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babybatscreationsv2 · 4 years ago

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Chikan

Marvel | Starker + Peter/OCs

The first time Peter gets groped on a crowded subway, it was completely unexpected. All the other times... well, let's just say he enjoys teasing old business men. The only thing that could make it better is if Tony Stark would notice.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings under the cut

Warnings: initial romnoncon, old man kink, exhibitionism, possessiveness

The first time wasn't his fault. It was a hundred damn degrees in New York and the only way to survive was to dress light and stay out of the sun. Which meant wearing a small pair of shorts and a thin t-shirt. He hadn't thought anything of it. After all, he'd never been sexually harassed before. It wasn't something he had ever thought to avoid.

So, crammed into a crowded morning train, Peter thought of his outfit other than that it was saving at least his legs from getting sweaty. His shirt was starting to cling to him. Someone brushed against his ass and there was no room in front of him to move without cramming his groin against the woman in front of him, therefore there was no where at all to move. He assumed it was an accident. Then it happened again. Just a light little touch. Then a firmer, more deliberate one.

Peter froze, mortified. The hand went away and he turned around to look. Behind him were several older business men, not one of them was younger than fifty. None of them looked at him and he had no way of knowing who it was. So he turned back around and tried to forget it ever happened. Until it happened again.

A rough hand palmed his ass, rubbing and squeezing. Fingers traced the bottom of his ass cheeks where they must have been sticking out of his shorts. The man behind him grabbed the waistband of his shorts and pulled him up. The material pulled up into his ass crack and he knew his full ass was out. His face heated, burning red. He didn't know why he didn't stop it. It would have been easy to whip around while that hand was still on his ass and see who it was and tell them off. But he liked it.

They rubbed and palmed and groped his ass. All the while Peter's mouth watered and his dick started to harden. A finger teased between his legs, touching him through the fabric. It felt unbelievably good.

He shifted, spreading his legs a bit. The man grew bolder, grabbing his crotch with his full hand, rubbing and squeezing him there too. Peter's legs shook. Then the train started to slow and the hand withdrew. Peter wanted to right his shorts, but he was so embarrassed that he couldn't even move. Not until the crowd began to push through the doors.

The second time it happened was entirely on purpose. Peter even went out and bought shorts in a thinner material so he could feel it better and he wore nothing underneath. He was nervous, but he hopped on the same morning train in the same car. He stood right in the middle holding on the strap above his head. It wasn't quite full yet so he hoped his groper would take the bait.

As people filled in, Peter didn't see any of the men from before. His heart sank with disappointment, but as the subway began to move, someone brushed his ass. He froze again. Then he relaxed. He tried to hide his smile. Someone else was interested.

He didn't think they were going to try again, but eventually they did, slowly growing bolder with each touch until they were palming his ass. Peter licked his licks. Fuck, he was addicted. They pulled their hand away and Peter risked looking behind them. They were all older, graying, business men, but different men than the last time. Some part of him wanted to turn around and beg to suck their cocks, but it scared to even think he could be that slutty.

He thought he had spooked the guy, but the hand came back, fully palming his ass. Peter wished he had something to rub his cock against. He was way harder than last time. Maybe because he could really feel the heat of that hand through the thin material.

A finger slid down his crack, rubbing when it found his hole. Peter moaned, biting the inside of his cheek in panic. He got a quick glance from the woman beside him, but she didn't bother to investigate.

When he rocked his hips against the finger, the man behind him must have realized that Peter was not an unwilling participant. He pressed closer to Peter's back until he could feel the heat of his hand. The smell of Barbasol filled his nose. He was gonna have to buy a can and start jerking off with the stuff.

The finger pushed, the tip of it slipped inside him. Peter's eyes went wide. He clamped a hand over his dick trying not to cum. He felt a breathy little laugh against his ear.

The hand withdrew and Peter let out a breath. He loved being touched, but he really didn't want to cum in his shorts. Yet, when the old man touched him again, he just spread his legs. He pulled Peter's shorts to one side and pushed his finger all the way in. It was slick, probably with spit, and it felt so fucking good. The finger pumped in and out. Then another pushed in.

Peter looked around him at all of the half-awake faces. No one knew that he was standing there, getting fingered, while they all dreamed of their morning coffees.

He felt the stubbly brush of a beard and chapped lips kissed the back of his neck. Peter bit down on the side of his hand, wishing he could scream, and he came in his shorts. The material was so thin that it leaked through, making a nasty stain. The man gave him another kiss, then left him alone. Peter covered the mess with his hand, face burning with embarrassment as he ran to the nearest shop to buy himself some new pants.

It became a regular thing. Peter started packing a change of clothes in a little drawstring bad. He kept wearing the tiny, thin, shorts and a thin t-shirt, every time he got on the subway. Hands touched and groped, usually staying on the out side of his shorts. Sometimes they didn't though and those were his favorite times.

This guy was feeling him up good, squeezing his ass cheeks to hard it might bruise. Then his hands went around to his front to palm his cock. Peter spread his legs and tried not to die on the spot because he was in fucking heaven. Then a second hand appeared, risky on a train. It slid up his abdomen and found his chest. Through his shirt then man rubbed his nipples. Peter could feel his hot, pervy, breath on his neck. He pressed his ass back, biting his lip when he felt his hard cock. He gave as good as he got, rubbing his ass against the man while he rubbed his cock and his nipples. When he pinched then hard, Peter thought he might faint. This couldn't be happening because it felt so fucking good.

Then the old man took the hand off his cock. Peter was disappointed for a moment only to stand shocked as he felt what was definitely a dick, rubbing against his ass. He rubbed it all over Peter's shorts, then slipped it between his legs, rubbing against his hole and his balls. Peter rocked his hips. He wanted him to cum on his thighs so bad. He squeezed them together, giving him something to fuck.

One hand held his hip while the other kept playing with his nipples. The old man slowly fucked his thighs. Peter felt him shake as he came, splattering mess all over his skin. He didn't play with his cock any more after that, just his nipples, leaving him hard and desperate when they left the train. Peter ran to the bathroom and jerked off in the stall using the stranger's cum for lube.

He had developed such a Pavlovian response to gray haired old men that even working in the lab was driving him insane. He's catch the subway, get so deliciously groped, change his clothes, and then turn up at SI only to rinse and repeat as he saw Tony.

If the man suspected anything, he said nothing, but he had to be aware of Peter's permanently red cheeks and how some days he came in with his nipples all hard under his shirt. There was one man who liked to play with them until they were raw and they ended up hard and sore all day. One time he forgot to change his shorts and he ended up sitting cum all day. He wondered if Tony could smell it.

He was always day dreaming about him. What Tony was one of the old men? What if he caught the subway one say and slipped in behind Peter and couldn't keep his hands to himself? That would be incredible. There was no way, though. Tony wasn't a pervert and he understood concepts like consent and personal boundaries. The problem was that Peter desperately wanted him to violate him.

Horny brains do horny things, though. Which meant that Peter was finding it increasingly difficult to remain professional. Especially on the days when he didn't cum. He had gone from gushing compliments to outright flirting. Flirting which was taking a very obvious and pointed turn.

"Have I mentioned that I love your hair?" Peter said one day.

Tony ran a hand through it. "It's getting pretty gray, huh? Bout time I had it dyed."

"No, I mean it. I think it's sexy."

"Sexy?"

"Yeah. You're kind of a silver fox."

"We'll I wasn't named Sexiest Man of the Year seven times for nothing." Tony winked at him.

Sometimes Peter caught himself staring. Especially when Tony got hands on, working in a tank-top with bend metal into shape. When Tony called him out, he panicked.

"Take a picture, kid," he teased.

"Uh, sorry. It's just uh..." he swallowed. "Your arms- I mean I- you're really strong Mr. Stark."

"All hard work, baby." He grinned.

Peter turned away and made himself look at something else. He couldn't be that oblivious could he? Not that Peter wanted Tony to know that he was hot for him. It would make things awkward.

Then came the day that Peter forgot to change his shorts when he really, really, needed to. Not only had he cum so hard that it had leaked through and there was cum very visible on the fabric, but there was a hand print on his ass from a guy smacking him as hard he could. A couple of people turned around at that one, but Peter had gotten good at hiding his reactions and no one said anything.

Tony looked him over, hands tucked in his pockets. Peter held eye contact only due to becoming a deer in the head lights and feeling physically unable to move as he realized why Tony was looking at him like that.

"What's up, Pete?" Tony popped his lips. Was he angry? He looked kind of angry.

"I uh... what's up with what, Mr. Stark?"

The look he got at that was even worse. "You keep coming in here, looking like sex, stinking like it too, and it's fine. I get it. Your in your twenties. You're young and horny and that's great, but we need to set a boundary here because you're making me insane."

Peter stared. "I'm making you insane?"

"Yeah. I don't know what orgy your going to that happens at six am every morning, but I do recommend reigning it in."

"Uh..."

"I was a party boy so I have no right to nag, but at least tell me you're getting tested."

The look he was getting was such an odd mixture of pain and concern that Peter couldn't help it when he blurted out, "I've been letting old men touch me on the subway-"

Tony blinked. Rapidly. "You... I'm sorry, you're doing what?"

"It wasn't my fault the first time," he babbled, trying to explain. "It was just really hot out and I was wearing short shorts and this guy started feeling me up, but I really liked it so I bought even shorter thinner shorts and now every morning a different guy touches me and sometimes I cum in my shorts and I make a mess and I usually change before I come inside- I'm so sorry, Mr. Stark."

There was silence for a moment. "Oh. Alright. That sounds-"

Peter's eyes stung with tears, but he kept rambling. "Bad. I know. Someone assaulted me on a train and I liked it because I'm sick and I'm horny for old men and I think I'm gonna throw up now."

He bolted, running for the bathroom. When he got there he heaved, but nothing came up. He sat on the floor, crying his eyes out. Obviously Mr. Stark would think he was gross or insane. Obviously that was the stupidest thing he had ever done and he could never take the subway again.

The bathroom door pushed slowly open. "Pete? You okay?"

Peter sniffled. "I'm fine. You don't have to come in here."

"Yeah, I do." Tony walked in and crouched beside him. He waited until Peter peeked at him from behind his knees. "There's nothing wrong with you. Yeah, its not good that people are touching you without asking first, but there's nothing wrong with you for liking it."

"Really?"

"Really. Come on. Let me make you a drink."

"It's like seven am."

"Sometimes you gotta day drink, kid."

They sat together while Peter sipped something strong and Tony had a coffee. They didn't say much or really anything. Once Peter was calm, it was like the whole thing had never happened. He went and changed his clothes and they got to work same as always.

Then the next morning, Peter got on the train. The first thing he noticed was a familiar cologne. The scent had his toes curling already. It must have been one of his regulars behind him. He closed his eyes, already excited as a hand palmed his ass. They felt him up good, with greedy handfuls, like they owned his ass. Peter pushed back for more. The hand slid down, feeling his thighs, then up to his chest to tease his nipples. A beard scraped his neck.

"Is this what you like?" Tony whispered in his ear. Peter froze. What was Tony doing here? Why was he touching him? Was he making fun of him?

"Don't worry, baby boy. I get it now. This is why you've been flirting. You wanted me to be the one touching you, hm? Is that it?"

Peter nodded.

"Dirty boy. I'm old enough to be your father."

Peter shivered. He looked around, but no one seemed to be listening.

Mr. Stark didn't have the same reservations the others did. He grabbed Peter's arm and forced the crowd to move aside so they could stand by the door. Peter faced out toward the full train while Tony was behind him. His hands rubbed his cock and palmed his ass. Peter's legs shook and he pressed kisses to his neck. He gasped as Tony's cock slipped between his legs.

"You feel that, baby? That's what you did to me. With your tiny little shorts." He grabbed the back of them and pulled them up so his ass was out and the material was tight against his cock.

"Your old men every put it inside you?"

Peter shook his head. "Well I'm going to." He whimpered.

"You want that don't you?"

Peter nodded. He squeaked, biting down on his lip when Tony pinched his nipple. "You gotta promise me something."

Peter nodded again. He'd do anything for Mr. Stark already, but now he was offering his cock for it. Nothing was off limits.

"No more strange old men. You want an old man to touch you then you call me, got it?"

Peter nodded his head. "Tell me, baby."

"Yes, sir," he whispered.

"Good boy."

His cock was slick with lube when it pressed against his hole. Peter pushed up on his toes and Tony pulled him back on it. It felt so big, forcing its way inside. Peter trembled, barely standing on his own. He couldn't help it when his body started to move, rolling his hips to fuck himself deeper.

"That's it, baby, good boy," Mr. Stark purred. "I'm gonna fill your little hole and you're not gonna change your shorts. Do you hear me?"

Peter nodded. "Yes, sir."

"That's right. Your gonna let my cum drip out all over you. Let it dry on your skin. Your gonna be my nasty little cum dumpster today. You deserve it for not coming to me first. You let those other men touch you. But you're all mine now right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good boy. Keep grinding on my dick. Make yourself cum in your little shorts like a dirty little boy."

Peter gripped the bar in front of him. He closed his eyes and hoped no one was looking at him. Tony fucked him slowly, barely moving, but it was enough. Getting fucked by an old man on the subway, even if that old man was someone he knew, was way too fucking hot. Tony's hand slipped down over the front of his shorts and Peter's eyes went wide. His hands clasped over his mouth. He groaned low in his throat trying to hold it in. The guy in front of his gave him an odd look, but decided to mind his own business.

"Good boy," Tony purred. Peter shivered all the way down to his toes. "Squeeze my cock, baby. Milk it."

Peter chewed his lip and his did his best to obey. Tony's stubble burned his skin as he ran his lips along the side of his neck. Didn't make a sound, but he gripped Peter tight as he came. Peter felt wet inside as he pulled out. They fixed their clothes and stood waiting for the train to stop.

The next day, there was a car out front of his apartment. No more subway. Just Tony, feeling him up and making him cum in his pants as they rolled through the busy morning traffic.

#marvel #starker #peter/oc #public s*x #old man k*nk #romnoncon

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merrigelblogs · 3 years ago

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Re: the post about why your OC is still alive, I am making SO many eye emojis right now to know more. (All of them, but SPECIFICALLY the one regarding whoever's death would make a sacrifice invalid because WOOF that's my JAM)

FRENCHYYY YOU'RE A GIFT 🥺

The sacrifice one is for my first DnD character ever, my lil halfling druid boy Kieran Broadoak!! Since he was The First (and also my only DnD experience up till that point was the Adventure Zone LMAO) I of COURSE had to give him something tragic in his backstory, so like

Kieran's deal is that he's the oldest son of a farming family who ran away as a teen because he didn't WANNA take over the farm, he didn't WANNA settle down (with a WIFE??), he wanted to learn magic and be an adventurer!! And he ran away WITH a new friend who'd wandered thru town, a wizard named Surana who tried to teach him magic (unsuccessful, the boy was Not suited for wizardry) and then just ended up becoming a general mentor and close friend!

They traveled around until, in the heart of a forest in the dead of night, these two young'uns were caught by some particularly bloodthirsty bandits; Surana set herself up to defend her ward, but combat magic not being her specialty, things went haywire and the whole forest ended up being set ablaze; Kieran ran and barely escaped, but couldn't find any trace of Surana afterwards.

Concluding that she'd sacrificed herself to save him and feeling pretty shit about it! We actually found pretty early in the campaign that Surana did live and went on to be a part of a pretty cool secret magical order, but that happens.... 'bout 5 years later?? So until then, Kieran was just a wandering travel guide with no roots and no real connections who was. Kinda just getting by. (But it's cool bc then he met the party, found Surana, helped save the world, and now he's settled happily with his sweet buff human husband!!)

Also I yammered A LOT there but for kicks... quick summaries of the rest under the cut 👀

OKAY SO IN ORDER

"Got lucky and ended up with maybe the only one who won't kill her" = Aveline! She's not who she says she is and tho she hasn't REALLY let it slip, she's a pretty awful liar!! Lucky she's with a good crew hehe

"Magic and near-complete dissolution of the self" = Arc! Would say more but it's still a spoiler >:3c

"Determination and genius" = Temerity! Girlbossing her way out of poverty and aiming to pull her family up with her!

"Vast food supply left by those who came before" = Hiro, my as-yet-unplayed cleric for a post-apocalypse campaign! He grew up alone in a Gamestop because he's a Gamer Cleric (and I thought it was very funny)

"Somehow hasn't been killed by her habits" = Robyn! She is. Not trying that hard to live but she's still kickin'!

"Still has permission from the big eldritch parent" = My ol' space warlock Dandy! Was granted a physical body by his patron, is nervously aware that said patron Might be able to turn him into stardust at any moment

"Good question" = Mickey, another yet-to-be-played; my bard for an 80s-themed campaign! They're a college freshman who found out they have magic in a (seemingly) non-magic world and they. They really do act like it. I love them

THANK YOUUUU FOR LETTING ME BLATHER!!

#yammers #ask #THANK YOU FOR INDULGING ME #frenchy-and-the-sea

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

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Serendipity - Part I. (Harry Styles)

a/n: i am BEYOND excited to share this story with you guys! i’ve been working on it for over a month now if not more and what started as just a oneshot, slowly grew into this massive fic. i really hope you’ll love the story of Harry and Lis bc im obsessed with them haha. please feel free to share your thoughts and reactions about the chapter and the fic itself!

pairing: Harry x OC (Annalise Lloyd)

word count: 8k

SERIES MASTERPOST ⚫️ my masterlist ⚫️ come and talk to me about Serendipity! ⚫️ consider buying me a coffee!

Serendipity (n.) Finding something good without looking for it.

There are people who plot out their New Year’s Eve plan even months before the last day of the year, making sure they will be celebrating the upcoming year at the best party possible. And then there are the folks who just ignore it until the very last moment and end up spending at a random place with even more random people.

Harry Styles desperately wanted to be the first kind, but unfortunately often found himself falling into the second case scenario. With his busy schedule and endless ocean of his upcoming projects, he never really had time to think about the last party of the day and usually ended up just tagging along some of his friends wherever they headed to. This year was no different, having to work up until even the last few days of the year, Harry had little to no thought about where he would be when the clock strikes midnight.

Just about a day before it, one of his old high school friends, Griff hits him up with a text if he would want to join them for the celebration at the pub he opened not that long ago. Harry didn’t think twice to accept the invitation, finally checking one more thing off his list, so he won’t just stay at home, and pathetically fall asleep at ten.

It’s nothing big or fancy, Griff assures him in the morning when he rings his friend up to ask when he should arrive and what he should bring.

“Nothing, ey? Just come and ‘ave a good time with us,” Griff tells him, though he already knows Harry won’t show up empty handed.

December 31st

A little before seven Harry opts for a quick shower before he dives deep in his wardrobe to find something to wear. He is torn between wearing a fancy outfit or something cozier, but eventually stands up for the latter, putting on a pair of light washed jeans, a simple white button up and a seaweed green knitted jumper under his coat. He doesn’t pay much attention to his hair, his curls falling around his head in a messy, warm brown halo. It’s been raining all day, it wouldn’t have had any use to try to tame them.

Slowly but surely, Harry feels the buzz in himself, excited to see his old friends and maybe meet some new people while having drinks and just relaxing. He grabs a bottle of fancy whiskey from his bar and heads out around eight.

Griff is one of the few people Harry stayed in touch with after his career launched so abruptly, the two of them often met up whenever Harry was around, having a pint together, just chatting up. Griff bought an old pub a few years prior and completely renewed it, opened at the beginning of the year, Harry was there at the opening party, he had way too much to drink, but he surely had a great time.

“There he is! My favorite arrogant son of a bitch!” Harry immediately hears as soon as he steps into the pub that’s already quite filled.

The tall lad makes his way through the groups of guests until he can envelop his old friend in a warm, brotherly hug as Harry chuckles at the name he just called him. Griff always loved that line from Harry’s song and never missed a chance to call him that. He doesn’t mind though, keeps that playful side of their friendship he always adored so much.

“Good to see you, mate,” Harry smirks at him. “Here, this is for yeh.” He holds out the pricey drink and Griff shakes his head at him.

“Told ya not to bring anything!” he sighs but accepts the gift anyway, knowing well Harry would just sneak into the back anyway and leave the liquor on his desk. “We ‘ave a nice evening ahead of us. Got food, drinks, everything’s on me, take what yeh want,” Griff assures him as the two of them walk further inside.

Harry sees a few familiar faces, high school friends, kids from around the neighborhood that are now grown adults, just like him, but there are quite a lot of guests he doesn’t know.

“C’mon, yeh need t’ ‘ave a welcome drink with me,” Griff grins as he pulls Harry to the bar and fills up two shot glasses generously. Harry doesn’t even bother to ask him what it is, he just takes the glass willingly and after they clink in the middle they both send it down.

Harry grimaces as the hard liquor burns down his throat, Griff never played around with the soft drinks, he knows what hits the best and fastest and Harry figures it’s one of those drinks that would have him crawling on the floor after two more shots.

It doesn’t take Harry long to mix and mingle, get into conversations and meet new people, just enjoying the welcoming and warm atmosphere of the party. He is pleased to see that people treat him just like any other guest, rather than a famous person and he is beyond thankful for that.

Near the bar, Griff has set up a quite rich buffet table filled with all kinds of snacks and food. It’s way past ten when Harry shuffles over there feeling his stomach growling. He grabs a paper plate and his eyes roam everything that’s set on the table. Humming to himself he decides to opt for the delicious looking fries, his mouth drools just at the sight of them, so he puts a generous amount to his plate before his eyes spot the bowl of peas. That’s exactly what he needs to go with the fries.

He goes a little overboard, but he couldn’t care less. Once he is satisfied with his meal he puts back the spoon that was sat in the bowl of peas, right when someone reaches for it. Glancing up his gaze meets a pair of warm brown eyes and a shy, but playful smile. Harry can’t stop himself from smiling instantly as the woman takes the spoon and fills her plate with peas. He looks down and sees that her plate is filled with the exact same things: fries and peas.

“Excellent choice,” he smirks teasingly and her eyes snap down to her plate before she sees the similarity on Harry’s plate. She lets out an airy chuckle before she tugs her chestnut colored, wavy locks behind her ears with her now free hand.

“Mother always told me to balance the junk out with something healthy,” she admits, the corners of her mouth curling up as she blinks a little shy under Harry’s burning gaze.

He always knew he had an eye for pretty things and he never dared to deny himself from admiring them once he laid his eyes on something he found breathtaking. She was by far the prettiest thing he has seen in quite some time, so he doesn’t shy away from taking in her figure in front of him. Delicious looking curves dressed in a pair of tight jeans and a sheer shirt with a top underneath it, the front tugged into the waist of the jeans. Her hair looks effortless, but he can tell she probably spent some time forming the natural looking waves before coming here. The thin eyeliner makes her eyes appear more cat-like and her long lashes dance around with each look she pays him.

“You want to—um, sit?” she stammers nodding towards an empty table near the buffet, a soft blush tainting her soft skin. Harry absolutely adores the hint of innocence in her features.

“’fcourse,” he nods and follows her.

The two of them move over to the table and sit down with their meal, Harry sneaking a fry into his mouth right away.

“’M Harry, by the way,” he says, realizing he hasn’t even introduced himself just yet. Some people tend to look at him weird whenever he does it, as if it should be common knowledge to know who he is, but he never takes it for granted. Luckily, she doesn’t find it funny or weird that he introduced himself.

“Annalise. But everyone just calls me Lis,” she explains and holds out a hand for him, which at first looks a little odd and he can tell she regrets the motion, but he appreciates it, even finds it cute. So before she can pull her hand back he takes it and gives it a soft shake. “So what brings you here tonight?” she asks as both of them digs into their food.

“Griff invited me, saved me last minute, didn’t have any plans.”

“How do you know him?”

Harry finds it amusing that she didn’t bring up that a famous person like him would probably have tons of invitations to fancy parties. He hates when people assume that his social life is blossoming at all times, packed with parties and events to attend every day.

“We went to high school together. Stayed in touch through the years.”

Lis nods with a small smile before her eyes return to the plate in front of her.

“How ‘bout you?”

“Oh, um… Well, Griff and I had a blind date like ages ago, but we both figured out pretty quickly we are never gonna be more than just friends. But that we are perfect for. Have been meeting up every once in a while. I was kind of in the same shoe like you, wasn’t planning on coming out tonight, but… I was forced to,” she admits with a nervous chuckle.

“Y’ don’t like to go out?”

“I—uh, don’t really have the time,” she answers, clearly a bit nervous at the topic so Harry decides to just drop it.

The two of them sit there, just talking and eating and with each passing moment Harry finds himself more and more enchanted by the woman sitting on his right. The way she rambles sometimes, how her nose scrunches whenever she is laughing hard, how she likes to keep tugging her hair behind her ears all the time, are the smallest things but they easily catch Harry’s attention.

Besides, she is not just the looks, also an amazing company. Easy to talk about anything, even the riskier things too. She doesn’t shy away from giving her honest and raw opinion, but also doesn’t attack if someone thinks differently. Instead, she is open to other point of views, seeking opportunities to learn and grow. It’s a mindset Harry values highly and feels like it’s hard to find it. But on this evening in his mate’s pub, he found a gem, it feels like.

The plates soon get swapped to beers and Lis is getting giddier with each gulp, which he finds amusing, especially because she lets her thoughts slip without thinking about them and it allows Harry to look into that pretty head of hers easier.

He doesn’t fail to notice how his heart flutters every time she touches his arm or hand whenever she is deep in a story. The warm touch of her soft hand is sending him into trembling and he is glad they are sitting because he surely would be having a hard time keeping himself up on his feet. She is just the kind of person that wraps others around her fingers without even trying or noticing.

Though it’s only been over an hour since he first laid his eyes on her, he feels like he has known her for ages. The connection built up fast and smoothly, sweeping Harry right off his feet. He’s got it bad for her and he already knows he wants to see her again once this night ends.

“Oh, it’s almost midnight!” Annalise gasps snapping out of her thoughts, a hand snapping to Harry’s upper arm. The crowd is starting to buzz, getting ready for the count down.

“C’mon, let’s get some champagne,” Harry tells her and helps her up from her seat.

They head to the bar and each of them grabs a flute filled with the sparkly alcohol. They stand a little to the side, but still mingled in the crowd of guests. Harry can feel his hands getting sweaty as he thinks about the countdown. Every fiber in his body is aching to kiss her, even though he knows it’s quite crazy knowing the fact they have known each other for only two hours. But he just can’t help it, she has a spell on him with just one look, making him act like a teenager in love.

Annalise peeks up at Harry with a lazy smile, the drinks have made her a little lightheaded, but she is nowhere near being drunk. Her thoughts are absolutely clear and they all focus on the man standing close to her.

Harry watches her bite into her bottom lip and he wonders if she is thinking about the same thing. If she’d be mad if he kissed her when the clock strikes midnight or slap him right across his face. He notices as she draws a deep breath, eyes looking around before they return to him.

“Get yo’ drinks, lads!” Griff shouts from somewhere behind the bar and those who haven’t picked up a glass quickly work on the problem.

Then the countdown begins.

“Ten!... Nine!... Eight!...”

Annalise glances up at Harry and her cheeks blush when she catches him already looking at her. She wishes she had her beer so she could hide in her glass from his burning eyes.

“Seven!... Six!...”

Harry turns so his whole body is facing her and takes just one tiny step towards her. When she doesn’t back away from him, he takes it as a sign that she might want the same thing as him.

“Five!... Four!...”

She looks straight up at him with a sheepish smile and pushes herself against him right when his free hand finds its way to her waist. She sucks in a sharp breath, but doesn’t move while Harry is aching to taste her plump, soft lips.

“Three!... Two!... One!... Happy New Year!”

The crowd cheers as one, guests are clapping and screaming, welcoming the new year with high hopes and full of planes for the new chapter that just started.

Harry and Annalise lock eyes and while everything around them is a full chaos, he feels like a bubble of silence and tranquility is surrounding them. Harry sucks in his breath, lips parted as he doesn’t break his gaze with hers. There’s a moment of hesitation, but the voice in the back of his mind tells him that he can’t let this moment go to waste.

Fuck it! He tells himself before he leans down and his lips meet hers in a soft, warm and breathtaking kiss.

He is a man who believes in magic, in things he can’t explain rationally, he is a man who doesn’t try to pull reality into everything when something odd happens. When his lips meet hers, he is swept right off his feet with just that tiny touch. It’s not a demanding kiss, very restricted and shy, but it still makes his insides tremble for her, almost falling to his knees right in front of her.

