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bookishofalder · 4 years ago

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Just Breathe

Pairing: Adam Driver X Reader (GN!Reader)

A/N-In this fic, AD is single. Inspired by my own love for makeup and the alternate life I’d have enjoyed as a film makeup artist. I also think this ended up with the reader being gender neutral!

Warnings: Mutual pinning. Kissing. Caffeine addiction.

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You took a long, deep breath, focusing on clearing your mind and settling yourself into professional mode. This was a routine, which used to simply be automatic for you, until you started working this new movie trilogy and your world flipped.

Just breathe.

You had been ecstatic when you got the call-key makeup artist for the new Star Wars movies! It was an absolute dream come true, after years working hard as a makeup artist for smaller films and television shows, building your experience. Now you were the lead, which meant you were going to be working with main character actors, a chance to really prove yourself, under the direction of the production designer. You would get to design concepts for their appearances and execute the approved designs.

And not to mention, you were a huge Star Wars geek, having grown up watching the films with your dad, who was an original geek. You would watch them every year on his birthday together, a tradition that you carried out regardless of where in the world you were working from on set, you would stay up all night and video call him while watching, if you had to. You never missed a single year.

But now, it was years later and you were working on set of the final instalment, which was bittersweet in so many ways. You just needed to breath.

Because since day one of production on these movies, you’ve been in love with the lead actor, and it’s been chipping away at your soul. Because it’s one thing to imagine being with someone unattainable for fun, but when you spend a lot of time in that persons presence and over time realize how perfect they are to you, it can drive you up the wall.

Adam Driver was kind, funny and serious. He and you hit it off really well when you met, he was always keen to hear your thoughts on his characters appearance, and he’d even asked you recently to join him on the next press tour as his stylist and makeup artist. That in itself was an amazing opportunity, one that would continue to launch your career into orbit. You adored working with him, and spent a lot of your down time missing him, his corny jokes and soft looks and overall presence. Because that man took up a lot of space, which seemed to affect you in many ways, all good.

You felt like that character in Love Actually, played by Laura Linney, who was in love with Carl. Except, you were sure you hid it well, and you were always the most professional colleague. However, pining over a celebrity felt too ridiculous, too common, and you were hard on yourself constantly for it. You convinced yourself every morning that it was simply a crush, one that would fade if you kept yourself focused and reminded yourself daily of the type of person he could date, if he wanted to.

Yet, here you were, needing to breath, because he was on his way to the makeup trailer for end of day cleanup and you needed to get your head in the game, figuratively shoving your feelings down. Daisy had finished and left already, while your makeup assistant Bailey was hurrying about tidying the trailer, avoiding your station, and moving some of the equipment into the storage area. Soft classical music was playing on the Bluetooth speakers, and the smell of peppermint tea you had brewed was calming you somewhat.

Glancing in the mirror, you adjusted your hair, smoothed down your apron and internally chastised yourself for bothering to check. Setting down your tea, you looked over your set up, ensuring you had everything needed, though end of day was always the easier part on this set for you. You didn’t exactly envy the hard work that the SFX make up team had on both sides of the day, but you were always beyond impressed with their beautiful work.

The door to the trailer opened and immediately, you felt his presence. Adam stepped inside, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, his hair and face still fully set to Kylo Ren’s appearance, which always made you smile, as the contrast was hilarious.

“Evening, y/n, Bailey.” He said, nodding to you both before sitting down heavily into his chair. He smiled at you warmly, looking tired. You quickly set a headband on his head, pushing all the hair from his face carefully.

“How are you, Adam?” You briefly met his soft eyes, which were fixed on your own. If you didn’t spend so much timing beating yourself up for liking him, you might have noticed his eyes often following you, or his soft smiles, or the way he sometimes stiffened when your hands ran through his hair or down his face as you worked on him.

But you never did seem to notice. “I’m good, tired today, this week’s caught up with me.” He rumbled. You hoped he couldn’t hear your heart rate pick up every time he spoke. Although, it had been like this for years and he hadn’t complained yet. Or he’d grown used to it. ‘Shut up, brain’, you thought.

“I’m not surprised, after the fiftieth take of this scene I got tired watching you!” It was true too, having to be on set at all times during filming meant a lot of time spent watching the actors at work, and since Adam insisted on doing his own stunts, a lot of the scenes he was in were physically gruelling. You didn’t know how he did it, and despite his words you knew if he was called back to set for any retakes, he’d spring from the chair full of energy and ready to work.

His dedication was an astounding trait that impressed you from the start, never wavering. His serious, hardworking personality only had you falling harder.

He chuckled at your words, his eyes closing automatically as you spritzed his face with a gentle solution you liked for removing the prosthetic scar. He kept them closed as you worked, peeling off the wound with delicate fingers. You didn’t know that he kept them closed because when you were really focused on something, you bit your lip in a way that made his blood warm, in a way that gave him trouble with tearing his gaze away.

“I saw Bailey sneak you a latte, though, which I’m pretty sure means I’ve won our bet.” Your hands stilled at his words, and he peaked up at you, a devilish grin quickly spreading across his face freckled, handsome face.

You faked offence, scoffing “I don’t know what you mean, it was decaf.” Adam gave a bark of a laugh at your lie, shaking his head.

“Just admit it, you’re a caffeine addict.” He’d been teasing you for years for constantly having caffeinated beverages within reach, and you’d recently, stupidly, agreed to a bet where you would stick to one a day for a month. If you won, he had to forever leave you alone about it, and if he won he could continue to tease you for infinity.

“I believe the terms of our bet allowed for one slip up, actually.” You pouted, jutting your chin out slightly. You continued working, getting his skin cleaned and recovered from the makeup, pretending to be unbothered by the fact that he had noticed Bailey sneak you the latte on set. And you tried not to overthink why he would have been looking at you in the first place.

Adam considered your words for a moment, “Yes,” he said slowly, “But today is only day two of this bet, and you’ve already slipped up.” You were smiling now, the joy evident in his tone was contagious. Still, you rolled your eyes.

“I’m only human, you know, but I am competitive.” You hoped you sounded convincing. You weren’t sure you cared about winning the bet, really.

He continued to grin at you, but made no response. You settled into a comfortable silence together as you made your way through the end of day skin care routine you developed for Adam during the first movie. You had one for each of the main actors, and they’d all impressed you with their dedication in following them. You weren’t good at giving yourself credit, though. Everyone knew a skin care routine curated by you was priceless.

“You need me to stick around, y/n?” Bailey asked, popping out from the back of the trailer where the storage area was. She gave you a pointed look, which you promptly ignored.

“No, go on ahead and start your weekend, Bailey, I’m almost done here, thank you.”

“Night, Bailey!” Adam waved. Bailey bid them both goodnight and left, leaving you alone with Adam. You cursed yourself, feeling foolish. You meant to be genuinely nice to Bailey, who worked hard and deserved the break, but usually you kept her around at times like this to ensure you weren’t left alone with the object of your daydreams. When no one else was around, you had no witnesses to any comments that Adam made that you might consider flirtatious. And while you assumed handsome celebrities like him would probably inherently flirt with others as second nature, you never understood why he would flirt with you. It confused you entirely.

You felt your nerves suddenly rear up, and your hands shook very slightly as you removed the calming sheet mask you had placed on Adam. His eyes followed your hands, but he said nothing. You’d been alone plenty of times before, but every time you would turn into a nervous, silly mess, overanalyzing every comment he made and every word you managed to sputter.

You didn’t know it, but Adam always wished for more time alone with you. He knew you well, and could recognize your nerves and always wondered why being alone with him made you nervous. He hoped it was because you liked him, but he was helpless at flirting, and didn’t know how let you know how he felt. He didn’t want to overstep, or make you uncomfortable. You were both technically working, and he felt you probably had much more appealing options for partners outside of work.

Tonight, though, for the first time, you were both exhausted, under caffeinated and, though neither of you would openly admit it, lonely. Years of longing the other, feeling hopeful, was going to catch up to you both tonight.

“Okay, head froward for me please,” He complied, and you expertly ran your hands into his hair, pulling smoothing serum through the thick locks with gentle care. As you focused, applying liberal amounts, you noticed Adam’s hands clench the chairs arms. “Is that okay?” You worried you’d hurt him.

He tilted his head back and met your eyes. He was so tall that even sitting in his makeup chair, his eyes were level with yours. It was nice not needing to adjust his seat, as you needed to do constantly for most of the actors, but it also meant a lot of time face to face, learning to read one another. Your hands were still in his hair. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a voice of reason was telling you to calmly remove your hands and step back. But the look he was giving you had you frozen to the spot. You’d never read that expression on his face before, his eyes were dark, serious.

His eyes searched yours for a moment longer, “Yeah, y/n.” His voice came out quiet, soft. You think maybe your heart would stop working, because he wasn’t looking away. You couldn’t understand his expression, he seemed to be searching for something in your own.

Finally, you managed to pull your gaze away. Quickly removing your hands, you stepped back, smoothing down your apron nervously, “I-I mean, you’re all set, Adam, unless you need anything else from me?” Why was your voice so quiet? And your face, it felt hot.

You needed to get out of this trailer, away from this man-he was having such a strong affect on you. You rationalized that it was simply because you were tired, you really had cut down significantly on caffeine and this was the result, your sleepiness was lowering your defences and he was noticing you were acting strange. That was all it was.

Adam stood, frowning slightly, but didn’t move away from you. Now, he was right in front of you and you had to tilt your head back just to see beyond his chest. You glanced up at him, and his eyes seemed to soften.

“You’ve really been cutting back on coffee, haven’t you?”

You nodded, “Told you, I’m competitive.” Your voice was breathy, like you’d been running. What the hell was wrong with you, you wondered.

Adam smiled, “I know, I love that about you.” You thought maybe you were now hearing things, and simply stared up at him in surprise, his words genuine, warm.

“Thank-um, thank you, Adam, that means a lot, coming from you.” Now, you were basically whispering. Yet your voice sounded much too loud.

He tilted his head, took a careful step closer, the gap between you nearly gone now. His overall hugeness as he stood over you made you feel safe, and a jolt ran through to your core. “I love a lot of things about you, y/n. Like, how you’re face gives what you’re thinking away, if the person knows you well enough, and you know that about yourself so you try to hide it. You look away, before someone reads you-but I’ve gotten pretty good at catching your expressions,” The low timbre of his voice was doing things to you, and you couldn’t look away from Adam now, “And right now, I think I do know what you’re thinking. Can I test my theory?”

He was asking permission, for what you didn’t know, but at this point you’d have given it no matter what. So you nodded, “S-sure.” You saw the look in his eyes shift, his gaze moving to your lips.

Despite noticing this, it still caught you entirely off guard when Adam leaned down, his hands moving to your face, gently, and caught your lips with his own. So off guard, that you immediately moaned in surprise. You felt Adam freeze, and wondered if you’d messed up, but before you could open your eyes to check, he pressed you against the wall behind you and resumed kissing you with renewed fervour. You felt yourself returning the kiss, mirroring his movements, entirely caught up in him. His tongue ran across your lips and you parted them, allowing him to taste you as he deepened the kiss.

And you tasted him, his breath minty and overwhelmingly him, you felt drunk, dizzy. You moaned again, and he pulled away, still holding your face, “Sweetheart, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He breathed, his pupils blown, face flushed. His gaze was intensely affectionate.

You had to catch your breath, “I didn’t think...I’m just a makeup artist, Adam, I-“

But he cut you off, shaking his head, “Don’t do that, how do you not realize how amazing you are, y/n? You take my breath away every time I see you, and it’s not just because you’re beautiful,” He punctuated his words with a peppering of kiss along your cheeks, “It’s how funny you are, how hardworking, your talent and vision, the way you take care of me and the others, how kind and sweet and goofy you are-I’ve been in love with you for a long time, for a million different reasons.”

Tears threatened at his words, and you had to work to blink them back, “I think I’m dreaming.” You breathed, feeling silly, but he grinned, and shook his head. You returned the smile, gazing up at Adam in wonder, before reaching up with both hands to caress his face, the gesture so much more intimate than it had been when you worked on his skin. His eyes closed briefly, but opened again when you spoke, “I love you too, you know, always have.”

In an instant, his lips were on yours again, this time the intensity was burning, smouldering. Entirely too much and yet no where near enough. You pushed your hands into his hair and he groaned against you, his hands gripping your face and it felt like you couldn’t get close enough to him. He dropped one hand to your waist, pulling your body flush to his, then slid his other into your hair. You weren’t sure how long you stayed like this, fully ablaze in each others arms, but you never wanted it to stop.

When you did break apart, breathless and flushed, Adam was the first to speak, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine, “Would you like to come over to my hotel?”

You nodded, still standing close against him, “I’d really love that.” And you leaned up, on your tip toes, to plant a chaste kiss on his nose, unable to stop smiling.

