and the look of understanding on his face, unlocks something buried deep in Lucy’s chest.

She sucks in a deep breath.

“Can we … maybe go talk somewhere quieter?”

Tim leads her to a rarely used meeting room, past booking and interrogation. He closes the door behind them and turns to face her.

“Want to try that again?” Lucy nods. “How are you doing?”

“I’m …" She chickens out. “Fine.”

“Lucy. C’mon. You don’t need to pretend with me.”

“I’m … tired. Like all the time, and I just keep having to deal with more.” She drops to sit sideways in one of the chairs, wrapping her arm along the back. “It’s one thing after another: going undercover, Rosalind, Chris, work … Chris …" She’s not sure why she says his name again.

“Chris?” Tim echoes.

“How are you supposed to break up with someone who almost died because of you?”

“Because of Rosalind,” Tim interjects. “You didn’t do anything to him. She did.”

“Because he’s connected to me.” Tim opens his mouth to argue again, but Lucy keeps going. “And either way, how am I supposed to leave him alone to recover? He can barely open a car of peanut butter.”

“And just because of that you want to …"

“No! I don’t know! Maybe? Not because he’s hurt, I would never. But since we … before Vegas, I’ve been thinking about it? But then we got back and … you know. So know I’m taking care of him, and he thinks we’re something and I … I don’t know. What do you think?”

“I think … if you’re thinking about this, I mean, what’s your plan? Keep stringing him along, letting him think things are fine? That’s not fair to either of you.”

“Yeah …" Lucy sighs. She knows Tim is right, but still. It feels cruel, somehow, to cut him loose so soon after he almost bled out on her sofa. “Don’t people say not to make major life changes right after traumatic events?”

“They do.” Tim nods, sitting down across from her. “But I don’t think that includes things you were thinking about before the trauma happened.”

“Are you saying …" Lucy eyes him warily, trying to keep the butterflies out of her stomach and the knot out of her throat. If he is, if Tim is saying what Lucy has been feeling since that evening they spent together in her living room …

She’s terrified to think about how quickly she’d act on it.

“I’m saying that I can’t tell you what to do. But I’ve stayed in dead-end relationships before, and they’ve never worked themselves out. If you’ve been thinking about it this long and you’re not sure you’re in the right place, maybe that’s your answer.”

Lucy looks at him head-on now, his bright eyes and soft smile. She thinks about how many times he’s dropped everything for her. She owes him everything, and even so, she knows that wouldn’t change her feelings about him.

When she smiles, and he smiles back, she feels calmer than she has in over a month.

“Yeah … maybe it is.”

#anon love #katie answers #katie writes #kw22 #chenford #lucy chen #tim bradford #the rookie #chris sanford

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neufer · 2 years ago

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Things that stuck out to me on my who-knows-what-number-it-is reread of TSS (warning: loooong post)

I’ve decided to do my yearly reread of Lockwood and Co. so here are some parts that stuck out to me during The Screaming Staircase!

1. As mentioned in my last post, the second mention/description of George is “Yes, but George has a nasty, gruesome little mind.” (said by Lockwood)

2. The first of many arguments between Lucy and George: “‘Ooh,’ George said. ‘Feisty.’ ‘That’s right. Step over here, and I’ll show you exactly how feisty I am.’ ‘I might just do that.’ ‘I don’t see you moving.’ ‘Well, it’s a deep sofa. It’s taking me a while to get out of it.’”

3. For some reason this reread really made me love me George even more. A good example is this piece of dialogue between Lockwood and Lucy. “George dislikes hypocrites -you know, people who say nice things to your face and criticize you behind your back. He takes pride in being the reverse. Besides, he’s an excellent agent. He had a job at Fittes once. They value courtesy, secrecy, and discretion there. Know how long he lasted?” “I should think about twenty minutes.” “Six months. That’s how good he is.”

4. When Stroud backtracks and tells us Lucy’s backstory, he ends with a conversation between Lucy and Lockwood a few days after Lucy joined the company. The very last sentence, which is said by Lockwood, is, “There’s no ‘hope’ about it. With our combined talents, what can possibly go wrong?” The next chapter picks up with Lucy and Lockwood after jumping out of a window, having burned down the Hopes’s house. The first sentence of this chapter? “It’s amazing how quickly a fire can spread through an average suburban house,” showing precisely what can go wrong for Lockwood and Co.

5. Lucy’s descriptions are straight up brutal. Example: her first meeting with Inspector Barnes. “His age was uncertain; perhaps he was a lived-in fifty. To me he seemed inexpressibly old, one short step from becoming a Visitor himself. He had a melancholy, drawn expression, as if all light and joy had been surgically removed from his person under local anesthesia, leaving his skin loose and saggy beneath the eyes. These eyes, however, were shrewd and keen.”

6. Another iconic George Moment™: When Annie Ward’s ghost gets free in Lucy’s room and George is just absolutely decked out with spare equipment from his room. “A few moments later, George returned, wearing a gaucho-style shoulder belt bristling with magnesium flares, salt-bombs, and canisters of iron. An empty silver-glass box hung beneath it on a string. He carried a coil of chain, and a long, ornate-handled rapier, and had a flashlight poking nonchalantly from the waistband of his pajamas. His feet were encased in enormous boots.”

7. I forgot how good the scene where Lucy meets Kipps for the first time is. It’s much too long to type out, so I’ll summarize: They’re in the Archives, Kipps makes a cryptic remark about Lockwood’s dead family (he really is just a big asshole in the beginning, isn’t he?), George steps in and roasts Kipps, and Lockwood causes Kipps’s rapier to shoot from his hand and stick in the ceiling. Amazing.

8. It’s often mentioned in reviews, but Stroud’s ability to balance teenage humor and the horrors of the Lockwood and Co. universe is superb. In this specific instance, Lucy just saw Hugo Blake and is convinced he’ll come after them. Lockwood’s reply: “. . .so what that he’s got strange eyes? George’s are pretty odd too, and we don’t hold it against him.” “Thanks for that, I thought they were my best feature.” “They are -that’s the tragedy of it.”

9. Lucy’s so fucking cool. I could just leave it at that, but I won’t. Her Talent and the level of her sensitivity is just so unique, and she’s completely nonchalant about it. It’s really cool to go back and reread this first book and see how she sort of knows she’s special, but won’t fully realize it until later in the series. Also, when she just pulls the necklace out of her shirt, revealing that it wasn’t in fact stolen by Fairfax’s henchman? Iconic. When she releases the ghost of Annie Ward, allowing justice to finally be served? Again, iconic.

10. Stroud is such an incredible author. Evidence: Lockwood regaining consciousness after they destroyed the well in Combe Carey Hall. “Awareness returned. I saw bafflement first, then gradual recognition. ‘Oh. . . Lucy. Lucy. For a moment I thought you were. . . It doesn’t matter.’” This. This. A full freaking book before we get the Jessica reveal and Stroud does this? It hurt me to read this.

11. I’ve talked about George and Lucy, now it’s time for some Anthony Lockwood appreciation. However, I do need to acknowledge that there’s no pedestal we as a fandom could put him on, that’s high enough to ignore what a dumb, 15(ish) year-old boy his is. I love Lockwood, but, forgetting the chains for the Hopes’s house and then agreeing to Fairfax’s job without consulting Lucy and George? So not cool. But sneaking flares into Combe Carey Hall? I was impressed years ago when I first read it and still am now. Knowing that Fairfax was up to something and convincing Barnes to essentially come to their rescue? Genius. Also, I would like to point out this quote, which is said when they’re trying to get out of the secret room with the well. “What do I think? I think that’s twice now we’ve nearly died. I think that we’re very lucky to be alive. I think that I’ve been far too slow on the uptake and have severely underestimated our enemy. It’s been an unforgivable lapse in a leader, and I’m sorry for it. However”-his voice grew harsh; he spoke between clenched teeth-“all that ends now.” I know that as the series goes on, it’s generally accepted that Lockwood is reckless and throws himself into danger for others because of his weak connection to life. However, this passage made me think that his disregard for his own safety might stem from this instance as well

12. Barnes has two really good quotes at the end, let me share them with you now. First he refers to Lucy and George as “these two idiots who follow you around” when talking to Lockwood. Second, “[Lockwood] switched on his fullest, most radiant smile. Barnes winced. ‘Put those teeth away. It’s too early in the morning and I haven’t had my breakfast.’”

13. And finally, I know there’s minimum Locklyle in this book, it’s too early. But, I’ll be damed if this part didn’t make me smile. It’s right at the end, when Lucy goes down to the basement to get more donuts. “Halfway up, I heard Lockwood roaring with laughter in the kitchen. . . Lockwood laughed again. Really laughed, I mean. He’d thrown his head back. I could tell.” Not even a year into her employment and she can tell when he is laughing so hard he throws his head back. *sobs because we got the perfect slow-burn romance*

Anyway, those are my thoughts. Perhaps I’ll do this for each book? I hope I can, it’s nice to have this documented.

#lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #george cubbins #the screaming staircase #jonathan stroud #rambles

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f1united · 3 years ago

Text

Ensemble - Chapter Two: The Girl and The Gift

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Your Arthur Leclercs best friend. So why, after a random night in London, are you falling for his brother?

Chapter One: The Start

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and sex.

Word Count: 5.8k

Note: This chapter begins in London and is marked where it switches to Mykonos. There are then some flashbacks mixed in so just watch out for those. Let me know your thoughts, enjoy!

*****

Chapter Two: The Girl and The Gift

Not long after Pierre had joined your table, Charles emerged from the toilets. Pierre had waved his hands to inform him of his updated location as he sat in the empty seat, unknowingly signing himself up for a night full of girly gossip and drama. The evening was spent reminiscing on childhood memories and sharing stories. It wasn't until Nat checked her phone that you realised how late it was getting.

"We better get going," She announced as she checked her phone. "The last train is in half an hour." You lived just outside of London which meant that most nights out were cut short by trains unless you had booked a hotel. You hummed in agreement as you finished your drink watching as Pierre began to whisper in Lucy's ear. They'd been flirting all night so her next sentence didn't come as much of a surprise.

"I'm going to chill with Pierre for a bit, I'll find my own way home tomorrow" The rest of the girls saw it coming too.

"Are you sure?" Katie asked. "I don't want you ending up in London on your own with no way home." She had a point. London could be quite daunting when it was late and dark, especially if you weren't a local.

"Well why don't you stay too?" Charles nodded his head towards you as he spoke. "That way you could leave together." Not one part of you questioned Charles' intentions as he spoke. He remained the responsible 'Arthur's older brother' that was being sensible and mature, making sure that everyone got home safely.

"If that's alright with you?" Your question was answered with a nod of his head. You all began to grab your things and headed outside, saying your goodbyes, telling them to text you when they were home safe as they encouraged you to do the same. By the time they'd headed for the station, Pierre and Lucy were already nowhere to be seen.

"I'm not sure about you but I'm in no rush to go back to the apartment just yet!" You spoke to Charles as you looked at the night sky above you.

"Where do you want to go in the meantime?"

“Have you ever explored London before?" You answered his question with one of your own. He shook his head. "So you haven't seen all beautiful sites it has to offer." The sarcasm was evident in your voice as you pointed down the alley way you were walking past full of black bins and plastic bags full of rubbish.

"I've only ever been here to celebrate races and I can't say I've seen much other than the inside of some bars and restaurants.”

"Well you're in for a long night Leclerc." Two hours ago Charles wanted nothing more than for him and Pierre to go back to the apartment. The lack of alcohol he'd consumed throughout the night was only adding to the tiredness he'd accumulated over the race weekend. However as you dragged him through the streets of London he realised there was no place he'd rather be.

You'd ridden Boris bikes alongside the River Thames, shown him your favourite restaurant in Covent Garden and taken him through Piccadilly Circus all the way to Oxford Street where closed shops lined the dark streets, pointing out your favourite ones as you cycled past. He never did things like this. As a F1 driver it was difficult for him to go almost anywhere without going unnoticed but tonight not one person had recognised him because for the night he was just a normal person with another normal person having a good time.

After abandoning the Boris bikes at the nearest drop off point you both headed towards the apartment. It belonged to Charles' mother and was often used by you and Arthur whenever he'd come to visit and couldn't stay with you.

"You seem happier than when I last saw you." His comment made you smile. It was all he could think about as you wondered through the dark streets. The last time you'd seen him you'd just broken up with your ex. Your relationship had been on and off for years but you'd finally called it quits for good. It didn't take a genius to see the relationship was making you unhappy, the anxiety, tears and sleepless nights were picked up on by everyone albeit your efforts to hide it. Arthur was the only person who truly knew what was going on and it hurt him to see his best friend in so much pain when she thought she was in love.

"Thank you, I'm in a much better place now. I've had time to focus on myself." You'd completely lost yourself throughout the time you were together, focusing so much on what he'd wanted and expected rather than what made you happy. The situation had increased your maturity and for that reason you were grateful your first heartbreak had come at such a young age. You'd correctly assumed that Arthur had made Charles aware of your sensitiveness to the situation to some extent as he made no further comments.

He had approached Arthur with concern after your last meeting. Despite a fun grand prix weekend you'd been blinking back tears and spent most of the time with a blank expression on your face. He hated it. He could see you trying to compose yourself, when he came to thank you for coming you'd done your best to smile, your voice was laced with excitement, but your eyes were empty, drained of emotion. He was grateful to see it had made its way back.