There’s a moment of hesitation from her side, when their lips are just touching in a little awkward way, but it fades into nothing before Harry could wrap his head around it, her lips parting as she lets him deepen the kiss, a soft moan slipping out of her throat that brings a knot to his stomach.

The moment is so vivid, raw and intoxicating, he wishes he could bottle it up and open it to have a taste of her anytime later, keep her in his pocket just to have her lips glued to his like this whenever he needs to be grounded or taken away from the world. His fingers dig into her waist, pulling her close to his body, hoping to just merge into her, become one with the woman in his arms.

She softly glides her hands up his arms, through his shoulders before they stop at the back of his neck, digging into his soft curls, while never breaking the kiss. Their lips stay melted together, tongues and teeth clashing, they are a hot mess in the first minutes of the new year.

The cheering slowly dies down and the usual buzzing of conversations and laughter replaces it, but the two of them are still busy with each other and it takes quite some time to pull themselves out of the bubble they created.

“Happy New Year, Lis,” Harry smiles down, lips swollen, eyes glistening from the joy that’s filling up his veins. She glances up at him shyly from under her lashes.

“Happy New Year, Harry,” she whispers, biting into her bottom lip, coming off the high this little make out session gave her.

One hour passes by, then another and the party is starting to slowly die down. People are flaking out the door, the crowd is getting smaller with each door opening.

Harry and Annalise remain in the corner of the place after their kiss, a barrier that’s been noticeably present before has come down as Harry has his arm swung over the back of her chair and she lets herself lean against his side. There’s something so calming and tranquil in just being so close to each other, sharing thoughts and stories while his fingers graze on her shoulder gently and her head always falls to his shoulder when she laughs on something. He loves her laugh, it could easily light up any place and Harry can’t help but feel sorry for the people who don’t see her shine. So many guests didn’t get the chance to get to know her, but on the other hand, he is a bit selfish, he wants her all to himself. No one else should have the honor of making her laugh or bringing a smile to her perfect lips. He wants her all to himself, even if it makes him sound like a mad man.

After she leaves to the restroom, she comes back with her phone in her hands and a tired smile playing on her lips.

“I, uhh—called an Uber. I really should get going,” she tells him and he wants to make her stay. He wants this evening to last forever, but he can’t ask her to stay longer than she wants, so he just slowly nods.

“I’ll walk you out,” he offers, but it’s more like a fact.

The two of them find their coats on the packed rack, Annalise says goodbye to the handful of people she knows, hugging Griff before they head outside to wait for her car to arrive.

“I really enjoyed tonight,” Harry mumbles, shoving his hands into his coat’s pockets, feeling like a nervous teenage boy talking to his crush. She glances up at him with a smile, but there’s something clouding her eyes he can’t really put his finger on.

“Me too,” she assures him, a pair of headlights turning the corner and they both look in the approaching car’s direction before facing each other. “It was really great meeting you, Harry. Take care of yourself in the new year,” she tells her, but he doesn’t like the weight of her words. It sounds like a proper goodbye, like she is bracing herself to never meet him again, but he can’t let that happen.

“Can I—Uh, can I have your number? I would love to take you out sometime.”

The car stops next to them and she nods in the driver’s way to let him know she’s the one he is supposed to pick up. Taking a step to the backseat, she looks back at Harry.

“I’m really sorry, Harry, but we can’t.”

Devastation washes over him, her words are like a punch into his stomach each. Why is she rejecting him? Did she not enjoy the evening? Did he say something stupid? She seemed to be having a great time, so why can’t he see her again?

“What? Are you sure? Because I really loved tonight and would love to see you again.”

Annalise opens the car door and shoots him an apologetic look. He has never felt this helpless in his life, than at that moment, looking at the woman of his dreams escape from his reach.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t get into… whatever it is you want from me. I really am sorry, I wish it was different.”

“But I just want to see you again. I thought… You didn’t feel like it was something special?” he breathes out, feeling the world crashing down on him with each passing moment.

“I did, but I can’t do this. I’m sorry. Take care, Harry,” she sighs, clearly not happy about her own actions and he doesn’t understand why she is fleeing away like this.

He stands there, completely frozen as she gets into the car and shuts the door open. Their eyes meet through the window one last time before the car starts moving and she falls out of his view. He stares after her until the very last moment, when the car disappears at the end of the street, leaving him in pieces from the major rejection he just suffered.

He stays out there until his nose and cheeks turn red and his ears are freezing off, part of him wishing that if he just waits she’s gonna magically reappear and tell him it was just a joke. He can’t believe he met such a wonderful creature and had to let her go like she didn’t flip his whole world upside down under just a couple of hours. Does she know how much of an effect she had on him?

She probably doesn’t, he thinks to herself, because then she wouldn’t have left so abruptly and without a trace for him to find her again.

When Harry returns to the pub, he is met with a tipsy Griff, shoving a pint into his hand immediately.

“Ay, saw you hanging with Lis all night!” he teases Harry, but the mentioning of her name just makes his heart ache. However, knowing that Griff is friends with her, he is ready to use him as a way to get to her.

“Yeah, hey, you have her number?” he asks, trying his best to look as innocent as possible, but Griff sees right through him, even with all the alcohol in his body.

“Sorry, mate. F’she didn’t give it to ya, I won’t go against her.”

“I’m begging you, Griff. I need to see her again!” he sighs in despair, ready to do anything he can to get to her.

“Y’not the first bloke to fall for her magic. I know what it feels like, but I can’t do anything, sorry.” He shrugs his shoulders, giving an apologetic look to his friend before he joins another conversation.

Harry could scream from the frustration, the urge to punch something or someone is growing with each passing moment, but he has to realize there’s nothing he can do at this point other than accept the fact that he met this wonderful woman, had the best night with her and then was forced to watch her walk out of his life before she could even become part of it properly.

Harry starts to realize that what he thought about heartbreaks is nothing compared to the feeling Annalise left in his heavy heart.

There has to be a solid reason for what she did. Or did not do.

Endless theories about Annalise flood his mind through the days following that night when he was forced to watch her leave on such a bitter and painful note. Harry couldn’t stop himself from making up the most ridiculous cases just to give himself a possible peace of mind, but neither of them brought him enough comfort to forget about her.

His best shot was that she had a boyfriend, or even worse, a husband. This was the only version that sounded somewhat real and believable, though he just knew she is not the type of woman to cheat on a significant other.

How would you know? You spent just one evening with her, she could be a serial killer for all you know! Harry’s rational side was always quick to shut him down when his thought swirled around the idea of knowing her well enough to assume anything about her.

As the days dragged by him in a painful pace, he slowly had to realize it’s going to be a question in his life he’ll never get an answer to, so he just has to learn to live with the thought of the woman that got away.

The end of January rolls around faster than he could comprehend, February comes and he finds himself spending his days mostly in the studio, cooking up new music. Studio sessions are his favorite. That’s his element, he feels safe and comfortable, surrounded by people he trusts and enjoys creating his art fully. In the new year, he has also been eager to pick up a new hobby so he has been trying himself out in knitting and painting recently, finding both of them just a tad bit too hard for him just yet, but they were enough to get his mind off of the one woman who was constantly occupying his thoughts following New Year’s Eve.

Sitting in an armchair in the studio, he and his bandmates are listening back to some recordings they did today and he is trying to find that one thing that keeps throwing him off whenever he hears the song.

“I think it’s great,” Mitch states once the recording ends, and Harry agrees, it is great, but not the best.

“Maybe we could tone down the keyboard a little through the bridge, give more space for the guitar,” he contemplates, but really, he is just shooting in the dark, not sure what it is that keeps him on edge about the song.

“Why don’t we have a break?” Sarah suggests with a warm smile, seeing how everyone is keen on leaving for a little, except Harry, who is still fixated on mastering the song. But he agrees to have the break, however while everyone gets ready to leave and grab something to eat from the diner that’s around the corner, Harry stays where he is, eyes glued to his notebook.

“You’re not coming?” Charlotte asks him and he just shakes his head.

“No, not that hungry.” He looks up and shoots them a short smile and though they all can tell he could use the time out, they know him enough already that he won’t leave before he finds what’s not right.

“Alright. We’ll be back in an hour,” Mitch informs him and he dismisses them all with a nod.

He stays right there, going through the lyrics a few more times, making tiny changes in hopes that it’ll fix it all, but he can feel himself growing frustrated. Doesn’t matter how hard he is trying, he realizes his brain needs a break. Letting out a defeated huff he leans back, looking around in the empty studio. He doesn’t feel particularly hungry, but he could use something to snack on. So grabbing his coat he locks up the studio and heads out to the nearby Tesco they usually run out during sessions.

He is still humming the melody to himself when he walks in, a pair of sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, his famous curls hidden under a green beanie. He doesn’t bother to get a cart or basket, just strolls inside and roams down the aisles, trying to decide what he desires.

He settles on some kind of canned tea and a protein bar, but before he heads towards the cash registers, he wanders down the aisle where they keep cereals, looking around aimlessly. It’s the middle of the day on a weekday, most people are at work at this hour, so just a few other customers are lingering around, filling their carts. At first, he doesn’t pay any attention to the figure a little further down the aisle, his eyes are glued to the shelves, but then he just mindlessly glances to his left, his brain not even processing what, or who he is seeing at first. Then he takes a double take and his stomach drops to the tiled floor when he recognizes the woman, deep in her thoughts to decide which cereal to buy.

Annalise is standing just a few meters away from him, looking just as beautiful as he remembered, wearing a pair of simple jeans, light blue sneakers and a white jacket, her hair is in a loose ponytail on the top of her head.

“Lis?” he calls out, as if he thinks she is just a ghost. Taking a few steps closer he watches as her eyes fall from the products on the shelves to him, then they widen and her lips part in shock.

“Harry? Wha-what are you doing here?” she asks and Harry is quick to read the panic out of her tone as she looks around cautiously.

“I’m… shopping?” he answers with a soft chuckle, holding up the items in his hands.

“Haven’t seen you around here.”

“The studio we use is nearby, I drop by sometimes. But today is clearly my lucky day.” Even though her reaction is giving him doubts, he can’t hide his joy upon seeing her again, fate clearly playing on his side this time.

“Uh, yeah?” she lets out an anxious chuckle, her eyes often wandering off him, as if she is waiting for someone to show up and it just fuels Harry’s rich theories about her.

“So, are you here with your boyfriend?” he boldly asks, deciding to just go for it. Annalise’s eyes widen once again, but not in a way that makes him think he just busted her, it’s more of a confused one.

“Boyfriend? What are you talking about?”

“Well, you basically ran away from me that night, I figured you had someone and that’s why you didn’t want to give me your number.” He tries his best not to sound petty or bitter, though that’s exactly what he’s been feeling ever since she left that night.

“Harry, that’s… not the case.”

“Okay, so does this mean you’ll give me your number this time?” he tries and he is so busy with her presence, he doesn’t even notice when a smaller frame runs past him down the aisle.

“Mommy! I want this!”

At first, he doesn’t even register that the little boy is talking to Annalise, he dismisses his presence, eyes still fixated on her, but then her gaze leaves him and turns down to the boy, holding up a bar of chocolate.

“Honey, that’s too big. Choose something smaller, alright?”

It takes Harry a few moments to put one and one together. This kid just ran up to her, called her mommy and most likely not on accident since she answered him, very much talking to him like his mother. Though Harry can’t see his own face, he knows it fell, shock completely taking over him as his thoughts finally add up. Annalise looks back at him in panic, completely puzzled about what to do or say.

“Benji, go get another one, a smaller one while I talk to my friend here,” Annalise softly tells the boy.

He turns to Harry, eyes meeting his as he cocks his head to the side, examining the shocked adult standing in front of him.

“Who’s this?” he blurts out.

“Just a friend, alright? Go get your chocolate,” she urges. Benji gives Harry another look before nodding and running off, leaving them alone once again in the cereal aisle. “Harry, I-I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed to know.”

“Are you married?” is his first question, taking her by surprise.

“What?”

“The father. Is he your husband?” he urges, eager to clear the picture. Annalise shakes her head.

“No, we were never even married.”

He feels relief washing over him. At least at this point he doesn’t feel like a homewrecker. If he found out she wasn’t only a mother but also married, and that she cheated on the dude with him, that would have crushed him. But it’s one less thing to worry about on a long list.

“Okay, it’s fine. You are not married, it’s all good,” he breathes out and it brings her a smile through this absurd situation.

“You thought I was married?”

“Or at least had a boyfriend, yeah,” he nods, hands on his hips as he licks his lips. He surely had a mini panic attack, but he can feel the life coming back into his body.

“Do I come off like the kind to cheat that easily?” she asks with raised eyebrows, but she didn’t take it as an offense, she more like finds it funny rather than hurtful.

“No, not at all! I was just trying to figure out why you rejected me and this was my best shot!”

“I’m sorry, Harry. I just… I didn’t know how to tell and I didn’t really think you would want to see me again after that night.”

“I think I made it clear that I wanted to when I asked for your number.”

“Well, yes, but I thought you just wanted a hookup and that’s just not what I can do.”

“Because of…” he gestures towards the boy that jolted down the aisle just a few minutes ago.

“Because of Benji, yeah.”

“Alright, it’s understandable, but I did not just want a hookup, and that’s still not what I want,” he clears, his words certainly surprising her. This is definitely not what she was expecting when she came down to get groceries today.

“Harry…” she breathes out, already feeling guilty that she is about to turn him down once again. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m a single mother with a six year-old and you are… you.”

“I don’t see your point,” he truthfully answers.

“I’m not some model you chatted up at some award show, who is living her best life, traveling the world just like you. My days consist of work, doing laundry, cleaning the house, cooking, doing first grade homework, going to football practice and watching cartoons. We are polar opposites.”

“No, just our lifestyles, but that doesn’t mean we can’t get closer.”

“Is that really what you want?”

Harry is about to answer right when Benji emerges again, proudly holding up a bar of KitKat in his hand this time.

“This one! This one!” he declares, stopping next to Annalise.

“Okay, put it in,” she nods and the little boy throws the chocolate into the cart with a beaming smile. Her eyes flicker back to Harry, who is now staring down at Benji, who is seemingly not that interested in him at the moment, his attention is more focused on the cereals on the shelves.

She is aware she can’t really push this conversation, but she also doesn’t want Benji to hear it.

“Benji, can you get me three apples? I’ll go get paper towels in the next aisle, alright?”

“Three?” he asks holding up three fingers to make sure he heard her right.

“Yes.”

Benji nods and runs off once again, while Annalise grabs a random box of cereal off the shelf and starts pushing her cart, Harry walking along with him.

“It’s nice that you want to prove that you are fine with whatever baggage I come with, but I’m not stupid, Harry. I know I’m not the jackpot and I’m not naïve, I’m not trying to make myself believe that I’m easy to date when I’m clearly not.”

“You act like you are the only single parent out in the dating field. I genuinely don’t think that it’s that big of a deal.”

“Yeah, that’s what you are saying now. But then we would get more involved, you’d grow frustrated that I can’t just go after you whenever you feel like it, or that I would have to cancel on plans because Benji is sick or has homework to do that he needs help with. Or that my Friday night consists of playing board games, then watching whatever cartoon Benji is keen on seeing and I’m in bed by ten while you probably spend these nights out with your friends, hopping from one bar to the other. And I’m not saying that you shouldn’t, that’s exactly what you should be doing at your age… at our age. But for me, it’s just different.”

She is not talking just out of theories. She has tried to date, several times, but it was always kind of doomed from the beginning. Men in their mid-twenties don’t want to be a stand-in dad, though it’s completely not what she expects. But as time went by, they all grew tired of having to deal with a kid in the relationship and they all ended up leaving and she can’t even blame them. It’s not what they want in life at this point, but she can’t be what they wanted her to be so slowly but surely she gave up on finding a man before she turns thirty and her peers start to get into the whole idea of having a family that’s already been her reality since she was eighteen.

And the situation is even more complicated with Harry. An international rockstar is definitely not the right person for her and vice versa. She can only imagine what some lowlifes would think when they found out he is dating a single mother. People can be cruel for no damn reason and she is definitely not in the right mindset to be humiliated just because she is a mother.

The two of them move down to the next aisle so she can grab the paper towels along with some dish soap. Harry is keen on making her understand that he is still very much interested and he has nothing against her being a mother. It was just a little shocking to find out this way, instead of hearing about it from her.

“I think you have an unreasonable picture in your head of what my life is like,” he explains. “Yes, I do travel a lot and I go to parties, but it’s not what I do most in life. And I’m not expecting you to turn your whole life around for me.”

“Yeah, but dating me is kind of me asking you to turn your whole life around for us,” she simply says and he is stunned at her words, having nothing to bring up against them. “Look,” she sighs. “I appreciate the effort and everything, but I want to save you the time, just like I originally wanted to. I know that it seems reasonable now, but once you get involved, it’s a whole different world, I’m telling you. And while I would love to give you the chance to prove me wrong, I still have to think about Benji. I can’t just drag someone into his life and then have them leave when they figure out it’s not what they want after all. He needs stability around him and it’s enough that he can’t get that from his father.”

Harry has a million questions roaming in his head that he is dying to ask. Mostly about the father, because if he is not in the picture, he can’t imagine what kind of scumbag he is for leaving someone like her. But he keeps them all to himself, especially when Benji appears again with the three apples, putting them into the cart with a proud smile. The boy turns to Harry this time, finally acknowledging his presence.

“Who are you?” he asks. Harry looks down at him and pushes everything else into the back of his mind as he hunches down a bit, holding out his hand for the boy, a friendly smile playing on his lips.

“I’m Harry, your mum’s friend. Nice to meet you.”

The boy doesn’t hesitate to take his right held out, his small hand almost getting lost in Harry’s big palm as they shake hands like two adults. Harry is stunned by how confident he is, unlike most kids his age.

“I’m Benjamin Lloyd,” the boy introduces himself smiling and Harry can see the resemblance now clearer than anything. His smile is certainly his mother’s and the shape of his eyes along with his chin are the exact same as Annalise’s, leaving only a few traits that must have been inherited from his father.

Benjamin lets go of Harry’s hand and turns back to his mother completely unbothered by the man he just met.

“Mum, are we staying on the playground a little?” he asks as they all move down the aisle, heading to the cash register.

“Uh, yeah, we can stay for a little, but you need to do homework when we get home. Mrs. Conrad sent me all the work you missed today so we have to catch up on everything. You got away with faking sickness this morning, but you are doing the work you missed.”

Benji doesn’t fuss about having to do work, he knew this would happen when he faked to have a tummy ache, he nods understanding the importance of doing his homework and Harry is amazed by how great his behavior is. Most kids his age would have thrown a tantrum over what Annalise just said, but not Benji. He is like a small adult, Harry thinks.

“I honestly don’t see why you still have to push me away completely. Did you not enjoy talking with me?” Harry continues as they stand in line, Annalise putting everything to the belt from the cart while Benji is busy playing around the poles that separate the lines.

“Of course I did!” she sighs.

“So then why can’t we just continue? See where it goes?”

“Because that’s just not how things work for me,” she says with a soft, sad chuckle.

“What, you can’t have friends?” Harry asks innocently as Annalise finishes packing, puts a divider on the belt so Harry can put his items behind hers.

“Oh, so you just want to be friends?” she asks raising her eyebrows, seeing through him easily. Harry opens his mouth, but then closes, a cheeky smile stretching across her face that makes her chuckle.

“For now, yeah?” he tries to sound convincing, but it’s more of a joke.

The cashier starts to scan her items so she pushes the cart over to the end and starts packing everything back, Benji still climbing on the poles, completely oblivious to the conversation happening around him, or he just chooses not to listen.

“You are unbelievable,” she shakes her head at the man in the line. The cashier finishes up with her items and she taps her card on the terminal, pushing the cart away a little.

Harry is scared that she’ll flee the moment she gets the receipt and leaves before she could go after her, but for his biggest surprise, she just pushes the cart a little away from the cash register and starts packing her items into totebags. Benji runs up to her and she gives him his KitKat without a word, the boy happily tearing the packaging open, snacking on the chocolate.

Harry is quick to finish with his items, catching up with Annalise as the three of them head out of the supermarket.

“Look, I’m gonna be honest with you, I haven’t felt like this with anyone in a long time, Lis. I loved talking to you, I feel like we had a connection, and I think you felt it too. I would hate to waste whatever we had so I’m offering you my friendship. I want to hang out, spend time with you, just as two adults enjoying each other’s company. Nothing more, if that’s what you really want for now. And we can see where it heads later. How does that sound?”

They reach her car and Benji runs to the backseat, tearing the door open while Annalise opens the trunk and she is surprised to see Harry help her pack her bags into the car, but she doesn’t protest.

“I really don’t know…” she sighs.

“Come on! Just friends. Give it a try! I have a great feeling about it and I promise to be very careful. I understand that you need boundaries because of Benji and I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable in any way. But you do have to realize that you need to open up at one point. You can’t use him as an excuse forever.”

“I’m not using him as an excuse!” she points out, but she can feel how that’s not the whole truth.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Lis,” Harry smirks, pulling his phone out of his coat’s pocket and unlocking it he holds it out for her once she has closed the trunk. “I’m just asking for your phone number, not to travel the world with me. You can decide to block me later if you change your mind, it’s nothing serious, alright?”

Annalise’s hesitation is clearer than the light and in any other case, he would take offence at it, but not with her. Harry is keen on proving to her that he meant everything he said and that he is willing to take a chance with her.

Chewing on the inside of her cheeks, she glances back at Benji, who has climbed into his seat in the back of the car. She is fighting with herself, bringing up all pros and contras until she finally caves in. Grabbing the phone from Harry’s hand she types her number in and gives herself a ring so she can save his number as well. She hands the device back and Harry’s smile is so wide, she almost wants to punch him in the face, but she can also feel the excitement running through her veins.

“Great. You won’t regret it, Lis,” Harry beams shoving his phone back into his pocket. His hand reaches for her arm and gives it a gentle squeeze as he doesn’t want to try anything further with her at the moment.

“I better not,” she mumbles shaking her head before turning around to buckle Benji in. When that’s done she pays one last glance at Harry who stands at the car next to hers, watching her get behind the wheel and back out from her spot. He waves at her happily and she just nods in his way before turning around the car and driving away.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!” Harry rages through the phone, his anger only met with a soft chuckle from Griff on the other end of the call.

“Mate, I told ya, s’not my place! She didn’t tell ya, so I didn’t either.”

“You saw how hooked I was on her! You could have, no, no… you should have told me!”

Harry was quick to run back to the studio and called Griff right away to load everything out on him. He felt betrayed that his friend didn’t let him know this small little detail even after seeing him all crushed after she left without a trace to find her. He gets his reasoning, he does, but it still doesn’t stop him from being so bloody mad at his mate.

“Sorry! I really am sorry! But I know how protective she is over Benji. I was not gonna betray her like tha’.”

Harry takes a deep breath, paying up and down the hallway in the studio, trying his best to calm his nerves. It’s an unfortunate situation as a whole, he sees that clearly, but the frustration how it had to go down at the end is getting the best out of him for sure. He is not mad at one specific person, because everyone was doing what they thought to be the best, but everything added up to be such a shitty outcome, or at least on Harry’s side.

Pinching the bridge of his nose he huffs again, putting aside his burning emotions.

“Okay, okay. Sorry to snap at you like that, it was just… a lot.”

“I get it, don’ worry about it,” Griff assures him, glasses clinking behind him somewhere, he is probably working at the pub as they are speaking. “She gave ya her number now, right?”

“Yeah, she didn’t want to, but I talked her ears off,” Harry chuckles lowly. He could still feel the excitement that rushed through him when she finally gave in.

“M’happy for ya, mate. But please be bloody careful. She doesn’t need any shit right now, has enough on her plate.”

“I know. I’m just trying to be her friend first, that’s all.”

“Alright. Swing by the pub sometime soon, if ya want.”

“Sure thing. Bye Griff,” Harry smiles before ending the call.

Walking back into the recording room, all eyes snap up to him and he stops in his track.

“What?”

“The hell was that about?” Sarah questions, asking in the name of everyone in the room. They all just heard his rage outside and now are dying to know what it was about.

“I uhh—I found her,” he simply says and watches all his bandmates gawk back at him with wide eyes.

“What? Did you like, hire a private investigator or something?” Charlotte asks, making Harry chuckle as he shakes his head no.

“No, I ran into her at Tesco. Well, her and her… son.”

His last word washes out the whole room, everyone stops breathing for a moment as they stare back at Harry who has that ‘yeah, you heard me right’ look on his face.

“A son?” Mitch asks snapping out of his shock. “Like a proper kid?”

“How do you not have a proper kid?” Harry asks him with a look.

“I don’t know! I’m just… surprised. How old is the kid?”

“Like six or seven. She said something about being a first grader.”

“Didn’t you say she is a year younger than you?” Sarah asks, as everyone is doing the silent math in their head.

“She is, with one year. Or that’s what she told me.”

“That makes her, what, like eighteen when she had the kid? And what about the father?” Charlotte trails, still trying hard to put the picture together.

“She didn’t say much, but from what I understood, he is not really in the picture. So at least she is not married or something,” Harry adds, still open about the relief he is feeling about that information.

“This shit is twisted,” Sarah huffs. “So what’s gonna happen now? Did you ask for her number again?”

“Ask?” Harry chuckles bitterly. “I begged, Sarah. I was ready to be on my knees in the middle of a bloody Tesco.”

A round of laughter runs through the room and the mood finally eases a little after the shock that just set in. It wasn’t the fact that Annalise had a son that sent everyone over the edge, but rather that she didn’t say a single word about it and how it all surfaced.

“And did she give it to you?” Mitch prompts and Harry nods, a shy smile stretching on his lips as the two girls start clapping and cheering.

They all saw his long face after New Year’s Eve, it couldn’t be missed how he was moping around for weeks. He told them all about this girl he met, who completely blew his mind just before breaking his heart. Now that she was found and gave him just a small crumble of information about her to him that makes him able to contact her, the change is visible. That little sparkle in his eyes is back and that’s all his friends wanted to see.

“So what are you gonna do now?” Sarah asks as Harry walks over to one of the armchairs and makes himself comfortable.

“Now… I’ll try not to scare her off. Hopefully she won’t push me away and at least let me be her friend.”

“Friend? Is that what you want to be?”

“Of course not,” he sighs, his head dropping to the back of the armchair. “But this is all I can do for now.”

They all just nod, tasting his words and letting everything that just happened sink in. Harry is doing the same, he has a lot to think about and figure out, but there’s one thing he is one hundred percent sure about: he will not give up on Annalise.

NEXT PART

TAGLIST

let me know if you’d like to be added or taken off!

@stylesfics-xx @dontworrysunflower @mariamuses @bookwormandtea

#harry #harry styles #styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles x oc #harry styles serendipity #harry styles serendipity series #serendipity series #serendipity

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honeysidesarchived · 4 years ago

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WHERE THERE IS NO TEMPTATION, THERE IS NO GLORY.

⊱ a santino d'antonio / oc short-fic

pt. iii: tra i due litigante terzo gode ( read on ao3 ) ( masterlist )

words: 3.6k

warnings: mentions of animal death (canon-typical), clown on clown violence.

rating: m/t

notes: putting this little project of mine up on the internet for strangers to see was incredibly nerve-wracking, but i have been so lucky to be received so kindly by folks! thank you to everyone who reads, it really means the absolute most to me.

i don't know if i mentioned this before, but you can find translations for the (google-translated) italian at the bottom of each chapter on my ao3. i know it's a hassle, i'm sorry!! just can't find an easy place to put them here without spoiling what's going on in the chap ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ

thank you as always to my lovely beta @starcrier, my lover my life my shawty my wife; this could not be done at all without you. ♡ and to @belorage, who loves euphie enough to send me the cutest message that managed to kick my ass into gear to get this chapter edited!!

Two days after the engagement party, when Santino has finally made up for his delay and lateness, is when he ruins it all again.

Later, Euphemia will think that he can’t help it—he is destined to be a wrecker, a ruiner, even if it’s for himself. It’s not his fault, not really, she’ll say. Ignoring that he is a perfectly autonomous adult means that she can excuse his thoughtlessness and not call it selfishness.