Adam hugged you close again, planting a few affectionate kisses to your cheeks and hair, before stepping back, watching you as you gathered your things quickly. He took your bag from you as you pulled off your apron and threw on your coat, and you followed him out, feeling giddy.

“We might have to end our bet, by the way.” Adam held open the passenger door for you, when you reached his car, and watched your confusion at his words.

“Why’s that?”

He leaned down, his eyes dark in a way that had you mesmerized, “You’re going to need a lot of caffeine when I’m done with you, sweetheart.” He murmured softly, his voice laced with cheek, and yet you shivered.

You met his gaze, grinning, while internally you had to remind yourself to breath.

Just breath.

#adam driver x reader #adam driver #reader insert #oneshot #first post #romance #star wars #constructive critism welcome #new to the community

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years ago

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Chapter One. Welcome to Sweetland

the scene is set in 1956, a young man moved to Hollywood to follow his dreams of becoming an actor. But with little money and a struggle to keep his apartment, he is approached by a man who offers him a job at Sweetland

a/n: THE FIRST CHAPTER IS FINALLY HERE! this story is loosely based on the Netflix series ‘Hollywood’. just the general concept of it and ofc adding my own twist to it. I hope you enjoy this as much as I loved writing it! happy reading <3

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please rb to share <3

The familiar click of his boots onto the tiled shiny floor is what Harry looked forward to all the time.

He found motivation as he walked down the hall as he passed by locals pacing back and forth with their fingernails in their mouths or sitting on chairs against the wall as they nervously chatted with one another. Some of the girls glanced at him seductively as he walked, making his confidence shoot up a bit. Harry took each and every single one of them in; telling himself to not let their anxiousness get the better of him because he was better than them, he was more good looking than them, and he was a better actor than them. At least that’s what his self affirmations tell himself every morning.

The bright light shining from above him as he takes each step made him feel like a spotlight. He put on his best game face and walked confidently as he wore a white crisp button down shirt with a yellow polka vest, blue flared jeans, and red boots. It was his lucky outfit and one of his favorites. It was a stuffy outfit for the hot weather in Hollywood, but he needed to look dashing. Plus they were all a steal in the clearance section!

“Harry! Over here!” He saw Mikey waving over at him at the end of the hall. Harry waved back at him as he hurriedly walked towards him.

“Hey, Mikey. How is it in there?” He asked as they tried peeking into the room everyone has been waiting to have a chance to get into.

“Man, it’s crazy. Everyone in there is so intimidating!” Mikey shook his head as he looked up at Harry. He was a tad bit shorter than Harry, but he was humorous and the camera always loved a funny person.

Harry and Mikey met in front of the gates at Paramount Studios almost a year ago. They were both standing right next to each other amongst the hundreds of people waving their hands up in the air as they tried to get the attention of the casting directors. But in the midst of it all the chaos, Harry had accidentally elbowed Mikey’s head, which caused him to get infuriated and led them to a fight.

“Think you can go fucking around elbowing people, huh?” Failed punches were being thrown at one another as they tackled each other to the ground; a crowd had circled around him. Despite Mikey’s height, he was underestimated. He was feisty, tough and can pretty much handle anyone.

But that fight had been broken up by security, and somehow and some way, the casting directors found that entertaining and picked the both of them to be an extra. They were both ecstatic, not knowing a so-called fist fight would lead them to being an extra on set. Of course, it was hard to work with one another after the fight they had caused. But after throwing looks at one another, they figured it was best to get along and work together.

And they found out they had many things in common and respected each other’s dislikes. Since then, they’ve been by each other’s side.

“I’m sure you did great. Don’t sweat it,” Harry patted Mikey’s shoulder, reassuring him from his audition.

“Oh, oh! They’re coming! Get ready!”

Two older women walked out of the doors of the room that was frightening but exhilarating all at once. Everyone rushed to the entrance of the door, putting on their best smiles and mystery looks as the two women looked around to find their perfect face. Harry stood still, not putting on his best look as a way to tell them he was trying too hard.

“Alright, here’s how this is going to work,” one of the women screamed out to the eager crowd. She was tough as she wore an all black dress that stopped below her knees and 2 inch heels. Her expression was stern, giving everyone a hard look as they listened to her. “I’m going to choose two of you to walk inside with us and you will be given a chance to audition. We want to see the best actors and actresses to give us the performance of a lifetime.”

“Everyone ready?” The other woman in purple said and everyone nodded their heads. “Please get into two lines on both sides of the wall.” The crowd did so. Harry being the first one in the line since Mikey saved him a spot. Nervous was an understatement for Harry. He wanted to be chosen and this can finally be the start of the career he’s been dreaming of.

The two women glanced at everyone as they walked between the lines, looking at everyone’s smiles and anxious looks. Everyone’s heads turned as they walked passed by them, frowns present on their faces as they didn’t get chosen.

After a few minutes, Harry heard their heels clicking onto the floor as they were walking back. He turned his head and saw a girl walking behind them as she beamed in excitement. A small frown was placed on his face, feeling as his hopes have been crushed.

Suddenly, he felt their presence stop walking and stopped in front of him. His head immediately was brought back up to look at them, frown was replaced by a small smile.

“You’re good looking,” the lady in black said with no emotion. Her stare was intimidating, making Harry stutter.

“T-Thank you,” he cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he said again more clearly.

“Can you smile for me?” She asked. Harry gave her his best smile. The one that wasn’t too bright nor the one that wasn’t too small. But he gave his charming smile, making his dimples pop out. She looked at him for a few seconds as she stared into his eyes before she said, “Okay, come with me.” And she walked off into the room followed by the other director and the girl that they picked.

Harry couldn’t believe that they actually picked him. He turned towards Mikey and he was smiling so big, giving him a big thumbs up and a pat on his shoulder.

“Go get ‘em kid!” He lightly pushed him towards the door as Harry felt his feet were stuck to the ground from the shock.

Entering the room, he was met by the eyes of three other producers sitting at a long table. They had their coffees in front of them and a notepad with a pen, looking through a list of actors and actresses they’ve come across.

“Okay, just wait here as we prepare. Names?” the lady in purple positioned Harry and the other girl in the center of the room in front of the table of people that would dictate his future as she got their names before walking back to the table.

The room was freezing and Harry shook as he got shivers down his spine.

“Nervous?” The girl said next to him.

“Yeah, a bit. You?”

“Eh, I’m doing okay. Not my first audition,” she said in a bragging tone, and Harry just simply nodded. She was a small petite girl with long hair as she wore a pink pleated skirt with a pink striped top. Her hair was short as it curled up towards the end of it, giving her a more girly and preppy look. “I’m Brandy,” she introduced herself.

“Harry.” They softly and quickly shook hands.

“Say, Harry, how about we have a little fun after this audition?” Harry looked down at her and she gave him a brow raise with a teasing smirk.

“Uh-” Harry hesitated and luckily, they were interrupted.

“Okay, you two. Since we planned on not doing any scripts for this audition, you’re going to need to improvise. Show us your true and natural talent. I’ll set the scene: you two are at a party and are about to break up. Okay? Ready? Action!” One of the producers told them hurriedly, giving them no time to take it all in.

Harry and Brandy turned towards each other, and Harry’s face was immediately met with the palm of Brandy’s hand, giving him a hard and loud slap to his cheek. Harry’s head whipped to the side, covering the sting with his hand.

“What the fuck?” Harry asked in shock.

“How dare you break up with me! You don’t get to break up with me,” Brandy’s eyes were immediately filled with tears, and Harry wondered how she was so quick to make herself cry like that.

“I-I’m sorry. But it’s not my fault I caught you fucking some other guy!” Harry retorted back. Brandy’s tears had fallen onto her face, and Harry’s face remained annoyed.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. It didn’t mean anything. I promise I won’t do it again,” she grabbed his hands as she pleaded.

“No,” Harry started softly, feeling sympathy for his co-partner. “This has to end. It’s for the best-”

“CUT!” One of the men screamed out, interrupting their scene.

“Great, great job guys. That’s all we need. Brandy, come see us. Harry, you’re free to go.”

Brandy squealed beside him, walking towards the table to possibly talk about a contract and a part in a film while Harry slowly walked back to the entrance that was now his exit, feeling completely gutted. He thought he did fairly well; if they had given them more time, he would’ve been able to continue on and show them what they’re really missing. But that was their decision, and Harry had no choice but to try again the next time.

As he exited the room, he was immediately met by Mikey waiting for him with a big and hopeful smile.

“Well? Got that contract you wanted?” He asked.

Harry shook his head in defeat. “Gonna try again the next time. Didn’t fully get to show my talent y’know?” He said as the two friends walked towards the exit of the building. Mikey put his arm around Harry’s body, hand resting on top of his shoulder.

“There will be plenty of more auditions to come. Don’t worry,” Mikey reassured his friend as they walked out the door to be met with the bright shining light of the California sun.

“S’alright. Gotta keep goin’,” Harry said, convincing himself not to give up as he places a cigarette between his lips and lighting it up.

“That’s the spirit! But listen, I gotta get going. The family needs me, but I’ll see you at the next audition! Be there!” Mikey bid him goodbye as he was walking away from him. Harry waved at him, watching his friend walk home to his family.

And Harry needed a drink.

He found himself at a bar close to his apartment. It was midday so no one was really at the bar except about four other people, chatting and playing pool. He was drinking whiskey, downing glass after glass, needing something stronger than a beer as he had a tough and long day.

“Long day, kid?” A man with a full head of grey hair and grey mustache asked. He was very attractive for an old man. Looked very classy and proper, probably had a good job because he just looked fucking rich; while Harry is struggling to find a stable job to pay off his bills.

Harry scoffed, “You have no idea.” He called for the bartender, getting his attention. “Can I get another one of these please?” The bartender sighed, shaking to himself while getting Harry another drink; his fifth one in just 10 minutes. Once the bartender set his drink down, Harry simply picked it up and threw it down his throat as if it was mouthwash.

“What’s got you like this?” The man asked curiously. Harry turned towards him, giving him a look up and down. He’s usually very polite with meeting new people and is usually shy, but with the alcohol in his system on top of the horrible day he had, it was like he was a different person. He’s usually the soft and cuddly type when he’s buzzed or drunk, but again, he just had a bad day.

“Ya wanna know?” He didn’t wait for the man’s answer, but he nodded anyway. “Well, for starters, got a fuckin’ audition earlier because y’know, that’s what I do. I’m an actor. Anyways, I do the audition that they picked me out of, like, 50 people, and this girl who bragged about having plenty of auditions. And when we start, not even 5 minutes as we start actin’, they stop us! Thought they were lovin’ what we were doin’ that’s why they stopped us, but she told that Brandy girl to meet them after and dismissed me, like for fuck sakes!” Harry was seething as he was telling the story, and practically everyone was listening in since he was talking so loudly.

“Sorry about that, kid. But that’s what you do huh? You act?” The man asked, placing his cigar in his mouth.

“Yeah. Tryin’ to make a fuckin’ living and I’ve been struggling keeping my apartment,” he rolled his eyes, trying to remember the next due date was for his rent and electricity bill.

“It’s a tough world out there. But hey, what do you say you work for me?” The man offered and Harry’s brows furrowed.

“Don’t even know your name.”

“Well if you must know, like you didn’t just tell me your whole life story, I’m Daren,” he offered a hand to shake, and Harry takes it.

“Harry. So what exactly do you do?” Harry wondered.

“I work for a candy store,” he simply stated.

“A candy store…” Harry repeated and Daren nodded. “What the fuck am I gonna do at a candy store?”

“Simple. It’s like a self-serve candy store, but my workers serve them instead. Just grab a bag and they tell you what they want, and you get it. Simple as that,” he explained. “You’re an attractive man! Got the face and everything, and considering you’re tall, bet you’re packing down there too,” Daren said nonchalantly.

“Are you offering me a job or you’re gonna compliment my cock?” He wondered why the sudden mention of his cock came to play, but brushed it off. Harry hadn’t realized that he would be working at a candy store when he moved to Hollywood. He had big dreams, and he wanted to follow his dreams by getting as many auditions as he can and be in front of the camera, not work in candyland.

“Both. Just think about it. You’d be making a lot of money working there—hell of a lot more than minimum wage. And I’m talking about starting at $30 for an entire day. You can’t pass that deal up! And you just said it yourself that you can’t afford to keep your apartment. I mean, let’s face it. When are you going to get another audition? You’ve already gotten rejected from the one today!” Harry was breathing out of his nose, practically huffing at him as Daren mentioned the rejection. He knew that what Daren said was right, but Harry was hard headed and didn’t want to believe him.

“Sorry, mate,” he stood from his chair, grabbing his wallet from his back pocket as he set out a $10 bill on the counter. “Thank, but no thanks,” he told Daren, pride getting in the way.