"Did you know I've never been to Harrods?" His random fact was a relief as he quickly changed the subject, allowing your mind to be brought back to the present rather than the dark times from the past.

"Even I've been to Harrods Charles. We should go tomorrow, you'd have a field day in the clothes section." As a part time student most of your spare money went into savings, a fund you'd created for your planned travels when you were done with your studies. It wasn't very often that you brought yourself nice things so despite your multiple trips to Harrods, you'd never actually purchased anything. You could see him deliberating your suggestion in his head.

"You can wear sunglasses and a hat with your mask, just don't wear a bright red Ferrari top and I'm sure we'll be able to keep ourselves to ourselves."

"Don't you have work tomorrow?" His question brought you back to reality slightly.

"I'll call in sick?" you offered. It suddenly occurred to you that this was the longest time you and Charles had ever been alone together and the idea of leaving wasn't something that you wanted to think about just yet.

Charles opened the apartment door with caution, neither of you wanted to interrupt your friend’s spontaneous night, nor hear any of the antics they were getting up to. You frowned at each other as you stepped into the entrance corridor. There were no faint voices, no mumbling or laughs, just the hum of the city that echoed through the slightly open window.

“Maybe they didn’t come back here,” your judgement became increasingly more likely as you followed Charles towards the kitchen and stood around the island.

“I’ll send him a text.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped away before placing it on the marble countertop. It lit up with Pierre's reply not long after he'd set it down. “They went to some hotel, apparently he’s dropping her home in a second.”

“He’s not the type to bring girls back to his home turf then,” you took the bag off your shoulder and placed in on the counter, grabbing a hair tie from inside and gathering your locks into a low ponytail. “Smart move.” Charles shrugged his shoulders at your observation.

He’d never really thought about it before, but he was the same. The few casual hook ups that he’d had over the years had never been in places he spent a lot of time like his house in Monaco, or his favourite holiday home in Mykonos, and never this apartment. Sure, he’d slept with people in those cities, but never in his space. You were right though; it was easier to forget about the crime if you never returned to the scene.

"Do you have anything I can change into?"

“There’s a top on the end of my bed.” You thanked him as you made your way towards his room. “I’ll grab some of my things so I can crash on the sofa once you’ve changed.” You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him as you stood in the doorway.

“I’m not kicking an f1 driver out of their own bed Charles, especially not post race weekend.” You crossed your arms as you lent against the door frame. “I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the sofa.” He argued.

“It’s one night Charles, I really don’t mind.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the sofa.” He repeated.

“Well then it looks like we’re sharing the bed.” Your words not only surprised you, but also Charles. Neither of you were sure where this increased confidence had come from, but you didn’t want it to become awkward, so you tried to justify your statement. “Me and Arthur used to share a bed all the time!”

The look on his face as your eyes met with his across the room was one you’d so desperately been seeking without realising it. His head cocked, eyebrows raised and small smirk tugging its way onto his lips provided reassurance, giving you the confidence to confirm that this relationship was very different to your one with Arthur. You already knew it, you had felt it every time you’d looked at him since you were about 16, but this was the first time you could say with certainty that it was reciprocated.

Charles was dying to climb into bed with you. To wrap his arms around you and stay like it all night. He didn’t care about the fact that your hair would be in his face or that his arm would most likely be dead within the first half an hour. He just wanted you there with him, so he could learn things about you that he didn’t already know and fall asleep with the scent of your faded perfume beneath his nose. He suggested that he’d sleep on the sofa because he knew that wasn’t what you were implying.

“I’ll stay on my side,” you offered. “Promise.”

That’s what he was afraid of. Charles was a respectful man, he wouldn’t cross boundaries without permission, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could go without your touch. The thought of your body lying so tantalisingly close to his while dressed in nothing but your underwear and one of his shirts was driving him crazy.

“I’m a very good sleeper, you won’t even know I’m there.”

You couldn’t stop listing reasons for Charles to join you. He wished you would stop; his head was already full of so many.

“Well go and get comfy and I’ll join you in a minute,” In that moment he made the decision to give in knowing that if this was the only chance he got to lay in bed with you he'd take the opportunity, whether your bodies were intertwined or not. “Do you need a drink or anything?”

“A water would be great!” You smiled as you turned around and headed to the bedroom. Charles spent the next few minutes alone in the kitchen trying to convince himself that this was a bad idea. That it was wrong. You were his brother’s best friend and he shouldn't be this nervous or excited to lay next to you, but no matter how hard he tried to dislike the situation he couldn’t because it just felt right.

By the time he joined you in bed you’d already made yourself incredibly comfortable. He chuckled at the site of you tangled in the duvet before climbing in next to you. You laid facing each other and remained that way as you chatted about memories from the past. Childhood holidays and his earliest racing days to you latest life plans and hopes for the future. That's how you drifted to sleep, listening to his voice was more comforting than you'd like to admit. When you awoke in the morning you were unsure what terrified you more, the feeling of one of you completely reducing the few centimetres of space left between you or never knowing what Charles’ touch felt like.

*****

Maybe that’s why you were so unimpressed when Charles and Pierre joined the several of you seated around the long table on the patio with two unknown girls. The number of cocktails you’d consumed weren’t providing you with a great amount of rationality but then again it was difficult to justify being annoyed when you had no reason to be in the soberest of situations. The only person to blame was yourself, you’d had the chance to experience a night with Charles and a combination of your stubbornness, maturity and (let’s face it) fear of what could happen had meant that you’d missed out.

It was only as she threw her head back at one of his comments that it hit you, you were jealous. It was a feeling you hadn’t felt in years. Ever since your last relationship you had lacked almost every kind of emotion. You’d dated people since but that connection was never really there which is why you were full of confusion at the situation presenting itself to you. The feelings felt foreign to your body and you weren’t sure how to deal with them, so you did the one think that you were too young to do back then. Get drunk and try to forget about them for a night.

"Are you listening? Drink up, we're leaving in a second!" Arthurs voice provided a distraction from your thoughts whilst encouraging them. You tilted your head back as you finished the remainder of your champagne, your arm was already reaching out for the nearest bottle to see if you could sneak in a quick refill. You didn’t even like champagne but after having run out of cocktails about an hour ago you didn’t really have much choice. In any other situation you would’ve declined and waited until you were at the club but you weren’t really in the mood to sober up right now. You got up to follow everyone to the taxis, deciding that the bottle had too much in to be left at the table to waste, but not enough in that you couldn't finish it before you reached you destination. Putting the bottle to your lips this time, you took another gulp.

He noticed. He noticed the vast amount of alcohol you had consumed thus far. The unbothered façade you'd displayed during dinner was picked up by him the second he’d glanced in your direction. Your eyes often met his across rooms, at events, in the paddock, even at family dinners and it was always followed by a shared smile, but tonight you hadn't even looked at him and he couldn't stand it. Although he couldn’t be certain, he had a good idea what the cause was. Guilt was slowly consuming his thoughts. He shouldn’t have felt guilty, there was no real reason to, yet he did.

He knew if he had come alone you would've had a couple of drinks with dinner, just enough to prepare yourself for the club afterwards, allowing the sweaty people and sticky floor to become slightly bearable. He also knew that you weren't a huge drinker and that the lack of food you had consumed at dinner would only worsen the matter which was evident as he watched you fall into a taxi with Arthur and Carla as he climbed into a separate one with Pierre and, what they appeared to be to everyone else, their ‘dates’.

The club was busy, everyone excited to be back on the dance floor after its absence over the past year or two. Although it would've been nice to spend some more time with him, you were thankful that the crowds had engulfed you so you'd lose sight of Charles and her. You'd found your way to the middle of the dance floor and you remained there for hours losing track of time and somehow your friends too.

Unbeknown to you, Charles had lost his 'date' at the first chance he had. He'd met her on a boat during the day with Pierre and when his best friend had invited her best friend for dinner he felt bad for not doing the same. He was sitting at the bar with Pierre who'd picked up on the amount of attention he was paying you as you danced along with random strangers. The Frenchman questioned what he was doing when he noticed Charles tighten his jaw. Charles nodded his head in your direction and the pair watched as a man approached you.

The guy in front of you was only offering to buy you a drink but you knew you were way over your limit. You'd politely declined, naively assuming that he'd disappear back into the sea of faces but that wasn't the case. Your refusal clearly not accepted as he insisted. grabbing onto your arm in an attempt to pull you in the direction of the bar. Yanking your arm out of his grip you instantly managed to sober up as you came to the realisation you were going to have to fight this battle alone.

Charles knew you were a big girl, that you could handle yourself in almost any situation thrown your way, but as the guy reached out to touch you he could've sworn he moved quicker than his Ferrari. His presence shocked you as you flinched slightly at the unfamiliar grip on your waist.

"It's just me ma belle." Charles whispered calmly into your ear, placing a feather light kiss onto your cheek. Relief instantly washed over your body. You wished you could focus on the conversation that Charles was now having with the strange man in front of you but you couldn't. The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of your skin heating beneath Charles' fingertips and the tingling sensation that lingered where he'd planted the kiss. He'd never touched you before, the brief hugs being the most contact you'd ever shared, and now he was standing in a club with his hand around your waist as he fended off a random guy who'd taken an interest in you. "I think we should head home." When Charles spoke it felt as though each word was coated in sex as it left his lips. He hadn't meant it in a sexy way, you knew that. He wanted to take you home so you were safe. However his intense grip on your waist and his stubble lightly grazing your cheek when he leaned in to speak to you was putting thoughts into your mind that you knew shouldn't be there.

You looked up at him, your eyes locking for the first time that night. Your eyes always showed a lot of emotion. Your body language was often hard to read but you always made eye contact when you spoke. He frequently used it to determine what mood you were in but this time he was met with one he'd never seen before. Despite them having a drunken glaze, your dilated pupils held a look of lust. He could've sworn you were mentally undressing him. You weren't. Instead you were thinking of how much you wanted him to undress you.

"I think that's a good idea." He could hear the smirk in your voice over the sound of the music as you let your lips gently brush his ear lobe while you spoke. He shut his eyes tightly and took a deep breath in an attempt to pull himself together. You were disappointed when his hand left your side but satisfied when it quickly intertwined itself with yours. His skin was softer than you were expecting, the rough patches slowly disappearing over the summer break. Your hands remained that way as you walked through the streets of Mykonos. Neither of you spoke, you just remained in a comfortable silence. As the villa came into view Charles was basically marching down the street, his strides increasing as your little legs tried to keep up. He dropped your hand when he reached the door, searching his pockets for the key to unlock it.

The villa was colder than you were expecting, a shiver ran down your spine as the air con hit you. You headed towards the kitchen and grabbed your sweater off one of the bar stools, sliding it on over your outfit.

“So you’d let Carla drive your car huh?” his face instantly broke out in a smile as you relieved some of the tension between you both. “You know that’s not true.” Charles followed you to the kitchen and watched as you perched yourself on the edge of the counter. He poured a glass of water and took a sip before handing it to you which you gratefully accepted.

“You’d let your date drive it instead?” He rolled his eyes as he chuckled at your sarcasm, hoping that you’d forgotten about the girl he’d sat next to during dinner as quickly as he had. “How many girls get a turn before me?” Although he didn't let it show, your question had offended him slightly. Despite his popularity with women he was never one to disrespect them, especially not you. He took a step closer to you, standing directly in front of your legs that were pressed firmly together.

“You’re the only one I want to see in that seat mon Cherie,” That was one nickname that he’d never called you, yet it rolled off his tongue so effortlessly. He leaned against your legs and you slowly parted them so he could stand in between, closing the distance between you both. “I’d let you drive it again in a heartbeat.” Your eyes were fluttering between his eyes and lips, your stare only breaking when he leaned in to speak in your ear just like he’d done in the club. He placed a kiss on your cheekbone and slowly worked his way up to your ear.

“You looked very sexy behind the wheel of my car.” You locked your hands with his while he continued to speak, closing your eyes in a desperate attempt to try and calm your heart rate down. You wanted to say something back, engage more in the conversation, but for the first time in a long time you were at a loss for words. You loved driving, you'd often join the boys go karting growing up and learned to drive as soon as you could, so when Charles asked if you wanted to drive his Ferrari back to your home after your Harrods shopping trip you were more than excited. It was a nice change from the train ride you were expecting.

He'd watched your eyes light up when you realised he was being serious. It was the closest you'd ever been to driving something even remotely similar to an f1 car despite it being different in so many ways. Your smile was infectious as you put your foot down on the motorway, leaving London behind. You'd never even driven an automatic car so this was a completely new experience. He'd taught you how to use the paddles to manually change gears if you wanted to and how to shift through its different modes as you drove around. The only disappointing part of the journey was reaching your destination, your trip home considerably quicker than you would've wanted. After spending the whole time focused on going fast and not crashing, you'd selfishly not noticed how Charles was feeling throughout the drive.

He'd been trying to keep his eyes trained on the road in front of him but couldn't help steal a glance in your direction every now and then. He was always surrounded by fast cars, something he realised after seeing you sat in his driving seat he'd begun to take for granted. He felt overwhelmed with pride, he was the one who was making you this happy. He felt privileged seeing you this free as your hair flew around in the wind while you rested a hand out the side of the car, trying to resist the force of the air pushing it back. It was his turn to be selfish as he realised that he always wanted to keep that moment for himself. He didn't want anyone else to make you feel like this, give you this experience. He wanted to be the one to make you smile.