One of Santi’s men tries to tell her that he’s busy as she strides through the museum, heels clipping the floor with a strict, stark cadence. The smell of the doctor’s office is still stuck in her palette. She feels a wad of anxiety, anticipation, coiling deep in the pit of her stomach, a black stone dropped there to torture her with its heaviness. Santino will be happy, she thinks absently, chewing the inside of her cheek as she moves. He’s always wanted this.

The man is keeping pace with her well enough, despite her long legs and the purpose with which she walks to one of the back rooms of the museum.

“Bella,” he says, reaching to stop her, “per favore, he is in a meeting.”

The words put a sour taste in her mouth. Busy, the man is trying to say, too busy for you, for this, right now.

“Trust me, Gianni,” she replies dryly, “he’ll want to make time for this.”

She takes two steps into the room past the other guards, who don’t bother trying to stop her. The room is marked primarily by a high ceiling, which allows all of the paintings to be hung in it in their varying degrees of size. Euphemia recognizes Santino sitting on the bench first, and then another man that he’s talking to. The man looks like he’s just come off of the streets, his hair dark and the scruff that she can see on the side of his face manicured enough to look like he just hasn’t bothered recently.

It takes Euphemia’s brain a few seconds to register the facial features of the man who turns to look at her over his shoulder. He would be nothing, mean nothing, to her if she didn’t see the way his expression flattened, his gaze sweeping over her—calculating. Measuring. Identifying.

He looks dirty, unshowered, covered in soot, and she thinks back to two nights ago when Santino showed up to their engagement party smelling like fire and gunpowder.

Santino stands abruptly. He might be angry, or perhaps worried; it’s hard to tell the difference with him. But she can’t look at him, anyway, her gaze fixed on the stranger who is not much of a stranger at all, who she knows because of the scary stories. The rest of the world may as well be melting down around her, some sick Van Gogh painting, and she can’t look away.

John Wick has dark eyes. Shark’s eyes, she thinks. Black, soulless. Like the glass eyes on a teddy bear. She feels her stomach lurch as fear washes over her in a slick, wet wave, reminding her that she’s already received one bout of stressful news this afternoon.

He watches her. She’s sure he’s sizing her up—that is what John Wick is made to do—but after a second, he glances to Santino, gauging his reaction. If he thinks she's any kind of a threat, he's not letting it show.

“I told you not to let anyone in,” Santi says angrily to Gianni, helpless behind her—because Gianni would have never dared to grab her arm to stop her, would have never thought it acceptable to handle her like street rabble.

“Santi,” Euphie says, feeling very small and very far away and somewhere that her body isn't, “who is that?”

She knows, but she wants to hear him say it.

He steps around the bench, excusing himself from his conversation with Wick and crossing the space between them to guide her out of the room with his hands on her arms. She lets him, not because she isn’t burning with rage but because if Santino doesn’t show her where to go, Euphemia will just stand there, fear driving icy-hot spears through her chest.

He takes her as far as around the corner of the room, maybe to put as much space between her and John Wick as he can afford, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. She starts to shrug his hands off of her, and oh, there it is—the shrieking, panging fear, and fury, boiling inside of her. Venomous, indignant. Her mind is a mess of color and noise and she’s vaguely aware that maybe she should be working hard to keep her voice down, but it no longer matters.

A lot of things shouldn’t have happened that did. What’s one more?

“You brought him here?” She can feel her voice bordering on hysteria. “Are you a fucking idiot, Santi? What part of I don’t want John Wick near my life—”

“Euphie, Euphie, Euphie,” Santi says, trying his sweet-talk; condescending, like he’s speaking to a child. “Lower your voice, tesora, and we’ll talk about it.”

Her hand moves of its own accord, a knee-jerk reaction to Santi sweetly telling her to shut up, and she slaps him. Hard. As hard as she can manage. The second her palm connects with the side of his face, and the needles start stinging in her palm, she thinks that she regrets it: but all she can really think about is the pure fear and rage coursing through her body, pummeling adrenaline through her bloodstream until she feels like she’s going to be sick.

And, a little, too, a warmth blooming in her chest: satisfaction.

Santino's head doesn't turn back to her right away. There is a heartbeat of a moment where only silence reigns, where his fingers reach and touch the place her palm had made contact with, like he can't believe she did it. Maybe he can't, but then he'd be a bigger idiot than Euphemia thought.

He turns to face her again and holds up a hand—perhaps to call for a moment of inaction, or to be prepared for a second blow, she’s not sure and she doesn’t care. Santi begins, his voice a low threat, “Do not do anything else you're going to regret, Euphemia.”

Anything else you’re going to regret, he says, as though she will regret having done this.

“Fuck you,” she snaps, her voice rising in volume further yet. The poison reverberates on the high, smooth glass ceiling, bouncing off of the marble walls until it’s all echoing around them. “He knows what I look like, what—what I sound like, he knows my name, Santi, you—”

She's pushing him, hitting his chest; an impatient and weak battering. She wants both to get him away from her as much as possible and keep him close. Santi catches her wrists with bruising force, trapping her and making her look at him.

“Euphemia, basta—if you had waited,” he bites out, “then—”

“I’m pregnant!” The words leave her in a visceral, furious shout, her heart thundering in her chest, her flight or fight demanding one or the other. She rips her wrists from his grip. It feels like her entire body is vibrating. “You fucking idiot—I was late, I just got back from the doctor, and—and you’re not supposed to have him here anyway! You promised me, Santino D’Antonio, you promised me!”

There is a heartbeat of time, of space, where her fiance stares at her like he doesn’t quite think that she’s real. Red blooms on his cheek where her hand made contact and the dark of his pupils has all but swallowed up the beautiful green of his irises. Finally, something seems to kick the gears back into motion, and he plunges on, catching his footing.

“Euphie,” Santi says, reaching for her again, “Euphie, listen to me. John came to me, I didn’t—”

“I don’t need a fucking history lesson, Santino!” Euphemia spits, brushing his hand away from her arm. Blood is rushing through her head, louder and louder, demanding she raise her own volume to be heard over it. “I told you to leave him alone. You insisted, and I thought that was the end of it—you came late to the party that night because of him, isn’t that right? So why is he here, Santi? Why is John Wick near me and my baby?”

Santino stares at her. She can see the flex of his jaw when his teeth clench, trying to maintain what shred of control he has. He swallows, lifting a finger, to indicate one minute, and it takes all of her self-control not to scream at him that he doesn’t get any more minutes. But there is some pleasure in seeing him a little ruffled; to see the way his eyes dart over her face, trying to keep everything collected neatly in his mind, filed away for premium use. She wants to shake him until he is really rattled.

“It may have taken more persuasion than I anticipated,” Santi says finally, at last.

Euphemia makes a sound something like wrecking, like grief, because she knew this was going to happen and he told her it wouldn’t but here they are anyway. It’s a death knell, ringing in her ribcage, in the cavity of her chest. Dead, dead, dead, we’re all fucking dead now, don’t you see it? You, and me, and now our baby, dead like stones.

He continues quickly, over the sound of her agony, “But that doesn’t matter—cara mia, listen to me, it doesn’t matter because now John will do what I ask him to, and we don’t have to worry about anything else. Euphie, Euphie—come here, we'll talk about this.”

She’s going to be sick. The doctor’s words are still rolling around in her head; avoid stress, make sure you sleep and eat well. Can’t be worrying that baby, can we, Miss Volpe? Make sure your fiance does all the work, hm?

“It does matter. It matters the most, Santi, I—I told you to leave him be, I told you, and you said that you would only ask and that would be it—”

She’s grieving, now, lamenting the loss of her happiness, the hysteria taking a melancholic edge in her voice as the sorrow sweeps over her. Santi keeps reaching for her, to try and ground her back to him, and for the first time since she met him she just can’t stand to feel him touching her, saying her name, trying to sweet-talk her. His hands sweep her shoulders, coming up for his thumb to brush the nape of her neck; instinctively, her shoulders scrunch up to disembark them, arms shoving his off of her.

He says, “Tesora, we can talk about this—”

“You did exactly what I asked you not to,” she manages out, taking a step back from him. “I ask you for two things, Santi. Helping my mother, and not putting yourself at war with John Wick. I do not—you should not have asked him at all!”

“Euphie—”

By the time Santino reaches for her again, she’s turning and walking away, her steps unsteady. She’s sure that she’s sweating, or crying, or maybe both or neither and her body is just kicking into overdrive with gut-wrenching sweeps of grief rocking through her body now that she’s got Baba Yaga fifteen feet from her. From her and her baby.

“Euphie!” Santino’s voice echoes down the main hall of the museum, lighter now. Almost like they never argued at all. “We’ll talk when I get home, si? Mi amore?”

Euphemia is certain she’s never heard a sentence more infuriating in her entire life. It sparks something violent in her. It had been dormant, had stepped aside for her mourning, but it catches fire the second Santino says, we’ll talk when I get home.

Incensed, she turns and slides the engagement ring off of her finger, throwing it as hard as she can at him. Gianni had been trailing her, certainly at Santino's behest, and he tries to stop her—but it's too late, the fury inside of her forcing her to move more quickly than Gianni anticipates.

He catches her around the waist and she considers, briefly, the logistics of wrenching Gianni's arm off of her to go and slap Santino again; instead, she watches the expensive engagement ring bounce off of the front of Santino's jacket and clatter on the floor.

The way he tilts his head, as though expecting her to lob it at his face, and the irritated expression that comes over him is almost as good as actually having hit her original target of that pretty face of his.

Then, it’s pure, sheer, furious indignation that crosses Santi’s face, but she has no time to think about what that means for her.

“Fuck you, Santi,” she bites out venomously. “Fuck. You. Don’t fucking bother coming home.”

“Bella,” Gianni says, “we should get you back.”

Euphemia debates slapping Gianni, too, but it would be unfair; in his defense, he did try to keep her out of the room. She turns and marches her way out, the doors slamming shut behind her and the cold air of New York in the fall washing over her. As Gianni speaks on the phone and calls the driver around, she glances up at the sky; gray and soft as wedding silk, it stretches, endless, cut in pieces by the skyscrapers parsing it out.

A fool, she thinks. Santino has always made a fool out of me, and this is no one’s fault but my own.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Two hours later, Euphemia hears him enter the loft. He lets the door click shut softly behind him, not slamming it, not storming through. She expected no less; Santi so rarely lets the anger really take hold of him, so rarely lets himself scream or yell or throw something. I’m marrying a fucking sociopath, she thinks, but there’s no heat to the thought; only exhaustion, only a tiredness that goes bone-deep

Even now, she still thinks of it as present tense: she’s marrying a sociopath, as though she didn’t try to hit him in the face with the engagement ring he picked out for her just hours ago, as though in the end, she will still be his. She will.

“Are you calmed down?” Santino asks, in the way that only he could manage—condescending, and soft. Euphemia can’t withhold the vicious scoff that rolls out of her the second he talks.

“I told you not to come home,” she replies tartly, “but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You are apparently as deaf as you are stupid.”

“So no, then.”

“What do you want me to say, Santi?” Euphemia demands, looking at him now. She’s got a suitcase out but there’s nothing in it; she can’t bring herself to pack, to think about going back home to Tuscany where her mother is waiting, barely sober because she can only stay sober for about a month at a time before she falls back to her old habits. “Why don’t you invite our friend John Wick up for dinner, hm? I’m sure he’d like that, after you did whatever you did to make him show up here. Perhaps you took a page out of that idiot Iosef’s book and killed his new dog?”

“He owes me,” Santino insists, glossing over her needling, “and I will get what I am owed.”

She has to resist the urge to roll her eyes. “Do you know how fucking stupid you sound?” she asks, incredulous. “If I die before telling you how incredibly, disgustingly stupid you sound when you say that, then I will—”

Santino kisses her. He does it because he knows that she’s not expecting it, and it has its desired effect; she stills, all of the furious energy like bottled lightning capped again. He kisses her softly, with no rage, but she can feel it woven into the sinew of his posture.

She thinks about slapping him again. But he probably knows that, because he grabs her hands, gripping them in his; the pressure is more relaxing than it is infuriating, which almost drives her mad, but it does what Santino always does. It pulls her apart until all that’s left is the hurt, the fear, welling up inside of her like a tidal wave crashing into the shore.

“He’s doing what I asked,” he murmurs. “And then we’ll be done with John Wick. Mia piccola volpe, look at me.”

“No,” she says, trying to sound angry but it comes out an agonized sound; she’s crying before she can stop herself, tears burning the edges of her eyes and a big, wet gasping breath necessary for her to keep going. “No, I don’t want to look at you anymore, Santi—”

“He’s doing what I ask, and then I promise, you and I will be done with John Wick forever.” His voice is urgent and insistent. “The three of us, tesora. Isn’t that right? You weren’t just saying that to get back at me?”

She nods, numbly. They had been careful, because she’d said she wasn’t ready—but mistakes happened. Pills got forgotten. She wishes that she could have lied about it and kept it secret. Maybe he’d be acting differently now if she wasn’t carrying his child; maybe his face would be something else.

“Euphie,” he whispers, taking her face in his hands. “My perfect, gorgeous Euphie—my greatest piece of art.” He kisses her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. “And the one with the most bite, too, even when you are so ungrateful for the things that I do. My face still hurts.”

“Good,” Euphemia manages out, her voice wobbling. “You deserve it. Idiota.”

“Maybe,” Santi replies. He tucks her against his chest and kisses her hair. “I never thought I would piss you off enough to get you to hit me—and you did cause quite a scene in front of Wick.”

“Stop.” Just the sound of that monster’s name makes her stomach churn. “Stress is bad for the baby.”

He laughs, the first real laugh in what feels like days since he’s decided on this path with John Wick. “Fine, I will not mention him again. But know that after this, it will be done. Permanently. Forever. Si? Tell me you understand, Euphie.”

She’s so tired. She’s so tired down into her core, the kind of tired that doesn’t go away with a nap or a cup of coffee. “Si,” she replies, closing her eyes. “Capisco, Santi.”

Somehow, Santi’s words that things will be done “permanently” with John Wick only manage to make her more uneasy.

She can’t remember what exactly carries her through the rest of the evening. She remembers calling her mother to check on her, to ask if she’s keeping up with her meetings. She can’t bring herself to come clean about the surprise pregnancy; it’s early, anyway, and her mother would only stress her out more.

“Sei la mia stella più preziosa,” her mother says. “Ti amo, Effie.”

“Yes, mama,” Euphie sighs, unable to say the words back. “Buona notte.”

She hits the red end call button on the phone screen, setting it face-down on the countertop and leaning her palms against the marble. God, she knows that she’d fucking kill a man for a drag of a cigarette—but she could never. Not now. Not when she has—

The sound of paper on the countertop stirs her from her half-bent position. Santino slides it across to her, setting a pen down next to her hand. It’s their marriage certificate. He’s already signed it, and while she stares at it numbly, he takes her left hand and puts the engagement ring back on her finger, but this time with the diamond wedding band he’d picked out as well.

“Santi,” she starts, but he tsks his tongue, quieting her. She’s too tired to be offended.

“Sign the certificate, amore,” he says. “Do not fuss. You’re going to stop throwing this ring at me, yes?”

There are a million reasons not to sign it: but the words that came out of her mouth are, “We don’t have the witnesses or the officiant.”

“Do we need a witness or officiant greater than God himself?” Santino replies. He leans against the counter from the other side, watching her. He is polished, pristine. Any remains of her earlier transgression against him are now completely gone, at least the physical marks. She’s sure that he won’t forget very soon that she raised a hand against him. “Sign it, Euphie, and be my wife.”

She stares at the paper. She feels like she’s melting; her life can’t be real anymore, not when John Wick was, just hours ago, feet away from her, and she’s pregnant, and now Santino is asking her to sign their marriage certificate right now.

The implications fill her with dread. What’s the rush? If nothing’s wrong, if they’ll be done with John Wick, what’s the rush?

“You said that you had nothing before me,” Santino says, breaking her out of her eerie, absent-minded disconnect. He brushes the hair from her face. “You will never have nothing again.”

Euphemia signs the certificate in a haze. It doesn’t feel any different after; she doesn’t feel different and neither does Santino in relation to her, and the realization that they had felt married for a few years now sinks down on her.

Santino rounds the counter to her, taking her face and kissing her; her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, the corner of her mouth and eventually just kissing her. His hand smooths over her stomach, admiring, and he brushes their noses together.

“Perfetto e tutto mio,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “Isn’t that right, Euphemia?”

She replies, without thinking, “Si, sono tuo.”

Always, she thinks, always yours, whether I like it or not.

#santino d'antonio/original female character #john wick oc #santino d'antonio/ofc #john wick #spilled ink #c: euphemia volpe #c: santino d'antonio #c: john wick #x: senza tentazioni senza onore #oh yeah baby real good love the SUFFERING #ugh i wish i could convey how much it means to me to have people reading and enjoy this #alas i can only!!!! cry in the tags #thank you everyone <3

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tiredcowpoke · 4 years ago

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TITLE: Blank Spots [20] PAIRING: (Somewhat pre-established) Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader, could be seen as an OC. REQUEST: Unprompted. BLURB: After waking up at the base of a steep incline and nearly freezing to death, you stumble upon a group of strangers who swear up and down that they know you. WARNINGS: Some creative license for amnesia. Violence, kidnapping. NOTE: Chapter 20, damn. lol I’m not feeling 100% about this chapter but I wanted to get something out this weekend. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy. TAG LIST: @on-my-way-to-erebor / @otherthingstoreid @ireallyhonestlydontcare @elanisha @darlingsdevil @cirillamylove @bunnyreese12 @rollyjogerjones @callmemythicalminx @r4reland @itsnothingwithoutchaos

You knew there was some conflict in you about how everything turned out, the hurt Arthur caused still lingering somewhat but you knew you had to take that as it were.

Yet, you felt good. It felt good to finally cross that point with him--again. Perhaps things weren’t the same as they were in your memory, how sure you were in your relationship with him. However, things weren’t the same since Blackwater. You knew that even when your memory had been worse than it was currently, struggling to remember names and faces, let alone whole relationships. A part of you felt like you may never fully remember your relationship with Arthur, but you felt like you had finally taken a step in the right direction with your relationship with him currently.

Admittedly, it had been a little difficult to leave the small privacy of that beach where you had kissed him a couple days ago. To return to camp, to the dilemmas and course of normalcy you had found within. As normal as a group of outlaws could get, at least. For a while, you weren’t sure how Arthur wanted to approach this development, if it was worth telling people. You had realized that it would just be announcing what they already knew, but...well, maybe you were just overthinking that.

Really, it seemed like Arthur just took it in stride. Too exhausted to make a thing out of it, or if there was a point to doing so. A part of you was relieved.

Still, you did catch a couple eyes at the added bounce to your step, and the lingering touches when Arthur would seek you out as he was starting to move about on his own a little more frequently. He seemed to avoid outright public affection, something you had caught onto pretty quickly, but the two of you weren’t exactly hiding it. Still, nobody really felt the need to comment on it much outside of the odd question, which you found yourself not really minding.

It felt like you were allowed to let it go where it may without getting caught up in old expectations. Though, you weren’t too sure on where Arthur’s head was at, but he didn’t seem overly disappointed over that. You’d just have to trust him to tell you if he had an issue with anything.

Despite everything that happened to him, Arthur eventually seemed to return to his normal self after a while. A little thicker in beard and with a stiffer shoulder, but otherwise he seemed to have gathered himself back up after the whole ordeal with the O’Driscolls. You were greatly relieved at that, as much as you knew he would have to get back to gang business and what that entailed.

So, you weren’t too surprised to find him approach you one late afternoon with news that he had business in town with Bill and some other gang members.

“You sure you got the strength for whatever that will be?” you asked, Arthur rolling his previously injured shoulder somewhat.

“‘Bout as much as I’ll need,” he replied, “Can’t stay here forever, I gotta get back to what needs doin’.”

“I know,” you replied, giving him a small smile, “I just don’t want you hurting yourself again. I don’t think anybody can take you stuck in bed for another couple weeks.”

“Myself included,” he returned with a small huff.

As much as you had tried to cover it with a touch of humor, you really did worry he might injure himself again by getting back out there so soon. At all, really. You knew what type of life he led, what they all led, and the chance of a bullet to the skull was always high. You could remember the way Arthur had fallen off his horse that night, how he barely was able to move his legs to get to his cot. You had struggled with the feeling at the time, but you knew that regardless of how everything had developed after, you didn’t want to see him like that again.

Yet...well, there was always a chance that you just might.

“You’ll be safe?” you asked after a moment, glancing at him. Arthur shifted, glancing down for a moment before meeting your gaze.

“Hate to be the one to say it, but I ain’t afforded that luxury. Not with this life.”

He did have a point, as much as you didn’t like that answer.

“Hey, I’m gonna be fine,” Arthur said after a moment, “Bill’s probably just got some lead, nothin’ too complicated.”

“Because everything lately has been so easy…” you muttered, stepping into his side as Arthur reached out to wrap an arm around your shoulder, a small grin touching your face when you felt him press a kiss to the side of your head.

“It’s gonna be fine.”

“Alright,” you replied with a nod, letting out a small sigh as you wrapped an arm around his back somewhat, “You know what you’re doing. Just be careful--for my sake, if anything.”

“I’ll try,” he replied, squeezing you to his side a little before releasing the embrace. You turned to face him once he had done so, watching as he seemed to glance off toward the horses for a moment before turning back toward you.

“Been thinkin’ we should head out to get the last of that treasure map,” he said after a moment, pulling a small grin from you, “Get outta here for a bit.”

“I’d like that,” you said with a nod, “Let all this play out first, though.”

“Yeah…” he replied, giving you a small grin of his own as you squeezed his arm somewhat before he turned to head out toward the horses.

You were worried, but you couldn’t fight the inevitable with Arthur turning his attention back to the gang. Perhaps it was a touch selfish, but you also knew everything that had happened had shaken you up some. Still, you were going to have to let that go. Some of it. You knew you had questions and a distrust of Micah that stemmed from what he did to you on that mountain and now what happened with Arthur.

That was a touch subject to approach, yet one you knew you would have to mention to Arthur eventually. It was just...hard to talk about. There was Micah himself, but even the memory of it filled you with such dread and fear.

Still, it couldn’t continue to go unsaid.

“Glad to see that fight you two was havin’ is cleared up,” a familiar voice from behind you said, turning to glance over your shoulder to see Abigail standing there.

She stood there with a cup of coffee, giving you a small smile as you let out a small huff.

“Yeah, and then some,” you replied as she walked up to stand beside you as she finished off her beverage.

“If only I could get John to see some damn sense. Ain’t from lack of tryin’,” she said around a sigh, you giving her a small nod.

It wasn’t the same screaming matches you heard from Dutch and Molly, and lord had those only gotten worse, but you knew Abigail and John had their moments in camp. Really, when you saw Abigail storming out from that tent they shared, you knew to give her some space. Still, you weren’t witness to the specifics of their relationship--well, if you had, it didn’t matter with your memory now.

“Grimshaw’s sayin’ Pearson needs a hand with dinner,” Abigail said after a moment, “Figure two hands might get us eatin’ all the quicker.”

Honestly, that didn’t sound too bad. You would need the distraction. You followed her out toward the food wagon once she had gotten her fill of the moment she had walked in on between you and Arthur. Still, even with the chopping of the vegetables and meat, you still couldn’t really shake this feeling that lingered at your back. You just...well, you were worried. That was what it was, and you were sure you would end up feeling foolish for it when they all returned back to camp.

Thankfully, your partial absentmindedness didn’t cost you a finger or injury. Though, you were pulled from your thoughts when you felt Abigail touch your shoulder, a look of mild irritation crossing her expression.

“Think I can wrap up the rest,” she said, “Think you can Jack for me? I think he’s playin’ in the woods near the edge of the river. Maybe the boy’ll listen to you quicker while I finish here.”

You let out a soft chuckle, passing her the last of the food you had to chop up. “We’ll see, but sure.”

Rinsing your hands in one of the washbasins nearby, you headed out toward the mouth of the river near the path leading out of camp. You didn’t see any sign of him from where you stood--he wasn’t tossing rocks into the water or drawing in the dirt with a stick like he usually was. You could feel a small twist to your gut, hoping that he was just in the tree line and you wouldn’t have to wander off to find him.

You dropped down onto the bank, following it along until you were able to step up and into the trees. You paused for a moment, listening for anything before walking further in.

“Jack?” you called out, pausing in your walk, “Your mama’s looking for you!”

Silence. More twisting in your gut. You really hoped he was just playing a game not wandered off or…

You moved with more purpose into the trees, calling his name once more before you heard some movement nearby. However, as you did so, you heard a muffled cry that sounded from very close nearby. Yet, as you turned to look in that direction, something very solid and hard jabbed into the centre of your back. The pain radiated up your spine, settling hard in your kidneys as you felt your knees hit the ground.

“Stay down!” an unknown voice hissed, your eyes lifting as someone stepped out from around a tree. He had his hand pressed against Jack’s mouth as he squirmed in his grasp. Instantly, you tried to stand up but you felt a hard kick to your side in retaliation.

“I said ‘stay down!’” the voice behind you said, hissing the words between his teeth before the man holding Jack spoke up.

“The hell’re you doin’?” he demanded, “We was just to get the kid.”

“What? Have her run back into that camp and tell everybody what happened? We’ll have them all on us ‘fore we can even get anythin’ outta this.”

What?

“We ain’t got time for this,” the man in front of you replied, “Take ‘em both.”

You heard Jack let out a cry behind the hand over his mouth, however you didn’t really get the chance to fully process what was happening before you felt a solid hit to the back of your head. Instantly, you heard ringing in your ears, before another hit sent you into darkness.

***

Your head was pounding, feeling the sway of a horse under you as you could feel the strain of your arms tucked behind your back. Blinking open your eyes, you saw the ground under you moving with the quick strides of the horse you were currently slung over the back of. You took in the breath before the events from before flooded into your head, causing you to jerk your head up. You could see passing trees as you were rode down some large pathway, seeing another rider ahead with an arm wrapped around Jack.

Twisting, you tried to see if you could roll off the horse but the tug at your shoulder told you that you were secured to the back of the saddle. Shit, no.

You thought about yelling, screaming, trying to see if anybody would catch on but with how fast they were riding up the path and how empty the area seemed to be, you knew it would only just make things worse.

It wasn’t long before you caught sight of the large structure at the end of the path--a plantation house. You squirmed as they stopped outside the steps, hearing Jack let out a yell as he was pulled from the horse in front of you. The rider of the one you were on the back off slipped off his saddle as the doors to the house opened, your world swaying somewhat as you were pulled to the ground.

You grunted as your face hit the gravel, likely leaving a couple cuts as you grit your teeth against the sharp and familiar headache.

“I told you to only get the boy,” a woman’s voice said from the stairs above you.

“She walked in on us,” you heard the man holding Jack say as you felt a pair of hands grip at your arms, hauling you to your feet. “Guess we’ll have to see what we can do with this one.”

“Damn useless,” the woman replied, your gaze lifting to see her beckon your captors inside. You nearly tripped over your own feet as you were shoved forward, catching the steps before being dragged up them and into the house.

You could hear Jack crying, a part of you wanting nothing more than to comfort the kid but you knew it would be only so fleeting if you didn’t get out of here.

“Bronte’s men are coming within the hour to pick up the boy,” she continued, “I don’t see why they would take her too, but I’ll have to figure something out. Separate them.”

“What the hell does that mean? Who is that?” you demanded, despite yourself, “H-He’s just a little boy! Please!”

“Shut her up,” the woman demanded, sounding much like she was done with the situation as Jack called your name.

“It’s going to be okay, Jack!” you called out as he was carried away from you toward another room. You heard a chuckle behind you, a tug on your arm turning you roughly toward the stairs leading to the upper floors.

“Sure is,” your captor stated, “Boy’s goin’ to Saint Denis, but you? We’ll get you sorted out.”

#my writing.#arthur morgan x reader

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an0nymousghost · 4 years ago

Text

simblr asks v2

here are my answers! find the questions here.

i wrote soo much ahaha. like however much you think i wrote, i wrote more than that. imo everything i write is gold though

1. are you going to buy the new pack (cottage living) when it comes out? no, it looks really nice but i legit never ever buy packs at launch, especially cause this one is a expansion and it will probably go on sale at some point

2. do you p*rate your dlc or buy it legitimately? buy it legitimately 👌

3. what’s your favorite world? brindleton bay, it gives like seaside cottage vibes. willow creek is good but it’s boring.