“Well, my offer is still on the table. I’m located on Sunset, so you know where to find me once you get what I said through your ass,” he said louder than usual as Harry was walking away with no look back, exiting the bar and walking home.

When he reached the front of his door, he was met by paper taped to it that read ‘LATE RENT SECOND NOTICE’. Harry sighed, ripping the paper off the door before unlocking it and heading inside. He briskly threw the notice on the table and he sat down on his couch, rolling out his neck and closed his eyes for a moment. His shoulder and neck felt tight—his overall body felt tense, like he couldn’t relax for a tad bit.

He was stressed. The dream of becoming an actor was made when he was a teenager. From auditioning for one of his school plays in comprehensive school and getting the lead role, he felt the rush of being on stage when he was only sixteen. From then on, he wanted to take that dream to the next step, and he was talking about being on camera, on billboard, stepping on stage when he wins and collecting his Oscar. Harry reaches for big dreams, and he was determined to make his dreams come true.

In his state of pondering about lifelong dreams of making it in the industry, the electricity had gone out. It was like he was so in his head about becoming a famous actor that he felt like he was in the clouds and nothing was limiting him, but the harsh reality of his source of light going out had brought him back to the ground.

A groan from Harry’s mouth was heard between the walls of his tiny apartment, frustrated that he can’t seem to find money just to save him from getting evicted from his home. He took a deep breath as his body was stretched across the couch, hands on his face as he debated what to do.

He thought about getting more auditions, which he will eventually try for because again, that was his lifelong dream, but how many auditions did he have to do for anyone to see him other than a pretty face. Let’s face it, Harry knew he was attractive and having a nice face helped him get auditions, although he’s only had two in his lifetime. But he wanted to be seen more than that. He wanted to be seen for his talent, his ability to act, and being the person the camera loves.

Harry then thought about the offer Daren from the bar made him. It was quite random how someone badly wanted him to work for some candy shop when there are so many people who are looking for a side job. Of course he didn’t want to work there, but he did remember Daren saying that he was willing to pay a lot. But who in the world has that kind of money to pay $30 for working at a simple candy store?

Hell if Harry knew, but he knew that he needed to make some sacrifices.

You were sat in the beige booth across from your two friends, waiting on your food as Alice was reapplying her lip gloss and Frances was talking to you nonstop about a boy she had met from class.

It was your usual Friday afternoon as the three of you met up at Mel’s Drive In to have weekly breakfast for lunches. It was a ritual ever since you were in high school.

Having met them your freshman year of high school when you three were in the same dance class, you girls were inseparable. You’ve been through breakups, crushes, and gossip with them; and they were like your sisters. Sisters who talk about anything and everything with no limits or shame.

And now you three were dance teachers at the academy school you all danced at. It honestly worked very well; when a dancer hits eighteen, they graduate and that’s their farewell from growing up and continuously dancing at the studio. A year before you three graduated from college, your ballet instructor, Sally, had told you three that her and the rest of the staff always loved your techniques and stability. And you were all very excited for the journey.

“I swear to god, I was gonna jump him right then and there,” Frances said waving her hand as if she was fanning herself.

“Wait, he did what now?” Alice asked, pausing from putting on her lip gloss. She did it all the time, but you had no idea as to why she was doing that when you were about to eat. But Alice is Alice.

“If you can take one second not eating your lip gloss, then you would have heard me,” Frances turned to her right to face Alice, a frustrated look on her face. It was the same old annoyed look Frances gave Alice and to others, it looked like she was about to start a fight, but to the three of you, it was just pure bickering and humorously messing with each other.

“Anyways, tell us more,” you said, reaching over to Frances, and she excitedly turned back towards you, happy someone was paying attention.

“He just kept flirting with me! Kept saying I looked so pretty and said he wanted to take me out, which I think he’s gonna ask me out the next time I see him because he kept hinting at it, and I’m just so excited! Although I wasn’t sure if I wanted to date another dancer, let alone a coworker, but I don’t care anymore!” She squealed in excitement, and told her how happy you were for her.

“What about you?” Alice asked suddenly.

“What about me?” You asked back, leaning back on the leather cushion. Before Alice was about to answer, their food had arrived and was placed in front of you,

“Any guys or girls you’ve been into lately?” You thought about it, and shook your head truthfully as you dug into your pancakes. “C’mon! There isn’t anyone at all?” You shook your head again, taking a bite. “Not even that Tyler guy?” You rolled your eyes, waiting to swallow your bite before you answered.

“No, no, and no. I don’t know. It’s hard for me to get out there y’know?” You slightly frowned, realizing that you had been missing the affection and attention you wanted.

“Oh, whatever! You’re just saying because you’re too shy and proper to say that you haven’t been fucked in forever,” Frances said too loudly for your liking. You looked around your table to see if anyone had any lingering eyes on the three of you, but everyone seemed to be only paying attention to their business. “Face it, the last time you’ve been touched was Chris—and hell if he did the job.”

“And we know you can get out there. You’re pretty, smart, funny, and you’re a rich bitch! So many guys go after you in the passing!” Alice added.

“Yeah, only cause they want to get to my dad, remember?” You raised your eyebrows at them, and they went silent for a bit, remembering that ordeal.

“Well, those fuckers don’t know what they’re missing,” Frances said back.

“Since when have you used such language?” You faked a dramatic gasp, teasing her as she laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Please, ever since you told us about your kinkful night of sex that one time our freshman year of college, knew you weren’t an angel yourself,” Frances smirked, and a gasp was heard from Alice.

“Oh god, I remember that! It was with that junior Lance Mills! I want to hear that story over again. It was like listening to a sex film.” Alice put her hands under her chin as they both eagerly waited for you to tell the story again.

“Maybe next time. Y’know when we’re alone and I’m not about to devour this pancake,” you promised and they nodded excitedly.

The three of you ate your food as Johnny Cash was playing from the jukebox. You and Frances were minding your own businesses, thinking the subject prior was far gone and over with until Alice spoke up again.

“Y’know…I know something that’ll help you with the whole…” she started waving her hand around you like she was casting a spell, and you were utterly confused.

Your brows furrowed, “With what?”

“Your whole dry spell of not being able to get some,” her brows raised, and your mouth slightly opened.

“I am not on a dry spell!” You exclaimed, crossing your arms once you were finished with your pancakes, but felt satisfied, knowing Mel’s pancakes were the best you’ve ever had.

“Please. It’s been what? A year since you’ve had sex? Unacceptable.” You rolled your eyes at Frances’ statement. “You have everything you want except a good orgasm. Can you believe that?” She turned her head towards Alice in disbelief; the two of them shaking their heads.

“Ugh! I don’t need to have sex to complete my life! I am perfectly fine with pleasing myself and not having someone do it for me, and I am perfectly fine with not having sex… at the moment,” you added the last part in case the universe had some weird way of working, making your dry spell even longer. Frances and Alice laughed, knowing you all too well that you loved having sex and someone to hook up with.

It was like you were contradicting yourself in your head--thinking you were okay with yourself, but wanting someone else. But you honestly were fine with doing the job yourself--you didn’t mind that at the very least, but it is always nice to have someone to do it for you. What you were thinking was: yes, you could do it and reach an orgasm yourself, but you didn’t need someone to do it for you. If someone comes your way and helps you out, great. If someone doesn’t, also great, you’d do it yourself.

“Anyways, as I was saying,” Alice spoke up. “One of the girls was talking about some shop that always has hot guys working there and they’re always hiring hot guys.”

Frances turned her body towards her, “Ooh, tell me more.”

“You are about to get asked out by some other guy. Don’t be greedy, this is for her!” You chuckled at them as they fought like a married couple. “Well, she was saying how she met this one guy there and they fucked in her car! She would not stop talking about orgasm after orgasm! And she also said all the other workers there are hot too, so you can go down there and check it out for yourself,” Alice explained. “You can just do it once too--get all that stress out of your system.”

You thought about how long your dry spell has been going for. It hasn’t been too long that you were deprived from having good sex, and you would love to look at handsome men even if that means you wouldn’t get any since you were tired of looking at the boys in your class as you thought none of them were really all that attractive to you. So, you nodded in agreement and Alice perked up.

“Where is this shop at?” You asked curiously.

“It’s a candy shop on sunset. But you need a code to get in.”

You confusingly asked, “A code? Why would you need a code?”

“Don’t know. Probably for some identity reason. But they also serve celebrities as well, so that could possibly be a reason,” Alice said.

“Okay…What’s the code?” You asked slowly.

Frances squealed, “You’re really gonna do this?” You shrugged your shoulders but nodded your head.

“So, the code?” You asked Alice again to see her and Frances smirking at one another. Probably because you agreed to doing this and admitting that you wanted to get laid.

“Cloud nine.”

Harry found himself in front of ‘Sweetland’ at 12 in the afternoon on Sunday.

After much debate, he realized he really needed the money when he was in the midst of a shower and the water had turned off. Just as he got soap in his eyes, he figured he would put his pride aside and take up on Daren’s offer. Because what could be so bad working at a candy store? People have to start somewhere in their life in order to make it.

He had a night’s long of pondering, telling himself that an audition is not just going to pop up out of nowhere, but he couldn’t lose hope just yet. And besides, he probably wouldn’t even get paid that much if he wasn’t under a contract with a big agency. So the candy shop would have to do it for now.

Walking through the door, he was met with a few pairs of eyes from men who perked up thinking he was a customer, but quickly put their heads down.

“Ah, so I see you decided to work for me,” Daren said as he noticed Harry at the entrance of the shop, a smirk placed on his face.

“Yeah. Just really need the money,” Harry replied honestly.

“Well, welcome to your first day, boy! Here is your uniform, restrooms are over there,” Daren handed Harry clothes and slightly pushed towards the restroom to get changed.

Once he finished changing and got out of the restroom, he noticed he was matching with the other workers; wearing a blue sparkly blouse with a pussybow and white trousers. He had to admit that he loved the outfit, but wished everyone had different outfits so he could stand out.

“Everyone! This is Harry. He will be joining our team and will be along with this journey of ours.” He noticed Daren smirk as he introduced him to everyone with a hand on his shoulder. There were about five other guys working at the shop that day, and everyone waved, greeting him.

Everyone working were guys and Harry noticed how good looking everyone was, and there were no women working at all, which confused him at the very least.

“Alright, so your job is to basically serve customers. Easy as that. You’ll just grab a bag,” Daren does so as he speaks, “and whatever you want, just fill it up to however they desire. Simple.” Harry didn’t miss his sexual innuendo, even if it was innocent as candy, but he chuckled, amusing Daren. “Got it?”

“Yeah. Seems pretty easy-”

“That’s the spirit! But first, I’m going to need you to stock some of the candy containers in the back,” Daren grabbed a couple of empty jars that were out on display, and Harry nodded as he followed Daren to the back where all the candy was stocked in large containers. “These have the labels on them, so just fill them with the right ones.”

“Alright,” Harry responded, and Daren pats his back before walking towards the exit. “Hey, Daren.” He stopped him before he was able to walk out. He turned around and Harry gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks. Y’know, for the job. I really mean it.”

Daren smiled back, “Don’t thank me yet, kid.” And with that, he walked out as Harry filled the empty containers with more candy.

After 30 minutes of filling jars and sweeping the floor, Daren called him to the front of the store. It was more busy than usual but enough for all the workers to be occupied.

“Ready for your first customer?” Harry perked up, and nodded his head eagerly as he was finally going to help a customer out and serve them. “There she is. Remember to smile, and if they say cloud nine, do as they say.”

“Wait, what’s cloud-”

“Go get ‘em.” With a slight push, Harry was lurched forward, walking towards the woman waiting by the door.

“Hello, how can I help you?” Harry asked with a shy smile on his face.

“Just a bag of candy, please,” the lady said as she looked around the store.

“Sure thing,” Harry grabbed a candy bag and followed her around the store as he waited for her to tell her what kind of candy she wanted.

“Can you put these in there?” She said, pointing to the container of gumballs and Harry grabbed the metal spoon, filling it before dropping it in the bag. “That’s all I want,” she said, and Harry ties the bag up.

“Okay. Anything else?” He asked.

“Yeah. Cloud nine?” Harry was utterly confused when she said the phrase; he didn’t know what to do at this point because Daren didn’t take the time to explain it to him.

The woman slapped a few quarters onto the counter before grabbing the bag of gumballs from Harry’s hands and walking out of the store. He turned around and looked at Daren raising two thumbs up at him and Harry was quick to follow her out.

“I’m sorry. I’m not sure what you want me to do,” he said, still confused on what he was supposed to do. She stopped walking, stopping right in front of her white car, and turned around.

“I want you to fuck me,” she said straightforwardly, and Harry’s eyes widened. The woman was about in her forties with a diamond ring on her finger, flashing in his face from how bright the diamond is and how it clashes with the sun.