“Don’t go quiet now mon Cherie.” That nickname. Again. “I think we still need to discuss what happened in the shower.” You instantly snapped back into reality at the mention of the shower. His hand fell from yours and toyed with the bracelet on your wrist. The one that you nervously played with in situations like these. The one that he’d gifted you last year. The one with his name etched into it.

The morning that you'd woke up in Charles' bed you were alone. An empty bed was something you'd become accustomed to over the past couple of years but in this instance it made you awaken quicker. The note left on his pillow stopped you from worrying, he was out on a run.

You respected his commitment to his career and took the opportunity to go for a shower. The warm water felt refreshing against your skin, goose bumps slowly appearing across your skin at the sudden change in temperature. Rubbing Charles shower gel into your skin you closed eyes and lent your head against the tiled shower wall. It wasn't clear at what point you'd become so aroused, but the steam from the shower and the smell of Charles covering you definitely had something to do with it. You allowed your hands to roam your body, his name unexpectedly falling from your mouth as you brushed past your breasts. The careless use of his name had caused your eyes to widen and your hand to clamp over your mouth. It had left you lips so naturally but felt inappropriate to say aloud.

It wasn't until a few days later that you realised he'd heard. He almost hadn’t. If he’d unlocked the apartment a mere three seconds later your words wouldn’t have reached his ears. His run had been sweaty and he was still out of breath but his panting soon stopped. His eyes widened as he heard his name leave your lips and he froze. He didn’t want to announce his presence, he knew he wasn’t supposed to hear it and didn’t want you to feel embarrassed that he had. He didn’t know what to do. He felt as though he was invading your privacy but knew that if he shut the door you’d hear it close and know he was there. So instead he stuck his foot between the door and the doorframe to keep it slightly open as he waited for the sound of the shower to finish running. He tried to focus on something else, anything else, but he failed. All he could think about was you, in his shower, without him and how badly he wanted to join you, just so he could make his name fall from your mouth the way it just did over and over again.

You thought you'd gotten away with it. He'd entered the apartment just as you were stepping out the bathroom and he'd acted as cool as ever. The weekend was slowly becoming a distant memory that you were trying hard not to dwell on, hating that you were missing his presence so much already. It wasn't until you were at work the following week that it became apparent your secret crush was no longer a secret. You were in the office early, earlier than everyone else. That wasn’t unusual, you liked to be in early as it often meant you could leave earlier too. What was unusual was the box placed neatly on your desk.

Although the small parcel was addressed to you, you opened it with hesitation. A small gasp left your lips as your unwrapping revealed a red box, the golden engraving of the word ‘Cartier’ on top. Confused, you gently opened to box revealing a bracelet.

You placed it on your desk as you searched for a note. Despite it being awfully obvious who it was from, you wanted some kind of confirmation or, better yet, a reason as to why someone had put this into your possession. You'd spotted it in Harrods with Charles. You hadn't mentioned it, just spent a few minutes mindlessly staring at its beauty. There was no point even considering buying it for yourself, the price tag was close to your yearly salary. Eventually you found the note.

'I've heard you like to moan it'

You picked up the bracelet once more, analysing it as you did so. It was so discreet, discreet enough that if the note wasn’t a big enough hint you might never have realised. His name. Etched into the inside of the band in the same font as the word ‘Cartier'. Any other name and he wouldn’t have been able to get away with it. No one had picked up on its personalisation in the past year. It had remained your little secret.

You gulped loudly, unsure of what to say next. The dull lighting hid your cheeks as they flushed red with embarrassment, just like they'd done when you'd read his note. Luckily it was situations like these you considered your stubbornness a strength. "All I could thing about was how much I wanted you to touch me Charles." With your lips dangerously close to Charles' ear you'd somehow managed to complete your sentence with confidence. The conviction in your voice had satisfied Charles although it was obvious that he hadn't expected it as he pulled his head back slightly to look you in the eyes. It was the first time you'd seen them so dark out of his crash helmet. They didn't have the same teasing smile paired with them as they did only a few moments ago. For a brief moment your heart dropped. What if he was just teasing you and you'd taken it too far?

"Say something." Your voice was barely audible despite the eerie silence that had settled in the kitchen as Charles picked up on your nervousness. His expression softened but he remained silent, placing his forehead against yours and gently brushing your noses. You both very quickly realised there was no longer the need for words. The last thing either of you wanted to do right now was have a conversation about what was going on because quite honestly neither of you were sure. All you knew was that as soon as the space between your lips closed, there was no going back. You were craving each other's touch and it was as though the kiss you were yet to share would be the seal of approval you both needed to explore each other in a way you hadn't before.

You'd had enough of the teasing, enough of the wondering and what ifs, enough of wasting time without knowing how his lips felt against yours. You moved your head up slightly brushing your lips with his before releasing one of your hands from his grasp and placing it on the back of his head, pulling it down slightly. As soon as your lips pressed against his you became overwhelmed with emotions. You relaxed into it, it felt so right. His hands began to explore your body, one placed on your thigh and the other tracing lines up and down your back, sitting on the counter top had worked in your favour as you wrapped your legs around his waist. It wasn't long before his tongue found yours as you let your hands snake beneath his shirt feeling his back and arms tense beneath you as he lifted you up from the side and placed you on the dining table which was at a slighter lower level.

His mouth left yours and you let out a small groan of frustration, he smiled at the sound as you realised he was only doing it to strip you of the sweater you'd not long ago put on, allowing him to rid you of it, not caring how cold it was anymore. In between the kisses he was placing down your neck you pulled his top over his head. Your eyes were trained to his shoulders as you admired him, only shutting when he re-joined your lips.

The sound of a key turning the lock at the front door caught Charles' attention. There was a high chance he'd consumed less alcohol than you tonight which is why he giggled slightly when you chose to ignore the sound and bring him back in for another kiss.

“WE’RE HOME” Arthur voice echoed round the villa. The sound of his brothers voice was enough for you to release him from your grip.

“Shhhhhhhhhhh, it’s 3am people will be sleeping.” Carla tried to whisper but the tiled walls carried the sound throughout the villa. You didn’t know if anyone else was home, you hadn’t checked and to be honest you hadn’t even thought about it. The only thing on your mind was Charles.

“Y/N and I are in the kitchen,” Charles called back. His eyes never left yours as he grabbed his shirt you'd thrown across the kitchen and redressed himself, not until Arthur stumbled through the door way knocking into chairs and making them squeal as the legs glided across the floor. You both watched as he regained balance and muttered a drunken apology before sitting himself on the floor.

"Good night Arthur?" you laughed slightly at the sight of him on the floor, he'd never been the most elegant drunk but at least he was entertaining.

"Great night." He confirmed as he laid himself down, a laugh leaving Carla's lips as she stared at the state of him. If someone had spoken to you a couple of hours ago you would've probably had a different opinion but as it turned out, you were starting to agree with him.

TAGLIST

@imthebadguyyy @abysshaven @phatyak

#f1 imagine #f1 masterlist #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #pierre gasly #lando norris #george russell #lewis hamilton #valteri bottas #carlos sainz

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my-shields-are-down · 2 years ago

Note

Chenford + you told me to move on

---------

This prompt has been rattling around in my brain for the past month or so - and is morphing into another multi-chapter story. Here’s a glimpse into that world. More info to follow soon).

========

"You told me to move on... so I did. Goodbye Tim."

Eleven words. Only one had more than four letters, and that one destroyed him. Shattered his heart, tore up his reserve, smashed his sense of self and ruined him forever. He might date other people, but he would never love or marry or have kids - not if he couldn’t do that with her. He hadn't realized he gave her all of his heart, until she moved away and took it with him. Fourteen months later, he is now a walking coping mechanism. He has to remind himself to breathe - but not too deeply, because that will feed the ache where his heart used to be. Every human task has its own alarm in his phone now -ding! time to eat. ding! time to feed the dog. ding! time to run. ding! and on and on and on..the days blend together, there is no longer any joy, his life is empty and he is sleepwalking through what remains of it. The cop part he can do with his eyes closed -but the rest of it, he feels no passion for it and wonders if he ever will again.

He had only meant moving on with her career, not completely moving on from him, from them. His big reason for not pursuing her with everything within him, was that he was her boss -and his innate professionalism would never let him cross that line completely. He thought the more skills she had under her belt would get her promoted faster than waiting for the next round of tests which were only a few months away. He didn’t want to wait that long - back then he ached to be with her. He’d had a plan to steal her away from Chris and marry her. He wanted a life with her. He wanted everything with her. Instead he lost her.

He not only lost the love of his life, but his best friend. His person. His Lucy. No one understood him like she did. No one saw all the ugliness he shared with her and still found him worthy. He tried reaching out immediately after she left, but she never responded. She was just gone.

Angela had walked up to him one night after shift, put her hand on his arm, and said simply, “You need to stop. You told her to move on. Please let her.”

Lucy kept in touch with most people in LA - just not him. He hears bits of stories, but people stop talking about her when he enters a room, joins a group, walks up on a conversation.

From what he can cobble together from Tamara and his sister and his nieces and nephews, Lucy is thriving at the FBI - her language skills, psychology degree, and UC school training have her rapidly gaining exposure and experience within the organization. She made an immediate impact and was rewarded with a promotion, a brand new hybrid job created just for her. She’s dating a fellow agent who she now outranks.

Tamara moved in with Tim so he could protect her and give her a soft place to land. But she takes more care of him, than he does of her. Tamara is the only one he lets near enough to console him in any kind of way when she comes home and finds him sobbing uncontrollably on the sofa yet again.

Last night she had hugged him so tight and whispered in his ear, “Rumor has it Lucy will be in town for Grey’s Anniversary party next weekend, wanna be my date?”

#askandreatotellastory #chenford #angst #tim bradford #lucy chen #what if lucy moved on for good #future a03 story coming #i hate watching angst but I love writing it #things that are awesome #valhalla torment

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fallenfurther · 2 years ago

Text

Homecoming - Graduation

This is a post episode fic so can be read as a stand alone, along with the next chapter, as my response to the end of the series. I hope you enjoy my take.

Post Series Three Episode 26 The Long Reach Part 2

Chapters 1 , 2 , 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 , 9 and 10.

**************

His mother was buzzing when she picked him up, though Jeff couldn’t blame her. Of all the boys she had been in Alan's life the most. He'd been so little when they had lost Lucy that he had no memories of her. When Jeff realised he wasn't coping, he'd called Mum in and she'd taken on that maternal role. She'd been there for many of Alan's first, so his high school graduation was a big milestone. It also meant the last of his boys was becoming an adult. It was bittersweet. Jeff would never hold them back, but he'd missed so much he wished he could keep them young that little bit longer. The flight was spent being informed of the plan.

Jeff was deposited in the engineering room, where he stepped up onto the raised walkway. He'd dressed as instructed, in a smart white shirt and it wasn't long until his eldest boys joined him. John was first, having come down in the space elevator and changed. He'd bounded up the steps effortlessly and given Jeff a hug.

"Ready for this, Dad?"

"Definitely. I always enjoyed watching you boys graduate."

Scott and Virgil entered next, followed by Kayo, Brains and MAX, then Parker, Lady Penelope and Gordon. The Mechanic stood off to the side. Finally, Mum entered with Alan. It was a proud moment seeing his youngest son in International Rescue blue. The boy had worked hard to earn the right to wear it. His mother joined him as Alan received hugs from his brothers. It felt surreal, the scene below, knowing he was actually part of this day. Pride bubbled up higher within Jeff with every stair Alan ascended. Seeing Lucy's graduation hat, the one she'd stolen and never returned, on her youngest son's head made it feel like she was there with them. She would be so proud of her boys. Jeff handed over the certificate which would inform the world of how bright his son was. Jeff held back as long as he could, which wasn't long, before pulling Alan into a hug. It all went smoothly.

"Congratulations son. We should talk about college."

"College? I don't even have my own car yet."

"You have a rocket."

"Oh yeah, that's true."

There were smiles all round.

Beep beep beep beep

"Sorry everyone, we have a situation."

The whole assembly sprung into action. The boys and Kayo ran for the lift and were gone in seconds. Alan has run off holding his hat and scroll. Jeff was never going to keep up with them. Instead, Mum passed him his cane and they accompanied Parker and Penelope to catch the lift when it came back down. When they entered the living room, scans of the situation were being projected above the table. John was the only one left in the room, though Lucy's graduation had been thrown on the sofa.

"Fancy taking the lead on this one until I'm on Thunderbird Five? Alan's going to give me a lift."

"FAB."

"Parker, I believe we could make ourselves useful in the kitchen. I might have a few contacts who could advise on this situation."

"H'right m' lady."

Jeff headed over to the desk as John disappeared. Taking up his seat felt just like the old days. He also knew how much faith was being put in him in allowing him to be involved, even just temporarily. With his mother to his left, Jeff answered the call.

"This is Jeff Tracy of International Rescue. How may we be of assistance."

The relief in the voice on the other end was quickly replaced by panic as the situation was relayed.