4. if you use a queue, how many posts per day do you set it as? 3 or 4. i used to do like 12 lmaoo what even was wrong with me

5. do you watch sims on youtube? yes, i watch mainly malixa, oshinsims, and msgryphi

6. what are your thoughts on the most recent pack? (dream home decorator) those sectional couches look good! but honestly im kinda annoyed because now it’s even harder to have all the items filled in when i place lots from the gallery. like i’m just saying like a lot of builds will use that pack probably and if i don’t get it then i can’t really use builds/save files

7. how many packs/kits do you own? lemme count

expansion: all - 10/10 game: 5/10 stuff: 9/18 kits: none xo

24/38 - 63%

8. what’s your origin id? is it the same as your url? 🤗 it’s in my title, it’s celeschul. it doesn’t look that nice in my title but i use celeschul in my package files and i’m guessing people search things like, “celeschul penny hair” or something like that in order to find my cc- so i keep it in there so the search results are easier. i do want to change it though..

but no it’s also not the same! well i mean it’s the username i use for cc. my origin id used to be an0nymousghost but i changed it. i wonder if anyone’s taken that one?

9. is your simblr your sideblog or main blog? main blog ✌️ my old blog @stardze is a main blog as well.

my old old simblr was a sideblog but it had like 1 follower and it literally a bot so i don’t think that counts. i have a multifandom sideblog though

10. do you have a cc finds blog? i wish. i was thinking bout it earlier and that would be sooo neat but sometimes i download stuff that doesn’t have a tumblr post attached to it, and also it’s stressful to keep up with so nah

11. are you wcif friendly? yes sir. in fact i bring the trouble of wcifs onto myself but doing them even when nobody asked.

12. what’s your favorite sized household to play with? (ex. 1 sim, 4 sims) gonna have to think on this one, honestly 1 sim is really fun and stuff goes by so fast. doing stuff with astrid when she was on her own, it was much more efficient.

for families, i haven’t done that in a while actually. 5, 2 parents and 3 kids is cute tho. why did i write this this is honestly such a hard question

13. if you have c&d, do you play with pets? i feel like i haven’t played with cats and dogs in forever. honestly i just have no paitence. noelle fae was supposed to get a cat (there’s a food bowl + cat bed in her house) but when summer vacation started, the amount of time i spent playing ts4 decreased a lot. (this doesn’t really make sense, i have a lot more time. honestly it just has to do with my recent obsession with a certain anime/manga and some other personal thing)

i did random nightmares in may though and i had pets frequently. g5 didn’t because sofia scarlett lived in an apartment, but g2/3/4 had cici, and g1 had all the cats. but that was back in march so it’s been a while.

14. what lifespan do you use? i really want to do aging off but then i feel like it drags on. but aging legit stresses me out, sometimes i just want to sit down and do some cas stuff but i only have 2 hours in real time and there’s like 4 days left till one of my sims’ birthdays.

15. if you own a lot of packs, how many of them have you actually played through? just so everyone is aware this question was made for me

i feel like eps require a specific save made for testing them out, but the only save i’ve ever made for an ep is noelle fae’s get famous save.

that is literally a lie - i made a save for island living with one of my 100bc kids, maisie acapella. i did actually post it on tumblr BUT then i deleted all the posts BUT i reblogged them on my alt account BUT i privated my alt account so i honestly forgot about it

i have never played through discover university or watched anyone do it on youtube, i’ve read gerbits’ story about it so i think i’m pretty qualified. i’ve always wanted to do one with periwinkle acapella but i never got around to it

another ep i know nothing about is get to work

i tried doing a eco life playthrough but i hadn’t watched any videos and i was like..what is going on. so i quit lolx d ;;;;; i mentioned it but the whimsy stories legacy was the first time i had played with the eco lifestyle features so technically i think i know what im doing

i got outdoor retreat literally on monday of this week so i haven’t played through it yet.

jungle adventure i still don’t know what’s going on. i remember last year before i bought the pack i was brainstorming, and wanted to do a ja playthrough with luna and cedar, who are a couple who i did a random legacy with and it was all queued to post when i deleted everything (if you’re wondering why, it’s because my queue was literally 200+ posts). except this time i didn’t save them to my sideblog so i lost them.

i still havent had a restaurant in dine out

also never did the vet thing from cats and dogs

i have no idea what that rock climbing thing is from snowy escape but i did most of the other stuff because rn g5

city living i did through psc stage 5 and also it was the first pack i bought anyways

the rest of them are either stuff packs or i ended up playing them through casual gameplay (seasons, parenthood)

16. what do you do as you play sims? (ex. listen to music) i listen to music most of the time, or listen to commentary youtube videos because i am an alpha chad. i also used to talk with my friends on voice call but i don’t do that anymore 🥲

17. which sims challenges have you tried? random legacy, whimsy stories, perfect sim challenge, 100 baby, legacy (just the plain get-to-10-gens one), random nightmares, berry zodiac, astrology legacy, apocalypse

i feel like im forgetting some.. honestly most of the stuff i did before simblr was either 100 baby (i love that challenge) or random saves that lasted for 2 seconds.

18. do you like the new(ish) hair swatches? nah.

i do appreciate that most cc hairs have a true (ish) black, thank god! and the fact that the hair update is what inspired me to update and fix a bunch of hairs with different issues is pretty nice. but will i use them? no.

plus it takes up like 5 gb? depending on how many packs you have.

19. post the latest screenshot you took 📸

i live in cas

20. what is the cc/ingame hair that looks the most like your own? i think that dream home decorator side part hair looks a lot like my hair. honestly i havent see much like my hair but that one is kinda-? close

21. who is your favorite sim of yours and what is their story? noelle and alari fae i think!

link to post

noelle is blonde and has blue-grey eyes. she wears purple contacts pretty often though (because she wants to 😌)

alari has light brown hair that is kinda curly, and she’s got pretty vibrant blue eyes.

they’re sisters, alari is 3 years older than noelle. noelle was 19 and alari was 22 when they got spotted

they worked as models when they were young adults. their jobs involved dyeing their hair blue/pink, and they would model like clothes and stuff. anyways, they were pretty successful. like not ultra famous but they had enough money to not work for the rest of their lives.

their modeling group was made of 4 girls, the others were named paisley autumn and they were green and red, respectively. some things are:

paisley and alari started dating during this

autumn was a single mother to a little girl named destiny

noelle dated many people during this but never ended up finding the one <3

when their contract ended after like 6 years, paisley and alari went to go live together and noelle decided to get into acting. so thats when get famous playthrough started!

there’s more but basically they’re like oc’s with sims on the side. xoxo

22. if you use cc, are there any cc creators that you have like ALL of their items? this is such a good question! i hoard hair very heavily (my folder is 11gb) i so i have like 97% from most of the popular hair creators.

i think i had legitimately EVERYTHING from simstrouble though, i went through multiple times to check and i also have all of her retired stuff.

i have everything from ridgeport i think-? because of the fact that she uploaded all her stuff in one big zip.

i think that’s it.. for a long time i also had everything by clumsyalienn, but then i ended up deleting it and only keeping my faves.

and looking at my collection, maybe ah00b? i might be missing a couple but i at least have like 99%.

23. what’s one pack you think is underrated? dine out, it’s laggy af yes but it’s such a nice thing for my sims to do.

24. what are your favorite sims stories/legacies? melons by gerbits always and forever

this question was inspired by this ask anyways so

25. if you could change one small thing about ts4, what would it be? most of my suggestions are pretty complex but literally just - when you add tray files, they appear at the top. my life would be so much easier

this took me literal hours to answer

#replies #replying to MYSELF

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thescatterbrainedwriter · 4 years ago

Text

Unexpected Karaoke

Word count: ~4,000

Warnings: none

Pairings: Oc x Cannon (lite)

Flash fanfic

**Note: at this point in time, none of team Flash know what Estrata’s real name is. Estrata = Emily. Also, Emily is my personal character. I just like to stick her in places 😅 Enjoy!! 🥔 🎨

——

Two weeks, only about two weeks had passed since the enlightenment was halted and Harrison was given his basic mind back. While he wasn’t the easiest person to deal with he cared deeply for the Team Flash of Earth 1, it just happened to be buried under layers of grump and grief and worry. It was so buried in fact, Emily couldn’t really believe she had taken a liking to him. Everyone was devastated when they heard what was happening to his mind because of the thinking cap, and everyone was equally ecstatic when Marlize was able to restore it, but Emily underestimated how much it affected her. Which is probably how she found herself in this predicament.

The last time Jessie had payed Earth 1 a visit, Emily gave her a subspace communication relay in order to contact the Lab on Earth 1 easier. It was able to link up to the coms to both her personal headset and the coms in the cortex, something she discovered was possible by accident when Thawn was masquerading as Dr. Wells. With this new avenue opened, they were able to keep tabs on the reconstruction of Earth 2 after Zoom and Jessie could ask Barry questions if needed without breaching. It also meant Emily could call Jessie and vice versa whenever the opportunity struck them, and the opportunity that presented itself to Emily had her debating wether or not to call.

Secluding herself in her accommodation room, she paced around. The constant mental back and forth had caused her heart rate to increase due to self imposed stress and indecision. It would be totally understandable to call and ask how he’s doing, given what he went through recently, she told herself. Besides, I’m sure the rest of the team would like a status update. We all got attached to him after all, I could even ask how the reconstruction was going, or how Jessie is doing. I’m sure it’s been hard on her too. She paused, turned on her heels, and reversed the circle she was walking in. No, no, I don’t want to bother her. I’m sure she’s busy with her own responsibilities. I don’t want to come off as clingy either, she contradicted herself. But I’m sure he’ll appreciate the fact we’re all thinking about him and checking in to see how he’s doing, she said reversing the circle again. Ugh, but what if.....what if the constant checks are irritating to him? It’s only been 11 days and he’s gotten 5 check in calls already. Then again, some of those check ins were about the reconstruction and Jessie, he just happened to be in the background. She smiled remembering one call where he managed to push Jessie out of frame a took it over, and another where he claimed to have borrowed the relay just to say hi. I’ll have to build him his own, that way Jessie won’t have to share, or at the very least have it stolen again. Yes, I think I’ll do that.

Having made up her mind and deciding not to call, she headed toward Cisco’s lab to see if she could find equivalent parts to the relay she already made for Jessie. She hadn’t even made it two steps toward the door when her earpiece chimed. Calling up the accompanying hud screen she was surprised to see Jessie calling. “Oh, Jessie hey! Believe it or not I was debating on if I should call you or not. What a coincidence.”

“Yeah, how ‘bout that,” Jessie replied with a smile. “I was just calling to see how things were going there. Anything exciting?”

“No, not really. Just, you know, meeting Barry and Iris’ daughter. Their future daughter.”

“Wait, what??” Jessie near yelled. “Future daughter? How??”

“Turns out she’s a little speedster herself,” Emily replied with a shrug.

“Wha— well actually that doesn’t surprise me, honestly.” They both laughed in unison before Emily paused. “Well, since you’re already on call,” she started, “how’s your dad? Is he still improving?”

“Uhhh, yeah,” Jessie replied looking around what looked like the living room behind her. “Yeah, he’s starting to be his old brainy self again.”

“Jessie? Is that you? Who are you talking to?” Emily heard a voice echo from somewhere behind the girl. “Yeah, it’s just me,” Jessie responded yelling off screen. “It’s Estrata, she was wondering how you were doing.”

“Estrata?” Harry repeated now sounding closer. “Hey, hey!” Harry greeted barging his way into frame. “Hi, what’s up?” Emily chuckled as Jessie groaned in protest at the intrusion. “Dad, c’mon really?”

“Harry, really. Give her some space, you’re practically melding your face into hers.”

“Oh come one, she loves this,” he teased rubbing his cheek against hers. “See?”

“Uuuugh, dad! Stop that!” Jessie complained pushing him away. “Honestly, I don’t know which version of you is more annoying.”

“Aww, he just loves you is all,” Emily teased with a chuckle.

“Oh not you too!” She whined with a laugh.

“So, you calling to check on me again?” Harry asked with a smile.

“Oh no, actually I was the one who called her,” Jessie replied. “Figured I’d be the one to check in for a change.”

“Oh, I see,” Harry said a little sad.

“She was debating on calling though,” she added with a smirk. Harry looked at her, then Emily. “Oh? You were? Why didn’t you?”

“I....didn’t want to seem like I was bothering you,” she explained. “It’s only been about 2 weeks and you’ve had so many calls already and—“

“Estrata,” he interjected, “it’s ok. Really. You guys are like family, and family makes sure everyone’s ok.”

*Yeah, family...* Emily thought to herself. *We’re family, not more.* “Well, since you seem to be well on your way to mending, and Jessie, you seem to be holding up pretty well along with Earth 2, I’m gonna go. I have a project planned and have yet to start.”

“Oh hey, wait!” Harry cut in nearly shoving Jessie out if the way again as he leaned over the back of the couch. “You had, wanted to, uh, see Earth 2 right?”

“Uh, yeah? Why?”

“Well, reconstruction is, as you said, going well, and while it may not look like— much like how it was before, it uh, it would be. Well it would be a good opportunity to come and, uh, see things. If-if you still wanted to, that is. I could even show you around, if yooouuu wanted.”

Emily paused with a small smile as he rambled and was amused with how he seemed to get flustered by the end of it. The pause seemed to make him more nervous as he darted his eyes toward Jessie. “Jessie could come too, if you wanted. You’re ok with that right?”

“Uh yeah, yeah sure. I, would actually love that.”

“See, she would love it. So, what do you think?” Harry asked with a hint of excitement.

“Ok, alright. You’ve convinced me,” Emily chuckled. “When would be a good day?”

Harry froze clearly not having thought this far, maybe not even thinking this conversation would even happen in the first place. “Toooooomorrow would probably be a good fit,” Jessie offered noting his brain freeze. “I can get the night off from being Jessie Quick, Dad’s taking fewer hours at the lab and by the sounds of things, you have one extra hand to help with whatever meta comes up. You should be able to get away for a night, right.”

Harry watched the screen in anticipation as Emily considered the points. “Yeah, ok.” She finally said with a smile. “I’ll tell them I’ll be gone tomorrow night. What time did you want to start the tour?”

“6:30?” Harry postulated looking at Jessie for confirmation. “That works for me,” she confirmed. “Hmmmm, yeah I think I can swing that,” Emily confirmed as well. “Please keep in mind though, it’s possible I’ll be late. We’re trying to find a particularly difficult meta, one that’s killing other metas. So it might get, well, a little dicey. I’ll call if I have to cancel, alright?” Harry and Jessie both stared at her with blank expressions. “You, uh, failed to mention that point of excitement,” Jessie said.

“Oh, I did?” Emily asked obliviously.

“Uh huh, yeah. You did. You only mentioned Barry and Iris’ daughter, by the way what was her name?”

“Wait, they have a daughter?” Harry asked with the news. “Future daughter,” Jessie answered. Harry sighed bowing his head. “Of course there’s time travel involved.....”

“Nora,” Emily answered. “Nora West-Alan after Barry’s mom. She also decided to follow in Barry’s footsteps by becoming a CSI.”

“I don’t think I could expect anything less,” Harry commented.

“Alright, so we’ll expect you by 6:30 but will plan for delays. Sound cool?” Jessie said getting the conversation back on track. Harry and Emily nodded in agreement. “Yes, that sounds like a plan,” Emily confirmed.

“Alright, I’ll— we’ll, see you tomorrow,” Harry said with an awkward smile. “Oh and, please. Be careful, with the, the murder, meta.” Emily smiled back with a wide grin. “I’m always careful, don’t you worry,” she said waving goodbye before Jessie ended the call. She stood dwelling on the conversation for a while before she continued toward Cisco’s lab, what better opportunity to deliver him his own relay than when she went to visit.

——

Shortly after Weather Witch was apprehended and her weather vein turned in, Emily hung around the cortex and waited for team to come back thinking of how to say what she needed to say. Once everyone was present she decided to just go for it. “Hey, guys?” They paused turning their attention to her. “I’m uh, I’m not gonna be available, tonight. I have plans.”

“What kind of plans?” Barry asked curiously. She never had plans and usually hung around the lab all the time. “I uhm, I am going to Earth 2.” Emily replied.

“Is everything ok over there?” Barry asked somewhat concerned.

“Oh yeah yeah,” Emily assured. “I was just invited to a tour around.”

“Really? A tour?” Barry asked sadly. Emily giggled. “Yeah, I had mentioned in passing that I wanted to see Earth 2 seeing as it’s so different and Harry said it was a pretty good time to see it since everything is relatively quiet now.”

“Harry invited you?” Cisco asked raising an eyebrow.

“Him and Jessie. She actually set up the time.” Cisco smiled. “Oh ok. She was the one who set up the time.”

Emily squinted at him. “....yes....? Anyway, I won’t be able to help with Cicada, but with Nora here I doubt you’ll miss me much.”

“You gonna need me to open a breach?” Cisco asked.

“No, Harry has that covered. Thanks though.” Cisco pouted having wanted to witness the potential awkwardness. “Alright, well, I’m gonna go get ready to leave. Behave and, don’t hurt yourselves too badly, alright?”

“Can’t promise you anything,” Barry said with a smile.

“We’ll make sure he’s safe. For the most part anyway,” Cisco adds. Emily smiles with a nod before exiting to start preparations to travel to Earth 2. As she was leaving Cisco’s lab having picked up some spare parts for Harry to repair his relay if needed, Nora came across her. “Oh, hey Estrata! What cha doin?”

“Oh, Nora!” she said in surprise. “Hey! I uh, I’m just. Uhhh.....” Emily paused trying to think of how to put it. “I’m going to Earth 2 for a tour with Harry and Jessie.”

“Like a date?” Nora asked.

“Erm, n-no. Not a date,” Emily stuttered suddenly nervous about such prospect. “No, with the reconstruction after Zoom well on its way, and I think near completion at this point, Harry said it was a good opportunity for me to get a good look around. I’ve wanted to see things since my first accidental visit.”

“Accidental visit?” Nora said quizzically. “What do you mean by accidental?”

“Well, you see, I’m able to make personalized wormholes to get to and from different points faster. Usually I’m able to use them without issue but, recently I’ve been ‘Earth hopping’ and somehow managing to travel to Earths in different multiverses. In this case I managed to stay in this particular one.” Nora stared at her trying to compute what she was just told. “Soooo, kinda like how my dad uses the speed force to go to other Earths?” Emily paused to consider the comparison. “Yeah, kinda. Just, with more room for unforeseen world travel. The way I do it can be wildly inaccurate.”

“Sounds pretty scary,” Nora commented.

Emily shrugged. “I was terrified the first time it happened, but now I’m pretty used to it, if not a little annoyed,” she sighed with a smile. “I’m ready to go home, but the places I’ve landed and people I’ve met have made me less homesick.”

“Hope I’m one of those people,” Nora smiled.

“Yes, yes you are,” Emily confirmed making her smile wider. “I can confidently say I’ve not met anyone like you in all my travels.”

“So how many other Earths have you gone to?”

Emily paused to think. “Hmmm, looks like......7 at the very least. Not including multiverse Earths.” Nora’s eyes grew wide in awe at the number. “Wow....” she whispered making Emily chuckle. “Ok, well, I have to finish getting ready. Could you try helping Cisco keep your father safe while I’m gone for the night?”

“Oh? All night?” Nora asked mischievously. Emily’s face dropped unenthusiastically and gave her a look. “No,” she said plainly. “Not for that.” Nora just smiled. “Ok, whatever you say.” Emily huffed before heading off to change. She wanted to see if she could blend in and not stand out so much and decided on straight brown pants, a green blouse, and some flats. She stood looking in the mirror wondering if this was too much before taking a breath deciding to forget thinking about it too deeply and left for the breach room.

On her way down one of her drones who were free roaming followed her whirring in curiosity asking what she was doing. “Oh, hey GP. Where? I’m going to Earth 2.” The drone whirred again in concern. “I’ll be ok. I promise. It’ll just be for a few hours,” she said only managing a few steps before the drone was in her face again rambling on about its concerns. She chuckled grabbing it gently with both hands, similar to cupping someone’s face, and smiled softly. “Is this your way of saying you wanna come too?” It made what sounded like a sheepish admittance sound making her giggle. “Ok, fine. You can come too. But we have to hurry, it’s almost time to go.” Just as she entered the breach room a connection forms and Harry appears. Emily smiled and waved, Harry returning the gesture with an awkward smile. “Ready?” He asked. Emily nodded enthusiastically. “Yes!”

He extended a hand toward the breach ushering her in first, Emily bowed with a smile before jumping through with Harry right behind. Jessie greeted them on the other side with a smile. “Hey Es!” She said with a wave. “Welcome back to Earth 2!”

“Hey Jessie!” Emily replied. “Long time no see! In person anyway.” Jessie laughed in agreement as Harry popped back through and the breach closed once again. “Alright, lets get going,” Harry said ushering them both out. “I suppose we’ll start with the Lab, it’s been refurbished since you last crashed in.”

“Alright,” Emily agreed. She had only seen the lobby last time and, while she didn’t expect many differences, she still wanted to see the rest of it. Since they were on one of the lowest levels, they stopped at the pipeline first. It wasn’t quite as repaired as on Earth 1, this Earth didn’t have an Eobard to repair it for his personal use, but it was a bit more than just run down. Walking onto the gangway inside, Emily was still filled with awe at the large structure even if it looked mostly like the one she was well aware of. “Can I take a look all the way around?” Emily asked already floating a few inches off the ground. Harry sighed recognizing she was asking out of courtesy and would investigate one way or another and nodded with a smile. “Sure, have at it.”

“I’ll race ya!” Jessie exclaimed before taking off. “No, wait, Jes—“ Harry began before cutting off his sentence as Emily took off after her. Jessie makes it back first with Emily close behind, the latter crashing into the former sending them to the bottom of the pipeline a few feet below. They erupt into laughter with Harry trying not to loose his cool resorting to just looking over the edge. “Are you two ok? Are you done?” He called down. Emily pops back up, Jessie in tow, with both confirming they were fine. Placing Jessie back onto the gangplank, Emily makes her way back around, albeit slower this time, and takes her time looking at the construction. It took 20 minutes but she eventually came back around, floating parallel to the ground facing the ceiling.

“Satisfied?” Harry asked when she stopped above the gangplank again. Still upside down, Emily looked over with a smile and nodded. “Yes, I think my curiosity is sated for now.” Harry’s heart fluttered for a moment at her smile and he couldn’t help mirroring it before reaching out a hand to her to escort her back in. Flipping around Emily landed and took his hand, Jessie watching the exchange with amused curiosity and following silently behind with a smirk playing at her lips.

Labs, offices, even just hallways, Emily looked over them all with wide hungry eyes. Harry didn’t understand but found it amusing how inquisitive she became. “This your office?” She asked after a while pointing into a relatively large room with a desk, chairs, coffee table and a medium sized couch. “Uh, yeah. Yeah that’s mine,” Harry responded as she wandered in. “Hmmm, you know. Come to think of it....” Emily said looking around. “I’m not sure Harrison Wells of Earth 1 had an office. None that I remember seeing anyway.” She paused. “Unless you count the time vault, but it looked like a futuristic closet more than an office. But who knows, maybe that’s how future offices look....” She turns and smiles wide. “I like the aesthetic of your office much better.”

“Aannnd what about it do you like?” He asked following her in. She shrugs looking around again. “I dunno, just pleasing to the eye.” Harry’s gaze lingered on her as she continued looking around before he realized what he was doing and snapped himself back. “Ahem, shall we see the rest of the city now then?” He asked trying to distract himself. “Yeah sure!” Emily says with a smile. Harry’s heart skipped but he kept his composure enough to turn around and lead her and Jessie out of the Lab. Jessie continued to watch amused, even more so at the fact Emily seemed oblivious. She trailed behind them as they continued walking around the city, watching in amusement at their interactions. Emily would pay close attention to what Harry was saying or point out, Harry seemed to get more expressive as he got more comfortable, they even seemed to walk closer to each other becoming more comfortable with each other’s presence.

“So, what do you think so far?” She asked Emily linking her arm around hers. Surprised, Emily paused before smiling at her and placing her free hand on Jessie’s. “This is amazing!”

“Yeah, my dad is pretty great huh?” Jessie asks with a grin. Emily trips having been caught off guard by the unexpected implication of the question. “I... wha...” She glances over at Harry, who had shot a look over at Jessie, and tries not to blush as she searches for what to say. “Well, I mean.... least he’s not grumpy anymore.” Jessie giggles and Harry huffs. “And he does know how to be very detailed,” she continued. “I’m honestly surprised how emotive he became explaining everything.”

“I can be enthusiastic,” Harry near pouted.

“Everyone *can* be enthusiastic, it’s just surprising *you* managed it. Given your past interactions, can you blame me for not believing?” Emily asked. Harry paused before shrugging. “Alright, I’ll give you that one,” he relented. Emily smiled before looking down at her feet while they walked, Harry doing the same, and they continued in awkward silence until Jessie spotted Jitters near by. How fortunate they were walking by at that moment, and it seemed they had a new venue featured. “Hey,” Jessie piped up, “why don’t we stop into Jitters for a bit? I could use a coffee or something.”

Harry looked over at the newly repaired bistro and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. What do you think Estrata?” Emily noticed the ad for the featured venue and pursed her lips with a pause. She had a tingling that Jessie was trying to fenangle something sneaky but nodded in agreement anyway. “Yeah, sure. Good idea, Jessie,” she said emphasizing the name with a suspicious squint her way. Jessie just smiled and pulled her along with Harry following close behind. “Oh? Open mic?” Harry observed quickly reading the sign. “That’s different.”

“Yeah....” Emily said eyeing Jessie again. “Quite the coincidence we happened to walk by as they were featuring such a thing. Huh, Jessie?”

“Yeah, I mean what are the odds?” Jessie tried to dismiss. “Hey, didn’t you say you like to sing in your free time? You should sing something!” Emily crossed her arms looking unamused. “Subtle....”

“Hey yeah,” Harry agreed. “Yeah, that’s a good idea Jessie,” he grinned at her, Jessie doing the same. “I’ll go get some coffee,” she said briskly walking to the counter. “He—wha—“ Emily stuttered trying to counter. “Ok, c’mon,” Harry said ushering Emily toward the back of the shoppe to sign her up. “Wai— n— “ Emily protests trying to switch gears. “Harry, no, please, I don’t— I don’t sing in public. Harry no, do—“ she cut her protests short in an effort to act natural when they met with the open mic organizer. “Hey,” Harry said with a smile. “Hi,” Emily added trying to compose herself. “Hey folks,” the man said with a smile. “Can I help you with sumt’n?”

“Yes! Yes, you can,” Harry quickly answers cutting Emily off before she could try weaseling out. The man raised an eyebrow suspiciously noting Emily’s nervous face and Harry’s overzealous behavior. “And in what way?” He asked cautiously.

“She would..... like to.... to.... sign up for the op—en mic. Thing....” Harry said amid Emily trying to cover his face with her hand as he spoke. The man still didn’t look convinced and darted a look between them. “She sings,” Harry assured. “I sing as a hobby,” Emily clarified. “And not in front of people!”

“Well lucky for you we’re open to all skill levels,” the man said with a smile. “And it looks like you’re the only one who was interested so far. I’ll put you at the top of the list, I just need a name.” Emily gave a long sigh and stared at Harry, who just smiled tilting his head encouragingly at the man, before begrudgingly answering. “You can put down Estrata.”

“Ah, what a unique name,” he commented scribbling it down. “We’ll be calling you up momentarily. We’re just waiting to see if anyone else is interested, but it’s looking like you’re the only one. For now anyway.” Harry smiled at Emily who just resorted to glare at him. “Hey have fun,” Harry said turning and briskly walking away and toward Jessie. “I don’t like you anymore,” Emily teased. “You’ll do great,” Harry assured with a wink causing Emily to just roll her eyes. All she could do was watch as Harry met back up with Jessie and they both took a seat to wait for things to start. They both grinned over at her and Emily just half smiled and chuckled shaking her head. “Walking migraines, both of them,” she muttered.