“P-Pardon?” He stuttered as his face turned red. The lady’s brows raised and Harry could tell that she was getting frustrated mentally and sexually.

“Isn’t that what you guys do? Fuck your customers when they want to?” She crossed her arms impatiently, and Harry’s mouth opened slightly but nothing came out from it, truly speechless at her words.

“I-I’m sorry…I don’t-”

“Ugh, never mind. Forget it,” the lady scoffed and walked to the driver side of her car and got in quickly before driving away, leaving Harry with an unsatisfied customer, a frustrated him, and possibly an angry boss.

With slow steps, Harry walked towards the entrance as he gave himself a 30 second pep talk before he had to go through the door, hoping he wouldn’t get fired on his first day.

He opened the door, the bell from above ringing from the movement of the door. The first thing that his eyes landed on was Daren’s confused face, and Harry frowned, nerves boiling through his veins.

“The fuck you still doing here?” Daren asked with his hands up. Harry scratched the back of his neck, feeling his blouse getting too tight for his own good.

“I, uh-”

“I sure hope to god you’re about to say you made her orgasm in two minutes. And you better not that you lasted two minutes,” his hands are now on his hips, waiting for his answer. “Well? Gonna give me a straight answer or are you gonna just stand there?” Harry’s brows furrowed in anger; from frustration and desperation of making money.

“You never told me what to fuckin’ do. Just expected me to hear a phrase and fuck someone? A little heads up would’ve been nice!” He snapped, his voice louder than he would like, but figured it’s necessary.

“Thought you already figured it out when I was talking about your cock back at the bar!” Daren retorted back, grabbing Harry’s arm and bringing him to the back, away from the other workers.

Harry yanked his arm back when they were both away from the rest, “The least you could’ve done was tell me straight up.”

“I didn’t think you’d care! You’re a good looking guy that probably wants to get laid. When was the last time you fucked someone anyways?” Harry looked at him and rolled his eyes, not answering his question. “I’m assuming it’s been a while…” he paused, eyes widened as if he made a realization. “Unless you’re a virgin because I’m not sure this is the right job for you—well, it might be depending how you look at it-”

“Yes, it’s been a while and no, I’m not a virgin. Not like there’s anything wrong with that,” Harry interrupted just to simply shut him up.

“Look kid, I’m sorry I wasn’t more clear on what this job offered, that was my fault,” Daren placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, how about the rest of the day, you just work with the candy. You don’t have to deal with customers today, and you can decide if you still want to work here. If you do, then you start tomorrow— actually start tomorrow this time. How does that sound?” Harry took a deep breath and nodded slowly, figuring he has about 3 hours to decide what he wants to do. “Great. There’s a few containers that need restocking and some unboxing in the back.”

Harry got to work immediately, but he took his time to make time somehow go by faster as he was surrounded by sour candies, chocolate, and bubblegum. And he was also thinking on how this whole thing will end up. It was only his first day so he wouldn’t get paid, but if Daren was true to his word when he said he would start out at $40, he may as well end up staying here. Because where else is he going to get that type of money in one day? No where. He’d have to work at least two weeks to get a whole $30 when he can make so much more if he were to stay at Sweetland.

Time did go by faster as his brain was scrambled with thought and his mouth felt like he’s eaten every piece of candy. He threw out all the boxes and stored the candy in its right container before washing his hands to see the rest of the workers cleaning up. He wanted to help out, even though he’s done enough, and grabbed a rag before wiping down the counter and the spaces between the candy containers.

“Hey,” Harry said to the guy, whose name tag read Pete, as he was sweeping the floor of sugar and dropped candy.

Pete looked up and smiled, “How did you like your first day?”

“It was unexpected.” Harry chuckled.

“It is, isn’t it?” Pete smiled, and Harry nodded.

“That’s how he dropped the bomb on all of us. Didn’t say much of what we do besides what we do with the actual candy, but just threw us into the pack of wolves and fed us alive.”

“That’s…descriptive.” Pete laughed. “I mean, is it worth it?”

“If you’re desperate for money, then yeah. The reason why we all stayed was mainly because of that, but we’ve grown to like it a lot, and that’s not because we get to have sex everyday. But because Daren is actually really fun and cool, and we’ve all made friends with each other. It’s an experience, for sure.” Harry nodded, taking everything in. He knew his answer before talking to Pete, but he just needed some reassurance, guidance.

Daren came to view when Harry looked up, walking towards him, obviously for one reason. “So, boy, what do you say?”

Harry thought for the last time. Quickly going over his decisions, and having a full on debate in his head as he imagined pros and cons lists. The pros out weighted the cons, and there was really no question about it. The pros were: lots of money, sex, nice coworkers, and good candy. The cons list was: nothing.

He didn’t think he’d end up like this. Working for a fake candy store, but in the sense it’s not fake because it sells real candy, and getting sex this way.

But again, he needed to make sacrifices in order to keep his place and practically live.

“I’ll stay.”

Your muscles were strained from the amount of hours you were on your feet--more like years since you’ve been dancing ever since you were little. From teaching your students a plie to releve to saute; always making sure yours and their toes are always pointed. Your muscles were aching and you were tired, physically and mentally.

It wasn’t like you didn’t love to dance--you’ve been doing it for years, hell, you were teaching it. But it was the long hours during the day where some days, you had to teach and rehearse for at least 12 hours a day. So, needless to say, you were exhausted.

But that wasn’t even the worst of them all. At the end of the day, you had to go home and deal with your family. They were supportive, but not in the sense where you want them to be. They were supportive in what they want for you, not what you want for yourself. It was something you had to live with--you don’t remember a time you got what you wanted, except when you suggested you wanted to do dance when you were younger.

It didn’t take long for them to agree for them to sign you up for dance classes, but only signing you up for classical ballet.

“Sweetheart, it’s just more elegant. You’ll learn how to be more flexible and fix that god awful posture of yours,” your mother had said when you suggested you wanted to do something like tap dance. You had nodded your seven-year-old head as you sulked back to your room, figuring ballet was better than nothing when you asked to take some dance classes.

Your mother, Jane, wasn’t always so harsh with you. In fact, her attitude towards you had gotten better as you got older, but that was probably because she found your dad, Richard, cheating on her with another woman. And she thought you didn’t know a thing, hence why her attitude changed towards you, but you knew everything.

But you were all Jane had, and it was when you were sixteen, she suggested a girls day with you; talking to you with a soft tone and not making any remarks towards how you look. But you were happy for the change; it bettered and strengthened your relationship with your mother and she sides with you with almost everything once your father comes at you for something so little.

Walking through the large doors of your home, you threw your bags on the floor, the heaviness was making your back and shoulders hurt even more, immediately walking towards the kitchen as you stretched out your limbs and joints.

It was almost 10 p.m and you realized you had so many things to do still. Between coming up with a routine and some new ways to warm up, you were filled with overwhelmingness, and you just wanted to have a decent meal in silence.

But sadly, you didn’t get that--either of that. Instead of silence, laughs were heard from the dining room, and once you walked into the room to see what all the noise was about, the thought of a decent meal was lost from your appetite at the sight in front of you.

It was your father laughing with your ex boyfriend, Chris. The sight was unbearable and you wanted to run out of the room, but first, you wanted to know what the actual fuck is Chris doing here.

“Ah, darling, so glad you could join us. Was just having a laugh here with your dear boyfriend, Chris,” Richard had said once he saw you, calming down from his laughter. Chris was looking at you with a smile, and you never wanted to slap a smile off someone’s face before him.

“Ex boyfriend,” you said clearly, making sure they both heard you right.

“Oh, tomato, tomahto. Same shit. Won’t be long until you get back together with him,” Richard chuckled, thinking he was right. But he was far from right; you have no plans whatsoever getting back together with him nor do you have plans ever associating yourself with him, so the fact that he’s in your house right now is just boiling your blood.

“Father, Chris and I are never getting back together. I mean it,” you tell your father, but looking at Chris as you say so, hoping to get your words engrained to his skull. But all Chris did was smirk at like you were wrong, but you rolled your eyes, not amusing him.

“Sure, whatever you say. How about you sit and join us.” Richard points his hands towards the empty chair next to Chris.

“I’d rather not,” you sighed.

“Not asking you, darling,” Richard gives you a disapproving look as if he’s trying not to lash out in front of his ‘perfect’ guest like he’s a ‘perfect’ host.

“Well, I’m telling you I don’t want to. Besides, I have schoolwork to do.” You told him sternly, completely over this conversation. As you were about to walk away, his voice raised slightly.

“Darling. Sit. Now,” he demanded. He was angry, that’s for sure, and the vein on his forehead looked like it was about to pop from you not cooperating.

Giving him the point, you sighed as you took a seat next to Chris, but left a chair between you two, not wanting to be anywhere close to him. You wouldn’t be in this position if you hadn’t walked in on your father and Chris being buddies, and you wished that you had just ignored the laughter because your night would’ve been much nicer than sitting at a table with the two of them together.

But you were rather proud of yourself for sticking up for yourself. Some parents may call it talking back, but that was nowhere near talking back. You grew a thick skin around him throughout the years. From the countless times of crying in your bedroom because Richard would call you names or tell you that you weren’t good enough, you had to grow that kind of toughness around him. Sometimes you had to fight back for yourself; you weren’t going to let him or anyone walk all over you. Seeing your father do that to your mother just broke your heart, but you told yourself that no one will ever treat you like that.

“So, Chris and I were talking about your futures together-”

You raised a hand up only for it to be smacked onto the table causing the table to make a loud sound. “What did I just say? I am never going to have a future with him.”

“Not after what he planned for us,” Chris pitched in.

“Well, you can shove that plan up your ass if you think I’m gonna let you plan my future!” You said, turning towards your father. You were on the edge of your seat, close to getting up and raising your voice even louder or completely walking out of the room as anger flushed through you.

“Do not speak to me that way! Who gave you the right to even use those words?” Richard’s eyes furrowed as he pointed a finger at you, obviously angry, and not giving a fuck if he had a guest hear his anger.

“Gave me the right? You did when you decided to be an absolute dick to mom and I!” You were fully standing up, hands planted on the table.

“Language! You don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“But I do, don’t I? Right, father? I know everything,” you gave him a challenging look, which he was not amused with.

“I’m gonna give you five seconds-”

“Don’t bother,” you scooted your chair back, and walked out of the dining room and up the stairs. You just wanted a peaceful and relaxing night, but you got the exact opposite.

You were headed up the stairs, quickly, furious and frustrated at your father. Stomps on the hard floor were heard that you didn’t even hear the footsteps following behind you.

“Hey,” the voice you recognized was Chris’, and you felt your arm slightly being yanked by him, causing you to stop walking. You turned around, immediately taking your arm out of his hold.

“Don’t touch me or ever grab me like that,” you said, and he thinks it’s the most serious tone he’s ever heard out of you.

“Chill, I was gonna see if you were okay after that-”

“Well, don’t! I never asked for you to check up on me, and stop grabbing me like that--I’ve told you a million times. It’s annoying, not cute,” you rolled your eyes. You were right in front of your bedroom door and you just wanted to go inside and be over with the day, but of course, Chris keeps talking.

“Would you stop being a bitch for once? I don’t understand why we can’t be civil with each other, I’m working with your father,” he said, voice slightly raised, but you don’t let it get to you.

“The only reason why I can’t be civil with you is because I can’t stand being around you. And guess who messed that up? You did,” you pointed at him. “You’re just like him. Can’t have one person satisfy you. Always wanna sleep around and think you’re forgiven,” you shook your head in disbelief, trying not to let the tears cloud your eyes.

It wasn’t like you were still hung up on the situation, but the thought of being that heartbroken again did not make you feel the best. The feeling of your heart sinking into your stomach was something you did not want to feel again. And you didn’t think you were wrong for wanting to protect your fragile heart. You were strong on the outside; not taking shit from anyone, and you think that’s a strong quality to have. But deep down, you still had your guard up. Physically, you were fine connecting with people, but emotionally, it was necessary to protect yourself.

“C’mon, baby, it was one time,” you cringed at the name.

“First, don’t call me baby. I mean it. Second, one time was enough. I’ve witnessed it--still witnessing it with my mother staying with my father when he cheats time and time again. That ‘one time’ shouldn’t have even happened. Now, leave me alone and get out of my house.” You walked into your room, but before you were about to shut the door, he placed a hand on it, stopping you from closing it.

“Y’know, maybe we can just have a little fun. Hate fuck all the anger out of each other. Maybe it’ll help get that stick out of your ass,” he smirked and you rolled your eyes in disgust and annoyance.

“Don’t worry, I have better places to go other than you.”