"International Rescue, boy am I glad to hear from you. It's the suspension bridge, it was signed off to be able to support the weight of the Saturn Probe, but it appears to be failing. The men in the cabin are trapped, the cab is currently hanging from the bridge, caught by one of the cables, but it won't last long. The probe is pulling it down slowly. It'll be in the water in no time. The drivers weren't able to get out in time. They're trapped…."

"Stay calm, International Rescue is on the way. Thunderbird One will be with you in a matter of minutes."

"Thank you, oh thank you!"

Jeff kept his tone even as he asked for all the facts. He didn't require all the information, but it was a way of keeping them calm. With the basics collected, he excused himself and muted the microphone, keeping the connection open.

"Base to Thunderbird One."

"Yes father?"

"Two men are trapped in the cabin of the truck. It's currently hanging from the bridge but it won't be long until it is pulled into the water. Hopefully you'll be able to catch it before it goes under. The probe is sinking to the bottom of the river but that is not our priority. As per regulations, no one was in it while it was being transported."

"Yes, father. I'll survey the situation and see if I can grab the cabin. I may need Thunderbird Four to cut it free."

"Thunderbird Two and Four are fifteen minutes behind you Scott."

"FAB."

"It's a shame to lose the probe like this," Brains announced to the room, "thankfully half the scientific equipment was to be installed at the launch site, however years of preparation has just been lost. The project managers sh-should have checked the bridge's stability better."

"That may be so Brains, but right now two lives are in danger."

"Sorry to interrupt, but I have a distress call that requires your attention."

"Send it through, EOS."

The AI blinked off the screen before Jeff and was replaced with the snippets of speech.

"...I'm trapped. Help me…"

"This is Jeff Tracy of International Rescue. Where are you trapped?"

"J-J-Jeff Tracy? The astronaut?" A young girl sobbed.

"Yes, the astronaut. How may I help you?"

"I'm in the Saturn probe. My Dad was one of the engineers who built it and I snuck onboard this morning. I don't know what happened. There was a big clunk. I hit the wall and bumped my head. I'm scared."

A loud sniffle echoed over the comm.

"What's your name?"

"Maisie."

"Right, Maisie. International Rescue is already on the way. We're going to get you out as soon as we can. I need you to be brave for me now. I'm going to mute my microphone so I can let them know where you are and discuss how to rescue you. I'll still be able to hear you though. I'll still be here."

"O-okay."

Muting the microphone, but still hearing the child's terrified sobs, Jeff activated the comm to Thunderbirds One and Two.

"Base to Thunderbirds One and Two."

"Yes father." Scott and Virgil answered simultaneously.

"There's a change of plan. There's a child trapped within the probe itself."

Brains was currently standing by the table inspecting the scans that floated about it. The fallen truck bed was to the left though Brains had shifted the view so the probe was now taking centre stage.

"Scott," the engineer piped in, "the probe should be water tight so the child has time, however the cabin of the truck won't be. Please focus on them until Thunderbird Two arrives."

"FAB, Brains."

There was a pause over the comm line and all Jeff could do was wait. Brains continued to study the scans, muttering to himself as his fingers moved about. Numbers appeared to produce a series of calculations which slowly hoovered beside the scan. MAX beeped occasionally in response to the engineer, the robot standing besides his creator, moving now and again to keep out of the man's way. Jeff smiled. MAX was very much an improvement on Braman, who had been technologically advanced but also rather annoying.

"Thunderbird One to base."

"I'm listening, Scott."

"I'm scanning the area as we speak. The images should be available in a moment. The cabin is still suspended, though barely. I'm going to attach a line in a moment."

"Thank you, son."

Just as promised, a more detailed scan popped up before Jeff. Thunderbird Five's scanners were incredible but nothing could beat an on-site scan. The outline of Thunderbird One swung around on the screen, her main hatch opening beneath her. A second later there was a dart of movement as something left the craft. A small red circle appeared briefly above the water before switching to green. The slender Thunderbird's thrusters glowed as it rose straight up.

"I made contact with the cabin but the impact knocked it free of the bridge. I'm struggling to keep the cabin above water. I'm going to need Gordon to cut the cabin free, and soon."

"Thunderbird Two is almost with you, Scott."

John's voice rang out over the comm line confirming he'd got up to Thunderbird Five. The space elevator was the quickest way from Earth to the satellite, but Thunderbird Three was the safest.

"Thunderbird Four is ready to deploy."

"Thunderbird Two is approaching from the south. Preparing to drop the module."

The holographic image of the Thunderbird Two glided up the river until it was less than half a kilometre away. She paused, still for barely a second, before the module dropped from her belly. After much wobbling, she shot the module with the grapples ready for retrieval. It also had the added bonus of stopping the module from drifting downstream. Jeff's heart flickered as the door splashed into the water and the small shape of Thunderbird Four dived out into the flowing river. With Thunderbird Four gone, the mechanism activated and closed the door allowing Virgil to retrieve the module.

"I'm approaching the cabin now, Scott."

The scans beneath the river became instantly clearer as the submarine closed in. Her sonar and scanners were perfectly designed for water and brought fresh clarity to the display. Unlike Thunderbird One, the surface and waves had no effect on her equipment. The little submarine closed in on the cabin, which was barely being kept above the surface. Jeff was certain the occupants would be wet as he tapped on the projection and zoomed in on the rescue. This new perspective meant his heart was racing in anticipation. As he watched his sons work he was there with them, in a way he never had been before. Adrenaline rushed through his veins as the little submarine paused in front of the truck.

"Scott, give me a little slack, I'm about to cut the cab."

"FAB, Gordon."

The diagram wasn't detailed enough to show exactly what Gordon was doing, but beside him a large grasping claw descended down and slowly reached for the probe. As Jeff's eyes observed the silent display, his mind drifted to the sounds it would make as it closed around the probe. A dull echoing thud, just like the small asteroids and debris that used to hit Alfie, or his cabin home in the Oort cloud. It could be a frightening sound if one was not prepared for it. His fingers moved instantly, touching the communications icon and tapping the one for the girl. Damn it! He'd slipped on that one, left a small child on her own and scared.

"...see it. I'm going to try to close the hatch."

"That's it." John's deep calm voice filled the room and relief flooded Jeff's veins instantly. The records stated John often stayed on the line with frightened people. It was something International Rescue was known for, the calming reassuring voice who answered the phone. "It might be a little stiff but it'll help keep you safe. The probe is designed to withstand the vacuum of space so can handle a little water pressure."

"And Thunderbird Two is here?"

"Not only Thunderbird Two, but Thunderbird One is up there too."

"Really?"

"Really," Jeff could hear the smile in his son's voice as he kept Maisie distracted from her situation. The awe of being close to a Thunderbird couldn't be beaten. "What do you think of Thunderbird Four?"

There was a squeal of metal over the comm as Maisie presumably sectioned herself off. It was a clever idea from John, a way to reduce the risk of her drowning if there was a breach. A quick glance at his settings confirmed his microphone was still turned off.

"Thunderbird Four is cool, but I don't like yellow."

John's laugh was short but hearty.

"I would be careful to not let that slip to Gordon. He loves how bright his Thunderbird is."

"I won't. It's not like I'm going to meet him any time soon."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that one. Thunderbird Four is right outside rescuing the drivers."

Another gasp came from the child as the general comm line activated.

"Scott, I'm almost through the rod. Prepare for detachment in five…four...three...two…one!"

The cabin detached from the main body and started to slowly rise towards the surface. That was two of three rescued as Thunderbird One flew higher with the cabin hanging below. Jeff knew that the cabin would be on dry land in a few minutes and there was already an ambulance crew on standby to whisk the occupants away for a check up. Thunderbird Four was already heading towards the probe, the scan updating as Gordon guided the craft down to it.

"You mean I have THREE Thunderbirds out saving me?"

Jeff could almost picture how flabbergasted the child was. Despite the situation, she was no longer as panicky as she had been and John was pretty sure she was physically okay.

"Technically we have required all five Thunderbirds in this rescue. I was on Earth when the call came through. Thunderbird Three was launched to bring me up here so I can have access to all my equipment."

A sideways blonde head popped up next to John's, the International Rescue blue of his uniform just visible in the picture.

"Hi Maisie, I'm Alan and I fly Thunderbird Three."

The youngest Tracy waved as a giggle came in response.

"Hi Alan."

John exaggerated an eye roll and pushed his brother out of shot, bringing a smile to Jeff's face. It was simple brotherly antics which anyone could recognise, but it was played up to keep the child's mind away from her situation.

"Hey!"

Alan's complaint was heard from behind John, however his middle son's eyes had become harder, a clear sign that the fun was over.

"Okay Maisie. Everyone's ready now. Thunderbird Two and Four are going to start lifting the probe out of the water with you in it. There's going to be a lot of rocking so I need you to keep as low as possible so you don't hit your head again. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'm going to be here the whole time so you won't be alone. If you feel or see water at any point, let me know straight away and we'll get you out of there pronto."

"What happens if water comes in?"

"If water starts coming in Thunderbird Four will cut you out, however it's safer to leave you inside and keep the probe whole."

"Okay."

There was a small squeal from the girl when the probe first shifted. The hologram of the situation showed Thunderbird Four clamped to the lower side of the probe with two taut cables attached to the claw. Jeff switched comm lines, leaving John to his job.

"Virgil, the probe is tilting to the left."

"Got it."

Jeff tapped the hologram of each Thunderbird to bring up its current status. Thunderbird Two's engines were nowhere near their limit but he could see the uneven pull of each. Thunderbird Four's thrusters were going hard with the right left one trying to correct the probe's tilt. The metres beside the engines shifted as Virgil adjusted his craft's position. Thunderbird Four's thrusters responded, evening out and helping to guide the probe to the surface. It was a smooth operation, one he was sure his boys had done countless times. Thunderbird Four's equipment continued to scan the area about it, detecting every little movement. Jeff's eyes scoured the readings, hoping the construction was good enough to withstand the pressure. It wasn't long until the probe broke the surface of the water and Thunderbird Four released its clamp. Thunderbird Two's engines took over completely, straining at the sheer weight of it. It might be light enough to launch into space, but it was still heavy.

"Need a hand Virgil?"

Thunderbird One glided into view and Scott performed a fancy little twist so his craft was beside his brother's.

"Wouldn't say no, don't want to put the girl out of action."

"Gordon wouldn't appreciate having to find alternative transport home."

Laughter passed over the line as the grapple of Thunderbird One shot out of her belly and attached to the end of the probe.

"Hey! There's water all the way from here to the island, so I don't need you two."

"The fastest route from your current location to Tracy Island would take three days, four hours and twenty three minutes, assuming you take appropriate breaks."

Even Jeff chuckled at EOS's intrusion. The AI certainly knew when to pick her moment.

"See, easily doable."

"You better get going then," Scott sniggered, "I'm sure Grandma will have a special victory meal prepared when you get home."

Jeff held his tongue. He didn't mind the banter, as long as it didn't distract from the rescue, and this one still wasn't over. Scott and Virgil were still carrying the probe containing a very brave little girl. The stakes were still high if something went wrong. Thankfully, they were approaching a large grassy area and they both quietened down as they focused on lowering the probe to the ground. Both Thunderbirds detached their grapples, though only Thunderbird One landed straight away. Virgil headed off to go pick up his brother.

"John, I need a clear scan of the probe. Is any of it breached? What's the safest way in?"

Scott was already a little holographic blue triangle hovering about the probe. Jeff's read of all the rescue files meant he was well aware of his eldest son's love of the jetpack. It seemed even as an adult, Scott preferred not to have his feet on the ground. The toddler who climbed and jumped off everything was still in there.

"My scans suggest there was no breach, so it should be safe to get Maisie out the way she went in. There's a hatch about a third the way down."

The blue triangle located the hatch and disappeared inside the probe. The little red blip that indicated Maisie was very quickly engulfed by the blue triangle.

"I have Maisie. We're making our way out now."

"FAB, Scott."

The blue triangle moved back the way it'd come and soon it was back in the air, abet only a few feet above the ground. It headed straight towards the red triangles which represent the local services, in particular the ambulance. The little blue triangle stayed in the ambulance as they did the initial assessment of the child's injuries. Before long Thunderbird Two landed beside her sister and two more triangles popped out. The yellow and green triangles hurried over to the ambulance and the comm line activated.

"So you're the rascal that doesn't like yellow?"

The words were dripping in merriment in a way that only Gordon could do. The man had been an energetic bundle of joy and laughter as a child, and you knew if it stopped either something was wrong, or he was about to be naughty. a subdued giggle came from the child before Scott filled his brothers in on the situation.

"A small bump on her head that's giving her a little headache and a few scrapes but nothing too serious. They are happy for us to take her to the emergency room if we want."

"How do you want to get to the hospital, Maisie?" Virgil's calm voice spoke.

"By Thunderbird!"

"Now, seeing as you're still sitting here, I'm guessing you don't want to go in Thunderbird One."

"She wants to travel in Thunderbird Four, despite its colour."

"Noooo!" Maisie squealed, "I want to sit in Thunderbird Two!"

"Your wish is my command."

"Show off." Scott muttered.