After a few more minutes of anxious waiting, the man greeted Emily again. “Looks like it’s your lucky night,” he said cheerfully. “No one else has signed up so you get the floor all to yourself.” Emily puffed her cheeks and sighed. “Well, maybe after I sing once, someone else will come up,” she wondered aloud. “May well be the case,” the man agreed before walking over to the mic. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank y’all for coming out to C. C. Jitters. Tonight, we’re gonna be trying something a little different, just to see what y’all think.” He smiled waving his hand toward Emily who stiffened out of anxiety. “We have a lovely young lady by the name of Estrata who has graciously agreed to sing for y’all tonight to get this open mic going. So please, don’t leave her all alone up here. If you like what you hear and want to join in and try your hand at it, feel free to step on up.” The man turned and smiled at Emily motioning toward the mic indicating she was free to start. “Just so you’re aware, I’m not a lounge singer in any capacity.” Emily warned. The man just smiled figuring she was trying to find an excuse to leave. “Give ‘em whatever it is you’ve got.”

Emily gave a nervous smile and cautiously made her way to the mic, it had been quite a while since she had done something like this so she was worried she would mess up somehow. “Aaaand I’ve suddenly forgotten every song I ever knew....” she muttered to herself. She looked around in a mild panic before realizing no one was really paying her much mind, Harry and Jessie excluded. “Right, right, lounge singers were somewhat like background singers.” GP popped up next to her and buzzed quizzically. “I dunno what to sing,” Emily hoarsely whispered covering the mic. GP buzzed again with a suggestion and Emily smiled. “Ah, how could I forget that one?”

“Aww, she’s nervous,” Jessie smiled observing Emily standing awkwardly. “She always seems so care free, this is actually really..... adorable.”

“Yeah....” Harry agreed absentmindedly with a smile. Jessie raised an eyebrow peeking over at him. “What was that?” Harry paused before burying his face into his coffee and mumbled something trying to dismiss her inquiry. She just smirked going back to sipping her own coffee and turned her attention back to Emily.

Emily took a deep breath and looked into the audience. Most were still not paying attention but she didn’t care, she’d sing one song and go. Just one. “I.... apologize in advance,” she said to the handful of people watching. “I’m a little rusty, and not a lounge singer so, here goes nothing....” she nodded to GP who started playing the music part of the song and she tentatively started.

* You light the skies, up above me*

*A star, so bright, you blind me, yeah*

*Don't close your eyes*

*Don't fade away, don't fade away, oh*

*Yeah, you and me, we can ride on a star*

*If you stay with me, girl*

*We can rule the world*

*Yeah, you and me, we can light up the sky*

*If you stay by my side*

*We can rule the world*

Her voice cracked and wavered every now and then and her posture was stiff. She felt the same as when she sang at her high school talent show and kept her eyes closed to stave off the panic seeded in the pit of her stomach.

*If walls break down, I will comfort you*

*If angels cry, oh I'll be there for you*

*You've saved my soul*

*Don't leave me now, don't leave me now, oh*

*Yeah, you and me, we can ride on a star*

*If you stay with me, girl*

*We can rule the world*

*Yeah, you and me, we can light up the sky*

*If you stay by my side*

*We can rule the world*

*Oh, all the stars are coming out tonight*

*They're lighting up the sky tonight*

*For you, for you*

*All the stars are coming out tonight*

*They're lighting up the sky tonight*

*For you, for you, oh*

She was still stiff but Harry could tell she was getting more comfortable. He saw her becoming more emotive, even just a little, and started putting some emotion into the lyrics. He smiled nearly forgetting about his coffee, Jessie smirked over at him and continued to sip her coffee acting as though she didn’t see.

* Yeah, you and me, we can ride on a star*

*If you stay with me, girl*

*We can rule the world*

*Yeah, you and me, we can light up the sky*

*If you stay by my side*

*We can rule the world*

*All the stars are coming out tonight*

*They're lighting up the sky tonight*

*For you, for you*

Getting a bit braver, Emily opened her eyes and smiled awkwardly as the new number of people watching, her ears got red when she realized Harry was watching quite close making her voice crack again. She griped the microphone pole tight to ground her so she wouldn’t loose composure as she closed out the song.

*All the stars are coming out tonight*

*They're lighting up the sky tonight*

*For you, for you*

*All the stars are coming out tonight*

*They're lighting up the sky tonight*

*For you, for you*

*All the stars are coming out tonight*

*They're lighting up the sky tonight*

*For you, for you*

Emily let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and bowed her head a little to signal the end of the song. A few people in the crowd clapped and praised her singing making her smile wide. “Oh, thank you!” she said bowing again. “I’m glad you liked it!”

“Sing another one!” Jessie yelled from the back.

“What?” Emily asked mildly panicking. It grew into a flush when she heard a few other people ask for another as well. “I.... uh...... hmmm....”

“C’mon, that was great! Pleeeease?” Jessie pleaded. Emily glanced over at Harry who had averted his gaze to closely examine a near by wall as he sipped his coffee that was somehow not yet empty. Emily sighed and rolled her head. “Ok, alright. Fine, one more. I’ll give you one more.”

“So, what would you little maniacs like to do first?” She asked after a pause to no one in particular placing her hands on her hips and wiggling her eyebrows as she started again. GP happily started the music moving in what could be interpreted as amusement.

*Watching through my fingers, watching through my fingers*

*Shut my eyes and count to ten*

*It goes in one ear out the other, one ear out the other*

*Burning bright right till the end*

*Now you'll be missing from the photographs, missing from the photographs*

* Watching through my fingers, watching through my fingers*

*In my thoughts you're far away*

*And you are whistling the melody, whistling the melody*

*Crystallizing clear as day*

*Oh, I can picture you so easily, picture you so easily*

*What’s gonna be left of the world if you’re not in it*

*What's gonna be left of the world, oh*

Feeling far more comfortable than before, she began acting out some of the lyrics and danced a bit in place. Harry even noticed she was smiling more, mainly at GP as he flew around her.

*Every minute and every hour*

*I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more*

*Every stumble and each misfire*

*I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more*

*Watching through my fingers, watching through my fingers*

*Caught off guard by your favourite song*

*I'll be dancing at a funeral, dancing at a funeral*

*Sleeping in the clothes you love*

*It's such a shame we had to see them burn, shame we had to see them burn*

*What's gonna be left of the world if you're not in it*

*What's gonna be left of the world, oh*

*Every minute and every hour*

*I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more*

*Every stumble and each misfire*

*I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more*

Emily paused and changed her posture to be a bit more composed. "If you want to be a party animal, you have to learn to live in the jungle. Now stop worrying and go get dressed,” she spoke, though somewhat exaggerated, before continuing singing.

*You might have to excuse me*

*I've lost control of all my senses*

*And you might have to excuse me*

*I've lost control of all my words*

*So get drunk, call me a fool*

*Put me in my place, put me in my place*

*Pick me up, up off the floor*

*Put me in my place, put me in my place*

A sudden small jolt of confidence and mischief prompted Emily to grip the mic and look into the crowd with a challenging look, amusement pulled at her lips every time she sang ‘put me in my place’ and her gaze swept the room ending in a wink.

*Every minute and every hour*

*I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more*

*Every stumble and each misfire*

*I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more*

*Watching through my fingers, watching through my fingers*

*'Cause every minute and every hour*

*I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more*

She smiled and giggled when the song ended, she had the attention of most of the room now and the applause was much louder this time around. She bowed again and attempted to leave when the crowd protested again. “No no,” Emily dismissed. “No, I’m— I was in the middle of.... something. I should get back to that. The.... thing....”

“Oh c’mon,” Harry called out. “You can do one more.” Jessie’s eyes grew wide in surprise as she looked over at her dad, his arms were crossed over his chest and he had a sly smirk threatening to spread over his face. She smiled and giggled turning to look at Emily, who was just as surprised, before chiming in. “Yeah, one more! Please?”

“Yeah, please?” a young woman called from another near by table. Emily recognized her and her two friends as the ones who hung around her table whenever she visited the shoppe on her accidental trip a while ago. She smiled awkwardly and chuckled nervously as her face became rather rosy. “Alright, alright. One more, but this is the last one!” The room cheered and clapped as they waited in anticipation. She gave a long sigh into the mic and gave a stern look at Harry. “You see, Harry, this is why I don’t sing in public,” she said with her mouth close to the mic. Harry just grinned with a chuckle. Emily sighed with a growl preparing for what she hoped to be her last number.

* Sometimes you need a reason*

*A little love you can't believe in*

*A little hug, a little day dreaming*

*Apparently there's some correlation*

*Between hearts and outer space*

*All I'm really trying to say is*

*That I'm just a Sagittarius and we're kind of spontaneous*

*So let's fly out to Vegas and find an Elvis to marry us*

*Don't try to argue with the moon*

*We can blame it on the stars*

*Oh, come on let your heart just breathe*

*Stars, oh, come one let your guard down*

*And we can blame it on the stars*

Having accepted the fact she wasn’t going anywhere any time soon, Emily decided to dance along while she sang as GP flew around adding to the up beat mood. Harry watched happily as she slid back into her carefree personality, Jessie also amused by the shift in behavior so quickly although more so with her father encouraging the events and enjoying himself.