With that you slammed the door in his face, knowing exactly where you could go to destress.

just a glimpse of what their lives look like! CHAPTER TWO IS COMING ON AUGUST 21!

taglist babies: @froggystyles @outofsstyles @whoschantel @4592222 @groovybaybee @bfharry @wellbafineline @tfonty @bfilipa52 @afire-hes @thorsangel @brrilliant-harry @apples2019

#cloud nine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles writing #harry styles series #harry styles ff #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #boyfriend!harry #actor!harry #harry #harry styles #hs #harry styles drabble #harry styles concept

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thevoilinauttheory · 3 years ago

Text

survivin’

[ FFxivWrite 2021 Prompt 8: Adroit ]

The Five Part “In the Dreams of Ashley” series is done! Go read the others here! {Prelude} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Wind} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Fire} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Water} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Earth}

[ HEAVY HEAVY CONTENT WARNINGS: implied child abuse/assault, detailed suffocation, detailed burial while alive, heavy grief and regret surrounding death ]

[ video has lots of moving colors ]

youtube

Dreaming about being buried alive is very frightening and is a warning that all of the things in your life that are causing you anxiety and despair should be thrown away. You have let things build up to a point that you are no longer able to control anything and now you risk being completely destroyed.

Ashley was forced into a uniform with little knowledge as to why, having just woken up with a raging headache and handcuffs on. Confused was an understatement. “Y’good?” There was a soft voice that addressed him, a soft voice that belonged to a large man. His hand set on his shoulder, some level of comfort and grounding while he gathered his bearings. “Wh-What’s goin’ on?” “Y’don’t know?” “Pretty sure the knot on th’back o’ my head answers that.” The man let out a laugh, then nodded. “Guess so. Yer bein’ conscripted.” “Conscripted? How in the hells!” Ashley pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh… he should have been more upset about this, but honestly, it felt like the worst kind of inconvenience. Still, he didn’t fight it, worked with the flow of everything as he usually did. “Guess I’m stuck here.” “We all’re, friend.” “What’s your name, friend?” He snorted. “Hunter. Ya’?” “Ashley.” “Nice t’meet ya’ Ashley, too bad it ain’t on better terms.” He nodded in response.

“Yer gonna get caught.” Ashley chuckled. “I never get caught. That’s the thing ‘bout growin’ up in Ul’dah.” “Mm.” “Hand me your rations.” “Are y’kiddin’? I ain’t givin’ y’anythin’!” “Sure? Thought y’wanted to get out o’ here, same as me. N’if y’do, you’re gonna have t’give ‘em to me.” “Why?” “Uh… food to last us until we get home?” “N’how ‘bout the energy they’re makin’ us use t’fight?” Ashley snatched Hunter’s rations from him, stuffing them into a tight and inconspicuous corner with the rest of all of the little items he managed to get away with - some string, blades, pins, badges; even things like hair-ties and pens. Anything he could get away with shoving in his pocket, he did so. He bumped his elbow back into Hunter and lowered his voice. “Get somewhere else, someone’s ‘bout to come in.” “Eh? How’d’y’know?” “I’ll tell you later, jus’ get or we’re gonna get caught.” Hunter backed off, going back to his own belongings to check them off; leaving Ashley to slide a sizeable block of concrete in front of the hole in the wall, covering it completely. “Tucker!” “Yes, sir!” “What are you doing on the floor, get your arse up now.” “Sorry, sir! I dropped my badge.” He stood up, adjusting the collar of his uniform with a small pin on it.

“How are we going to get past them? Did you even think that far through?” The Auri woman that had joined along prodded at him while he was thinking. “Will you shut it?”

Four of them clamored and cramped in the vents, waiting for a good time to drop out of them. They were dressed in different uniforms, to match those of the area they were about to infiltrate. When an opening arose, he dropped out of the vent, brushed off his clothes, then pretended to idly look at the schedule board that was on the wall. Well, he was looking at it, but also waiting for another good time to signal another body. He tapped his chin, stretched his arms above his head as the last person in the hall walked past him - he held up a signed “C”, and waved his hand. That let the other two know to let Colette drop down first, she did just the same - brushing out her uniform before striking up an uninteresting conversation about the schedule.

They waited for the hallway to clear again. She held her thumb and forefinger together and waved, signaling Ruta to come down next. As the next crowd came through, she pretended to be scolding them. It cleared, Ashley waved, and down came Hunter. Hunter always came last - he wasn’t the best actor or liar, so they made sure that he could be ready to move immediately. They walked down the hall, past many unsuspecting soldiers and medics, until they were able to escape the facility they were locked up in. “Oh, thank gods.” Hunter let out a sigh of relief at the fresh air, no matter how cold it was. “Sh. We ain’t there yet. There’s still the entire damned city. Make sure your bags are on tight, n’if not, fasten them. I mean it. Y’gotta be ready to book it once we get through.” “What are we going to do after?” The question was, thankfully, vague enough to not alarm anyone they were passing by; but Colette anxiously gripped the shoulder belt to her bag. “Hoof it.” “On land? All the way back?” Ruta folded her arms over her chest. “I’ve worked it out already, trust me.”

“How in the hells did you manage that!” Ruta laughed as she ran across the snow, outside the metal confines of Garlemald. “It’s cold, but kami, it’s free!” “I came prepared.” “Is that why your bag is larger than ours.” “Yeah. Managed to snatch a few uniforms and some blankets. We’ve got a long way to walk - most of it’s dead here. No life whatsoever, just snow. Ruta, yer on the way back first.” “Wait�� is that why we’re walking?” “Aye. Othard connects here - stowing away on a ship or airship would skip over you entirely. So prepare t’get intimate with one another, ‘cause we’re gonna need a lot of body heat.” Ruta stopped and blinked at him. “...Thank you.” “You can thank me when y’get home. After Ruta, we’re going to stowaway on a merchant vessel - it’ll look more Garlean than Hingan, but it’s goin’ to get hijacked by pirates from Limsa. Which is how we get Hunter home. After that, Colette n’I’re gonna hitch a ship back t’Vesper Bay, and I’ll walk her back home.” They all seemed… shocked. Appalled, even. That this stranger would go out of his way to know so much about the way back, and that he’d help them even. “Where’re y’goin’ after that?” Hunter pat Ruta’s shoulder to get her moving again. “Mm. Back home, maybe. I dunno. Maybe I can get a job like this.” He laughed.

“Mister?” “Mm?” Ashley looked up from his book, pipe hanging loosely from his mouth as his eyes caught a young girl standing next to him. Her face was red from crying, and looking over her clothes brought back memories and images he wished he didn’t have.

“...Need help?” His voice lowered, to not draw attention. She nodded, and he stood up from his seat to pull off his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders - it was obviously too large, but that was the point. He pulled a hair-tie from his pocket to tie back her hair, so that its general style was different at a glance. He lifted her up to sit in the chair, having her hold the book up as if she were reading it. He placed his arm on the back of the chair, talking random nonsense about words in the book to the girl as his eyes caught a glimpse of several people walking in, looking around for something or someone. When he noticed the girl’s grip on the book tightened, he figured those were the people she was hiding from. He placed his hand on one of hers, holding the book up as well - and he kept his voice just as low.

“Relax… don’t show any tension. If they see white knuckles, they’ll get suspicious.” She did just that, nodding slowly. “Okay… uhm.” She was afraid her voice would be recognizable if she spoke, so she kept it low. “What’s this word mean?” “Eh?” He looked back at the book, noting she was just pointing at the word “the”, to which he smiled - she was trying to play along with him. “That word? Oh! That’s a name, sweetheart. I know, all them Elezen got such fancy names, y’could swear y’saw ‘em in a dictionary.” They kept on like that until he saw all of those same people leave. “There y’go. All gone. Need someplace safe t’stay?” “Mm..” She didn’t trust like that, and he noticed. He laughed, waving one of his hands. “Not with me. I have a friend who takes care of children goin’ through what you are. I can make sure y’get there with no problem. Unless you’ve got a place? I can take you wherever you need most.” She smiled a little bit, nodding. “Someplace safe… sounds nice.” “Good! Now up y’get. I’ll look inta these people that hurt you, okay?”

He stared down at those graves, the ones he made; carved up of nothing but rocks and dirt, with desert blooms laid in place. All the thoughts welled up there - what he could have done, what could have gone better. Memories of all the times they had, wondering why he never said more. A lot of things were left unsaid - Ruta never got to propose to Colette, they never got to choose the colors of their wedding, or what flowers, what food and drinks; they never got to dance, and the last sight of each other wasn’t even a damned smile!

He cursed himself silently.

Hunter never got to go on about his newest niece, never got to tell the unheard stories of his family, never got to see the world as much as he dreamed, never got into a bar fight with a pirate; that the last he’d see of him was a damned smile! He never got to tell him-- He never got to tell them…

Ashley stared at the graves and knew…. this wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

He sat down in the dirt in front of them, offering some vague notion of a smile. “Y’won’t believe me. I know it. But… helped someone out today. Didn’t turn ‘em down. Didn’t make any snarky comments or nothin’. ‘Member that time out in the eastside of La Nocsea? It was like that, unfortunately. But, despite their faults n’corrupt nature, got the Blades t’clear ‘em all out after trackin’ ‘em to wherever they were hidin’.”

He let out a soft sigh. “...I miss y’all. So much. Y’meant so much to me. I was jus’ s’posed to take y’all home… n’y’stayed with me. You were my family… everythin’ I had. N’I… n’I jus’...” He shook his head. “I wish I could’ve done more. I… I… I love y’all, with all I could. Each n’every one o’ya’. I… never got t’tell you that. I hope… wherever y’are now… you know that. I’ll keep livin’ on, keep y’strong. Yer memories aren’t wasted, aren’t gone. Not yet. I’ll be damned if your story don’t get heard, though.”

He closed his eyes for just a moment

He snapped awake, not upright; he laid flat and stared at the pitch darkness in front of him. The bed below him was hard - it felt more like a floor. Wasn’t he in the dirt before? He could’ve sworn he was outside but a few seconds ago. It must’ve been a bad trip, lost all sense of time and ended up wherever he was now. All he had to do was find his stuff. He tried to sit up, only to slam his head on a short ceiling. “Augh… ow…” He tried to rub the spot he hit, only for his arm to scrape a wall right beside him. What was going on? He placed his hands flat on the shallow ceiling, feeling around - it was wood - he tried to find some means of escaping. There must’ve been a latch *somewhere*. One hand lowered to his pocket… most, if not all, of his gear and possessions were stripped of him; though he pat around to find an assortment of objects in the corners of his prison. When his hand landed on a lighter, it immediately lit up.

A coffin. Was he dead? Had they found him and buried him with his family? Did he… even want to be dead? The response of him slamming his hands on the lid and screaming for someone answered that question. There must’ve been a mistake, he wasn’t dead - he wasn’t! There was no way, none of this could be real. Dirt fell in between the cracks of the splintering shell he was incased in, no one was going to come. No one could hear him. He could feel the tears at his cheeks, the deepest recesses of his mind coming forward.

He didn’t want to die. He wasn’t ready to join them. “Gods, please… please…” He hoped some entity would come forth to dig him up and let him breathe. It was getting hot, he could barely catch his breath; like something stuck in his throat. He tried to cry for help again, met with the same silence. He could feel the blood rushing to his head, settling on his mouth and face and numbing his skin while he choked on nothing. He slammed his hands against the wood. Maybe there was just a small bit of air, if he could just get out. He dug his nails into the splinters and chips, tearing back his fingernails for just a *chance* at being able to dig his way to freedom. He was getting tired, though, exhausted. His chest hurt, and he could no longer hold up his arms. He stared at the darkness above him. Regardless of whether he wanted it or not, he could feel his vision fading - he tried to keep his eyes closed while gasping for the air that didn’t exist.

Ashley snapped awake, upright, this time; eyes forced closed by the brightness of the sun reflecting off the walls of the city - still in front of the graves of his family. He panted heavily, head reeling from the nightmare.

A nightmare.

Just a nightmare.

He was never so thankful for knowing it was just a dream.

#ffxivwrite2021 #prompt 8 #adroit #about: Ashley Tucker #virtues and vices #:')#didn't think i'd get around to completing all of it #this short little series is to also explore my deepest fears #which you think would maybe ease it a little?#but nope #i fear em worse after doing much needed research #/cry

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flowers-creativity · 4 years ago

Text

Febuwhump Day 6: Insomnia

Fandom: The Musketeers

Characters: Aramis, Porthos

Warnings: None

Summary: Aramis can’t sleep

Notes: First Febuwhump ficlet! I’m not doing all of them but will post if and when the muse strikes.

This one is for @aini-nufire who suggested Aramis and insomnia.

AO3 link

Later, he could no longer say when it had started. Probably around the time after the King had announced that the Queen was with child. Beaming and proud and with no doubt at all that his childless marriage had finally been blessed. The only one in the room who knew what had actually happened was Athos, and one look had made it clear that sympathy was not high on his list of reactions to the news.

So he hadn't gone to him to look for it. And he could not go to Porthos, which hurt in its own special way, nor to d'Artagnan, which hurt in a different way again.