Jeff was sure he was missing things by not being able to see. Gestures and expressions, even if small, could make the difference. Though know Virgil, he was sure he'd just give a humble bow to the child. The red marker was soon between the yellow and green triangles being led toward Thunderbird Two. Scott's triangle headed away towards the police car to give a handover and get the details of where to send the report. Some departments can be extremely fussy, though a copy of every rescue report was always sent to the GDF. The reports they sent out were thinner than the reports they kept themselves. The GDF only needed to know the basics, and although International Rescue was more open with them now, there were still secrets they needed to keep. Scott had provided Jeff with the information that they were happy to share which he pulled up.

The rescue was now over and if there was one thing Jeff could do to help his boys, it was to help fill out the reports. EOS already had a file created, with the transcript of the comm line recorded and written on a timeline. A second timeline has the major event times, such as when Thunderbird One arrives, which was useful as Jeff always had to check flight data to work out the rough timings when he was an operative. This was where Jeff started, fleshing out the points and giving more details to them based on his observations. The boys would read through and add more later. His fingers slipped into the rhythm of typing, even if he was slower than he used to be.

Jeff jolted as a mug of coffee was placed beside him. His mother smiled down at him, love overflowing from her blue eyes as her hand squeezed Jeff's shoulder. His mother had been almost inseparable from his side since he'd returned to Earth. Jeff couldn't blame her, he wanted to do the same with his boys, but there were still times when the woman would fill up with love and wonder. It was a miracle he was home alive.

"You did great."

"Thanks Mum, for everything."

His mother's lip quivered, before she wrapped her arms around him. Jeff lent his head against her shoulder, well aware of the slight frailness in the woman's body. She was active and healthy, but ageing couldn't be stopped. Jeff was lucky to be able to spend more time with her.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #homecoming #jeff tracy #rescue #post episode fic #long reach part two #graduation #grandma tracy #alan tracy #john tracy #scott tracy #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #thunderbirds #day of disaster

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maraschinomerry · 2 years ago

Note

simple ask; just a george trying to hide a crush on gn!reader?

Matching Mates

Pairings: George Karim x gn!reader, Locklyle

Summary: Lockwood & Co are invited to a Valentines ball at Fittes, forcing George to admit who he wants to take as his date.

Content: brief kissing, couple-centric Valentines plot

A/N: I'm not sure if this is exactly what you were going for but I thought it was such a cute idea! Part 2 here

Word count: 1.6k

George stared at the crisp white and pink invitation with something close to disdain.

"You have got to be joking."

The fuchsia pink envelope dropped into the hallway of 35 Portland Row earlier that morning, to be immediately snatched up by Lucy. She promptly bounded into the kitchen.

"It's here!"

Her glee was unmatched by the remaining members of the agency - Lockwood was focused on trying and failing not to burn his toast, George was scribbling something on the Thinking Cloth and you had been in the library, following with confusion when you heard the excitement.

"What's here? We're not expecting any parcels, are we?" you frowned.

Lucy gawked.

"It's the invitation for the annual Fittes ball," Lockwood supplied helpfully. Of course. You'd heard tales of the grandiose event, but hadn't joined the team until after last year's 'Fittes at 50'. There was always some sort of theme - one year it had been aquatic where people went dressed as stylised sea creatures or in rippling blues, another was a masquerade where any guest without a mask had been refused entry. This was only Lockwood & Co's second time as invitees.

"Drum roll, please!" Lucy brandished the envelope. You and Lockwood began hammering the table top, grinning at each other. George rolled his eyes. Lucy tore open the seal and threw the enclosed invitation onto the table with a flourish. Everyone gathered in close to read, George peering over your shoulder and Lucy over Lockwood's.

Penelope Fittes cordially invites

Lockwood & Co

To the 51st Annual Fittes Ball

'Love-Locked' (Lucy winced. "Tasteful," George muttered sarcastically.)

A celebration of romance on February 14th.

We request that all guests attend as part of a couple and have accounted for one +1 each if required for partners outside of your agency.

Dress code: matching mates.

RSVP

Lucy was overflowing with anticipation, already dialling up the number to RSVP. Lockwood was watching her fondly. You were trying to wrap your head around the theme. George was fuming.

"You have got to be joking."

—

It had been nearly a week since the invitation arrived, and George was still not happy. Lucy and Lockwood watched him from the comfort of the sofa as he paced up and down the living room.

"It's such a stupid, reductive theme. Why can't I just go with (name)? I mean, you're going with Lucy." He gestured flippantly at Lockwood.

The other boy laughed. "We are a couple, remember? Besides, you can go with them if you want. Just ask them out."

A blush spread across George's cheeks.

"Or," Lucy gave him a coy smirk, "you could always just pretend to be dating."

The blush reached George's ears.

"No- I'm not- I can't- that's not the point!" he stammered. His friends exchanged a knowing glance.

"Fine, we're still going as a team anyway," Lockwood replied calmly. "Just find yourself another date so you can actually be there with us and (name). How about Arif's new delivery person? They seem nice."

"But I don't want to go with them," George whined.

"And you do want to go with (name)."

George opened his mouth to protest, realised he'd been had, and flopped into the armchair in defeat. "It's not that simple."

Lucy watched him carefully. Everyone knew he liked you, the two of you had clicked the moment you joined the agency, but up until now it had seemed just as friends. As he sat there, cheeks burning, trying desperately to explain why he couldn't simply ask you to be his date to a Valentine's ball, she was hit by what should have been blindingly obvious.

"Oh my god, you have a crush on them!"

"Of course I have a crush on them," George blurted, laced with his usual level of snark. That was more like it. "Have you seen them?" He suddenly seemed to realise what he'd admitted, gaze dropping to his rapidly fidgeting hands. "I want to go with them, really I do, but we have such a good dynamic and I don't want to mess that up, either between us or the whole team."

His friends softened. It was so unlike George to be open with his feelings like this, and they knew how much you meant to him.

"Tell you what," Lucy began, "I have a few friends in the city. How about I find you a date - I promise it'll be someone you'll like - and I'll even put together your matching outfit? It'll be a surprise though, that way you don't have to be overthinking it and can focus on the fact that you get to be there with the rest of us." George pondered for a moment before nodding firmly. Lockwood stood, patting him on the shoulder, and left.

Lucy grinned. "If you'll excuse me, I have some shopping to do."

—

The day of the ball arrived, and with it came a brown paper parcel outside your bedroom door. The wrapping was messy, held together with tape in too many places and a clumsy twine bow. You recognised Lucy's handiwork immediately.

She had told you she was organising dates for the ball, and although you were still excited for the event you had to admit you were a little disappointed. It was no surprise that she and Lockwood were attending together, but a part of you had secretly hoped you and George would too. You'd fallen so hard for the resident researcher, with his cheeky grins and fluffy curls, his passion for research and his amazing cooking. The two of you spent most of your free time together, exploring the city or chatting away into the night over tea, biscuits and leftover pizza. It had really seemed like maybe he was interested in you, but then when he'd had the perfect opportunity to ask you to be his date and said nothing, you started to doubt yourself.

You forced your thoughts away from George and back to the parcel, which you had now brought into your room. A slip of folded paper was tucked under the twine.

Hey (name)!

Hope you're excited for tonight, and hope you like the outfit. Your date will be downstairs at 7.

Lucy x

Eagerly, you pulled the paper apart.

—

George was pacing again. Lucy had said his date would be arriving at 7, and he'd made sure to get ready early to meet them at the door. Give him time to adjust to whoever they were.

He had to admit, Lucy had done a good job with the outfits. She and Lockwood were every bit the couple - she was busy swishing round the kitchen in an emerald green and black shot silk gown, while he watched from the doorway in a matching green tuxedo with black collar and tie. George was curious what his date would be wearing to match his blood red suit and shimmering gold tie. He didn't often dress formally, never really, but as he looked in the mirror he quite liked what he saw. Maybe you would too, if you ever got down here. Late as ever. Probably making sure you looked amazing. Wait George, stop. You're about to go on a date with someone else. Cut it out.

The clock in the hallway chimed the hour, and Lucy and Lockwood emerged to join him. Any minute now, there'd be the knock at the door.

A noise sounded on the stairs, and George tried to hide his excitement as he turned to see what you were wearing.

His jaw dropped, and he was convinced he'd stopped breathing.

You gracefully descended the staircase in the sleekest outfit he'd ever seen, deep red with gold accents so bright they made your eyes sparkle. Your hair was neatly styled away from your face so he could see every inch of your nervous smile and the crinkles of joy in the corners of your eyes.

You looked to Lucy first, silently thanking her for such a gorgeous outfit. Next was Lockwood, face plastered with an encouraging and yet worryingly mischievous grin. Finally, your gaze came to rest on George. George, who was very clearly dressed in your matching colours.

You faltered.

George snapped back to reality as you stumbled on the bottom step, reaching out instinctively to catch you with one hand in yours and the other around your waist. Your breath hitched, and in your shock you barely registered the way you leant into his embrace.

"Wow, you really fell for him, huh?" Lucy snorted, earning an elbow in her side from Lockwood.

George's eyes met yours, face so near you could see the hope shimmering behind his glasses. You bit your lip.

"I really did," you smiled, stomach doing backflips as George smiled back and tugged you even closer.

"Well I hate to rush things, but we do have a ball to get to," Lockwood interjected playfully. "George, I believe there's a question you ought to ask, shall we see you in the cab?"

He and Lucy threw you both a backwards glance as they eased out the front door, Lockwood's accompanied by a wink and Lucy's an enthusiastic thumbs up.

George cleared his throat, finally releasing your waist but immediately taking your other hand and facing you.

"(Name, last name), would you do me the honour of being my date? For the ball, and in general, if that's okay with you."

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek, giggling at the way it knocked his glasses off balance. He let go of your hand to adjust them, and you took the opportunity to do it yourself, hand trailing the blush on his cheek.

"George Karim, I would be honoured."

He pulled you in, placing a soft sweet kiss on your lips, and pulled you to the door and the taxi that awaited.

#lockwood & co #george karim x reader #lockwood & co x reader #locklyle #lockwood & co fanfic #george karim #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #gn!reader

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forabeatofadrum · 3 years ago

Text

Good morning @martsonmars. Thank you for the early tag. Welcome to the madness.

Cause oh shit waddup it’s been a while, but it’s time for another WIP Wednesday Hospital. If you missed the other two here and here and you’re wondering what the fuck is going on: the WIP hospital ward is where all my WIPs are waiting for me. I intend to actually finish them one day (aka discharge them). Some WIPs have been in this long-stay hospital ward for years. Although a lot of today’s 10 patients recently joined! You can visit all of them, or only a few. I bolded the fandoms/characters for quick browsing. I once again recommend others to do the same, because it’s fun to look back at WIPs that haven’t had attention in a while.

I know a lot of western countries got rid of the Covid measurements for some fucking reason, but here, please still mask up, wash your hands, and since we’re still living in these unprecedented times, keep some distance. Leave your names on the visitors’ list:

@quizasvivamos @blurglesmurfklaine @coffeegleek @esperantoauthor @redheadgleek @urban-sith @mostlymaudlin @captain-aralias @dragoneggo @otherworldsivelivedin @bookish-bogwitch @caramelcoffeeaddict @thnxforknowingme @sillyunicorn @ivelovedhimthroughworse @wellbelesbian @cutestkilla @urban-sith @excalisbury @facewithoutheart @takitalks @bazzybelle (hi) @tea-brigade (hi) and other possible visitors.

Patient no. 1 has been getting some care. It’s Ebb and Flow, the Klaine fic for the 3-2-1 Prompt Bang. It’s been a challenging one to care for, but we’re finally getting somewhere.

Maybe it’s a good thing that the OTHER JOB OFFER didn’t work out, because Blaine realises that he likes playing for The Street. Nothing can ruin his good mood, not even the sight of Mr. 21 and some of the wardrobe crew.

Blaine does stop when he sees that Mr. 21 and his colleagues are holding Nintendo Switches. He didn’t expect Mr. 21 to play video games. Then again, he didn’t expect Mr. 21 to be capable of having fun. This is actually a great idea for two-show days. Blaine should take his console with him to work as well.

Mr. 21 looks up from his Switch and his face falls.

Right, of course, Nintendo Switch or not, Mr. 21 still hates the sight of Blaine.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’ll be here for two more months,” Blaine says shortly.

Mr. 21’s mouth falls open and Blaine almost laughs. Is Mr. 21 really that shocked and upset about the news? It feels weirdly satisfying. Blaine walks away with a grin on his face.

Someone who’s familiar with the industry, please give me a possible other job offer. The website of NYU doesn’t list actual career possibilities, just “in the field of music” or whatever. Like, thanks a lot for nothing!

Patient no. 2 is for the @co-wipadoption fest. It’s called Call Me Maybe and it’s about Penny and Agatha friendship.

I change into something comfortable, order Thai, and I snuggle with Lucy on my sofa. I have my phone in my hand to check the time. It’s eight o’clock in the evening, which means it’s four o’clock at night in England. (I know, I have the London time zone standard in my Clock app.)

I don’t want to call Penelope back, but I told her I would, and I really don’t want her to be the one to call first.

So I dial her number, hoping she’s awake so that I can put an end to this promise. If she’s not, then she will see that I called. Maybe that’s good enough and I actually hope she won’t pick up.

Of course she does.

Patient no. 3 is a funny one. It’s an Our Flag Means Death fic. Why is it a funny one? Because I haven’t watched this show yet.