* We'd like to think that we're waiting*

*On a previous reservation*

*It's all written in the constellations*

*Now I don't know, but neither do you*

*Truth is, it's a good excuse*

*For both our hearts to let loose*

*And I know that you're a Cancer*

*Which means you like holding hands*

*So show me how to do this dance*

*And spin me like a ceiling fan, oh*

*Don't try to argue with the moon*

*We can blame it on the stars*

*Oh, come on let your heart just breathe*

*Stars, oh come one let your guard down*

*And we can blame it on the stars*

* I read your horoscope*

*And baby you should know*

*Just what your future holds*

*Let your hips move*

*Let my fingers find you*

*Wrap my arms around you, here we go*

*Stars, oh, come on let your heart just breathe*

*Stars, the stars, stars*

*We can blame it on the stars*

*Oh, come on let your heart just breathe*

*Stars, oh, come one let your guard down*

And we can blame it on the stars*

*We can blame it on the stars*

~~~~

So I miss judged the length of this one and had to break it up. It’s juuuuust over the post limit. Stay tuned for part twwoooo 🥔🎨

#harry wells #harrison wells #the flash #flash fiction #fan fiction #oc x canon #my ocs #funny #nora west allen #barry allen

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violetwolfraven · 5 years ago

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Pass Out

38 for sprace—requested by @just-a-gay-meme

I’m injured and I came to you because I didn’t want to tell my mom/Jack/whoever.

((So I guess this would be canon era, pre-strike when Race was selling at Sheepshead, so he and Spot did know each other, but they aren’t really even friends yet. It’s not the same universe as the one fic I’ve written with her in it, but it includes one of my ocs. Don’t worry, you didn’t forget about her. Bluebird just isn’t canon.))

...

Race would normally not be confused by the fact that he was waking up in a Lodging House, but today, he had an excuse, because he was waking up in the Brooklyn Lodging House.

“Well, well, well,” a voice said, and Race jumped, “He lives.”

There was a little girl sitting by his bed, holding a bowl and a wet washcloth that was suspiciously red, and Race didn’t think it was because that was Brooklyn’s territory color.

And Race was only 15, but this girl couldn’t be any older than maybe 10, so he got to call her a little girl, even though, as was visible because she was wearing one of Brooklyn’s signature red tanktops, she was probably stronger than he was. She had features kind of similar to Romeo, with black hair and brown eyes, so Race guessed she was Asian, or at least one of her parents was.

“What the fuck?” Race mumbled under his breath.

“Oh, no,” the little girl said, sounding genuinely concerned, “How hard did you get hit? How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three,” Race said, because she clearly was.

“Hmm...” the little girl tilted her head as she put her hand down, “Do ya remember how you got here?”

“Brooklyn Lodging House? No. Got no clue. What the fuck am I doin’ here?”

“You got your ass kicked,” the little girl said flatly, “At least, I think ya did. You kinda just showed up, asked for help, and passed out. That was two hours ago.”

“Thanks,” Race said, “Um... what was your name again?”

“Bluebird. Ya didn’t know it in the first place. You’re Racetrack Higgins, right? The ‘Hattan boy Spot lets sell at Sheepshead?”

Race shrugged sitting up halfway and leaning back on his elbows, “The one and only.”

Bluebird wrinkled her nose, “No wonder ya got your ass kicked. All you Manhattan boys can’t fight to save your lives.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true! Manhattan’s probably the—“

“Blue.”

Bluebird looked at the floor as Spot called to her from the doorway.

Race sat up all the way as Brooklyn’s King walked over, putting his hand on the little girl’s shoulder.

“What did we say ‘bout antagonizin’ people for no reason?” Spot asked.

“To not to,” Bluebird mumbled.

“You’s a big girl, now, right, Blue? Your cute factor ain’t gonna get you out of fights much longer. Ya gotta learn not to pick fights you can’t win.”

“Bet I could win against him.”

Race laughed, “She’s probably right.”

“Maybe,” Spot reasoned, “But, Blue, appearances can be deceivin’. Race, here, happens to be really good at makin’ friends. Which means he has friends in every borough, this one included. Half the Newsies of New York’d go to war to defend him, so in short, Racetrack Higgins is either a good friend to have or a bad enemy. Take your pick.”

Bluebird snuck a glance at Race, “I’d rather be friends.”

Race smiled, “I’d rather be friends with you, too, kid.”

She smiled at him, and Race didn’t at all see what Spot meant. She wasn’t losing her cute factor. She probably wouldn’t for a couple more years.

“Run along, Bluebird,” Spot said, “I think Hotshot’s waitin’ for ya.”

“I’m sellin’ with Rafaela today!”

“Raf’s... busy. Go find Hotshot.”

“Okay!”

Bluebird hiked up her skirt to run faster, and Race laughed.

“So, I’m guessin’ I know what you meant by busy?”

Spot shrugged, “Yeah, she’s got a sweetheart, but I don’t know who it is. I’m pretty sure it’s either York or Joey, but Raf ain’t the talkative type, so I don’t know which. She asked me to watch Blue this afternoon, but I don’t need a little frontin’ for me.”

“And Hotshot does?”

“He’s an intimidatin’ lookin’ kid. He probably don’t need her, but with winter comin’ up, I’d rather be safe.”

Race nodded, then winced as that hurt, “That makes sense.”

Spot stood there silently for a couple seconds, then asked.

“So, what happened?”

Race shrugged, “Wish I knew. Thinkin’ back, it’s all kind of fuzzy.”

“There’s been some thugs ‘round Brooklyn lately, thinkin’ it’s funny to beat up on workin’ kids,” Spot muttered, “They targeted my kids at first, but learned to avoid us when we soaked them instead. I probably should have sent someone over to warn ya. Bluebird’s right. Only one of you Manhattan boys who can fight good is Cowboy.”

Race decided to ignore that last comment, “I don’t think I got soaked.”

“Hmm. You’re probably right. It’s just the one head wound, right? Nothin’ else hurts?”

Race shrugged, “It hurts to breathe a little, but...”

He looked down his own shirt to check.

“Not that many bruises.”

“I should check for broken ribs, anyway.”

Race honestly didn’t know what to think as Spot Conlon, the King of Brooklyn, sat down on the edge of the bed Race was still sitting on, putting up one hand.

“Can I? I know what I’m doin’.”

“I’m sure ya do,” Race admitted, knowing Brooklyn’s reputation for getting in fights with local gangs, other boroughs, even each other.

Of course, his mind was hyper-focused on the fact that Spot wasn’t known for being friendly, and he also happened to be less than a year older than Race.

He was kind of attractive. If Race was the type to go for badasses, he would be very flustered right now, which... he wasn’t. He totally wasn’t even a little flustered by this.

In the end, Race nodded, “You can check, but I’m pretty sure nothin’s broken.”

“Okay. Tell me what hurts.”

Spot gently put his hand against Race’s lower ribs, slowly increasing pressure before moving up, then checking the other side. And sure, it twinged in some places, but nothing hurt enough to actually be broken.

“Why’re you helpin’ me?” Race asked as Spot finished up.

The other boy shrugged, “Ya ain’t one of mine, Higgins, but you sell in Brooklyn. That makes ya at least partly my responsibility.”

Race wanted to protest that—he was one of Jack’s seconds, for fuck’s sake—but Spot was still talking.

“Also, that head wound wasn’t so bad that ya forgot what borough you’re from. If you really wanted to go back to ‘Hattan, you at least would’ve tried. Probably gotten run over on the way, but you’d have tried. Ya came here. Judgin’ by what little I know... you’s close with Kelly, right?”

Race nodded, “He’s like a big brother to me.”

Spot shrugged, “There ya go. Winter’s rough on every leader who actually cares about their kids, and it’s comin’ up fast. Jackie Boy’s probably stressed enough as it is, makin’ sure everyone sells as much as they can before it gets really hard, and ya didn’t want to worry him. So, you came here instead of goin’ home.”

Honestly, that sounded about right. Race still didn’t remember everything, but not going home when hurt so as not to worry Jack sounded like something he’d do.

“Well, that explains what I’m doin’ here,” he admitted, “But it doesn’t explain why ya actually helped.”

“Like I said, you’s partially my responsibility.”

“Bullshit. I’m Manhattan and you know it. Hell, I’m second in command along with Crutchie. Ya didn’t have to help me beyond makin’ sure I don’t die on your doorstep, so why? Do ya just want me to owe you a favor?”

Spot shrugged, not looking Race in the eye, “I might collect a favor later, but that ain’t why I did it.”

“Then why?”

They locked eyes, and Race could see that he was being completely serious.

“Genuinely nice people are few and far between. Bluebird ain’t the only one who’d like to be friends with you.”

Race smiled, “Well, if ya wanted to be friends, you could’ve just said so. I’m always open to new friends.”

Spot snorted, “One of these days, that’s gonna get ya killed.”

“Possibly... but I should probably be gettin’ back to Manhattan. Before I do, I have one question to ask you.”

“What?”

Race pointed vaguely at a throbbing area just above his temple, not wanting to actually touch it.

“How bad is it?”

“Your hair covers it, mostly, and Blue cleaned off the blood. It ain’t super noticeable, so if you avoid Cowboy for a bit to give it time to heal, he probably won’t have to find out.”

“Okay, great. Thanks, I guess. Thank Bluebird for me.”

“I will.”

Spot stayed close as Race stood up, probably expecting to have to catch him.

Race didn’t actually feel that bad. His head hurt, sure, but he didn’t feel like he was going to pass out anymore.

“I usually hang out under the stands when I take a break from sellin’,” he said, “If ya ever wanna... hang out, or whatever, come find me.”

Spot nodded, “Yeah. Sure. Maybe I will.”

Honestly, given that Spot Conlon was known for being hostile to pretty much everyone outside of Brooklyn, Race hadn’t expected to ever be able to befriend him. He was friendly on the rare occasion they saw each other, but he’d always seen Spot as kind of cold and distant.

Maybe it was just being in his own Lodging House—home turf—that made him drop his guard a little.

Whatever the case, Race couldn’t deny that a part of him was thinking about how if he could be friends with Spot Conlon, maybe he could slowly get closer and maybe even be more someday, but—

But this was a thought train for another day.

Well, this should be interesting.

#newsies #sprace #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #race x spot #violet’s writing

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thewritingsofamadwomen · 4 years ago

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I Hope You Don’t Mind

Mia Walker didn't know what was the next step in her life but it for sure wasn't any of this. Her complete life plan was changed around around with a simple sorry. And yet somehow she didn't mind much. Well to much anyways. Paul/OC

Chapter 1 : Ocean Blues

Mia Walker always wanted to leave her small town in New York, to run away and finally be able to become her own person. She never will have that at home, always having to live under her parents. They always expected too much from her within abnormal goals and expectations but there wasn't anything Mia could do beside follow through with what they said. Stressed till the day she was able to get away from them and start living her own life. Mia couldn't even remember what the argument was even about anymore she just remembered packing her bags and deciding to leave for a while. Just remembering being so furious at them and unable to stand being in that house one more day, she packed her bags quietly that night and slowly put everything into her mini coop and drove away. She wasn't even sure where she would go but at that point she didn't really care, so she just drove. Mia knew her parents cared about her but they showed it in the worst ways possible, they were judgement over little things, always expecting much more then capable. Then they believed if they just gave you nice things and took you to places that all would be okay. It was such a long time ago that Mia tried to stop pleasing them but yet she always hoped that one day they would finally be prod of her. It was a odd dynamic. But it was all to much after eighteen years, she needed to go and be herself for a little bit before having to continue living that way. So she left, stopping by all the road side shows and shops she could find, enjoying all the things she always wanted to see but never could. It was a nice adventure, a break from everything even if it was a little lonely. Eventually she found herself in a city called Seattle, Washington. It was beautiful and busy and so much different from her small home town and she loved it. Staying in city for a few days Mia decided she might as well head to the ocean, so she can officially say she took a East Coast to West Coast road trip.

And that's how she found herself sitting on a sandy beach late at night, watching the waves crash. It was peaceful besides a bit cold, the sky seemed to be clear which she assumed was abnormal for the area as it was raining everyday since she got here. Even the log was still damp that she had to put her sweater down first which led her to be cold in the first place. She could see the stars in the sky, the full moon illumining the water in front of her. A group of people were a little off to her left around a bonfire, their laughs echoing over the beach. She didn't feel like going back to the motel anyways, she felt like she needed to be here. Not sure quite why but Mia was okay with having some time to think and relax.

Mia needed some time to think, her goal was always to become a school teacher and nothing else would work. She worked so hard in school making sure her grades were perfect, taking all the extra classes that would get her ahead. She knew that much wasn't going to change no matter what but the question was where? She could end up back in New York, living with her parents for a bit longer or maybe going to a school completely away. Mia went to Charleston a couple years ago and she loved it there, or even maybe someplace in California or Florida. Her grades should have been good enough to be accepted into a lot of different schools. But she didn't have much time to figure out where, she had a plan. Go to school, have her first job becoming a teacher proving to her parents that should could do it, then find some guy to settle down with then have the marriage and have two maybe three kids running around. The plan was set and Mia was determined to follow it, nothing else would work. Part of wished something could just tell her what to do but that was the whole point of getting away from her parents so she could decided for herself but it was such unfamiliar territory. She knew what she wanted but just getting there was tricky part.

A gust of cold air whipped across the beach, causing Mia out of her head as she shivered, thinking it could be time to go soon before it got colder. Part of the group to her left were running into the water, which Mia thought was completely crazy. When she first got here she went straight to the water and it was far to cold to put your feet in yet alone your whole body. But these guys ran in like it was nothing, what she could make out there were three of them tossing each other around, splashing each other like children all while laughing at each other. So Mia watched them as they slowly ended up basically in front of her, unsure if it was a bit too creepy that she was watching them but technically she was there first and they did end up where she was looking. They looked like they were having fun, not a care in the world but she knew how much of an act that could be. But eventually the cold had to be to much for them as they slowly were getting out of the water close to where Mia sat. Seeing them more clearly she realized they all looked alike, they could be brothers, brothers all on steroids for sure. They all had matching tattoos it seemed, maybe it was thing here. Their bodies soaked as they were all shirtless and only in a pair of shorts, oddly none of them were shivering and yet here she was completely dry and getting cold in her jackets. Mia couldn't imagine how they could have even stand dressing like that without even being in the water. The shorter of the front two laughed at the taller one, retaliating the taller one shoved him down into the sand not even a foot away from where Mia sat. Causing her to slightly jump having looked away so they didn't see her staring at them.

"I'm going to kill you Jared." The boy said almost in a growl but his face had a smile on it so he couldn't have been to serious. "Sorry 'bout that." He said turning his attention to Mia.

He was close enough that she could actually see him now, he looked a bit older then Mia was, maybe in his mid twenties but age has never been her specialty. His muscles huge as he held himself off the ground, completely covered in sand from falling. His jaw was sharp with almost perfect features, his eyes and hair dark brown yet he looked up at her. His facial expression unreadable. The smile fell from his face but not quite to a frown just more in shock, his eyes staring to her own unable to look at anything else. Worlds turning and twisting to fit them together, finding the two of them together they sat there, eyes connected taking each other in.

"And another one." One of the other boys said behind him as they all headed back to the fire besides the boy in front of her.

"It's no problem." Mia whispered after what was probably an uncomfortable amount of time but he didn't seem to think so or care. She was glad that the others left or this would have been more awkward for everyone around.

"My names Paul." He said moving so he was now sitting up completely in front of her, sand falling from his very toned chest. Her eyes following his chest as a blush spread across her cheeks, hoping it was dark enough that he didn't notice she was just checking him out.

"I'm Mia." She told him trying to come up with something more interesting to say to get him to stay longer but her brain just coming up empty. Which is pretty understandable when a hot guy just falls at your feet.

"I haven't seen you in La Push before." Paul said giving her a smile, holding his hands in his lap trying not to reach out to her.

"No, I'm from New York actually. A really small town." Mia told him "I just kind of started driving a couple days ago and I just kind of ended up here. I didn't even know where I was till earlier today basically."

"You just ended up completely across the country? Can't say I have ever accidently done that. I've also never done that on purpose though either." He told her giving her a smile causing her heart to beat in her chest, if it got any louder the group of his friends would be able to hear it.

"I had to get away for a bit and I was already so close to this side of the coast I figured why not just go all the way and make it a kind of coast to coast trip." Mia explained, picking at her nails nervously, trying hard to not mess up her words in front of him. She was doing quite good so far only stuttering over a couple of words in front of him.

"Well I'm glad. Are you going to be staying in town for a while?" Paul asked, looking almost hopeful but Mia knew better than to get her hopes up. Paul was very attractive, and there was no way he could be single and interested in her. She was different in this small town and she was assuming that's why he even bothered to talk to her at all.

"I was thinking so for a couple days, I got a motel for a week in a town called Forks. It's not too far from here actually." She told him.

"I'd like to take you out, maybe tomorrow if you don't mind? We can go out to dinner if you don't have any plans."

"Uh.. Yeah.. Sure." Mia stuttered out, reaching out to the side of her for her phone in the sand. "You can give me your number and I can call you in the morning?" She asked unlocking her phone and handing it to him, guessing he wouldn't have a phone on him.

"A friend of mine's parents own a diner, It's not much being such a small town but the food is pretty awesome." Paul told her handing back her phone, looking at his contact info on the screen.

"Love of my life? Little bit ahead of yourself there aren't you?" Mia laughed giving him a smile.

"Maybe but it's true, you'll see." He said getting up from the spot, trying to brush off the sand that dried to his chest. Reaching out a hand to Mia to help her off of the ground, she grabbed her sweater shaking it off a bit before throwing it over her arm before turning back to him.

"Guess I will. Bye Paul." She whispered, giving him a shy smile before heading to where her car was sitting on the side of the road. Her thoughts all on Paul when she drove back to the motel, the way he smiled, the sounds of his laugh the fact she barley knew the guy and he asked for her number. Mia always knew she was a bit boy crazy but something was different about Paul and she wasn't quite sure what it was yet.

It didn't feel long when she arrived at the motel and found her way to her room, it was a small motel. Not the best place she has stayed in but it was one of the few options in the town. It seemed to be clean and had a bed, basic bathroom, and a little kitchenette in the corner if she needed to cook anything. She was sure it would be fine for at least a week, specially if she had Paul to occupy her mind. Mia pulled out her phone, hoping her friend wasn't going to be too busy to answer the phone. After a couple of rings she actually answered.

"CALLIE! I'm in love! His name is Paul and well that's all I know about him beside his got great great abs and doesn't mind the cold." Mia basically yelled into the phone when her friend answered the phone, laughing as she could just tell her friend was rolling her eyes. Her best friend was quite used to Mia's ways, at least every six months it was another boy that Mia was obsessed with. Telling her she was in love, it long becoming a joke between the two friends. They've known each other for years ever since kindergarten when Mia stole the crayon that Callie wanted so she decided to dump the box of crayons across the floor. Neither were quite sure how they became friends after a rude first meeting but they managed. And roughly thirteen years later they still were best friends and kept each other in check.

"With a guy you just met? Tell me he's at least attractive this time." Callie asked while Mia placed her on speaker phone as she dug through her bags for something to change into after she showered.

"Of course!" Mia defended him.

"Callie approved level of attractive?"

Mia laughed at her friend. "You would even find him attractive. I actually have a dinner date with him tomorrow, which was his idea but I'm excited and super nervous. So you may get lots of photos of outfits cause you are too busy in London to be with me in my time of need."

"Be better at picking out clothes then." Callie said laughing, yells and laughter coming from the background.

"Why would I when I have you to do it. I'll let you go so I can go to bed." Mia told her, cutting the conversation off for a different time guessing her friend was busy.

"Yes and call me afterward so I know this Paul didn't kill you." Callie said laughing but slightly serious, Mia wasn't one to pay attention to actually bad people she tended to be oblivious. So Callie often felt the tend to protect her from things, even if she never did a good job, she tried at least.

"He won't but sure. Byes" Mia said hanging up the phone and finished getting ready for bed.

A/N I clearly own generally nothing of this story, I only get to claim Mia and Callie. It is what it is

#ihydmc1 #twilight #wolfpack #paul lahote #embry call #seth clearwater #jared cameron #sam uley #fanfiction #paul x oc #paul lahote x oc #werewolves #shapeshifter

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kitmon · 5 years ago

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Keys Are Under the Mat {3/?}

Llewyn Davis x OC

Summary: Struggling singer/songwriter, Llewyn Davis, has faced the rough and tumble world of the music industry as well as the callous hand of life. When an up-and-coming folk singer makes a trip back home and finds herself at the hands of the battered down couch-surfer, her first thought is to offer him a bit of compassion.

Warnings: Cursing, sexual themes, themes of depression

The magnificent structure stood tall on a street corner within the heart of Greenwich Village. It held a lovely charm of something that’s lived for so long. The red tint of its brick-lined walls having been stained with the countless snow and rainstorms it’s endured but it only reminded those that looked upon it that it was a feat of structural genius plucked from the imagination of architect, Emery Roth. It was one of the reasons, she’d chosen it.

The Devonshire House was home to the wealthy and elite with sizable apartments and little English touches that she found herself enamored with after being surrounded by buildings just like it during her small trip to London in the spring. It was home for now, or at least until she was sent to another state or another country by her manager. But that was something to consider at a later point in time. Now, all she could find herself thinking on was how much she’d enjoy getting out of the powdery streets of New York and into her condo, where chamomile tea lay nestled somewhere in her cupboards waiting for her.

James came around to her door and opened it. He offered his hand for her and she took it, the soft cashmere of her glove fitting nicely into the beaten leather of his own. She took a prudent step onto the crunchy layer of ice that encased the sidewalk, James keeping close watch of her movements. Once she was steady he made his way to the trunk and unlocked it, pulling out her guitar case with ease. She was next to him in an instant, reaching out to take the case, but his hands inched away, keeping it just barely out of her reach.

“James?” She questions, looking up to find the subtle crease in his brow and the attentive sheen in his eyes.

“Let me carry this for you, Dotty,” he insisted, but she saw right through to the bottom of his shallow actions and knew right then that his intentions weren’t all too pure. Any other day she’d let him accompany her on the short trip to her apartment, but now that he was only trying to interfere with her guest, she’d have none of it.

“Oh, I’m sure I can carry it, James,” she persisted, reaching the rest of the way to grip the handle as James let it slip from his fingers, knowing not to fight her on these things. “It’s only a short walk through the lobby.”

His frown reflected his distaste, but he let her do as she pleased. She held a tight grip on her case as she moved to walk towards the front doors, where the misfortunate doorman stood at its side, snow dusting his shoulders and his cap. But before she could take a step, James caught her hand with a soft grip, not enough to really stop her but just enough to let her understand that what he was saying was urgent.

She turned her head down to look at his hold that had traveled further down, now grasping onto her hand. A flurry of puzzlement invading her senses as her sight flitted onto his shaking eyes.

“Stay safe, Dotty.” He pleaded, the poor quiver in his well-built hand bringing her back to the reality of the situation; the effect it had on others. Her eyes softened, and she plopped the guitar case into the snow, reaching for the hand that held hers and giving it a reassuring squeeze with both of her own. She lifted it up towards her before placing a soft kiss on his knuckles. He really is patient with her and she appreciates his sticking by her side. Lord knows how many times she thought he wouldn’t.

“There’s nothing to worry about, James,” she coos, running her thumb over his sharp knuckles that bloomed with the heat at her touch. His chin tucked itself into his chest as his head dropped and his hand planted itself on his hip in exasperation. He let out a brittle chuckle as his head rocked at the absurdity of it all.

“Jesus, Dorothy, you’re—,” his breath lay caught in his throat, not sure of what to say or what to do. His hand splayed over his forehead, trying to reach for the words.

“An idiot?” She offers, a wide grin inching its way up her features. “You can call me an idiot, James, I know that’s what you’re thinking,” she giggles, watching as his face unwound from the tightly woven distress he wore before into a broad smile that twinkled with the lights of the buzzing village around them.

“You’re not an idiot, Dotty,” the smile still present on him but his words were all resolute. “Just... dewy-eyed.”

“You trust too much in others.” His face turned pensive, now matching the solemn words he spoke. “One of these days these people’ll stomp on your fire, they’ll put you out.”

“You worry too much.” She patted the hand that ceased its quivering and was still cradled in her own. She brought her own to his strong chin, caressing it in assurance. The sharp stubble on his chin tickling the pad of her thumb.

She sent him off when the cold nipped at her nose and the snow began to seep into her boots, reminding her of how much warmer it’d be inside. She was sure her company wouldn’t mind the thought of it as he trembled under the umbrellaed visor that loomed over the entrance of the building, grasping for any kind of warmth as he waited on her.

They entered the large and spacious lobby, bringing a gust of chilly night air that swept across the floor and caused a chill to prickle at their skin. The checker-tiled floor was damp with the snow that clung onto travelers' feet even after wiping them at the door. The warmth and the wafting scents of early winter encased them as they stepped through to the elevator; smells of gingerbread and cinnamon gluing themselves to their heavy coats. She remains silent but her eyes shrink when her smile widens to wiggle her fingers at the lady occupying the front desk; Rachel, her name tag boasted. And the older man standing guard at the elevator watched with glee as his favorite resident stepped forward, offering this drear and heady day some sunlight in the form her kindness.

“Good evening, Henri,” she greets sweetly with closed eyes and an acknowledging lilt of her head.

“Good evening, Dotty,” he speaks, the remnants of a French accent lacing his words as his eyes filled with warmth, adoration as if looking at his own daughter.

“How’s Pepper? Poor thing still recovering from her cold?” She chances at small talk as Llewyn occupies her side, hands stuffed inside the eaten-away-at satin pockets of his blazer. He listens in on the conversation between friends as he looked up and around the box. Nothing all too new, similar to the one in the Gorfien’s complex he thinks.

“Oh, yes, she’s doing well,” he reassures, catching Llewyn’s ear as he does. “S’been reading a lot. Just finished a science-fiction novel. Never read one myself but I might give it a try the way she’s been raving ‘bout it.”

“I’ll have to lend you one sometime,” she offers, grasping onto the handle of her case with both hands in front of her as the elevator lets out a resounding ding at reaching her floor.

The dense metal doors slid wide open, showcasing a broad hall, decorated with simple vases holding lovely arrangements of purple hydrangeas, guelder roses, and dahlias all of which complemented the eggshell wash of the walls.

“Tell Pepper I said ‘Hello,’“ she requests, stepping out onto the divine and gleaming hardwood tile, still facing Henri as her steps walked her backward. She gives a final wave goodbye as the doors slid shut and Henri wished her farewell through the fracture between doors.

She spun on her toes to redirect herself forward. The clicks of her chunky heel meeting the tile could be heard against the walls as the two patrons within them remained silent. Llewyn stayed analyzing his surroundings, noting the broadly spaced doors and the high ceilings.

“Pepper is Henri’s wife,” she inserts into the still air, filling Llewyn in on the conversation she could quite easily assume that he was listening in on. “He adores her,” she continues. “Always speaks about how she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”

Llewyn looks away from the polished doorways to find her rubbing her thumb at the worn handle of the guitar case as she daydreams. His lips parted as if he were going to speak, say something to her but the attempt was shunned when she abruptly stopped at the last door on the hall, setting her baggage down and planting her feet on the blue Persian doormat placed just in front of it.

She fiddles with the ring of keys she pulled out of her— to all appearances—bottomless coat pocket. She stuffed the copper key into the hole once she finds it and opens the door. She steps to the side, her back placed along the hard oak allowing him in before her. He takes a step inside and surveys the flat; it was pristine, all clean colors coating the area, and it was reminiscent of the paintings of heaven he’d seen somewhere before. And he had only stepped foot in the foyer.

The welcoming home of a dog bark reverberated off the walls. Bounding around a sharp turn and nearly slipping on the corner of a rug comes a long-snouted dog, large and gaining speed preparing to jump onto Llewyn. His leap caused the musician to stumble back a few feet holding onto the slim limbs of the pup.

“Oh! No, stop that, Beau!” She scolds, turning from her work of locking the door to assist the dog back onto the floor. She holds him close at her side, patting his snow-white locks to steady him.

“I’m sorry, he gets excited when there’re guests,” she explains as the dog stares up at Llewyn, eyes wide and glossy with a happy-go-lucky grin shaping his mouth as he panted in excitement.

Llewyn looked on before he felt the gentle press and rub on his leg. He peeked toward the floor and found a slender grey and white spotted kitty rubbing her side against the rough material of his slacks. Her light fur decorating his grey-toned pants as she maneuvered.

“You’re not allergic, are you?” She questions with concern, lifting herself up from her kneeling position against the pup and making her way to scoop up the fur fiend in her arms. She held the cat like a mother would hold her newborn child while the animal butted it’s sleek head against her owner’s, begging for her attention as her purrs grew louder.

“I’m sure Penelope wouldn't mind spending some time in my room.” The cat continued to fight for her affection, ramming its head into her cheek as she spoke.

“No, no I’m fine,” he watched her interactions with her pets with a skeptical expression, shaking his head to let her know there was no need for any of that. Her head bobbed in understanding, her eyes gazing toward the floor as she subconsciously scratched at Penelope’s chin, much to the kitten's pleasure.

There was a bout of silence that lingered as she set the feline on the floor to roam. She lifted herself and patted her hands at her wool coat to remove the excess white fur from her gloves. She sighs deeply, her body relaxing. She starts to fiddle with the large buttons on her coat, plucking them through the holes then shimmying out of the thick material.

“If you’d like, there’s food all in the pantry and in the fridge.” She nods her head to the left, down another room in the general direction of the kitchen as she steps toward a coatrack. She hangs it up neatly before moving to her gloves, snatching the fabric off of each finger before pulling off the whole garment and placing them in her coat’s pocket.

He followed the nod of her head, leaning forward and looking off to find an expansive kitchen, bright and clean with rows of cupboards and drawers holding ripe fruits and fresh vegetables and grains.

“I’ll go get the first aid kit.” His eyes were yanked back to her toeing off her boots stabilizing her self on a nearby wall, wiggling her toes under her sheer black nylons once they were free. Her feet padded along the floor as she made her way towards the bathroom.

Llewyn watched her tread off before glancing up and down the walls making his way to the plush looking couch he found once turning the corner of the long corridor. He plops himself onto the perfect seat looking out the Georgian style window it was positioned near and onto the bright city lights flickering as the city thrived.

His head jerked when he felt the gentle landing of Penelope on his thigh. He watched as she let her paws wander over the expanse of his lap, searching for the best spot to rest. His mind initially wishes to pick her up and place her on the floor, but once he sees her settling in a comfortable ball he couldn’t find it to disturb her. Resting the hand that lifted in attempts to push her away now landing on her fur, stroking tenderly. Penelope’s purrs of content could be felt as he lifted his head and continued to watch outside.

The alluring sight and sound weren’t expected on Dorothy’s part as she turned the corner, holding a white package and halting her steps to look on for a moment longer. It was a humorous contrast; a big scruffy man nursing a soft and tender kitten in his lap, looking to be enjoying it nonetheless!

“I think Penny likes you,” she states as she steps toward the couple, bringing Llewyn’s attention to her form as she enters. His hand came to a standstill and Penelope lifted her head see the same sight.

His eyebrows puckered and his eyelids came closer in a squint. “What?”

She stepped forward toward an accompanying ottoman. She lifted its side and dragged it across the rug laying it in front of him and plopping herself on the plump material.

“Penelope,” she clarifies, not looking up at him as she flicks the latches open and rummages through the contents of the kit. “She seems to like you.”

“Oh, right, I guess so.” His eyes drifted from her onto Penelope, meeting the feline’s steel eyes that stared up at him. They silently insisted that he continue to brush her and he did, reaching at her head and traveling to the base of her spine.

Dorothy pulls a damp rag that she’d been holding prior and folds it a few times before offering it to his face, asking for permission to continue. With no hesitance on his side, she proceeds to clean at the tarnished skin. Burning red wounds and purple splotches coated his flesh. Luckily for him, there weren’t all too many and although the seriousness of each varied, there wasn’t a need for stitches. But her mind thought it right to at least clean them up.

“So, are you gonna tell me why you were half dead in an alley, or am I just gonna have to leave that to my imagination?” She jested, a smile pulling its way onto her features. An attempt in her part to lighten the mood.

“I was mugged, just my fucking luck,” he laughed humorlessly, wanting to shake his head but her fingers guided it back to where she could reach.

“Yeah, the guy wasn’t all too happy when he found out there wasn’t much to steal.” Her calculative pats ceased their rhythm when the sigh of a sentence left him. It was a subtle change in motion, hardly enough to notice, but it was there. Her emotions taking control for a split second at the sheer desperation in his voice. A voice so gruff, it must have been the subject of hurt too many times. She could only imagine how much shit could have been kicked in his face and how little anybody else could have cared at the moment. She knows it, she’s felt it.

After cleaning all the free blood and grime on his features she packs the little case up and moves to the kitchen. She placed it on the countertop and turned to pull open the freezer door, the frigid air hitting her as her hand reached in and brought back out an ice tray. She kicked the door closed with her elbow and set the tray on the opposite counter. In a graceful manner, having navigated the kitchen many times, she pulls at a drawer choosing a small dishrag and closing it with a thump. She popped a few cubes from the tray and placed them in the rag, folding it to hold them securely. She walked it back to the living room and leaned down to reach Llewyn’s line of sight. Her hand reached to press it against the bruise over his eye but quit when she realized that he could handle it, there was no need to mother him she figured. She instead opted for offering it in the palm of her hand.

“Here,” she encouraged. Llewyn meeting her eyes and reaching to take the package. Her hand pointed to the discolored mark that had started to swell as she continued. “Leave that on for a while, it’ll still be bruised but it’ll stop the swelling.” He offered a grateful nod, albeit short as he applies the needed pressure holding in the sharp grunt that wanted to escape. Her eyes roved over his beaten build, and she continued to repress the urge to overstep boundaries and coddle him. But her resolve won as she impelled her hands up and off her knees to stand straight and head for her bedroom.

Her bare feet peeked out of her door as she inched it open, revealing herself with dampened hair all ruffled and sticking out from when she tossled it with a towel. She was already snuggled up in striped pajamas that her figure drowned in. The sleeves reached the tips of her fingers and the fabric of the pants pooled at her feet.