As was his wont to do, he went to others for, if not sympathy, at least companionship. But between the memory of one stolen night with a lonely woman who told him he was worth her touch, her affection, the shadow it was casting on his friendships, his family of those three soldiers, his brothers, and the thought of what was to come – and he was terrified, and terrifyingly excited … Companionship did not help.

So he stopped going to Madame du Peigne, to sweet Marie, to playful Yvette. Instead, he went home, to his apartment near the Garrison, and fell into bed in the vain hope that maybe at home, his mind would rest.

And then he got up and lit a candle, sitting until the small hours of the morning poring over his Bible until his eyes ached and his mind was awhirl with quotes and parables that might have helped at another time but this time, did nothing to soothe the sting of his mistakes and how little he actually regretted them.

When the sun rose, he got up, tied his weapons belt around his waist and marched into the Garrison as if he wasn't dragging the weight of too many sleepless nights with him.

He could keep this up. And at some point, he would be so tired that he would be able to sleep, his mind be damned. He was sure of it.

_________________

“Aramis!”

Aramis yanked his head up, opening his eyes – he did not remember closing them … “Huh?”

Porthos loomed in front of him, bent over the table and a hand on Aramis' shoulder. “You alright? Almost landed face-first in the soup there.” Dark eyes bored into his, worriedly searching for something.

Aramis leaned back and tried not to feel too disappointed when Porthos' hand slipped from his shoulder. “Oh … Ah,” he hedged, then yawned, which was only half play-acting. “I guess I must've fallen asleep for a moment. I'm just a bit tired.”

“Hum,” Porthos said as he settled on the bench opposite without his eyes leaving Aramis' face, “you've been looking a bit tired a lot, lately. Not sleeping well?”

How about not at all, Aramis thought bitterly. But aloud, he said: “Oh, you know. Madame de Chalon's husband is away, and who am I to waste such a perfect opportunity?” He grinned his usual charmer's grin and hoped that he was good enough an actor that Porthos would not notice it didn't reach his eyes.

Porthos rolled his eyes good-naturedly, even if the worry was not completely gone. “Well, I'd say when you start falling asleep at the mid-day meal, it's time to cut back a bit. You never listen to me, though, so I won't waste my breath.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Just take care, alright? I won't be there to keep you from drowning in your soup all the time.”

“I always listen to you!” Aramis protested, ignoring the ache the whole conversation was stirring in his heart. It wasn't Porthos' fault, just the contrary. It was Aramis who had done something so huge, so dangerous that he could no longer sit and banter with his friends like they used to, that he could not ask his oldest friend for help when the thoughts of it haunted him. That he could not confess to him the darkest part of it: that he did not regret it. Not the night itself, nor what had come of it. Not the thought of a child – his child.

Porthos snorted. “Alright, you listen sometimes,” he acquiesced magnanimously. “But always is as much as an exaggeration as never.”

Aramis conceded the point with a tilt of his head, then dragged himself off the bench and said: “I'll better go and take a nap before afternoon training, then, so I won't fall asleep with a musket in my hand. I'll see you then?”

“Sure,” Porthos said, grinning widely and waving at him. “And don't oversleep, or I'll come and drag you out of bed for a bath in the horse trough. That'd wake you up quickly, eh?”

Aramis returned the grin to the best of his abilities. “No, thanks, I prefer gentler ways of being wakened.”

“Not gonna put on a dress and wake you up with a kiss!” Porthos called after him as he walked away, and the grin Aramis gave him over his shoulder felt more natural. “You'd look really nice, though!” he called back.

His grin faltered quickly, though, and he spent the next hour lying on his bed, wide awake, and tried to find a way how he could have told Porthos the truth without putting a noose around his neck like he had done to Athos.

_____________________

Standing guard was Hell. Aramis was convinced of it. Training was bad – and his performance got worse by the day – and patrols were bad – and he thanked God every time they made it through without his fatigue getting one of them killed – but standing guard was Hell. Nothing to do that required as much attention as he could spare, no conversation that kept his thoughts from straying, no movement that kept his limbs from locking up … He was sure he was trembling, and his eyes stung with involuntary tears that he blinked away quickly.

“Aramis,” he heard Porthos hiss at him, and he shook his head without looking at him.

“Aramis,” his friend repeated, “you're not well. I can see it. Everyone can see it.”

Aramis shook his head again, staring straight ahead. If he dared look at Porthos right now, he would lose it.

Porthos huffed impatiently. “Y'know, I don't wanna know what's going on. You don't need to tell me. But you can't go on like that. Look at me, Aramis.” He suddenly loomed before him, and Aramis shrank back, startled. Strong hands caught him by the elbows, keeping him upright. “When did you sleep last?”

Aramis willed his sluggish brain to come up with a quip, something that sounded enough like him that it would dispel the worry in Porthos' dark eyes. But in the end, all he managed was a pathetic “I don't know” as he blinked again, feeling moisture collecting in the corners of his eyes. That much was the truth – he had long lost track of when he slept, snatches and seconds here and there, maybe even half an hour at a time, but none of it feeling like he had truly slept and doing nothing to lighten the burden of fatigue weighing down on him.

Porthos looked at him a while longer, and Aramis felt himself swaying on his feet, clinging desperately to the last shreds of his self-control so he didn't break down right here, in Porthos' arms. Porthos huffed again and turned away. “Stay here,” he ordered. “I'm gonna talk to Athos.”

Aramis nodded helplessly, leaning back against the wall as Porthos released his grip. He drifted in his stupor until Porthos appeared again at his side and took his elbow in a strong grip. “So,” he announced, “we're going home. And you're going to sleep.”

“But,” Aramis sputtered, “our shift--”

“--is over now,” Porthos talked over him. “Don't worry about it.” He steered Aramis through the Palace's halls, paying little attention to anything else and overriding all of Aramis' weak protests. Finally, Aramis gave in – not that he expected that he would actually sleep, no matter how much Porthos wanted to help. What could he do, really? He could not take his thoughts away.

The ride to the Garrison was a blur in his mind, as was the walk up to his rooms – no, wait, these were Porthos' rooms. Aramis looked around, at a loss why Porthos had brought him here.

Porthos walked him to his bed, sat him down and sat back on his haunches before him, meeting his gaze with a dark scowl. In any other, this would have looked fearsome but even in his fragile state, Aramis could not help but know this look. This was Porthos at his most protective.

“Alright,” his friend started, “here's how I see it. There's somethin' goin' on that don't let you sleep. Don't tell me it's Madame One-or-another or Mademoiselle So-and-so. I know what you look like when you're tired because you've been enjoying yourself. So it's somethin' else, and you're not talkin' to me about it. Or the others.”

Aramis could do nothing more than nod dumbly. All of his usual light banter had dried up, and he knew it had gone too far, anyway. Porthos would never accept diversion now.

“So this is how it's gonna go,” Porthos continued. “We're goin' to bed now. And I won't ask, and you don't have to talk. But you will sleep.”

“I can't,” Aramis choked out.

“You will,” Porthos repeated confidently. “Because you know I'm here, and I've got your back.”

Aramis shook his head and leaned forward, burying his hands in his hair. “No, Porthos, Porthos, please,” he begged without knowing what he was asking for, “I can't, I--”

Porthos' hands closed around his wrists, and he tugged until Aramis had no choice but lift his head and meet his gaze. “Trust me,” Porthos implored.

There was only one reply to that: “Always.”

Porthos nodded, satisfied. “Come on.” He helped Aramis shed his doublet and boots, then guided him until he lay prone on Porthos' bed. Aramis let it happen, past refusal and past hope. He listened to Porthos moving around the room, closing the curtains so the room was dipped into a half-light, then shedding his own outer layers and crawling into the bed behind him. Porthos' arms closed around Aramis and pulled him back to his chest, his bulk shadowing him. The warmth emanating from that broad chest seemed to sink right into his bones, and he only now became aware of how cold he had been. He closed his eyes and let himself sink into it, into the strength and protection promised by the arms folded around him. Even if he could not sleep, he could rest here, knowing that his friend was here and did not want to pry, wanted nothing but for him to be warm and comfortable and get better.

Porthos' voice was a balm as he whispered: “Sleep, Aramis. I have your back.” It stripped him bare but at the same time, enveloped him like a warm blanket. Trust me, Porthos had asked, and he did, with a child's simple knowledge that no evil could touch him here. Not even the nightmare of his own creation that his life had been recently.

“Sleep,” Porthos repeated, and with a deep sigh, Aramis let go.

He slept.

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday6 #fanfic #the musketeers #flower writes #aramis #porthos #insomnia

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lu-undy · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 88 - SBT

Here it is!

"Mh, now I'm no expert on wines but that's a good one, I like it!" Mike said as he put his glass back on the table. "C'mon, boys, help yourselves to the nibbles, otherwise I'll eat everythin' and Caroline will tell me off…!"

"As I should!" She answered. "But yes, please, Lucien.. Micky, push the olives to him, dear."

"Sure…" Mundy obeyed.

"I am glad you like the wine, Mike. Madame Caroline, what are your impressions?" Lucien asked.

"Very good too, not too sweet and not too fruity."

Lucien nodded and smiled.

"So Mundy got his impressively delicate palate from you, Madame?"

"Oh?" She answered. "And please, call me Caroline."

"I shall. But oui, Mundy is gifted when it comes to tasting." Lucien went on and Mundy's cheeks turned pink.

"Well… Uh… I don't know… I mean…"

Caroline chuckled.

"Well, he is my baby after all, aren't you Micky?" She pinched his cheek and he smiled.

"Château… des… Graves?" Mike deciphered with his English pronunciation.

"Château des Graves." Lucien corrected. "Made where I come from."

"Where's that?" Mike asked.

"The region around Bordeaux, in the South-West of France."

"Bordeaux…" Mike repeated. "Isn't that the region famous for its wine?"

"Oui, the red kind in particular although our winemakers are getting better with white and rosé these days." Lucien commented as everyone snacked on between two sentences.

"So what's your story?" Mike asked. "Micky told us you were French, and if may say so, I can quite hear it in your voice, eh."

"Oh yes, charming accent!" Caroline added.

"Merci." Lucien nodded politely.

"So yeah, how did you end up in Oz of all places? What were you doin' back in France?"

"Well..." Lucien started. "I originally destined myself to the world of the stage."

"You were an actor?" Caroline asked excitedly.

"Almost," Lucien answered. "I was a singer."

"Ooh!" She exclaimed, even more enthusiastic.

"Back then, I was barely a man. But the war struck and as a young and capable man, I was drafted into the resisting forces of my country."

"Ah, sorry to hear that, son." Mike said. "I've had some mates go to fight and not return."

"I lost a lot of my brothers in arms too." Lucien said.

"But you survived, eh?"

"Oui, I did, and it was hard at first."

"Excuse me, I'll bring the salad." Caroline said.

"Hold on, Mum, I'll help." Mundy went with her.

"Y'know, Lucien, " Mike looked his guest in the eye. "I understand that. Used to have a mate who made it back but could never really live normally again."

"Indeed, it is typical among soldiers. But I didn't leave the army, I moved ranks and services."

"Oh, so you stayed there?"

"Oui, I did, all the way until my life flipped."

"Here we are with the salad!" Caroline entered. "Micky, put the chicken and potatoes on the side, thank you, sweetie."

Mundy did as he was told.

"Lucien, please?"

"Oh, but of course." Lucien passed his plate and Caroline served him. When all the plates were filled, she sat down and they all started digging in.

"Bon appétit." Lucien said. "And thank you very much for all of this effort."

"It's nothing, it feels nice to cook for Micky and his friend."

They all had a go at the salad.

"The lettuce's really fresh, Mum. Reminds me of the farm…" Mundy said with nostalgia.

"It comes from the garden, sweetie."

"Does it? Hold on, you have a garden?"

"Yeah, we do, son." Mike answered with a chuckle at Mundy's surprise. "Got a few things goin' on back there, you can have a look after dinner if you want."

"Sure!"

"Lucien, ya like gardenin'?" Mike asked.

"Oui, very much. I find that nurturing nature is fulfilling in an almost spiritual way."

"Well said, son, well said…" Mike nodded. "People now all want fancy jobs in cities, with fancy suits and ties - uh…" Mike stopped when he realised that Lucien was in fact wearing exactly that. "No offense, eh?" His eyes darted to his wife, a bit ashamed, and Caroline glared at him.

"None taken," Lucien answered with a smile. "I see perfectly what you mean."

"Yeah… Well they all want that and look at farmin' like it's dirty jobs. Let me tell you, it's honest work, honest pay, and you're helping yourself and the community… Makin' a positive difference, y'know what I mean?"

"But of course."

The concerto of cutlery on plates went on as they moved on to the main course. Caroline had prepared a roasted chicken with baked potatoes and roasted vegetables. Mike stood up to cut the chicken.