“Ed!”

Edward slowly opens his eyes. Everything is foggy. How long has been asleep?

“Ed!” he hears again. Edward sits up and Stede is running towards him with a huge smile on his face.

“... what?” Edward says and yawns.

“Finally, I found you! Sorry to keep you waiting. I called out your name several times, but seems like you were asleep. But no worries, I spent all my extra time coming up with brilliant names. What about Jodie Bottom?”

“Jolly - bottom?”

“Jodie!”

Patient no. 4 is another fucking Snowbaz fic. This idea just came to me. It’s a canon divergence future fic. After the events of Carry On, Simon just disappears. Years later, Baz and Agatha are a power couple, but they’re unhappily married (you know, the queer thing) and Baz has an affair with Simon, who resurfaced from fuck knows where. The entire fic will be written through gossip newspaper entries. Have a snippet of the prologue.

Where Has Our Chosen One Gone?

Almost a year since the end of the war, Simon Snow is still nowhere to be found. The question that remains is: does he want to be found?

NAME AUTHOR | 4 December 2016

It has been a year since the Humdrum got defeated by Simon Snow, and yet questions about that day remain. On December 26th 2015, the Chosen One, two of his friends (Penelope Bunce and Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch), the Mage (David Cadwallader) and Ebeneza Petty were all present when the Humdrum finally disappeared.

The Mage and Petty perished and the Chosen One, Grimm-Pitch and Bunce were held in custody by the Coven. The Chosen One was last seen at the Bunce Residence in Hounslow, where he had to sit out his house arrest and eventual trial, on December 29th 2015. No one knows how he disappeared and where he has gone. Grimm-Pitch and the Bunce family had no idea. The Coven used the regulated spell I want the truth and nothing but the truth to make sure.

The inhabitants of the World of Mages have since then been wondering why the Chosen One left. What does he have to hide? What really happened at the White Chapel?

If someone has a suggestion for the author’s name, lemme know. I might make an OC, or use an existing character. Or both. I think multiple people will write for the Magickal Record’s gossip page.

Patient no. 5 is a Sarah Jane Adventures one. I’ve been talking about writing my own spin-off since 2017 about Luke’s gay adventures at Oxford. One day, I will post it.

“I wanted to have a break from the constant stress at Oxford,” Luke sighs, “So of course, when I go home, I walk in on you four restraining a Weevil descendant.”

Rani is still pushing the Weevil descendant into a plastic bag. Clyde is holding the bag. His mum is holding a weapon, ready to shoot if it breaks free. Sky is still busy reading Mr. Smith’s data on Weevils and Torchwood’s encounters with Weevils.

Just an ordinary day at 13 Bannerman Road.

The next 2 patients have formed some sort of duo, since they’re all about Simon getting adopted. Patient no. 6 is Fiona adopting Simon. It won’t have romantic Snowbaz, though, since they’re cousins in this fic. Simpard, maybe? Surprise, this snippet is Natasha POV.

“You have to talk me out of an not-well-thought decision!”

I sigh. My sister hardly phones and when she does it’s usually so that I could bail her out of something. Fiona’s been back in England for a week and she’s already caused quite a stir. I love my sister, but I can’t wait for her to go back to China to finish her apprenticeship.

“What did you do, Fiona? Or actually, what do you want to do?”

I hope she isn’t trying out spells that recreate the feeling of being high. Again. The last time she did, she wanted to test them on me, but I said no.

“Okay, fuck, so you know I’m visiting an old friend in Wales, right? Well, fucking hell, we passed this Normal orphanage and Tasha, I kid you not, I felt magic coming from that orphanage.”

“You did?”

“So I checked it out to see if a staff member had magic, but Merlin’s tits, no! It was a baby. And that little baby had a fuckton of magic, Tasha. You wouldn’t believe it!”

I frown. Now she has my attention. A magickal baby in an orphanage? That can’t be right. Magic is too precious to surrender to Normalcy.

“That’s indeed weird, Fi, but what are you doing to do about it?” I ask.

What she says next astounds me.

Patient no. 7 is about the Bunces adopting Simon. It’s Mitali POV for this snippet. At first, Mitali still believes that Lucy is alive so she starts looking for her. Of course she finds Simon instead.

Every time I visit the Salisburys, the candle is burning brightly. I know it does. I know this means that Lucy should be alive and I am happy that it gives Lady Ruth, Lord Andrew and Jamie a source of comfort, but I can’t believe it also gives them reason to not get off their asses and search for Lucy.

I have brought up the idea a couple of times, but I always get beaten down by a “But the candle!” response. I don’t give a rat’s ass about that candle. I want my friend back.

Lucy used to write.

Lucy said she had a child.

I am already so happy to hear that she’s ran away from Davy’s grip and that it pisses Davy off (If Lord Andrew won’t duel Davy, I will!), but why am I the only one who sees that we need to be proactive, instead of waiting for a possible solution?

Luckily, Martin agrees with me. Sort of. Mostly. He agrees with the family that if Lucy doesn’t want to be found, we should respect that, but he also knows that I cannot wait any longer. We spend days working out a perfect tracking spell. I will find Lucy Salisbury, even if I have to travel through the world.

This isn’t an actual duo, though. There’s a third member of this club, but since I haven’t written anything about Simon getting adopted by Normals yet, it’s not a patient.

Patient no. 8 is your first returning patient. It’s Hold on to that feeling, the Glee/CO crossover. I put it on the backburner for now, but the fic is still in the hospital ward! For the ones unaware, Baz has replaced Jeremiah as Blaine’s season 2 crush. Blaz OTP 4evah!

Okay, Blaine needs to pull himself together. He must make sure that he’s not making excuses for himself to give himself hope. But can you blame Blaine? A stray hair has fallen on Baz’s face and Baz puts it behind his ear. Blaine imagines him doing that. He lets out a happy sigh.

“Seriously?” Simon rolls his eyes, “Don’t gag after Baz when Kurt’s right there. Literally. He’s standing next to Baz.”

Blaine’s head jerks toward Simon.

“Kurt?” he laughs, “No, we’re just friends.”

“Sure,” Simon says and he winks. Blaine wants to protest some more, but no words come out of his mouth and Simon leaves.

Patient no. 9 is another returning patient. It’s probably my oldest Snowbaz WIP (which isn’t saying much, it’s from begin 2021). Simon died in the White Chapel. Baz lives his immortal life, living for the moments that he gets to see Simon, which happen every 20 years when the Veil has lifted. Here is part of Simon’s first Visit:

The Veil has lifted again. It’s weird to think that I’ve lived twenty years without Snow. I wonder if he’ll Visit me. I am not expecting my mother, since I have avenged her death, but I wonder what will keep Snow in the realm of living.

I get my answer the second day of the Veil being lifted.

I’m sitting in my office, in my small cottage, when I hear an exasperated: “Damn, Baz, you live like this?”

And we end this tour with something no one asked for, namely a Legend of Zelda fic. I played A Lonk to the Ponk (A Link to the Past) and I’m currently playing Lonk’s Awonkadonk DX (Link’s Awakening DX), but I already know how that game ends. Patient no. 10 is Zelda reacting to Link coming back from his trip to Koholint island.

“I’m here, Link,” Zelda puts her hand on his.

“Marin?” he asks.

Zelda quickly looks around the room. Link’s uncle, Sahasrahla and the soldier don’t seem to recognise the name.

“No, Link, it’s me. Zelda.”

“Marin, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” Link cries out and his grip on Zelda’s arm tightens. It hurts, but Zelda bites through it. Link’s clearly distressed about something.

“Zelda!” Zelda uses her free hand to point towards her, “Who- Who’s Marin, Link?”

That’s it for today. And these are all the WIPs that I have written, because a Klaine story with dog bakery owner!Blaine and dog party planner!Kurt is sitting in the waiting room. I wanna use the words from the Klaine Spring Fling for that, but I haven’t had the time to check them out. An autistic Jack Zimmermann fic is also waiting to be admitted. And a story where I just play around with my Glee OCs in Dutch too. (Man, I’m really exhausting this hospital metaphor.)

Whether you read all of this (wow!), or whether you only read some of it, I hope you enjoyed!

#also i spent too much time on making that special banner #and it doesn't even look that good #anyway most of this is co fics am i surprised? no #to the people i'm tagging for the first time i'm sorry this is your introduction to my madness #wip wednesday #tagged in #YES I ADMIT I ALREADY HAD THIS DRAFTED CAUSE IT'S A LOT

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missymurphy1985 · 3 years ago

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The Consolidation - Part Two (Cillian Murphy X OC!Fem!Reader)

Warning - angst / smut (masturbation)

Masterlist

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton @jardinsecos @bitchwhytho @gypsy-girl-08 @queenofkings1212

Landing at the airport near Prague, Cillian meandered his way through the crowds to his waiting taxi to take him to the location. He kept his sunglasses on, his scarf tight to his face, his earphones in - he didn't want to be seen or recognised by anyone who might know Mila. He could only hope nothing in the Czech media reached her about him filming here - and if it did, she kept away.

Arriving at the studio an hour later, Jamie was outside with a coffee waiting for him.

"You okay man?" He asked, handing him the cup and giving him a hug. They'd met a few times prior to them travelling over, a close bond already forming between the pair. Cillian had told him about Mila after a few beers the week before, and how nervous he was about being potentially so close to her.

"I'm seeing her everywhere man. Any girl I see who has long dark hair, my heart jumps and I'm convinced it's here. Fucking stupid, I don't even know she's here for sure, it was all just rumours."

"I get it. Come on, they're waiting for us in there," he stubbed out his cigarette and the two of them headed in to go over the schedule.

Later that night, alone in his hotel room, his mind was cast back to the night he met Mila. That chance meeting that changed his life completely. He had spent five years single following his amicable divorce from Kate - they shared 8 year old twin daughters, Lila and Lucy, and the two of them realised after being together for ten years that although in many ways they were soulmates, they weren't lovers. He regularly had dinner with Lucy and the girls, Mila even joined them, and Kate's new husband, Matt, had become a good friend.

A weird set up, one many of his other friends who had gone through divorces wished they had with their ex partners.

And it was Kate he called to talk. He trusted her more than anyone else, and he knew she'd tell him the truth no matter what. She settled down on the sofa after he'd said goodnight to the twins and sighed.

"Cill, are you sure you're not just feeling it because you're in her hometown?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"What are you not telling me?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're hiding something. Spill."

"Fuck sake, why do you always do that?"

"Because I know you better than anyone else. Don't change the subject."

"What if she was telling the truth? About her ex, stalking her.. the photos being fake?"

"How would you ever find out though?"

"I could look her up? I'm here aren't I, she can't be far away?"

"Whether she did or didn't cheat on you, she'll say the same thing."

"Maybe."

"Don't do anything for now. Focus on the movie, and put her to the back of your mind."

He thanked her, told her to kiss the girls for him and hung up. Flicking through the photos he had stored on his phone, he sighed when he remembered not only did he upgrade his phone recently, he deleted all of her pictures anyway.

He couldn't erase her. Couldn't forget her. It's like she'd been carved into his memory permanently. Closing his eyes and laying back against the pillows on his hotel bed, he saw her. He saw the image of her on the day they met. Long, flowing, dark hair, legs for miles... The dress she was wearing fitted her perfectly, showing off her stunning curves.

Then the image of that night... Not normally one for taking a girl home so soon, but he did it anyway.

Flashback

"Fuck.... Cillian there, right there..."

Within ten minutes of walking through his front door, he'd hitched her dress up, pulled her underwear to one side, and he was inside her. Pressing her body up against the wall of his living room, thrusting up into her like a piston, his hips rocking back and forth so hard the thuds against the wall were making the large oak cabinet next to them shake.

"So fucking tight Mila, Jesus... You feel so good," his lips on her neck, nibbling the skin between heavy breaths, his hands under her ass holding her in place as he rutted into her like a man possessed.

Her hands tangled into his hair, her back arched as best it could against the wall as she came over him, crying out Czech words he couldn't understand but they sounded like music to his ears.

He followed quickly after, spilling his warm load deep inside her with a loud, satisfied groan, her walls clenching, milking him dry.

She didn't leave his house for three days, and they barely left each other alone other than to sleep and eat.

Present Day

He glanced down and found his hand already around his cock under his shorts, sliding over the thick length slowly. He paused, shaking his head, trying to push the images away, but his needy cock twitched in his hand, desperate for its release.

He swore under his breath, and continued to pump his shaft. Stroking his thumb over the tip, the precum lubricating him enough to make him shudder at the intensity of it. Closing his eyes again, the image now of her bent over a table in his dressing room while he was filming Peaky Season 3. He was pounding into her from behind, leaning over her back with a hand over her mouth to silence her moans.

Grabbing his balls with his left hand, rolling them around his fingers like she used to do. His right hand pumped his shaft faster, harder. Biting his lip to stop himself from moaning too loudly, he could feel his orgasm building up quickly. His balls tightening and shaft throbbing beneath his fingers.

"Fuck me Cillian, harder baby, that's it..."

"Oh fuck... Shit.. mm..." The sudden release of cum over his hand and abdomen took him by surprise. The intensity of the orgasm even more so. The volume of his moans louder than he planned, he was suddenly grateful the room next door was vacant.