After brushing her short locks into place and putting rogue streaks of hair back where they belong, she set the comb haphazardly onto a countertop; it was a common trait that often led to the displacement of many items. She took creeping steps towards the living area to peek inside. The television’s screen was pitch black as he made no use of it and the whole room stood still. There was no record on the turntable and no upturned knobs on the radio, rendering the room silent. He just sat, and stared out the window, twiddling at Penelope’s fur.

She felt intrusive when she stepped into his quiet place, a scoundrel plank of wood creaking when she took a step. Her head lifted to find him staring up at her, offering a sheepish smile as an apology for her trespassing. She stood straight and clasped her hands in front of her, pulling at the sleeve of her sleepwear as she offered the bathroom to him, pointing down the hall to make it clear. He nodded and lifted Penelope out of his lap and set her onto the floor. His frame stalked towards Dorothy as she held his stare, mouth sealed shut as to not make a peep. When he stepped beside her and continued to watch her face, holding his position yet saying nothing, the tension rose. Her head hung, cutting that thickening line, and she smiled to herself, the red racing up her neck and spreading along her flushed cheeks.

He watched her shuffle before walking down the hall.

The guest room she introduced him to was a standard size with a queen-sized bed placed along a wall. It was all furnished and decorated to fit the home, but it held its own touches unique unto itself.

He wasn’t presented this luxury very often, usually taking advantage of Jim and Jean’s raggedy couch or the Gorfien’s slight upgrade of a not-so-raggedy couch. He even offered taking rest on her own but she insisted that there was no need. It was a three-room condo, with a single resident and her pets, all other rooms were left untouched unless she had visitors which wasn’t very frequent. There wasn’t any point in letting the opportunity pass only to have the room collect more dust.

As he stepped inside, she continued to stand at the threshold, watching his eyes scan the room as they ultimately fell onto the bed.

In the bathroom, he pulled his clothes back on, opting to sleep in his tattered t-shirt and his wrinkled slacks. But on the nearly made bedspread lay a brand new shirt and folded just underneath was a pair of flannel pajama pants to keep him warm as she knew the window would let in peeks of air from time to time. She doesn’t say anything about the gesture and neither does he. He only takes it in his hands and feels over the material, holding in his mind the joy that overflows. But he looks at her, shirt still in hand as he thanked her with the dull gleam in his eye.

Her lips upturned slightly and she turned her head to the side, averting his solemn gaze.

Turning to walk away, her hand floating over the door frame as she turned, only tightening slightly when she halts. She curses her awful memory before retracing her steps, placing her back in the middle of the threshold ready to give him some information she left out.

“I’ll be gone early tomorrow, there’s food all in the cupboards so you can help yourself, and if you leave, go ahead and lock the door,” she finishes, her words holding a nonchalance to them, sleep already taking over. He nods his head and turns back to pulling at the tight tuck of the sheet wedged under the corner of the mattress. She gives a nod of the head as well, and once again tries to step away before another memo invaded her action.

“Oh, also, one more thing,” she chirps. “If you need to come back, there’s a spare key under the mat.” It’s a subtle offer, given for unknown intentions on her part. She wasn’t sure why but she enjoyed his company, the thought of coming home to someone other than Beau and Penelope, but he didn’t have to know that.

She leaves, her hand ultimately slipping from the doorframe it had been resting on and falling to her side.

“Hey,” he calls, taking a step to catch her before she was out of war shot. “Thanks, for all of this, it’s really... look, you didn’t have to—“

“I know,” she interrupts with a smile, “but I wanted to.”

She switches off the hall light with a flick and hollers a good night. She wrangles her pets, luring them in with sweet calls as they follow into her room. Beau saunters toward their shared bed, Penelope already cuddled up in the comforter until Beau leaps on as well and shakes her up.

Dorothy watched in amusement as she brought the door in. It closed with a click but her hand lingered on the handle, eyeing it. Her fingers floated over the lock, debating on her next choice, ultimately deciding on switching it with the sharp turn of her wrist. The room was secure and she was safe in that knowledge.

She trudged herself to her little nest, lifting the covers and cozying herself in the company of her pets, surrendering to her exhaustion.

Taglist:

@rosemarysbaby13

#inside llewyn davis #llewyn davis #llewyn davis x oc #llewyn davis x reader #fan fiction #film #movie #folk music #writer #writing #keys are under the mat #oscar isaac #fanfic #llewyn davis x y/n #llewyn davis x you #llewyn davis fanfiction #llewyn davis imagine #ll

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pinkykitten · 6 years ago

Text

Hairspray pt. 1

Stranger Things

Billy Hargrove x plus size! female reader

Warning: curse words, body-shaming, things get a lil steamy at the end

Specifics: comedy, angst, fluff, romance, chapter fic, race neutral reader, plus size reader, chubby reader, pictures

People: billy hargrove, nancy wheeler, jonathan byers, heather, your dad, your mother, amber (bully, oc)

Words: 4,089

Summary: Based on Bell’s 2.5k Challenge, @acciosnapes. Being rich was tough. Your parents expected so much out of you; they expected you to be perfect. Owning practically all of Hawkins, Indiana; they perceived themselves to be above everyone else. Having that thinking made you alone, as you were not allowed to hang out with people beneath you. 4th of July of 1985 holds the fair for Independence day. You had feelings for a certain bad boy and if luck comes your way you may tell him the truth and who knows maybe he’ll even ask you to the fair. During those moments though, you will have to endure top secret evil science labs and experiments. You will uncover Hawkins secrets, make friends and who knows maybe break a couple of rules.

Authors Note: y/f/n = your father’s name

y/m/n = your mother’s name

this is the first part of the chapter fics hairpsray. this is for a challenge and i love this so much. i love writing confident plus size characters and readers. the aesthetic was made by me and the beginning to the end of this fic i got inspired by hairpsray 2007 by the start of the movie all the way to miss baltimore crabs number. i put an amber in here like the movie and some quotes and dialogue is taken from the movie hairspray, lets see if u guys can figure it out. anywho i love this hope u love it and im so happy i did this challenge there will be more so check out for this series and im excited to show u guys. yay!

The summer of 1985. It was hot and sticky outside. The cicadas singing as they made their way near you home. You were excited. You were going to, no matter who tried to stop you, get a job.

It very well likely might not have made sense to anyone. You were rich. Grew up with a golden spoon in your mouth. You never knew life to be hard. Every little thing was given to you, whether it be toys, dresses, makeup, you had it all. At least thats what your parents thought. Your father was basically equal with the Mayor. The two helped each other out with smart work and of course the dirty work. Y/f/n thought you didn’t know but you sniffed out the clues and put them together. You knew your father was no innocent man. He played his cards right to get this money, not earn it. And y/m/n, just followed your father around like a lost puppy. You could see the kindness in her sometimes but she always listened to your father.

What your parents didn’t know was you were searching for something more important. Something that meant a whole lot to you. Money didn’t matter. You didn’t want that life. You wanted to be independent and be able to make mistakes and live life. Your parents always disciplined you on peers. You were not allowed to be with low lives; people who weren't as successful as your family. But all the friends your parents wanted you to love were snobs and thought so highly of themselves. You wanted to get away from that life. Your whole life was planned out for you. You are forever and always this pretty, perfect sweet girl who follows rules even though sometimes you didn’t feel those things.

You woke up to the sun beating down on your face. You rolled around on your pastel pink king sized bed. Groaning, as you subconsciously hit your alarm clock but noticing you were awoken before its ring.

“Hmm, thats never happened before.”

You stretch as you jump out of bed to start your first day of work. You would never tell your parents. They would never understand and probably make excuses to stop you. You were going to try to get hired at Hawkins Community Pool. It was a risky decision based on your size. You were plus sized and adored it! You felt on top of the world most times and never cared what anyone thought. But there were times where you did get down from comments but you still pushed ahead and loved yourself. You were willing to give the lifeguard gig a chance and there was a plus side. Your crush Billy Hargrove was there. You just hoped you could entice him enough to give you a go.

You scrambled to your feet as you raced to your phone. You dialed your best friend Nancy’s number. You had to keep the relationship a secret. If your parents knew about your friendship they probably would flip. You knew about all the secrets of the kids and Hawkins lab. Nancy felt guilty not telling you so she spilled the beans about everything to you. About Eleven, the monsters, scientists. It sounded unreal but you knew Nancy would never lie to you.

“Hey Nance, are we still on for the mall today?” You asked, twirling the cable with your fingers.

On the other side you could hear Nancy struggling, “yep we’re still on. Sorry I’m running late to my first day of work.”

“Oh yeah its today. What are you gonna be doing again?”

Nancy made a yelp as the phone was muffled, “sorry I just slipped putting on my dress.” Just as Nancy said that you could hear Jonathan’s voice in the background.

“No way!” You squealed. “Did you sleep with Jonathan?”

Nancy giggled, “...sorta...kinda...yeah.”

“You naughty girl!”

“Whatever!”

“Tell him I said hi,” you said.

“Oh my god y/n, you’re unbelievable but I gotta go now.”

“Wait? Are you still coming with me to get my bathing suit?”

“Like I would miss this. Y/n’s first job and pretty much your first time being a independent young lady. Y/n, we’re definitely going to celebrate!” She hanged up the phone and you got dressed for the day.

You went to the living room and turned on the tv. “Good morning Hawkins, Indiana.” The news man and lady said as they raised their morning cup of coffee to the viewers.

You skipped around the kitchen finding something to eat. Humming a tune you couldn’t get out of your head as it was a song you made up.

“I love you Hawkins, and someday when I take to the world, the worlds gonna wake up see. Hawkins and me,” you sang as you were stopped by your father.

“Why are you so jumpy this morning?” He wore a scowl on his face.

You shrugged, “nothing in particular dad.” You kissed him on the cheek. Your mother walked in swatting your hand as you were about to make breakfast for yourself.

“The maids can get it honey,” she said as the maid ran in and got started in cooking you your favorite.

You rolled your eyes as you got your bag, “you know I think I’ll just eat on the road. I’ll pick up something on the side.”

“Honey, make sure its nothing greasy,” your mother said. “You have to try to back away from foods, remember.”

“You remind me everyday mother.” Your parents always pointed out the fact that you were bigger than most girls your age. They always tried to put you on diets and workouts but nothing worked. It didn’t work because you didn’t want it to work. You were totally fine with your body and wish they could see what you saw.

Finishing the rest of your corn dog from the food court you awaited on Nancy by the store. Checking your time you knew Nancy was supposed to be here.

“C’mon Nance, where are you?”

Finally she showed up from around the corner. Her hair all disheveled. It looks as if she was rushed.

“Hey there best friend...you okay?” You asked, hugging her as she came up.

She waved your question off. “It can wait. So what are you thinking of getting? Whats your vision?”

“Well,” you said as you entered into the tiny shop. Women of all sizes were there but you can see the look of disappointment on many of the bigger girls faces. There was barely anything there for them. You looked through the clearance for “Big Girls” it read on the sign. “since I have to make a good impression, I’m going to wear something sexy but also professional. I don’t want to look like no stripper.”

Nancy chuckled, “right. Also isn’t this swimsuit for only this time cause you have to wear their red one while you work there.”

“Correct. Like I said though I want them to see I am trying and I am not going to half-as* it.”

“How bout this one?” Nancy said as she brought out a blue one. It had sequins on it; very beautiful. But it was too sexual. The breast area was very much wide and open. The back showed too much butt. “What do you think about this?”

“Don’t get me wrong its super pretty but like I said; I need to look professional. Plus there’s gonna be kids there.”

“I gotcha. Sorry I maybe just want everyone to pass out when they see my friend.”

“Oh I bet everyone will, even if I don’t wear anything sexual. They’re probably gonna be like agghhh an earthquake when they see me walking in and I’ll respond like, you bet b*tch.”

Nancy laughed.

“How bout this one?” You pulled out a Hawaiian one. It was pretty but more for old ladies and it was boring.

“Okay yeah sure...for my nana!”

“Well how do you know me and your nana don’t have the same taste?”

“Look you need something more than that. Like you said, making a statement.”

You bit your lip, “man this harder than I thought. I’m kind scared to be honest about doing this. Like I think the last time I ever got this scared was when they announced the new coke.”

Nancy tried her hardest to hold back a giggle, “why are you scared?”

“Picture this, what if a stranger hands me a blunt and you know I’m curious by nature and I accept it? What in the world will Billy think? He’ll probably think I’m like a druggie 24/7!”

“First off, that is the oddest situation I’ve ever heard of. Second, is this your weird way of saying what if Billy doesn’t like you?”

“No I know he’ll like me sexually but I mean platonically. What if he doesn’t want to be like a normal couple and hang out? What if he’s ashamed to be with me? These are good questions.”

Nancy held your hand, “than he’s the jerk I always thought him to be and you’re too good for him.”

You nodded, “I mean I’m too good for him now but in that moment, if he’s a d*ck then I will be 10 times better than him. So any ways...how was work?”

Nancy rolled her eyes and looks down, “I kinda don’t want to talk about it.”

“What? What happened? Am I gonna have to slap a b*tch?” You became territorial and overprotective of your friend.

“No, no, no its just, the men at work sorta treat me like I’m dumb and that I’m not really of use to this type of work. I guess cause they see me as a woman they think they can take advantage of me. They make fun of myey/n. In front of everyone. Its bull sh*t.” Nancy almost looked as if she wanted to cry.

“Hey its okay. This is your first day. People are going to be jack as*es but you listen to me. Whenever any one has talked about me differently or made fun of me because of my weight or whatever I either laugh with them, ignore them, or say something smart back to them. There are ways that we women can stand up for ourselves without having to insult or hurt someone physically.”

“Its just easier said than done. But I’ve got a lead. A lady called me today about diseased rats. I think that maybe this is my chance to be a journalist like I’ve always wanted to be.”

You clapped her on the back, “atta girl. You take that chance. You take it right in your hand and never let it go. No matter what they tell, or do to you; you have the right, the power. Use it Nancy. Use your voice.”

Nancy smiled and picked out an orange swimsuit. You didn’t care if people called you an actual orange; all you saw was perfection.

“How bout this one y/n?”

“Thats the one Nancy. Its perfect!”

“Hey pancake y/n and Nancy drew,” Amber, your arch nemesis. The bully, the b*tch of the town walked up to you two. Her high heels clicked as they met with the floor. Her skirt was so short you could almost see her goodies from up high. Her makeup was too overdone and her blonde hair was as perfect as Tom Cruise’s abs. She snickered as she saw you hold up your swimsuit to pay. “And you’re gonna wear that? Where are you going? To the Hawkins pool?”

“Yes as a matter of fact I am. Thanks for you looking out for me...Amber.” You said as you walked right by her; nudging her lightly. “Now I don’t wanna get there late so if you excuse me-”

“Oh sorry, too skinny of a space?”

“Amber-” Nancy started but you waved a hand out to her.

“No its okay Nance. She’s right, it was too skinny for my delicious body.” You shrugged.

Amber motioned closer to you. Her foot stepping on yours. “Are you going to the pool to see Billy?”

You almost forgot. Rumor had it that Amber was going to try all Summer to get with Billy but so far you heard he was single and you sure as he*l were not going to miss the opportunity.

“Well I mean I will see him whether I want to or not. He kind works there.”

“I’m not talking about that fat-a*s. I’m saying are you doing all this. Wanting to work there just because he’s there?”

“Wow Amber! I didn’t realize you were my mother. Congratulations! Now shall I tell you about all my business?”

Amber snarled, “I swear to God if you try anything with Billy I will hunt you down. If you think for a moment that he would ever like someone like you? You are completely and utterly stupid. Know your place and be careful... you might stop traffic in that.” Amber chuckled as she walked away. Her butt swaying as she tried to show you she was better than you.

“Yeah well I have a better a*s than you!”

Nancy shook her head as she led you to the register, “C’mon y/n, lets just go.”

Did that little interaction ever stop you?

Never! You still went with your plan. Get this job in order to get your Billy. It was plain and simple. And also to prove to yourself and your parents that you can do things on your own and you didn’t need anyone.

Nancy dropped you off. You got changed in the bathroom and knew it just turned into Billy’s shift. You met with the other kids at the front desk. As they saw you they laughed. “Well, well, well if it isn’t y/n l/n, the rich girl. What can we do you for?”

As you were about to speak one of the boys put his hand up, “I’m sorry but we don’t have any gold bars here at the moment. Maybe you’ll have to ask the President of the United States.”

You glared at the boy and were silent. The boy thought he broke you and you acted very suspicious. Suddenly you laughed, “yeah well maybe I’ll go ask your dad since he seems to pay me every time I’m with him.” You of course knew it wasn’t true. You had never even slept with anyone before heck with his dad. It was all for games.

The others hollered out loudly at your come back and the boy stood back flushed.

“Now I want to work here and I think I deserve a resume. I see your sign that you are hiring so what do I have to do here folks?” You clapped your hands.

A girl named Heather walked by and heard your conversation. “Y/n, right?”

“Thats me.” You shook her hand.

“Awesome, yeah I remember your call. You wanted a job here?”

“Correct again.”

“Well around here we do things differently. In order to get the job we need to see your walk.”

“My what?”

“Your walk.” The other teens tried to stifle their laughter. “Thats the most important step. We need to see how you walk in order to get to your post.”

“Oh okay for a minute I thought you wanted me to walk on water or something.”

Heather rolled her eyes. “No. I need to see how you do and then we can talk and I can give you a resume.”

“Wait. You’re the one who conducts the interviews around here and stuff like that?”

Heather nodded. Lying.

“Cool so when do I start the walk?”

“Now!” Heather pushed you into the open.

“Oh okay,” you were shy at first but then conducted yourself. The sun shone on your skin deliciously making your skin glow. You looked at your surroundings. A lot of kids. A chubby kid running, which you knew was a no-no. The other side, near Billy was, “Mrs. Wheeler? What in the world is she doing looking at Billy like that?” You felt anger erupt within you. Yes, you were a little jealous. Even though their relationship was extremely wrong you still felt jealous. You proceeded to walk. Not caring if anything budged out, jiggled, nothing. You felt sexy, beautiful and that’s all that mattered.

You shook your hips as you walked up to the chair. You had talked to Billy before but never a full out conversation. It was little ones. Billy stood right by the chair, talking to Mrs. Wheeler. As you showed up Billy looked at you straight in the eye. You bit your lip winking at him. Billy then looked all over you, raising his brow. He licked his lips.

“Hi y/n,” he said all suave; putting his hand out to stop Mrs. Wheeler’s conversation, interrupting her.

“Hi Billy, hello Mrs. Wheeler.”

Mrs. Wheeler seemed angry so she sat back down in the sun.

“Well, well, well, what are you doing here?” Billy asked as he leaned against the lifeguard chair.

“Well I heard y’all were hiring. I saw in the newspaper that they’re making another lifeguard here, coinciding with the first one of course. Heard it gets hectic around here.”

Billy chewed on a toothpick as he came closer to you, smirking. His eyes seeming almost a sea green when it hit the sun. “Yeah it sure does get hectic around here, but I think with you around; things will get more hectic. Trust me.”

“Will it be by your doing?” You got closer as well. Playing his games.

“I don’t know, might be.”

“Got any more bigger girls like me around here?”

“No just the one and only you.”

“Oh so you were looking?” You didn’t mind that he called you bigger or when someone called you fat. It was the truth and you learned to love those words.

“Is that a bad thing?” Billy asked as his eyes scanned all over you once more. His eyes became lustful.

“No, I mean you might as well learn what a real woman looks like. I guess I’ll be making history around here. Y/n l/n, the first lifeguard that is really and surely a-”

“Whole lotta woman,” Billy said as his voice came out raspy and more of a moan.

Your knees were becoming weak. “Thats right.”

“Alright miss making history. Why do you want this job? Aren’t your parents rich? Doesn’t your dad work with the mayor?”

“Yep but I feel as a young lady, I need to learn and live.”

“Don’t worry you’ll learn all those things here; I’ll make sure I’ll teach you.” Billy said as he touched your arm, sending electricity coursing through your veins.

“So Billy Hargrove will be my lifeguard teacher, huh? Not bad. But...will you ever need to punish me?”

Billy looked shocked as you said that and laughed. He inched closer to you until his plump lips landed on your ear, “only when you’re being a bad girl.”

It took everything out of you not to moan right there. You coughed as you tried to act natural again. Billy got you good.

“Bashful much?”

“More like turned on,” you muttered not knowing Billy heard as he smiled wide. You turned around and walked straight back to Heather. Your a*s shaking a lot as you walked back making Billy almost have a heart attack. There was no way he was going to go through summer without you.

“So how’d I do?” You questioned Heather. Excited to hear the news.

“Well...it was okay.”

“Okay?”

“You weren’t supposed to talk to anyone yet.”

“Um, its a community pool. Everyone's talking.” You said.

“No we mean when you were talking to Billy. You see a lot of the girls here like him. And we can’t have you jeopardizing their chances and scaring Billy if you know what I mean.” Heather said as she winced.

Billy had wanted to hear the news about you working here and stood nearby; hearing the whole conversation.

Your eyes widened, “no I’m sorry I don’t know what you mean?”

“Its just with your rich parents and well your weight for another thing we feel as its just too much...stuff for this job requirement.”

“So you’re basically saying I’m too fat and rich for a small summer job?”

Heather tried not to laugh as the other kids in the office did. You rolled your eyes. “And all this walk and stuff, that was fake too I suppose.”

Heather couldn’t control herself. She bursted out laughing. “You’re totally right! And you fell for it!”

You tried your hardest not to let them get to you. Not to cry. But it was difficult. They embarrassed you, hurt your feelings, rejected you because of your weight and life. You felt like you could get nowhere with them.

You smiled, “thank you for your time guys.”

“Whatever!” Heather waved you off.

Billy on the other hand was furious. He knew what it mean to be treated differently and to be hurt. He wanted to stand up for you but he was scared he would lose his job.

You walked away and Billy walked up to Heather. “Hey, why do you have to be so cruel?”

“Says the guy who literally bullys everyone. What makes y/n any different?”

“Maybe its because she’s not a b*tch. Like some people are.” Billy walked away to get back to work but he could not for the life of him stop thinking about you. You clouded his brain all day.

You walked home. Thinking about all that was said to you today. You had high hopes of getting the job but now you didn’t know where to go. Crashing onto your bed you cried onto your pillow. Your mother was out shopping with a group of her rich friends and your father was helping the Mayor out with the 4th of July fair. They didn’t care how you felt that day. When someone hurt you. They only cared about themselves.

Your phone rang and it was Nancy. You sniffled your tears, wiping your face, “hello Nance. Whats up?”

“Hey y/n oh my god you’re not going to believe it! I got a lead on the rats! Me and Jonathan went to go check it out at Mrs. Driscoll. She showed us her basement and all the fertilizer bags had holes in them from the rats. She said that maybe they had rabies and wanted us to notify the public but y/n when I got a good look at these rats it was not like the norm.”

“What do you mean?” You sat up.

“What I mean is that these rats were like having a convulsion. They were acting really strange. Like crazy, I’m gonna investigate more tomorrow and then maybe just maybe the guys at my work will actually take me seriously.”

“You show them! But be careful okay, I don’t want you or Jonathan to loose your jobs. Pursue this story your way.”

“Thanks. Hey what about you? How did things go for your lifeguard summer adventure? And what about Billy? Oh my god did he see you that? He probably had such a big boner-”

“Nancy!” You started to cry again. “I didn’t get the job.”

“What the h*ll do you mean? Do I have to smack a b*tch?”

You chuckled lightly, “no its nothing like that or what I mean is theres nothing you can do. I went in and they pranked me and called me names and pretty much made fun of me saying that I couldn’t work there because I was rich and fat.”

“So? Who the h*ll cares? Jesus, I hate people.”

“Me too, but never you.” You sighed.

“You know what you do?”

“What Nancy? I tried everything-”

“You try again! Go tomorrow and wear their attire their red swimsuits and show them that you are not playing around. Make them see that you are the woman for the job. You are an amazing person y/n, show them and show Billy.”

You wiped your tears away and got the boost you needed. “You’re right Nance, thanks. I’m gonna keep trying until I have done all that I can.”

“Yeah and if not there is a new mall that you could work at and really anywhere. People would be lucky to have you.”

“Thanks Nancy. You always know how to make me feel better.” You hanged up the phone and got a good nights rest for the next day where you would try your hardest to achieve something you so badly wanted.

Tag list: @harrington-lover, @angelgl16, @perfectlybeautifulsuit, @hyehoney, @haven-prelude (wont let me tag), @leasly, @totally-alexa21, @creamy-pasta-boi, @multireese, @fanfictionrecommendations-com, @prentisskelley, @malereaderforkpop (wont let me tag), @guardian-of-cookies, @justafangirl-97, @teenageshitposts (wont let me tag), @dippergravity (wont let me tag), @some-booty, @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople, @collectiveyou, @wtfisalltherandoms, @dirbel, @eastcoasthaven, @fangirl-4-life415 (wont let me tag), @idontknowwhattocallthisworld (wont let me tag)

wanna be tagged in my crap? comment!

also if you wanna be tagged in the series hairspray, comment :)

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thethoughtsfromthreeam · 5 years ago

Text

California

Pairing: Agent Whiskey/Jack Daniels x OC

Warnings: Mentions of torture, angst, hope

A/N: My state is on lockdown, so while I’m going into the office to prep my site for three weeks of isolation, I figured I’d get this out today earlier than usual so no one is waiting too long.

And I can’t believe the number of people who have followed this blog in the last week or so (has it only been that long?) and the people who are liking the posts. Y’all know how to make a girl feel good. :)

Reminder: I haven’t seen Kingsman: The Golden Circle, so I’m just using the Wikia, IMDB.com, some gifs, and my own weird ass brain to make up this whole ass story.

Tag List: @zeldasayer , @romanticgumchewer, @tarrevizslas , @coolmaybelateruniverse , @the-feckless-wonder, @lavenderl3mons , @pascalisthepunkest [please message me to be added or subtracted]

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [PART 5]

Part 6

Homeward Bound

As the plane flew back towards Kentucky, the quiet that permeated its cabin was nearly stifling. Agents sat throughout the plane lost in thought, but all were facing the same direction. In the back of the plane, a motionless body lay under the covers on a makeshift bed. And every single person prayed that they made it back to Kentucky soon.

---***---

As darkness gripped Sacramento, Champ gave the signal. The agents quietly surrounded the building and let themselves in. Leading the pack, Champ and Tequila had their guns drawn and Jack had his lasso ready. The remaining agents drew their weapons before stepping inside. After the all clear was given, bodies fanned out through the building. The three men took a quick pause to look at each other and with silent nods, they split up. Champ to the right, Tequila to the left, and Jack straight ahead. He was going for Sirah and god save anyone who crossed his path this night.

Soon the sound of gun fire rang out through the building and shouts could be heard. Despite feeling as if he should help his fellow agents as the sounds got louder and faster, Jack never strayed his course and soon he found himself on the third story of the building. He investigated every room but found each one empty. His gut roiled as he turned up nothing time and time again. Then at the end of the hall, he opened the door and there she was. He dropped to his knees.

As she sat on the floor, arms shackled to the wall, Sirah look dead to Jack. Her head lolled to the side, but he could see her face grotesquely swollen from the repeated beatings she received. She looked nearly naked in just her tee shirt and underwear, both soaked through with blood. He could see parts of her body horribly scarred from burns sustained in the explosion, and her entire body looked as if was one giant bruise.

He crawled over to her, whispering ‘no’ over and over like a prayer. She had to be alive, he needed her to be alive. Hear her voice, her laughter every day. When he reached her, he drew a shaky breath and touched her. To his immense relief she was warm.

“Sirah. . .” he called out in a low voice, not wanting to startle her. “Sirah!”

She didn’t move, but he could see her breathing. He touched her gently and shook her. He called her name again and when she didn’t move, he took a risk. He looked around to make sure they were alone.

“Marigold, wake up.” He whispered her name, her real name. Their own secret that they carried between the two of them. Statesmen used code names to protect agents and their families, and while Jack liked to buck tradition, the unspoken rule of code name only ruled the organization. But one night, as the two laid side by side staring at the stars from the roof of a Statesmen outpost, she told him. It was the most intimate moment they experience and from then on, everything changed for them.

“Marigold, please, baby, I need you to wake up.” His voice caught but she stirred and groaned a bit in response. He closed his eyes briefly before opening them again.

“Jack?”

“Marigold, I’m here my love.”

“Jack.” Her head hung back down. “Just five more minutes, I promise I’ll get up then.”

He couldn’t stop the small smile at her joke, but knew he had to get her out there fast. He ran back to the hallway and saw Agent Saki at the end. He shouted towards the young man, who turned and yelled further down the hall. A host of feet came running, led by Champ.

When the agents entered the room, they all stopped at the sight. The horror couldn’t be contained and when someone saw Tequila coming down the hall, Champ ran out to stop him. It was bad enough Jack had to find her; Tequila may never recover if he saw her the way she was. He convinced the agent to go get their medic crew and he turned back to the room.

Champ and Jack unlocked her shackles thanks to a set of keys found in a spare office by one of the West Coast agents. Her arms dropped and she slumped over onto Jack’s chest, groaning. She looked terrible and both men were afraid to pick her up. Thankfully, the medics came in with a transport board and carefully pulled her onto it. They worked quickly to stabilize her before she was hoisted off the ground by several agents. Three to a side.

Jack wasn’t a superstitious man, but as he watched them carry her out, he couldn’t help but to think he was watching a funeral. A hand landed on his shoulder and he looked over at Champ. The sadness in the older man’s eyes was devastating and they looked at each other for a long time before stepping out of the room.

---***---

Once they arrived back in Kentucky, Sirah was whisked away to the medic bay with Ginger on the heels of the med team. The junior agents were sent back to their apartments and the three senior agents stood in the foyer of HQ. For a long time, no one said anything or moved. The West Coast branch descended on the Sacramento site after the rescue to contain the scene and Champ gladly let them take the lead on the case for the time being. None of his agents were going to be able to handle this right now

The men eventually moved upstairs and on the third floor, they found Ginger sitting in the small waiting room of the medic bay. Her eyes were dull, and her arms were wrapped around her body, as if she was trying to warm herself from some cold no one else could feel.

Soon after, the doctor walked out into the waiting room. Known as Dr. Licuados, the older gentleman looked exhausted as he sat down before looking at everyone. They waited with bated breath.

“She’ll live,” he said. “But she has a long road to recovery. She’s got second and third degree burns across most of her back, arms, legs, and neck, all from the explosion. If we didn’t find her in time, the infection from that alone would have killed her. She has contusions all over her face and body. Shallow cuts all over her chest and upper arms produced most of the blood she was covered in. Her hip and three ribs are broken while her jaw and her left hand have hairline fractures. She has other burns as if from a cigarette or some other source and she’s dehydrated as hell.”

Champ cleared his throat and asked the question everyone was wondering, “Doctor, was she. . .”

Licuados raised a hand and stopped him.

“No. We haven’t found any evidence of that.” The relief was palpable in the room.

“When can we see her?” Asked Tequila. He had been the quietest since they boarded the plane in California. It almost startled everyone when he spoke.

“We’re getting ready to wheel her into surgery right now to fix the broken hip and reinforce the ribs. It will be several hours before she’ll be out of surgery, but I’ll ask the nurses to wait so you can come in before she goes under.” He got up and squeezed Ginger’s knee before shaking Champ’s hand. He walked back through the doors and several long minutes passed before a nurse waved them back to the holding bay. There in the bed lied Sirah, unconscious and to her friends, she almost looked dead.

Each of the agents took time to hold her hand or to touch her face as gently as they could. Each whispered their love into her ear and stepped out when the next agent went to do the same. As Ginger left the bay last, they stood in the hallway looking at each other. The nurses came for Sirah and wheeled her bed towards the operating room. Champ spoke only when the door closed behind the party.

“As much as I know we all want to be here, it’s been a long twenty-four hours and I need you all go back to your apartments and get some rest. She’ll be in surgery for hours and it’s not event certain when she’ll wake up afterwards. I need you all fresh tomorrow so we can find this son of a bitch.” The three remaining agents nodded their agreement, and all moved out of the med bay.

But none of them went to sleep that night. It wouldn’t come to some and to others, it softly taunted them with visions of death and decay when they tried. Exhausted, Champ entered his apartment and walked straight to the bedroom, where his wife was awake and waiting for him. He sighed as he stripped himself of his work clothes and set his gun on the dresser. When he turned, she opened her arms to him, and he crawled across their bed and laid his head on her stomach. As she ran her fingers through his hair, he curled his arm around her waist and cried until there was nothing left in him.

Two stories up, Tequila and Ginger laid in his bed, holding each other as they cried. Sobs raked Tequila and Ginger was certain she had an endless well of tears. His grip on her hand was hard, but she welcomed the pain because it made her feel alive, the total opposite of the deathly cold that settled in her chest earlier in the evening. Throughout the night, the crying jags continued between bouts of fitful sleep that brought no relief to the two friends who hurt so much.

Jack walked into his office and closed the door behind him. Through his office window, one could see the sky brightening in the east, heralding the dawn of a new day. But he never saw it as he held his head in his hands and sobbed until his throat was raw. When his energy gave out, he sank to his knees and dropped his head to the floor. The cool tile almost stung against his hot forehead, but it did little to help. He stayed like that for hours, rocking back and forth praying that the woman he loved would come back to him.

#agent whiskey #jack daniels #pedro pascal #kingsman: the golden circle #fanfic #agent whiskey x oc #agent whiskey x reader #pedro pascal x reader

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raywritesthings · 5 years ago

Text

Bird in a Storm 9/17

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen, Tommy Merlyn, Quentin Lance, Dinah Lance, Ted Grant, Thea Queen, John Diggle, Female OCs, Male OCs Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: The confrontation between the Hood and SWAT on the roof of the Winick Building goes differently, altering the course of Laurel’s career, relationships and efforts to save her city forever, the shockwaves of such an altered path making themselves felt throughout her family and friends. *Can be read on my AO3, link is in bio*

Dinah left the Starling City airport with her suitcase rolling behind her, a small bout of nerves starting to grow. It had been so long since she’d been here, she almost didn’t recognize the place. And she worried perhaps the people wouldn’t recognize her.

But she had news, urgent news. And she needed help. Maybe once Sara was back home safe and sound, everything would be alright.

She had Laurel’s address written on a little post-it note. The sticky part on the back had long worn out, but she’d managed to hang onto it all these years. Every so often on a birthday or Christmas, she took it out and considered… but it would have been too late, she had always reasoned. Her daughter would have wondered why she had decided to reach out at that moment. Well, now she did have a reason.

She took the elevator up to the third floor and rolled her suitcase all the way down the hall, knocking on the door at the end. Dinah drew in a deep breath as she waited, hearing footsteps approach.

A young man in a shirt and tie answered the door. “Hello?”

Dinah’s greeting caught in her throat, unsure of what to do. Was this a friend of Laurel’s? More than a friend?

“Tim, who is it?” A young woman’s voice called out. A young woman who was decidedly not her daughter.

“I’m sorry. I must have gotten the wrong address,” she stated before Tim could answer. “I’m visiting family.”

“Oh. Well, if you need a directory or something—”

“No, that’s alright.” Dinah gripped the handle of her suitcase and took a step back. “I’ll be fine.”