"Wanna do it, Micky?"

Mundy raised his eyes like a child. He was shocked by his father's question as much as he was honoured.

"Uh, I mean, really?"

"Yeah, you're a big boy now, c'mon, do it…!" Mike handed him the large knife.

"Right…" Mundy stood up and got busy with it, under his father's keen eyes. The Aussie looked at his mother with excited eyes for a second and she nodded, proud of him. His cheeks turned pink. "What bit d'you like, Lu'?"

"Lu?" Mike repeated and Mundy blushed beyond his ears.

"Y-yeah, it's uh…"

"It is a nickname." Lucien explained. "And of all the ways Mundy could have called me, he chose the name of a famous French biscuit brand." He chuckled and Caroline followed him in his laughter.

"Really?" She asked.

"Oui! They are everywhere in France and equally successful. So each time he calls me that way, I remember my childhood. But oui, Mundy, a bit of the breast please."

The Aussie obliged.

"Dad, still the thighs?"

Mike smiled.

"You remember?"

"Course I do." Mundy smiled and cut the chicken thigh. "Wings for Mum… And bits of the rest for me… There."

"Thanks, sweetie." Caroline got busy with the roasted vegetables. When she finished filling the plates and resumed her seat, the conversation started anew.

"So Micky told us you helped him…?" Mike started.

"In what aspect?" Lucien asked.

"With… That bloke."

"Oh," Lucien nodded. "Indeed, I did my best. I had some business to settle with him and Mundy has provided a critical helping hand." Lucien and Mundy exchanged a grin that was taken for a friendly smile.

"Why were you after'im?" Mike asked.

"Mike, that's personal…!" Caroline said.

"Non, please." Lucien answered. "It is all fine. I am happy to answer." He wiped the corners of his mouth and took a sip of the wine to clear his throat. "As Mundy may have told you, I lost my fiancée and son because of that man."

"I'm so sorry to hear that, son…" Mike answered, shaking his head.

"Merci. After that, I quit my job and rented a small flat in Paris. Similarly to Mundy, I couldn't bring myself to do anything, so I just waited to heal."

Caroline and Mike were listening carefully between the bites of food.

"How old was your son?" Caroline asked.

"Fifteen…"

"You had waited fifteen years with a kid to get married?" Mike asked.

"Mike…!" Caroline glared at him.

"What? I'm just askin'!"

"It is alright, Caroline, thank you." Lucien answered. "Oui indeed I did wait a long time. If I am truly honest, I should say that the news of my then partner being pregnant shocked me beyond belief. It made a man out of me instantly, if that makes sense."

"Oh yeah it does…" Mike answered. "Same when we got Micky."

"Suddenly you don't live as two free adults, but as the trunk of a family tree. You have to be sturdy enough to support everyone and you have the responsibility of the most fragile being in existence." Lucien added. Mundy noticed his dreamy eyes as he stared into Mike's eyes. It looked like Lucien was in fact looking in his own mind.

"Well said, son, well said."

"When Marie gave birth to Jérémy, she stopped working. I pursued my career, still climbing up in responsibility and honor until Jérémy was old enough to perhaps understand my position in the army. Unfortunately, I had to travel a lot and missed their company, and Jérémy's growth sorely."

"I'm sorry for you, son…"

"So am I." Lucien answered. "Marie hated my job and spent her time begging me to quit. She hated the risk that I put myself into everyday and she feared that if Jérémy learnt about it, he might want to join the army too."

Caroline nodded.

"I was on my last mission when the accident happened." Lucien frowned. "As Marie and Jérémy exited the house, in Boston, I was watching them from the window. It happened too fast but to me, it lasted ten years. They crossed the road when a 4-by-4 took a turn, drifted on the asphalt, and hit them. I saw Marie tackle Jérémy to try and put him to safety but she took the hit first. Both were then ejected away."

Lucien paused and put his fork down.

"I ran to them, barefoot in the street, as I saw their bodies fly; that of the woman of my life, and my son, my flesh and blood, my angel. When I reached them, Marie was still holding Jérémy in her soft limbs while his eyes were shut. The ambulance arrived and Marie smiled with a last tear before shutting her eyes."

All the forks had been put down and the silence weighed on everyone's shoulders. Lucien took a deep breath.

"After that, my story is both very similar and very different to Mundy's. I locked myself up both figuratively and concretely. I quitted my job and stayed in a small flat in Paris. Oddly enough, my isolation lasted as long as Mundy's, ten years."

Caroline and Mike's eyebrows jumped.

"We're really sorry for you, Lucien." Caroline said and Lucien raised his eyes to her, a distraught smile on his lips.

"Thank you." He nodded slightly, still quite moved.

"Go on, dear." She encouraged him. He took a deep breath and went on.

"One day, I came to learn that the man who took Marie and Jérémy away from me was here, in Australia. So I jumped in the first flight and landed here."

There was a moment of silence around the table before Mike dared speak.

"Micky said you also knew Maurice…?"

"Ah, oui, indeed I do. He is an old friend, from my military service days." Lucien answered.

"That's quite incredible!" Mike said. "I've known Maurice for decades now and I'd never have guessed he spent some time in France!"

The concerto of cutlery on plate resumed.

"Oh but he did. And having ears and eyes everywhere in the city, he helped me track down that man until I met with Mundy."

"How did you meet exactly?" Caroline asked.

"Well, I am not sure such a story is for feminine ears…"

"Aw, please! I killed this chicken myself!" She answered and Lucien's eyebrows jumped. He chuckled at the enthusiasm of the old lady.

"In that case," He cast a glance over Mike who seemed as eager to know as his wife. "I had in mind to be caught by his… Well… employees and find a way to make it to Duchemin directly."

"Dew what?" Mike asked.

"Duchemin, Arthur Duchemin was the name of that man who took everything from you and me." Lucien explained. "The first part of my plan worked beautifully and I found myself tied up to a chair by his goons."

"Oooh!" Caroline's eyes were shining in excitement.

"But I underestimated Duchemin and didn't realise he could have me killed then and there. I was blinded by my will for revenge and ignored the possibility that I could end up dead."

"So what did you do?" She asked, buzzing on her seat.

"Me? Nothing. But in an instant, the guards around me started falling one after the other. I did not understand what was happening but it caused enough of a distraction that I managed to free myself."

"Ooh, what happened?"

Lucien gave that lopsided grin that could make flowers bloom.

"Mundy tranquilised them all and saved me that day."

"W-well… I saw a bloke takin' a beatin while being tied up. And you weren't wearing their uniforms so… Heh…"

"Why were you there?" Mike asked.

"That hangar where Lu' was, that's where the alligators I was after were." Mundy answered. "There were two trucks. One empty, one with the 'gators. I got closer when I made sure all the guards were shot asleep. I opened the first truck, it was empty. When I opened the second one, I found the 'gators and Lu'."

They exchanged a conniving glance.

"Indeed, that is how we met." Lucien confirmed. "And we each considered the other like an enemy, or competition at least. In the end, we realised that we needed each other to do the job, so we teamed up."

Everyone grinned around the table.

"And so now you live together, eh?" Mike asked.

"Oui, we do. In fact, we work together too. Mundy helps with his many talents. I only take the responsibility of teaching children and teenagers."

"That's really nice of both of you." Caroline said.

"As Mike said," Lucien answered. "We try to work to make a positive difference around us."

"Yeah, honest work, and good souls." Mike said. "So you do the teachin'?"

"Oui."

"Ever done that before?"

"Oui, in the ex-colonies, a few decades ago."

"Whereabouts?"

"Northern Africa."

"Did you like it there?"

"Oui, I did. Beyond the sunny weather and warm temperatures, people's mindset and customs were and still are considerably different from ours. I learnt a lot from their simpler way of life."

"Sounds like you did an awful lot of things in your life, eh? Singer, soldier, teacher…?"

"Oui, and many others." Lucien nodded. "But please, enough about me…"

"Yeah, Mike, stop interrogating the guest…!" Caroline added. "Sorry, dear, we haven't had visits for quite a while."

"I'm just curious, Caroline!"

"Exactly!" She answered.

Mundy and Lucien chuckled at their banter.

"I am glad you survived." Lucien said as everyone was finishing their meals. "When Mundy told me the news, he was restless!"

Mundy blushed. He guessed Lucien wanted to insist on the impact that Mundy's parents' survival had on him. He smiled at his lover, hoping that Lucien would read "thank you" on his lips.

"Aw, Micky is such a sweetheart. You know Lucien, he might seem tall and strong, our boy, but he's very sensitive, very compassionate." Caroline said and held her son's hand.

"Oh, trust me, I know very well."

"Really?" Mike asked.

"Oui, he rescued a black cat and I saw the respect with which he treats him."

"Back in the days, we used to have a few dogs." Caroline explained. "They loved Micky and were so excited to be around him…!"

"I can very well see why."

"You rescued a kitty too, eh?" Mundy said to Lucien. "She's snow white, with long hair, she's gorgeous! He got her when she was a kitten and raised her. Mum, Dad, you should see them one day, the cats."

"Aw," Caroline grinned sweetly. "You can bring them next time."

"Sure. Oh and Lu' didn't tell you but he trained his cat to wait at crossroads!"

"Seriously?" Mike asked. "You can train a cat to do that?"

"Yeah, he did! And I trained Sooty boy to do the same."

"Sooty boy?" Caroline asked.

"Yeah, the black cat, he's called Soot, and the white princess is Pearl."

"Do they get along well?" Mike asked.

"More than well." Lucien answered with a smile.

"They got kittens together!" Mundy added.

"Oh bugger! That's great!" Mike said. "How many?"

And the discussion went on about the cats and the kittens.

"But what about you guys? What have you been up to?" Mundy asked.

"We got the garden goin' on at the back." Mike answered. "It's more than enough for us so we have the surplus sold. We go to the market on marketday and have a little stand there. We usually sell everything, not that it's much, but it helps pay the bills, eh?"

"Oh, that's great!" Mundy answered.

"All the veggies and potatoes you had today come from the garden." He added.

"The chicken too!" Caroline added. "By the way Micky, d'you want some more?"

"Nah, Mum, thanks, I'm full. But you have chickens? Like before?"

"Nah, not as many, just a few ones. But come on, Micky, just a bit more chicken…? A little bit…? You won't even feel it!"

"Mum, please, I wanna save some space for dessert…!"

"Fine, alright." She turned to Lucien. "And what about you, dear? You liked my roasted chicken, yeah?"

"It was exquisite, Caroline." Lucien answered. "But like Mundy, not tasting your dessert would be an insult to your culinary talents."

"Well that's some very nice way of putting it…!"

Caroline stood up and started to empty the table. Mundy helped her and in no time, Caroline was back with tea and dessert.

"And here we are…"

"Oh, Mum, is this your chocolate cake?" Mundy asked excitedly.

"Yes it is!"

"Yes!" Mundy exclaimed. "Mum, you have no idea how much I like that…!"

"Of course I do!" She answered. "Now, be a sweetheart and give everyone some tea while I cut the cake, yeah?"

"Sure."

Both got busy while Mike and Lucien leaned back on their chairs.

"So you guys continue farmin'? That's really good."

"Yeah, keeps us busy." Caroline added.

"And you, you ended up livin' together, eh?" Mike asked.

"Oui, after the events with Duchemin, we… lived separately for a year."

Mundy blushed beyond his ears. He was uncomfortable with the idea of lying to his parents. Hiding Lucien's true identity was a big enough lie but now, the Frenchman was also not talking about the period of time where he was supposedly dead. Mundy wished he could be brutally honest and just burst out with all the truth. But of course he couldn't. No, not now, and maybe not in a million years. Now was the time to get along with his parents again. He would think about telling them the truth about Lucien later… or maybe never. Gosh…

Everyone started with their dessert and Lucien couldn't hold back a smile seeing Mundy roll his eyes in bliss while eating his mother's cake.

"We were both coming back from the nerve-wrecking experience of dealing with that man." Lucien went on. "And after a year, our paths crossed again. Mundy was already working for Maurice and I was looking for something to keep my days busy, and provide Perle with everything that she needs."

"Back then, I was still living in my van with the cats."

"The cats?" Caroline asked. "You had other ones?"

Mundy blushed.

"Uh… I mean…"

"He was also feeding the strays." Lucien jumped in to his rescue. "A very compassionate soul he is, and the best of friends."

Again, the gaze that Lucien gave to Mundy, with heavy lidded-eyes, spoke much louder to the Aussie than to his parents. And then Mundy realised that if Lucien managed to remain unfazed it was because for him, it was routine, or it had been routine for decades, with him being a spy…

"Maurice's pay isn't much, but with the two of us, we can afford the bills." Mundy said. "And well, I knew Lu', he knew me so the housemate choice was quick and easy."