Cleaning himself up with the tissues on his bedside table, he groaned, sinking under the sheets.

Get her out of your head, Cill. She's a liar and a cheat. And you've moved on!

Rolling his eyes, he knocked the lamp off and closed his eyes. Praying he didn't dream of her.

Again.

#cillian murphy #cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian fanfic #cillian x smut #cillian murphy x smut

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onlydreamofmysoul · 4 years ago

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Wanna Be Kissed (Wolfstar)

Okay! So I’ve decided to start bringing some of my fics from Ao3 over here, mostly because I think it makes it a lil easier for people to find! Here’s the first one anyways! (Side note - any remus/sirius transferred will be wolfstar, not coops)

Sirius Black has never kissed a girl. In fact, Sirius Black has never kissed anyone, ever.

It’s not that the opportunity hadn’t presented itself, because Merlin, it had. Sirius was infamous in Hogwarts, the brooding Black boy, the first to not be sorted into Slytherin. The boy who ran away from home. The leather jacket wearing, wild haired, grey eyed mystery man.

Apparently girls were into that, if Sirius’s friends were to be trusted.

“What about Lucy Lancaster?” Peter whispered as the Marauders sat curled up in a corner, their corner, of the Gryffindor common room.

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows, looking across the room to the blonde girl in question. “The fourth year?”

Peter nodded, “Yeah, I mean, she’s only one year younger than us and she’s really pretty and smart.” He gushed.

Sirius looked over at his friend. “I think she sounds more like your kind of girl Wormy.” He said, standing up and moving to sit closer to the fire, grabbing his book off the coffee table as he went. He curled up on the cushy red sofa, but had barely opened the book to the latest page when James Potter himself flopped down next to him.

“I know there’s someone you fancy.”

Sirius didn’t look up from his book. “Do you now?” He didn’t need to look at James to know his friend was flushing a little red.

“Okay well, I don’t know.” He admitted. “But I do suspect.”

Sirius met his eyes, amused. “There’s a fair bit of a difference between knowing and suspecting Prongs. For example, I know that you’re one hundred percent head-over-heels in love with Lily Evans, but I only suspect that you were the one who put itching powder in Lucius Malfoy’s quidditch robes.”

“It wasn’t me.” James grumbled and continued when Sirius looked at him disbelievingly. “Really it wasn’t. That’s not my style… anymore.”

Sirius laughed, patting him on the shoulder. “Yeah I know, Evans wouldn’t approve.”

“Yeah but also I just think we’re a bit too mature for stuff like itching powder when our time could be much more productively dedicated to tasks such as perfecting the map.”

Both boys sighed longingly. The map, their pride and joy. It wasn’t quite perfect yet - they still had a few passages to fill in, but it was getting pretty close.

James shifted in his seat to face Sirius properly, and Sirius mirrored his movements.

“In all seriousness though Pads, you know you can talk to me, right?”

Sirius smiled at his friend in a way that he could only pray was reassuring and nodded. “Of course I know James. I promise if there was anything to know, I would tell you.”

James nodded and stood up. “Good. Okay, I’ll uh, leave you to your reading.”

James retreated back to the others and Sirius watched him go, watched him sit down next to Remus. Watched as Remus offered him a chocolate frog.

Sirius hadn’t been lying to James, unless you counted a lie of omission. There really was nothing to tell - nothing had happened per se. Nothing had happened… recently. Because Sirius Black had been in love with Remus Lupin for a long time.

Remus-motherfucking-Lupin. The bane of Sirius’s existence. The love of Sirius’s life. He had known for years. Known that the love he felt for James and Peter was very, very different to the love he felt for Remus. He didn’t imagine James kissing him. He didn’t take a deep breath whenever Peter hugged him, trying to memorise his scent. So yeah, Sirius has never kissed anyone, simply because it wouldn’t be fair. Not to anyone. Not when Sirius’s heart was no longer his own to give away.

“Pads, we’re playing exploding snap, do you wanna join?” Remus called from where they were all laughing and Sirius sighed, already standing up. He’d never been able to say no to his tawny haired friend.

“Deal me in.”

****

“Fuck!”

Sirius’s head whipped up at the sound of Remus cursing. “Moons?” He called, swinging his legs off the side of his bed and drawing back his curtains, “Are you okay?”

Remus sat on his own bed, a dripping mug in his hand. “Yeah sorry,” he grumbled. “I’m just a twat, I spilled my tea all over myself.”

Sirius but his lip laughing even as he grabbed his wand and spelled away the puddle on the floor. Remus caught the back of his t-shirt and pulled it off over his head in one swift movement that took Sirius’s breath away.

“I cast a cleaning charm.” Sirius stuttered uselessly, his eyes focused on Remus’s lightly tanned skin, the faint whisper of shining scars that moved as Remus stood up.

“I know.” Remus shrugged and Sirius just gazed at those powerful shoulders. “But I still feel it, you know? I just need a new shirt.”

Sirius nodded helplessly as Remus walked to the trunk at the end of his bed and pulled out another shirt. Sirius thanked Merlin that the other boy was faced away from him because there was no way he could disguise his gawking at the dips of Remus’s shoulder blades, the curved run of his spine. Fuck, Sirius would give anything to trace his fingers over that soft skin.

Remus tugged the shirt over his head and crawled back onto his bed leisurely. Sirius’s heart rate was anything but. Everyone assumed that Remus was super scrawny, and they had been right, at least at first. When Remus had arrived at Hogwarts, that’s exactly what he had been - a stick thin little boy with big caramel eyes. But a wonderful combination of a solid three meals a day, a growth spurt and having to stay fit in order to help him recover from his monthly adventures had resulted in Remus Lupin looking like he starred in wet dreams.

(Never mind the fact that he starred in all of Sirius’s dreams).

“G’night guys.” Peter called from behind his curtains, the rest of the Marauders chorused a sleepy response and once again, the dorm room was silent, unlike Sirius’s brain. No, his traitorous thoughts just kept thinking about what it would be like to make Remus shout ‘fuck’ again in a non-tea related incident.

(They were some pretty good thoughts).

****

“Hey Sirius.”

Sirius looked up from his breakfast to see Anna O’ Connell sliding onto the bench next to him.

“Hi?”

“There’s a trip to Hogsmeade today.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Sirius couldn’t quite decipher the look on Anna’s face at his response.

“So… are you going?” She asked, reaching forward and touching Sirius’s wrist lightly. Sirius looked over at the other Marauders who had all stopped eating to listen in.

“Yeah we’re all going.” Sirius said nodding his head at the others. “Aren’t we lads?”

Sirius could see James looking at him with wide eyes and a ‘what the hell are you doing?’ expression and Remus wasn’t looking at him at all. Peter looked nervously between Anna and Sirius for a moment before nodding. “Yeah we are.”

“Oh right, yeah okay.” Anna said, beginning to stand up. “I guess I might see you there so.”

Sirius shrugged. “I guess so.”

Anna walked away and before she was even out of hearing range, James punched his shoulder not-so-lightly. “Mate, what the hell?”

Sirius rubber his throbbing arm. “What was that for?”

“She was obviously asking you out!”

Sirius choked on his pumpkin juice. “Well apparently it wasn’t that obvious, cause I didn't know about it.”

Remus finally met his eyes, wincing slightly. “It was pretty blatant.”

Sirius sighed and slumped forward, resting his head in his hands. “Oh my god I’m so dumb.”

James nodded in agreement. “Yeah you are. But if you went after her now and just explained what happened I’m sure she’ll still go out with you.”

Sirius shook his head. “No I don’t want to go out with her. I just wish I could tell when people are asking me out. I feel like it’s probably something I should be aware of.”

Remus smirked and Sirius’s gut twisted. He loved that little twitch of the other boys lips. “Probably.”

Peter patted Sirius’s shoulder sympathetically. “Don’t worry about it Pads, I’m sure you’ll get it the next time.”

Sirius just stared down at his now-cold toast. “Yeah.” He mumbled. “Next time.”

Sirius sat down on his bed and fell back dramatically, staring up at the rafters of the dorm. His radar for girls asking him out had not improved, according to his friends a grand total of five girls approached him that week alone. He had only known one of them asked him out on a date.

(That was only because she said “Hey, wanna go on a date with me?”)

He had politely declined.

Sirius sighed and grabbed his little red ball he kept on his locker and threw it up in the air as he lay on the bed, finding the steady rise and fall soothing. Most of Gryffindor, most of the castle really, were all outdoors enjoying the first properly sunny day in a long while. He knew if he looked out the window, he could probably spot James, Peter and Remus all sitting under the oak tree they tended to frequent.

There was a knock on the door. “Sirius?” Remus asked, poking his head in.

Or maybe Sirius wouldn’t find them all outside after all.

“Hey.” Sirius said, stopping throwing the ball but not sitting up.

Remus lay down next to him. On the small bed, their shoulders were pressing together and Sirius could feel the heat radiating off the other boy.

“Why aren’t you outside?”

Sirius shrugged. “Just wanted to think I guess.”

“Will I leave you alone?”

If it had been anyone else asking? Yes, Sirius wanted to be alone. But for Remus?

“No, you can stay.”

Sirius resumed throwing the ball, every so often passing it to Remus to give him a go. They lay side by side in silence for several minutes before Remus spoke again.

“Hey Pads? Could I… ask you something?”

Sirius turned his head slightly just for a second to glance at him. “You can ask me anything.”

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Remus biting his lip for a moment as if choosing his words carefully.

“Why do you… why do you never say yes to any of those girls?”

Sirius’s heart stuttered for a moment but he took a steadying breath. “I just don’t fancy any of them.”

“But isn’t that the point of dating? To see if you could maybe fancy someone?”

Sirius laughed nervously. “I guess I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been on a date.”

Remus fiddled with the fraying cuff of his jumper. “Yeah me neither.”

They were quiet again for a moment before Remus started talking again. “Do you think you’ll ever ask one of them out?”

“The girls?”

“Yeah.”

Sirius shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it wouldn’t be fair.”

Remus huffed our a breath. “Come on Pads, that’s a non-answer.”

Sirius rolled his eyes at the typical Remus response, but his lips twitched. “I don’t fancy girls.”

He held his breath, waiting for Remus’s response. He didn’t think it would be bad exactly - he knew his friends! He knew he could trust them, he knew they loved him but sometimes no matter how much logic dictates otherwise, a tiny inkling of doubt can creep in.

“I’m not so sure I do either.”

Sirius wasn’t sure what kind of response he was expecting but it definitely was not that. He turned his head to see Moony already staring at him. They didn’t say anything - they didn’t need to, the look that flashed between them said enough. A quiet understanding. Remus’s lips quirked and Sirius’s eyes followed the movement before they resumed speaking.

“So is there a guy you fancy?”

Fuck this was dangerous territory. But Sirius couldn’t lie, not to Remus.

“Yeah.”

This time it was Remus who rolled his eyes. “Wow that was so descriptive.”

Sirius’s eyebrow arched. “It was a yes or no question.”

Remus huffed. “Fine, fine, don’t tell me.”

Sirius bit his lip. And rolled onto his side to face Remus. The taller boy did the same. “I don’t just fancy him, I’m in love with him.”

Remus’s breathing sounded uneven. “He must be incredible if you feel that way.”

It felt like there was an elephant standing on Sirius’s chest. “Merlin yes. He’s kind and thoughtful and I could get lost in his eyes forever. He runs his fingers through his hair when he’s thinking, when he’s studying I know he bites the top of his quill even though he denies it and when he’s nervous he plays with the cuffs on his jumper and it’s so cute and I -“

Sirius cut off as Remus’s hands stilled. Hands that had been fiddling with the cuff of his jumper.

“-And he’s one of my best friends in the entire world. He’s brave and strong and the best person I know. I would do anything for him.”

Remus stared into his eyes for, Sirius couldn’t even tell how long. It could have been seconds or hours but to be frank, Sirius couldn’t give a fuck either way. Remus’s honey eyes had flecks of dark brown in them and all Sirius wanted to do was map the splash of freckles on his nose. Remus bit his lip so hard Sirius was nearly worried he’d draw blood before his eyes became steadier, more decided. Sirius watched as Remus’s chest rose unsteadily as he took a breath.

“He’d do anything for you too.”

And fuck if Sirius didn’t want to cry. Or jump around laughing. Or shout with delight from the tower. But most of all, he wanted Remus.

Cautiously, so cautiously, he reached his hand out and traced the cheekbones he had so often admired, Remus shivering lightly under his touch. His hand dropped lower as he ran his thumb over Remus’s ever so slightly parted lips, able to feel his hot breath on his skin.

“Are you ever going to kiss me or am I going to have to do it myself?”

“Merlin, I love you.” Sirius breathed before doing exactly that. He leaned down and connected their lips, at first, just a bare brush, Sirius was being so careful, waiting to see if Moony would decide that, actually no, he wouldn’t be making out with one of his best mates today, but that never happened. Instead, Remus tangled one hand in Sirius’s hair and wrapped the other tightly around his waist.

“Kiss me properly you wanker.” Remus demanded and Sirius smirked before pressing his lips against Remus’s and for a moment, that was all he knew. The world could have exploded but all Sirius would have registered was the hot force of Remus’s lips on his own, the fingers curling in his hair and the hand pressing steadily into his waist.