She turned and left the building. With great reluctance, she directed her feet towards the precinct. She’d been hoping to speak to Laurel before Quentin, but if needs must then they must.

Dinah wasn’t surprised to find him working. He always was. She found him with his head buried in a file, only a little worse for wear than when she’d last seen him.

“Just a minute,” he said with a vague wave in her direction.

“That’s alright,” Dinah replied and watched as he froze before looking up at her.

“Dinah. What- what are you doing here?” He was staring at her like she was a ghost, and he stood slowly, one hand braced on the desk.

“Well, it’s about Sara. And about Laurel, I suppose,” she added with a shrug. “Do you know where I can find her? I tried her old apartment, but she seems to have moved out.”

“Yeah, she did that about a month ago,” Quentin told her. “Look, I’ll give you the address, but I better go over there with you. It’s in the Glades.”

“The Glades?” Even when she’d been living in Starling, the Glades hadn’t been the nicest place to find yourself. From the few news stories she’d read at times while feeling nostalgic, that had only gotten worse. “What is she doing there?”

Quentin sighed and grabbed his keys. “I’ll explain on the way.”

He started with the appearance of the vigilante known as the Hood, how he’d reached out to Laurel and how their daughter had supported him. The botched attempt at bringing him in that had resulted in Laurel’s name becoming attached to the Hood and how she’d been forced to choose between him and her job. Laurel’s subsequent fall from grace.

Even listening to the explanation, it was hard for her to grasp. “Quentin, how could this happen?”

“Well, it did. And don’t look at me like that. At least I was here.”

Dinah stared down at her lap. His words were only so biting because they were true. But he didn’t understand why she hadn’t been able to stay. None of them could.

He slowed down as they turned onto a narrow street with cars parked up both sides. “Well, which one is it?”

“I’m looking.” He stopped peering out the window to glance back at her sheepishly. “We, uh, got into it a bit, and I haven’t been over yet. But we’re patching things up.”

Dinah said nothing. She couldn’t exactly criticize him. And if both her ex-husband and daughter were in forgiving moods already, perhaps that was for the better.

He finally picked a spot to parallel park in and they both got out. A dog was barking somewhere off in the distance, and loud music echoed out of a window down the street.

Quentin knocked on the door. When it opened, Dinah couldn’t hold in a gasp.

Five years was five years, yet still they had not prepared her for the differences in her daughter. Laurel’s eyes jumped from Quentin to Dinah, widening for a moment and then narrowing. “What are you doing here?”

Quentin raised his hands up. “Look, this wasn’t me. She came to the station and asked to see you.”

Dinah stepped forward, one hand reaching out. “You’ve changed your hair.”

Laurel drew back before she could quite touch the strands. “So have you.”

Dinah let her arm fall. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Would it be alright if your father and I came in?”

Laurel shrugged and stepped back. They followed her into a tiny living room that was separated from the kitchen only by a pillar with a counter branching out of one side of it. There was a couch and little else in the way of furniture. A hallway that barely fit one person held two doors; presumably bedroom and bathroom.

“Well, it’s… it’s efficient,” she remarked with a smile she hoped didn’t look too forced.

“It’s affordable,” Laurel said bluntly. “But I don’t think you’re here to inspect my living conditions, mom. You didn’t care to for the last five years.”

Dinah looked down. “Yes, I know. But I have something to tell you both, and it’s important.”

Both father and daughter had their arms crossed, staring her down. They’d always been so alike. Dinah squared her shoulders and gathered her breath. “I think Sara’s still alive.”

Quentin’s mouth dropped open. “You- how? You’ve heard from her?”

“No, but I believe she survived.”

Laurel didn’t look the least bit convinced. “If Sara survived the shipwreck, Oliver would have said so.”

“He might not know. I’ve done research. There are countless small islands in the North China Sea that she could’ve washed up on and found food, shelter.”

“What makes you so sure she did?” Quentin asked.

Dinah pulled out her trump card. “There’s a photo of an unidentified girl in the same region. Quentin, look at the hat.” She held the photo out to him and watched his expression turn first incredulous and then hopeful. “It’s just like the one you bought Sara.”

“Yeah, yeah it is,” he agreed softly.

“Yes, because it’s the official Rockets baseball cap sold in countless stores in the city and the stadium,” Laurel pointed out. They both looked up at her frowning face. “Let’s say Sara did make it off the Gambit alive. How did she hang onto a hat for five years and keep it in that good of condition?”

“There’s no proof that she couldn’t have,” Dinah pointed out, her voice far more feeble than she wanted it.

“Then take it to the authorities or the embassies. I don’t know why you’d bring it to me.” Her daughter turned and made as if to settle on the couch.

“Because this is about our family, Laurel,” Dinah snapped. “I know what Sara did hurt you, but don’t you care?”

Laurel stopped on a dime and spun around. “You’re asking if I care about this family? Our family died the same night Sara did. And not just because of that, but because of everything you didn’t do after.” Dinah flinched, yet Laurel continued right on. “Did you ever ask me how I felt? If I was okay? You just left, mom!”

“Honey, come on,” Quentin tried to intercede, but Laurel gave a sharp shake of the head.

“You’ve been chasing a ghost the last five years while dad and I are right here! I’ve been here this whole time, and you didn’t care. And I’m not saying I’m good enough to make up for losing Sara — but I’m… I’m something, aren’t I? Shouldn’t I have been something to you? Something to stay for?” The anger banked by the time she finished, leaving her daughter’s pleading eyes staring at her.

Dinah was at a loss for words for a long moment. “Please, Laurel, I didn’t mean — you and your father have always been so alike. You had each other. I thought you’d be alright. If I’d known that- that something like this—”

She gestured around the cramped space, and her daughter scoffed.

“Believe me, dad has given plenty of lectures.”

“But he has a point. He says you lost your job because you were protecting this- this Hood. You care about him.”

Laurel’s chin raised in defiance. “I care about the good he’s doing for the city.”

Dinah shook her head. “Sweetheart, please. I know what it’s like to feel you need to do something no matter the consequences. No matter who gets hurt. Even if it’s you. Sara was doing the same thing.”

Laurel stilled, and Quentin looked up from his close examination of the floor. “What do you mean?”

“I—” Dinah stopped herself. Could she really say this? If it helped Laurel in any way, it stood to reason that she owed it to her after all this time. “I saw her the day she left.”

“What?” The question was Quentin’s, hoarse and disbelieving.

Dinah bowed her head again. “I came home early and she was packing. She told me everything, said she was in love when I asked her not to go. I said she shouldn’t do it to you, Laurel,” she added, taking a step towards her daughter, who backed up in equal measure. “But Sara always followed her heart, just like me. You’re not that way, Laurel. You can stop this.”

Quentin sat on the arm of the couch, his head in his hands. He probably couldn’t bare to look at her.

Laurel couldn’t seem to look away, even as her lip trembled and her eyes narrowed. “You don’t think I follow my heart?”

Dinah drew back at the iciness in her tone. Laurel took a step back towards her so there were now inches between them.

“What do you think I was following when I agreed to a date with Oliver even knowing his reputation? When I ignored all the texts he must have been sending to other women? When I took out the lease on my old apartment thinking I’d be sharing it with another person? Did you and Sara forget that I loved him, too, or did it just not matter?”

Dinah backed up until she bumped into some shelving set in the wall, but Laurel wasn’t done. It seemed she’d unwittingly broken a dam holding five years of questions and accusations at bay.

“I follow my heart plenty of other places, too, you know? Like to the bars, to drag my father home since he can’t make it back by himself even while he’s wishing I was the one in the ocean instead of Sara. Or when I did work at CNRI, because God knows I wasn’t following a paycheck!” Laurel breathed in and out once harshly, her hands going up to her temples. To Dinah, it looked like she wanted to scream.

“Laurel, I- I’m sorry. If I’d known…”

Laurel let out a bitter laugh. “Well, how could you, mom? You weren’t here.” She walked away into the kitchen, but stopped and leaned against the counter to look at them both again. “Look, I have a friend working at the Chinese Embassy. I’ll send dad her information, and you can ask for her help with your photo as a favor to me. But the next time you come over, try calling first. Send a postcard, maybe.”

She pushed off the counter and walked to the back door, slamming it behind her and leaving a complete silence and stillness in the room.

Quentin was staring at the floor, whether out of disgust with her or shame over the things Laurel had said about him, Dinah wasn’t sure. Eventually, he cleared his throat.

“Let’s, uh… let’s give her some space. You- you got somewhere to stay?”

Dinah shook her head. Laurel’s old apartment had had a spare room and been in a much safer neighborhood. She wasn’t comfortable staying here even if her eldest had offered, but it seemed the polite young lady they had raised was gone, an angry woman who refused to mince her words in her place.

Her ex guided her out the front door with one hand lightly resting on her elbow, as if afraid to touch her fully.

“Well, we’ll find you something,” Quentin said.

Something turned out to be Quentin’s apartment, where she stayed in the guest room at her own insistence. She could see him swallow back the pain and injured pride.

Dinah couldn’t help fearing that Laurel had been right; their family was broken and finding Sara might not be the easy fix she’d hoped it to be.

---

Laurel paced the small lot behind her home in agitation, heart pounding still. It had been so much of what she’d wanted to say for so long — but what was going to happen now?

She’d only just agreed to try mending fences with her father again. Would he be angry with her for what she’d said? Even if it had been the truth.

And her mother. She’d probably just thrown any chances of reconciliation out the window, but why should it be up to her to make amends with a woman who hadn’t bothered to be in her life for five years? She was only here now because of Sara anyway, and she’d likely be gone the minute she found out one way or the other if Sara was alive. If her sister was really alive, maybe her dad would leave, too. The three of them could get along happily being a family together without her.

Laurel had told Oliver once that she was nobody in Starling City now that she’d lost her job as a lawyer to make trouble. He’d disagreed, but the proof was in her sitting room that she had always been a nobody. To the people that should’ve mattered, anyway.

Laurel had always hoped Sara just hadn’t been thinking about her when she got on the boat. That she’d simply been caught up in the euphoria. But to know that their mother had directly appealed to her however briefly on Laurel’s behalf, and that Sara had just ignored that?

God, she’d defended her sister from bullies in school who’d accused her of trying to steal their boyfriends, only for her sister to turn around and do it to her. And it took two, she knew that. But had Sara even felt a sliver of guilt over it all?

She had so many questions for a sister she would never get the answers from. In some ways, like her mother, she was haunted by ghosts.

“Laurel?”

She looked up and to her left. Anita was standing out on the tiny back patio she and Jerome had, an afghan wrapped around her shoulders.

“Hey. Um, what’s up?”

“Heard some shouting. Was kind of impressed you were managing to have a domestic with only one person.”

Laurel grimaced. “I wasn’t alone. My parents decided to drop by unannounced.”

“Ah, family.” Her neighbor nodded, then gestured her over with an arm. “Feel free to hide out here. We can work on your sewing some more.”

Laurel glanced at her back door once before walking across. “You sure I’m not interrupting anything?”

“Nah, Jerome’s out with some friends. I was meeting some of the Salon girls for drinks later, but Izzy’s son came down with something, and it just sort of fell through. You know, canceling plans feels almost better than making them.”

Laurel nodded. “I was always more of a ‘don’t make any plans in the first place’ kind of girl.”

Anita hummed as she got down two glasses from her kitchen cabinet, then grabbed a bottle of red out of the fridge.

“I found some fabric I thought we could add to the inside of one of your jackets. Make it more fun.” She passed Laurel one glass and set hers and the bottle down before rummaging in her supplies. “See, it’s got flowers!”

Laurel felt herself smile. “Yeah. They look like some kind of hibiscus.” It was hard to tell what kind since they were white lines against a hot pink background, but she was getting better at picking out the shapes at least.

They settled on the floor of the sitting room with their wine and their respective work. Laurel could see why Anita did so much sewing. It sort of demanded a concentration that allowed someone to tune out whatever they didn’t want to think about.

Though, halfway through their cups, Anita did ask, “So, is everything gonna be okay after your fight?”

Laurel sighed. “I guess. It’ll probably just go back to the way it was, unless they miraculously do find Sara — my sister.”

Anita nodded. “The girl on the boat? I remember they talked about her on the news when billionaire boy came back.”

“Yeah. Well, because he came back, my mom’s convinced Sara’s still out there, too, and came to us after five years of no contact asking for our help. I… kind of let her have it.”

“I’d hope so. What, she never even called? Checked in?”

Laurel shook her head before finishing off her drink. She held her glass out and Anita refilled it. “But she had plenty to say about my current situation.”

“They always do.”

“And who is she to come in after all these years and judge? Apparently she just assumed I’d be fine. Well, she didn’t do anything to make sure I would be.”

“Something tells me you haven’t been fine for a long time,” Anita observed, and Laurel paused in her next stitch.

“You know, of all the people in my life, I think you’re the first person who’s ever guessed that.”

“You should’ve got yourself therapy while you still had the insurance coverage, hon.”

Laurel met Anita’s eyes and snorted. Her friend soon started laughing with her. They kept laughing until Laurel’s sides hurt and she started listing to the side a little.

She calmed down with a few deep breaths and said. “Well, it’s too late for that, but this helps.”

“Good.”

They each pulled their work back towards them and began anew.

She stayed later than she’d meant to at Anita’s and between the two of them they finished a bottle of wine. As a result, Laurel woke up later than she intended, groggy and hungry. Opening her fridge made her aware that she’d run out of milk which meant no scrambled eggs, one of the few dishes she was starting to perfect.

It’d be easier to run down and grab a breakfast sandwich from Sammy’s, but it’d be cheaper in the long run to get the milk and be able to make herself breakfast for the next week. With a sigh, Laurel shoved her feet in her shoes and left her apartment.

As Laurel approached the corner store she heard the staccato of a hammer hitting a nail. To her growing confusion, as she walked around, she spotted the shopkeeper nailing boards to the windows on the side.

“Mr. Khan?”

“Ah, Laurel!” The man straightened up and wiped his hands on his apron. He hurried inside and she followed him to the counter as he asked, “What can I get for you?”

“I’m just grabbing some milk. Is everything okay?”

“I hope it will be. That’s all I can do, hope,” he replied with a sigh. “The gangs have been getting worse since all the business with Bertinelli and the Triad. Yesterday, a couple of young men came in here asking for a protection fee.”

“They’re trying to start a racket?” Laurel asked with a frown.

“Seems that way. They tell me I have twenty-four hours to come up with the fee.” He wrung his hands in his apron and smiled ruefully. “I’m barely covering my overhead, and they expect me to have more money.”

“Did you try the police?”

“There’s no evidence of a crime, they said. So they want me to wait for these boys to come and destroy my store.”

Laurel shook her head, disgusted. It was so typical of everything going on. And everything she had resolved to help stop the other night.

She turned away from the counter, thinking it over as she retrieved the milk from the cooler. “Mr. Khan, did they say what time they’d be here?”

“Night. But I’ll be closing early. I do not want anyone hurt. I’m glad you came by today in the daytime.”

“Me too.” She wouldn’t have known anything about it otherwise. Laurel took her change and receipt as he handed them to her, then grabbed the jug as well. “Stay safe, okay?”

“Thank you.”

Laurel quick-marched home. As it stood to her mind, she had three options: try reaching out to her father to see if he could persuade a couple officers to change their beat for the night, call Oliver and hope he was willing to suit up so soon after what happened to Mr. Merlyn, or take care of things herself. Which was what she had decided she was going to do, wasn’t it?

Laurel put the milk away and went back into her room, searching through her closet. What could she use to cover up? Some hats, a couple hoodies, a ski mask from back when she used to accompany Oliver and Tommy to Aspen.

Oliver had made do with a ski mask before. Why couldn’t she do the same?

It wouldn’t be enough to just threaten them into going away. Laurel needed weapons. She had a baseball bat and her fists. Maybe not the best odds, but it was better than nothing. And bringing her own gun would be tantamount to just leaving her ID there for the police to find. If the police even bothered to show up.

The sun sank lower in the sky as Laurel paced her apartment like some kind of caged animal. Could she do it? If she did, was it just proof she’d really lost it?

If she did nothing, Mr. Khan could lose everything. It was that thought that finally pushed her out of her door.

She came around from the side of the store, trying to stay out of the lamplight as she pulled the ski mask down over her face. There was no one out front.

Just as she started to lose her nerve again, she picked up the sounds of laughter and loud talking. Four young men with rocks and bricks came down the street, making no secret of their approach.

If she hesitated, they’d start throwing their projectiles. Laurel drew in a breath, pushed away from the wall, and stepped around the corner. The men gradually slowed to a stop as they caught sight of her.

“Hey.”

They stared at her for a minute or so, a couple sniggers breaking out.

“What’s your deal, lady?” One called out.

“My deal is that you’re attacking an innocent man’s livelihood to extort him for your own gain. That’s a crime at the state level.”

None of them seemed to know what to do with that.

“So what?”

She raised the bat meaningfully. That got loud guffaws of laughter for her trouble.

“Khan too cheap to call the Hood for help?”

“I’m not here for anyone but myself.” Her voice and limbs remained steady, but underneath that her heart was hammering so loudly she didn’t know how they all couldn’t hear it. Was she really going to do this? Assault someone in an act that decidedly couldn’t be called self defense?

A rock was thrown, and Laurel ducked on instinct. It smashed against the wall of the shop, narrowly missing a window. She swore under her breath. This wasn’t about keeping herself safe.

A man walked up to her in a swaggering manner, clearly not taking her seriously. Laurel screwed up her nerves and struck him in the chest with the bat.

He staggered back with a yell. She adjusted her hold on the bat, feeling the pulse of her heart in her ears as she readied herself the meet the others now running towards her.

It was a flurry of swings and kicks, everything she remembered from self defense and everything she’d learned from Ted the past few weeks. Like Sara’s old bullies, these boys didn’t have a refined fighting form; they had strength and size on their side. Laurel couldn’t do much about her height, but she’d gotten plenty stronger since her school days.

She was struck in the back and nearly dropped her bat but managed to keep her grip. Laurel growled in the back of her throat, whirling around and swinging it into her attacker’s gut. He grunted and fell back.

One of them tried to grab for her ski mask, and she elbowed him in the face. The other two backed up as he fell and she raised the bat again.

“Still think this is worth it?” Laurel asked.

“She’s crazy!”

“Bitch!”

Laurel took great, heaving breaths as she watched them all stagger and run away into the night. The inside of the ski mask was damp with condensation, and her back was starting to throb with a dull pain — but she felt exhilarated.

She’d done it. She’d really done it. Protected this shop all on her own. No one had even had to die.

She held in the impulse to squeal and placed a hand to her back when it gave a particularly painful twinge. She was going to need to stop by Mr. Khan’s tomorrow for some over-the-counter pain meds.

But as far as she was concerned, worth it? Oh, yeah.

---

She didn’t show up the next two days and when she did, it was with a limp she was trying her best to disguise.

“Rough night?” Ted asked as he passed by her at the punching bag.

Laurel nodded. “Tripped over a curb coming home. Didn’t see it in the dark.”

“Uh-huh.” He kept walking but didn’t really move on.

Ted watched his student with a careful eye. There was something different, alright. A part of him was afraid to look into what it was; a part of him thought he already knew the answer.

And if he did, what could he do about it? He wasn’t the type to call the cops on his students, and anyway if he did what was to stop them thinking he had something to do with it? He’d been let off before, but Ted knew his past wasn’t as distant as he might like.

People got into fights all the time. It didn’t have to mean anything. Even if he could see the gleam in her eye, the spring to her step in spite of the injury. Even if he knew in his heart this wasn’t going to be a one-time occurrence.

But there’d been nothing in the news yet. No reason for him to think anything of it. He’d just have to keep watching and be ready to intervene sooner this time, if she went the same way Isaac did.

God, he hoped not. Because despite his current misgivings, he liked this girl.

---

Oliver kept on with his mission. He had to. Not only was it his father’s dying wish, but if he stopped now people might suspect it had something to do with Mr. Merlyn’s condition. That somehow, he meant something more to the Hood than just a person he hadn’t managed to save from the corruption of this city.

He went back to the list, going tougher on the billionaires and their lackeys that held his city in a chokehold than ever before.

That meant less time at home. As always, Digg had some objections.

“Don’t you think you should take an early day sometime, Oliver? Check in with your family?”

“Thea and my mother are as fine as they will be,” he replied in the middle of a workout. It was his mother he was trying to avoid more than his sister, truth be told.

“And what about you?”

“I’m fine. I see people. I just had lunch with Laurel the other day.”

“So the one person you’re supposed to be keeping your distance from for appearances sake, you’ve been hanging out with.”

Oliver shrugged helplessly.

“You taking McKenna out anytime soon?”

He shook his head. “We talked over the phone yesterday. Decided to call it quits. She’s busy, I’m…”

“The reason she’s busy,” Diggle finished.

“Yeah, and that was probably a sign it wasn’t going to last.” He gave up on the workout and turned to face his friend. “Look, I know you worry about me, John, but this is how things have to be for now.”

They both looked up at the ceiling at the sound of yelling. It wasn’t totally abnormal for Tommy to raise his voice with the contractors, but he thought he recognized the second voice as well. Oliver sighed.

“It never rains but it pours,” Digg remarked.

“I’ll be right back.” Oliver took the stairs two at a time and slipped into the back of the club. Sure enough, it was his sister he’d been hearing.

“So? I’ve been arrested, Tommy. Does that mean I couldn’t get hired here?”

“No, of course not.”

“So what separates my crimes from his?” Thea demanded. “Is it cause I’m rich enough and connected enough that I got off with community service instead of juvie?”

“No!”

Oliver stepped forward to make his presence known. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Thea whirled around as Tommy gave a put upon sigh. “Speedy here wants me to give one of the troublemakers she calls friends a job at the club.”

“Roy’s not one of my old friends,” Thea said when Oliver raised an eyebrow. “He doesn’t do drugs. He just has a bit of a reputation.”

“Yeah, with the police,” Tommy added.

“You try living by yourself in the Glades from childhood and not having a record with the police,” Thea shot back.

“There are programs!” Tommy stated, throwing his arms out in exasperation. “Charities, donation drives, ways for people without means to get what they need. You literally volunteer at a legal aid office for people without money, Thea.”

“And you should see all the people we still don’t help,” Thea remarked while crossing her arms.

“I can see you’re still talking to Laurel,” Tommy returned with a grin that wasn’t the least bit kind.

“So what if I am?”

Oliver cleared his throat. “You know, on the island, I didn’t have any money.” He didn’t miss the way both Thea and Tommy’s eyes widened at the mention of Lian Yu. “And there wasn’t anywhere to pay for anything. You had to just take what you needed.”

“Yeah, well that’s- that’s different, Ollie,” Tommy excused him. “You had to do what you needed to survive.”

“Exactly. No matter where they are, people are going to do what they have to to survive.”

He noticed Thea’s lips curve up in a smile.

“The least we can do is give them a chance to try a better way, Tommy. I’m not saying put him in charge of the register. But if this Roy is serious about wanting honest work, then he can start as a busser.”

“You really mean that, Ollie?” Thea asked.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

She hurried to him and gave him a tight hug, then headed for the door. “Great! Thank you so much. I’m gonna go tell Roy right now!”

Oliver smiled after his sister, then turned to look back at Tommy who seemed far more subdued. “Sorry. I know hiring is your area.”

“Yeah, well, it’s your club,” his friend remarked. He looked up and said. “Which is why I have to resign.”

Oliver reeled back a little in shock. “What?”

“It’s not anything to do with you,” Tommy assured him with a wave of his hand. “Just… Merlyn Global.”

“You’re going to start at the company?” He tried to keep the shock out of his voice. Tommy had never expressed any interest in joining the corporate giant.

But his friend nodded. “With my father in the hospital, I need to start learning more about the company. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me in giving me this job, Ollie. It’s taught me a lot.”

“Well, hopefully it’s taught you enough to get a good start there.”

“You’re not upset?”

“No. I should have realized this was something you needed to do.” He took a couple steps to close the distance between them and reached out to Tommy’s shoulder. “Your dad would be really proud to know you’re continuing his legacy.”

A brief smile flitted across Tommy’s lips. “Let’s hope I actually can.”

They both moved in for a hug. Tommy held on just as tightly as him. Then with a pat on the back apiece, they let go.

“I’ll still see you around,” Tommy promised.

“Yeah. Definitely.”

With that, Oliver was left alone in the club. He walked over to the bar top, where Tommy had clearly been organizing some papers in preparation for him. He’d have to find the time to look through them, and soon.

In some ways, he would sorely miss Tommy’s presence and help around the club. On the other hand, it was hard to be around him right now without the guilt eating away at him. He took the papers into Tommy’s little office at the back and noticed a wilting pot of alstroemerias sitting in the corner.

One thing was for sure. Diggle probably wouldn’t like the fact that yet another person would be in his life less.

#lauriver #laurel x oliver #laurel lance #oliver queen #arrow #green arrow #black canary #my writing #bird in a storm

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storytellerssanctum · 5 years ago

Text

Petals & Thorns - chapter 12/?

Pairing: Fred Weasley x oc

Warnings: none

Word count: 2.2k

SONG OF THE CHAPTER - they don’t know about us • one direction

George Weasley was suspicious. He was concerned about where his brother continued to disappear to. He was worried about the fact he had stopped flirting with girls in the common room. Fred was being sneaky, and George didn't like it. They were supposed to be sneaky, together. Being left in the dark was not something he enjoyed. George had an idea of what could be his twins issue, but he had no proof. Whatever Fred and Adalinda Malfoy were up to, they were good at hiding it. So, George did what he knew he could pull off. He wanted answers, and he knew exactly how to get them.

In the dorm he shared with his brother, George found himself rummaging through his brothers trunk. He pulled out some of Fred's clothes, and changed into them. Honestly, they weren't much different than his. He did it just to be sure, though. If he was going to pretend to be his brother, he should at least do everything he could to be convincing. Once he changed, he left his room and trotted down the stairs. In the common room, he saw his brother and Hermione sitting on the couch by the fire. He wasn't sure where Harry was. His youngest brother looked over at him, giving him a narrowed gaze.

"Hey, Fred." George bit back a smile. It was working. "Where's George?" Ron asked.

"Haven't seen him, would you let me know if you do, though? I have something I have to run by him." George knew exactly where Fred was. He had went to the quidditch pitch with Angelina, Alicia and Katie. They wanted to keep up their skill even if they wouldn't be playing this year. George declined the offer when they asked him, having another plan in mind. Fred wouldn't be around for a while, so it gave him plenty of time to execute his idea. Ron gave him a nod, and George snuck through the portrait hole. He figured Adalinda would be in one of two places; the library, or her common room. She didn't stray much now.

After her weeks absence, the twins both noticed she didn't go many places. She was rarely ever with her boyfriend anymore, and usually had Lucian by her side. George had not heard if the two broke up, but he did notice a decline of interest in each other. He figured if they did split ways, everyone would know. For the first few days after her time off, Adrian clung to her like a newborn. Now, they rarely looked at each other. George carried himself down the hallway with a stagger that highly resembled his twins. He knew their statures held a difference. It was one of the only ways people could really tell them apart. George mimicked Fred's as best he could, keeping up his charade. He took the path to the library. When he got to the door, he peeked through the window to see if she was inside. When he saw her nose-deep in a potions textbook, he made his move.

She barely looked up at him when he opened the door. Her head was buried into the pages, she was deaf to the world around her. George suddenly didn't know what to do from there. He had a plan, large and deeply thought out, but it was gone now that she was in front of him. Maybe his genius wasn't as great as he believed. If he said the wrong thing, and there was nothing going on between Fred and Adalinda, he might ruin any chance Fred would get with her. George truly didn't believe Addy paid enough attention to tell he wasn't Fred. He thought if his costume could fool Ron, their own brother, it could fool anyone. That wasn't what he was worried about. He was scared that she would be rude, angry with him for talking to her. Then, George would know he was right about her personality.

He cleared his throat and took a seat across from her. He saw her eyes gaze over the cover of the book. "Hello, George Weasley." She said, softly. She looked back down as soon as she spoke the words. He was baffled at her use of his name. She couldn't have looked at him longer than a few seconds, and she already knew. "Can I help you with something?" She asked. She didn't sound malicious, but he saw her sweep the library for anybody. When she didn't see another person, she set the book down. George was at a loss for words.

"Uh, I'm Fred." He tried. He noticed a small smile toy at the corner of her lips, but she pushed it away.

"Sorry, Fred. You guys are so much alike. I have a hard time telling you apart." She sighed, playing along. She knew it wasn't Fred sitting in front of her. Fred wouldn't dare sit with her in public like George was. He knew better. Besides, George didn't hold the same adoration in his face. "So, what can I help you with?" She smiled and looked over her shoulder, peering into the hallway through a window. She was making sure nobody could see them.

"I just... was wondering if you were okay? You missed some time a couple weeks ago. You've been a bit different since."

"Yeah, just had a bout of the flu. I'm still getting over it." She responded, closing her book. "Is that all that brings you here?" She eyed him suspiciously. George could tell she didn't believe he was Fred. It made him anxious. Her intelligence was unmatched by many people.

"Yeah, I just wanted to make sure." George gave a smile.

"Thanks... Fred." She said, leaning forward. "Why do you have so much interest in a Slytherin, Weasley?" Her tone was changing. It was less welcoming and more inquisitive.

"I was curious." George gave, pathetically.

"Does your brother know you're pretending to be him?" She whispered, the words falling slowly off her tongue. George felt his heart race. Even if she was a Slytherin, she was intoxicating to be around. Her eyes felt like they were pulling him into a dream. "I'm no saint," George watched her lips move. "But I don't think identity theft is very nice."

"How do you know?" George snapped himself out of his trance.

"I know everything, George Weasley." She opened her book again, leaning back in her seat. He watched her in amazement. "What were you trying to find out?" Her eyes acted as if he wasn't in the room with her. She sounded disinterested.

"I..." He was at a loss of words. "I just wanted to know if you knew where my brother keeps disappearing to."

"Why would I have any idea where he keeps himself?" She snapped. She was making herself seem icy. "I haven't spoken more than a sentence to your brother." George was confused, but he noticed someone had walked in the library. It was a Hufflepuff, but she couldn't risk anyone discovering her hidden kindness. "I don't keep company of blood traitors." She hissed. George looked over at the Hufflepuff, who had woven themselves into the rows of bookshelves. They couldn't hear them anymore.

"You're not as mean as you act." George smiled, speaking quietly.

"I don't need to be mean to someone who knows I hate them." She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

"Whatever you say, Malfoy." George stood.

"Keep dreaming, Weasley." She called out as he turned away. "Dress in your own clothes next time." George exited the room, shaking his head in disbelief.

Meanwhile, Fred had returned to the common room. He was followed by Alicia Spinett and Angelina Johnson. Katie Bell had filtered out of their group on their travels back. He saw Ron sitting with his two friends. He looked over and his brother gave him a wave. "You find Fred yet?" Fred gave him a quizzical look.

"I am Fred, you tosspot." He shot. "You call yourself our brother." He shook his head, making his way to his dorm. When he got into his room, he noticed his trunk open. Ron usually never got the two of them messed up. Something strange happened, but Fred was unsure of what. He grabbed a change of clothes, nonetheless, and made his way to the showers. He jumped in, washing away the sweat he picked up from their mock quidditch practice. Just because it was winter didn't mean flying around and dodging balls was easy work.

He got out and dressed himself, walking back to his room. When he got there, he saw his brother getting changed. The clothes on the floor below him belonged to Fred. Fred gave a look to his twin, putting the pieces of the situation together. He took a seat on his bed as George pulled a new shirt over his head. When George noticed him, Fred spoke. "Whatcha doin' in my clothes, George?" He asked. "Couldn't find a clean shirt?"

"Yeah, that's about it." Fred grabbed his wand and flicked open George's trunk.

"Looks like you have plenty of clothes in there." Fred pointed out. His brother gave him a look from the side of his eye. "Wanna tell me what's really going on?"

"Maybe you should go first." George collapsed on his own bed. "You've been disappearing all the time, nobody knows where you're going. You don't talk to me anymore." Fred debated. George was always good at keeping a secret. They had an unspoken twin secrecy. They were loyal to each other.

"I'll tell you if you tell me." They chimed, simultaneously. They both chorused laughter.

"Seriously, I will. You first." Fred urged.

"I was pretending to be you." George smirked.

"That's usual, why for this time?"

"I wanted to talk to Malfoy." Fred furrowed his eyebrows. "I asked her if she was okay, why she missed school," he explained. "If she knew where you were all of the time." He nearly whispered the last part.

"Why her, George?" Fred groaned. "You couldn't have asked me?"

"You wouldn't have told me!" George defended himself. "I wanted answers, and I thought she might know!" He paused. "Besides, she's not very informative anyway. She's mean when she's not alone."

"She's not that bad." Fred offered. His brother let out a scoff.

"How would you know, you've never spoken to her. She made that pretty clear today." Fred re-thought about what he was going to tell his twin. Maybe he shouldn't. At the same time, George might do more stupid acts like the one he pulled today. Fred believed it might be safer to just be honest with him. Addy would understand. Unbeknownst to Fred, Addy's brother already knew. She couldn't be mad if Fred told George because Draco had already been informed. It was a different circumstance, but he was still aware. The fact wasn't blame, but the risk of somebody else finding out. If one of their siblings let the truth slip, they were in for a hell of a ride. "Fred? You haven't spoken to her, right?"

"If I tell you this you have to swear secrecy. This is more private than anything we've ever told each other." Fred pointed a finger at his brother. He stood and peeked around the corner of their door, making sure no one was in the hallway. "Alright?" He asked, bringing his head back inside.

"Yeah."

"We've been seeing each other." George didn't say anything. He gave his brother a suspicious eye, but stayed silent. "Since Hallowe'en. We've been keeping it a secret."

"You've been hiding this from me for months?" George sounded hurt. It was just after the second task. It was early March now, meaning their secret relationship had been hidden for about four months.

"It was for our safety, Georgie. Her family wouldn't react well if they found out. I wanted to tell you. I want to tell everyone, but you know what her family is like." Fred consoled. "Her father is adamant on her being with Pucey. She'd get punished if anyone found out. She said they might be angry with us, too. Lucius could make dad lose his job."

"Then why are you so obsessed with her? If being with her is so dangerous, and she still has to be with her git of a boyfriend, what is the appeal?" George didn't understand. "Obviously it'd be so much easier if you just got rid of her."

"George, I can't just 'get rid of her'. I have feelings for her. I want to spend the rest of my life with her."

"As a secret? Is it really worth it? I mean, if she's going to marry Adrian, and you can never really be together, there's no point."

"She said we could be together after we're finished school, when she doesn't have to live with her parents anymore." Fred defended Addy. He would have said anything to protect her, even if his explanations were feeble.

"That's just an excuse until you graduate. After that, she'll make another one. It's not worth it, Fred. You'll get hurt."

"She'll prove you wrong, George. She's not a true Malfoy. She's so much better than them."

"Fred, she will always be a Malfoy. At the end of the day, you'll just be another blood traitor to her."

Tags: @peachy-lalisa @play-morezeppelin

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