They pulled away gasping, Sirius looking at Remus’s swollen lips with a smug delight. He had always wondered what Remus would look like after a good snog. Now he knew.

“I love you too.” Remus said simply, cupping Sirius’s jaw in his hand and caressing thumb over Sirius’s cheekbone. Sirius’s heart just about exploded and he quickly leaned down to reconnect their lips, gasping as he felt Moony’s leg wrap tightly around his waist and he pressed himself impossibly closer.

“I love you.” He murmured against Remus’s lips. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Sirius has never kissed a girl. But he has kissed someone. The best someone in his opinion. The only someone really. Remus-motherfucking-Lupin; no longer the bane of Sirius’s existence.

(But still the love of his life).

#wolfstar #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #wolfstar oneshot #Remus Lupin/Sirius Black #Marauders #marauders era fanfiction #marauders era #hogwarts #James Potter #peter pettigrew #ao3 OpeningMyEyes #remus lupin #sirius black

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idrisnnet-archive · 3 years ago

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Ten bucks and a date

IDRISNNET'S HALLOWEEN EVENT - week 1: free choice!

SHIP: Thomas x Alastair

TROPES: Meet cute, College/University AU

WORDS: 2 383

•

“I hate Halloween.”

“Why? It's fun!”

Thomas sighed. “Halloween is just a rootless American evening that is created not to honor any ancient holidays (not really and you know it) but to take people's money through corporations that create costumes and candy that benefit - guess who! - the American economy and do local businesses dirty.”

Thomas, Matthew and Christopher were at James' house, waiting for him to bring something to drink.

“The hell?” Matthew said, blinking at him.

Thomas shrugged, crossing legs on the sofa.

“So,” Christopher said, raising his head from his homework. “You hate Halloween because it's American?”

Thomas groaned. “This is all you heard?”

“It's all that mattered,” he said. Thomas shook his head.

“Kit,” Matthew said. “What do you think?”

Christopher shrugged. “I don't see the point of it. I understand it's supposed to be fun. But candy and dressing up aren't my cup of tea.”

“I'll jump off a cliff,“ Matthew murmured.

“Hey,” James entered the room, bringing a few bottles of water. “Why will you jump off a cliff?”

“Jamie,” Matthew said. “Please tell me you like Halloween.”

James shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

Matthew beamed. “Finally! I knew my best friend wouldn't disappoint me!”

James curiously looked at the Merry Thieves. “Did I miss something?”

“We were talking about some Halloween party at the Bridgestock's house tonight and Matthew wants us to go,” Thomas said.

“And then Thomas revealed he has no soul,” Matthew said with a serious expression.

A pillow hit him in the face.

•

In the end, they went. Matthew had his way of making people do things. It also helped that Lucie convinced Thomas it wouldn't be completely awful.

She was dressed as Harley Quinn. She was still doing her makeup when they came but the costume was on. Her hair wasn’t blonde but the haircut was accurate.

Matthew was excited to make them dress in costumes. He himself was Dorian Grey. Lucie helped him with his make up for it. James was dressed as Peter Pan. Green suited him but he refused to wear a wig and make up. Christopher was convinced to be Einstein. He even put on the wig. He didn't look too happy though. He said Einstein is a physicist and Kit was a chemist. But he admitted he liked being in a laboratory apron.

Thomas' costume was simpler. No makeup (even though Lucie very much wanted to). Just the Joker costume and a mask with his makeup (that Thomas took off fast anyway).

They all went to the party, Matthew looking smug he had made them go. For a while they were together. They danced for a while, then went to drink something.

At some point Christopher disappeared. James went to the bathroom. Matthew dragged him to a quieter room, with a few people on the floor, playing "True or Dare". Matthew, and even James when he came back, joined the game. Thomas quietly left the room with the excuse he'd look for Christopher.

He returned to the main room, walking through the crowd. The music was so loud he couldn't hear his own thoughts.

He spotted Christopher through the window. He was in the backyard, sitting next to Grace Cartwright. She was dressed as a ghost - white dress, remaining a wedding one, but in gothic style with black elements. Her whole face looked so beautiful but cold as a marble.

But then she said something and Christopher laughed, tilting his head back. Grace also smiled.

Thomas knew there was something between her and James that ended up badly but he never shared with them. But someone who made his cousin laugh like this couldn't be that bad.

Thomas decided not to bother them. He continued past the window, towards the stairs. He saw some people smoking. Or rather smelled it. Some drunk girl dressed like a witch waved at Thomas with a big smile. He waved back.

As he was approaching the second floor by the stairs, the party became quieter. The music wasn't so loud here and it had fewer people. Thomas was passing by rooms from which were coming out suspicious noises. He hurried to leave them behind.

He ended up at the end of the corridor. One door was ajar. He couldn't hear anything from inside. He pushed it aside, stepping in. It was unexpectedly chilly. The balcony door was open. He could see a person sitting on the floor, smoking. He approached them, trying to make some noise to not startle them. They had an earphone in one ear. Thomas could hear the music.

“Hey, um,” he said. “Is it okay if I stay here for a while? I think this is one of the few rooms that isn't busy with… two people.”

“Sure,” the person, who turned out to be a guy, said. “I needed to escape myself.”

He didn't have a complicated costume either. He was wearing a skeleton tuxedo with a skull mask that covered half of his face. Thomas guessed he hadn't removed it because of the beautiful node on his nape.

As Thomas sat next to him, he put out the cigarette. But when he started to stop his music, Thomas said, “No need to stop it. I love this song.”

“Oh,” he blinked at him. Then smiled. “Not many people know Freddie Mercury's solo stuff. I'm impressed.”

Thomas laughed. “Don't be. I just like the 80s. The golden era of music.”

“Couldn't agree more,” the boy smiled. “Even though I think I prefer the 70s.”

“Why?” Thomas asked, curious.

“Elton John.”

Thomas couldn't help a laugh. “Fair enough.”

Thomas really wished he had brought his rainbow pin at this party. But of course he would talk with some cool guy about queer musicians at some stupid Halloween party without it.

“Are you here alone?” Thomas asked. At least he could know if the guy was single or not.

“Technically, no,” he said. Thomas' heart dropped in his stomach. “I came with my friends. But they're all too busy hooking up with somebody,” he snorted. “So I just came here to listen to some music instead of that loud trash.”

Thomas laughed again, relieved. “I feel you.”

He handed Thomas the other earphone. “Do you want to listen too?”

Thomas took it and put it on. Freddie Mercury's voice filled his head, clear and beautiful. The volume wasn't too loud so they could talk and listen to it at the same time.

Maybe this Halloween party wasn't that bad.

•

Alastair's heart was going to jump out of his chest. The guy's laugh was still ringing in his ears.

“I'm Thomas, by the way,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”

“Alastair,” they shook hands and Alastair smiled. “Nice to meet you too. It's good to know there are men of culture here.”

The guy - Thomas - smiled again. It was a nice sight.

“How about you?” Alastair said. “Are you here alone?”

“I also came with friends. But…” he made a face. “I'm in a similar situation.”

“Well,” Alastair said and looked at the sky. “It's good we found each other then.”

“Yep,” Thomas said. “Or else I would have been sitting on the corner, waiting for one of my friends to get drunk so I can take him home.”

Alastair laughed. “Good thing my friends don't get drunk.”

“I don't believe you. Everyone who isn't religious or in good health, gets drunk at these parties. And there is, like, ten percent of good people like ourselves who can have fun without alcohol.”

“I disagree,” Alastair raised an eyebrow. “You know what? Let's bet.”

“Okay,” Thomas said with a laugh. “What is the bet?”

“If you lose,” Alastair said. “You owe me ten bucks.”

“And if you lose,” Thomas said with sparkling eyes. “You owe ten bucks and a date.”

Alastair's heart jumped. He grinned. “Deal.”

They heard a noise from the backyard in front of them. Alastair couldn’t see what the drama was about but there were quite a few people.

“I have to go,” Thomas said and got up. He was looking at someone in the backyard.

“Oh,” Alastair spared him a glance. “Okay.”

“I'm so sorry,” he said. “I just saw one of my friends is drunk as fuck and he gets really... loud when he's like this.”

“It’s alright,” Alastair grinned.

Thomas was almost at the door when he turned back and said, walking back. “Find me some time in the faculty of history!” then, almost running, disappeared from Alastair’s view.

Alastair stayed on the balcony a little longer. The group of people in the yard were gone by a few minutes and it was quiet again.

Alastair decided it's time to find his friends. He got up slowly, putting out the cigarette he had lit after Thomas left. To be honest, he was kind of pissed at them. It was Kamala that insisted they dress up and Jesse to come here as a group. Yet at the end of the evening they were all in different places in the house, talking with other people.

He left the room, closing the door after himself. Now it was definitely less crowded. The music was quieter too. As he descended the stairs, he looked around. The last remaining people were either sleeping on the floor or some random objects that could be laid on. A few were smoking near the windows and some people that seemed very much drunk were dancing.

He spotted Grace close to the back door, smoking. He went to her, calling her name. She turned to him and smiled a little. He sat next to him and she handed him her cigarette. He took of his mask and took the cigarette.

“Where have you been?” she said.

“Well,” Alastair said, exhaling the cloud of smoke. “I was trying not to die of social interaction after all my best friends left me alone.”

Grace rolled her eyes. “You always have to be dramatic, don't you?”

“Only when it's needed,” Alastair grinned. “Where are Jesse and Kamala?”

“I'm pretty sure Kamala is hooking up with somebody. And by "somebody" I mean Anna,” Alastair snorted. Every damn time. “And I think Jesse went somewhere.”

Alastair eyed her. “He went somewhere?”

Grace shrugged. Anyone else would say she didn't care. But Alastair could see the tension in her shoulders.

He continued to stare at her. Grace exhaled and frustrated said “He left with Lucie Herondale.”

“Oh,” Alastair said.

“Don't "oh" me,” Grave said, annoyed. “I'm fine. I'm just pissed he still tries to hide it from us. Like he can keep a secret,” she snorted.

“Give him a break,” Alastair said. “He's only worried you would be upset he's dating your ex's sister.”

At the time when Grace dated James, she had discovered her aro-spec identity. She had a hard time with it - she didn't want to hurt James but also didn't want to pretend. Alastair didn't know the whole story - he guessed Jesse did - but the things between them had become ugly. Finally they broke up but Grace never talked about what exactly happened between them.

“I know,” Grace said, staring at her cigarette. “I just… I feel like he doesn't trust me.”

“Bullshit,” Alastair said immediately. “If he trusts anyone in this world, it's you. You know it.”

“I suppose,” Grace said hesitantly. She eyed him. “But seriously, what have you been doing the whole time?”

“You can't mind your own business, can you, Cartwright?”

“Nope.”

Alastair sighed. “I was in one of the rooms upstairs. I… met someone.”

Grace's eyes widened. “And you survived the social interaction?!”

“Shut up,” Alastair rolled his eyes.

“Come on,” she said. “Spill.”

“Okay, okay… his name is Thomas. And he's bloody tall.”

“Promising beginning,” Grace laughed.

“Seriously though,” Alastair said, a small smile on his face. “He's cool. We talked about queer musicians. Oh my god, Grace, he's an actual fan of Queen and Freddie Mercury. Not like the people who know their three greatest hits and claim to be the biggest fans. He knows their music. It was awesome.”

Alastair continued to talk a bit more. Grace was just listening with a smile on her lips.

“Oh, and a question,” Alastair said at some point. “Do most people at college parties get drunk?”

Grace stared at him.

“What?”

“Alastair,” she said. “This is the point of college parties.”

He frowned at her. “No, it’s not. The point is to have fun. Dance and all that shit.”

“Yeah,” Grace said, putting out the cigarette. She didn't light another one. “But for most people fun at these parties means hooks up, alcohol and then dancing.”

“Damn.”

“You're an idiot,” Grace said.

“Maybe,” Alastair said with a sly smile. “But I'm an idiot with a date.”

Grace arched an eyebrow. “What?”

“Thomas and I made a bet,” he explained. “If I win, he owes me ten bucks. If he wins, I owe him ten bucks and a date. And I lost.”

Grace shook her head with a smile.

“So,” Alastair said after a while. “Who was this dude with the glasses you were talking with?”

“Oh, no. No, no, no,” she said. “We are not talking about this. All I know is that he's demi and he knows I'm aroflux but we are not talking about him. Because if we do, you'll tell Kamala, she will tell Jesse and y'all are going to obsess over him.”

“Come on,” Alastair grinned, repeating the same thing she said to him. “Spill.”

Grace gave him a dirty look. “Fuck you.”

Alastair raised hands in the air like he was surrendering.

“Okay, okay.” Grace was right. They were going to obsess over him. But only because Grace sometimes dated assholes and with time they have become overprotective. They wanted only the best for her

Grace exhaled. “Thank you.”

After a few seconds of silence Alastair whispered. “What faculty is he in though?”

Grace got up immediately. “Nope. I'm going to look for Anna, you stay here and be happy about your date.”

Alastair grinned looking after her. She disappeared from sight, probably walking towards Kamala's room. He looked at the yard again, still holding his skull mask. They had a lot to clean up. The whole house was a mess and they had only two days before Kamala's parents came back. But he couldn't take the smile off his face.

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