"Aw, that's very nice… I can't remember the last time Micky brought a friend home to be honest." Caroline said.

"And he chose one with great taste for his wines at least, eh?" Mike added with a smile.

"Many thanks, I am truly honoured to meet you." Lucien nodded his head like a bow.

The dinner went well and as the dessert plates were now all empty, the discussion naturally came to an end.

"Thank you again for your delicious dinner and for having me to share it." Lucien said at the door while Caroline gave him his jacket. "Oh, thank you."

"You're very welcome, boys." She tapped his arm and Lucien smiled. "You'll be safe on your way back, yeah?"

"Yeah, Mum, don't worry…" Mundy kissed his mother on her head.

"Right, right, be safe, boys, eh?" Mike added as hugs were exchanged and hands were shaken.

"We will, Mike." Lucien answered.

They made their way to the motorcycle and Lucien motioned Mundy to drive. The Aussie hopped on, and Lucien behind him.

"Come back and visit soon, Micky, eh?" Caroline asked.

"I will, Mum, don't worry."

Both slipped on their helmets and Mundy started the engine.

"See ya!" Mike and Caroline waved at Mundy and Lucien who flew away in the street.

"Aw, such good boys they are… And Lucien…! Very polite, eh?" Caroline said as Mike and her made it back home. They cleared up the rest of the table and chatted about their dinner again.

"Really seems like our boy Micky is a man now, eh? Only thing missin' is a good sheila and boom!" Mike said.

"Aw, yeah… Can you imagine? Micky with a girlfriend…?" Caroline answered.

"Can't really, he never brought anyone home before. It's the first time in… whew… Can you remember the last time he brought a friend home?" Mike brought more plates to the sink, where Caroline was washing the dishes. "Caroline?"

He found her staring emptily in front of her and frowning.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"There's something that doesn't add up…" She answered.

"What?"

"It's his jacket."

"Micky's?"

"Nah, his friend's…" She put a hand on her hip.

"What about it?"

"They said that they moved in together to afford the rent, right?"

"Yeah, and?"

"How come the brand of his jacket is Lemercier?"

"Le-what?" Mike asked.

"Lemercier, it's the expensive tailor in the old centre, he only does custom-made stuff…"

"Bah, he might've got that at work with Maurice." Mike answered. "Y'know how rich folks can throw anything in the bin, Caroline."

"Yeah…"

She resumed her washing of the dishes and Mike helped her. Their conversation fell silent, and as Mike glanced at his wife again, he saw that her brow was still furrowed.

"Not buyin' it?" He asked.

"No, I'm not. There's something that's missin', Mike."

"Ah, women…"

"Mike, I am being serious." She raised her eyes to her husband and pushed her glasses back with the back of her hand. "Lucien is polite, nice and all, but there is something we're missing."

#tf2 spy #tf2 sniper #sniperspy #SBT

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radioways · 4 years ago

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❝ what’s the source on this rumor ? ❞ (I don't know where or how but now I've listened to more of penumbra I want nothing more than for Daisy to interact with Rita)

“ IT AIN’T A RUMOR, it’s the truth i tell ya ! ” rita protests, practically pouting, almost pouting, not that she’d admit it, it’s not like she actually pouts, not well, or not as well as some of the stream actors, mister dimaggio’s got a really good pout, actually. focus rita. focus. she reminds herself. mista steel made it very clear that this was very important work and that she had to know what was going on, otherwise, their whole case may be in danger, and then she’d never hear the end of it, juno just complaining, and whining and pouting probably. not that he’d admit that either. focus. rita shifts. “ look, it comes from a reliable source, real reliable, like ex cop reliable . . . ? ” she isn’t sure she should stress the fact, she and juno aren’t from here, and the private eye work wasn’t the same but there couldn’t be that big of a difference between here and there, right ? “ like i said, someone's planning a . . . something, something big and bad and it’s right under your nose. ” she does however stress that fact, try to play it up, that’s what mista steel said.

“ ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING ? ” the archives aren’t exactly the safest place, not that it stopped him from joining, and her from following, she had to. “ look, all i’m sayin is something really weird is goin’ on here, and you’re chalkin’ it up to what ? some silly secretary who watches too much tv ? i mean sure you ain’t wrong, but c’mon. i know you gotta feel it too, otherwise i’m never gonna hear the end of what a wise guy he thinks he is ! ”

* ⟢ @huntloyalty ︱ prompt accepting !

#huntloyalty #( 💕 ) 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦 ━━ ❝ rita . ⟩ ic !#i don't know what this is about : ////

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inkribbon796 · 4 years ago

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Like a House of Cards Ch. 10: To Go Forward, Sometimes you Have to go Backwards

Summary: Mistakes happen when you mess around with magical objects.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

Brody walked down to the parking lot after the Sides and the Androids had gone up to talk about the plan and safety measures.

Glitch Logan was running diagnostics on the completed machine so Brody was left in silence for a bit.

So it left the hitman with his thoughts. Which wasn’t always a good thing. He took out his wallet to look at a picture. It was the only professional picture he had of the twins.

His Dark — Brody’s Dark — was sitting in a chair with their little twin sons seated in his lap. The hitman was standing behind them. Dark was the only one of the four without a huge smile, his smile a bit more subdued.

The sight brought a sad sight deep from Brody’s face. Another family was being ripped out from under him. Just when things were starting to get good again.

At the sound of footsteps, Brody quickly pocketed his wallet and turned to see, to his relief, his head saw Glitch Logan watching him. His nanite body visible.

Glitch Logan looked at Brody, “You didn’t tell him.”

“A’course[1] not,” Brody scoffed, and put his wallet away. “Bubblegum fooker is takin’ Dark from me, I’m not gonna help him take my twins too.”[2]

Glitch Logan was quiet, which just let Brody go off on a tirade, “I shouldn’t have ta sacrifice one set ‘a my kids fer the other. I wanted T.B, Lils, and Paddy ta be alive an’ safe but I shouldn’t have ta let the Twins not exist ta cause it. An’ I shouldn’t have ta let my kids die ta get the Twins.”[3]

“Your logic is not flawed,” Glitch Logan agreed. “Unfortunately that does not seem to be the situation we have found ourselves in.”

“Fook!”[4] Brody shouted.

“There a problem?” Nestor came down with the rest of the group they needed. Silver, Jackie, Dark, and Wilford had accompanied the time travelers and their past doubles.

“No,” Brody scoffed, glaring at Wilford. “Obviously not.”

Janus was walking down with Roman. The creative Side not wanting to be far from Logan.

“Head back upstairs,” Glitch Logan told them. “This will be a quick procedure.”

“As if we trust you,” Roman rolled his eyes.

“I don’t care if you trust me, I care if you’re safe,” Glitch Logan spat.

“We’ll stay until the transfer starts,” Janus told him. “To make sure you don’t do anything to him.”

The young glitch demon smiled, “I don’t need any of that anymore.”

“Did you do anything to him?” Roman demanded.

“I have only been here for a minute or two, I am fine,” Logan reassured.

Everyone was having their little eleventh hour conversations. Jackie walked up to Diamonds who was signing with J.J.

“Got a question, before I head up,” Jackie asked Diamonds, gesturing to his own throat. “If yeh[5] don’t mind me askin’[6].”

“Not at all,” Diamonds smiled, his voice crackled a bit. “Logan, Google, and Mortician made this for me. It’s a voice box that transmits signals from my brain to the box. It does have to be replaced every few months because my magic destroys it, but it was quite a nice gift.”

“Yeah,” Jackie smiled.

As Jackie was talking to J.J, Brody walked over to Chase.

“I hope yeh[5] don’t remember anythin’[7] I know,” Brody told Chase. “If my world an’ my family is gonna crash down around me, then I don’t wanna remember it.”[8]

Chase was just staring at him, “Me too.”

Brody turned to glare at Wil, “Take care ‘a him, or else I will find some way ta make yeh pay fer it.”[9]

“I will,” Wilford promised but it was clear Brody didn’t believe it.

Then he turned to look at Dark, his expression softer, “Yeh deserve the world, yeh really do an’ when yeh see the Actor, punch him fer me. ‘Cause I won’t be there ta do it.”[9]

“I don’t need to be convinced to hit him more than once,” Dark hissed.

Suddenly the core of the machine began to glow sharply and everyone had a moment’s notice before pain ripped through the people in the middle of the room and a crack shot down the room. Dark, Wil, the Sides, Diamonds, and J.J to one side, and everyone else to the other. A white light engulfed the room.

When the light cleared Silver was standing in a grassy field with Jackie, Ethan, Brody, Chase, and just the Host. The second Host and Nestor were missing.

“I feel weird,” Ethan was patting his chest. “I feel really pissed and angry and I don’t know why.”

“What Ethan is from the transfer, if he is lucky then it will soon fade.” The Host began to run out of the field, “The Host, Brody, and the heroes need to find a time rift out of this point in time quickly.”

“Why, where are we?” Mark asked, picking up Ethan and following him as the rest of the group followed the Host as well.

Coming to a halt, the Host turned to look at them. “Dark is not with the group so the heroes should rid themselves out of their outfits, they will stand out.”

“What is goin’[10] on?” Chase demanded.

“The Host and his allies are in the year 1963, and today is the day that the Entity and the Madman meet again. They will become allies and take over the city within a matter of weeks. By the end of the month the city will become a completely different creature and will be irreversibly driven down the path that will cause the creations of the heroes that fight against both of them.”

“What?” Brody shouted. “How’d we all get thrown back? Where are the others?”

“They have the Anomaly, so we need to find our current Anomaly and use that to get to where Dark and the others are,” the Host explained as everyone started switching into their civilian clothes. “The other heroes and villains were pushed into a different reality and the two groups must regroup.”

With their outfits a touch more casual, the group tried to look like they weren’t time travelers or aliens.

Ethan had to stop a couple times to catch his breath and not have a panic attack. Because he felt like someone had emotionally set him on fire and he wanted to stay next to Mark or Séan the whole time and only started to feel like he was going back to normal by the time the Host took them through a building where Mark heard a rather familiar voice. It was Dark’s and Wil’s voices. Mark could smell the odor of blood and rot in the air. As if Dark had been killing with his aura.

As the crew snuck through the building, Mark froze to listen in. They were so close. Dark wasn’t as powerful, he wasn’t prepared. He could—

“Wil, she’s sleeping,” Dark grumbled, his voice sounding almost as if it hadn’t been used in some time.

“Oh good, good,” Wil decided. Some of his words were hard to understand but suddenly Wil yelled, “I’ve got a great idea, we’re gonna make a TV show.”

Dark was quiet for a long time and Mark wished he could see his face. But he lingered long enough to hear the future mob boss sigh in frustrated indulgence, “Okay.”

A light clapping reached Mark’s ears, “Excellent, Dames, we can talk details at this lovely little diner it’s got—”

At this point, their voices began to get farther away, and the Host cleared his throat so Mark raced away from the door and into an alley.

“Silver and Jackie will accompany the Host into the next building to get the Anomaly, all others should remain up here.”

“Okay, okay, let’s go,” Séan agreed and the Host used his aura to help them break into the apartment building. But since it was set into the hill there were three flights of stairs connecting them to the ground floor and the Host was practically flying down the stairs, his aura helping him navigate the steps and get down safely. Then he took them down the hall to a room where there was a huge magical sigil on the ground and a magic standing in a red tux with black eyes, and a wailing infant cradled in his hands.

It was the Actor, on the eve of another great story.

“There you are,” Marc smiled as the little squirming and crying bundle. “You’ll make a wonderful addition to our story, won’t you?”

Then the door was ripped open and the Host was there. Marc and the baby both startled. “The hell?”

Now that Marc was distracted the Anomaly he’d been working with had nowhere else to put its magic so it ripped open another rift in time. Another point decades in the future but not quite the time that the Host and the others had come from.

Séan had been racing down the hallway and then tripped on a carpet. So he slammed right into the Actor who dropped the baby right into the time rift that immediately closed shut.

“No!” The Actor shouted. “That was my fucking son!”

“Yikes! Host can we get the kid back?” Séan demanded. “Where’d he go?”

The Host’s aura forced a portal around the Actor and he was gone, the box that housed the Anomaly glitched and the Seer grabbed the box and began to sprint out of the room.

He opened the box and quickly pulled out a bracelet, holding the box with his aura as he ran, “the Host and the heroes must go now. Before the Actor returns. They do not have long but they cannot face him now. They do not have the power nor space to be able to do so.”

“Who was that?” Mark asked, following the Host as Séan ran alongside Mark and they headed back up the stairs.

“The archnemesis to the Entity,” the Host told him. “The child he had would have been used as leverage against the Entity. But now he is in somewhat safer hands and will eventually live under the Entity and the Madman’s care. You have actually just saved him from a loveless environment.”

“Was that one ‘a yer brothers?”[11] Séan asked. “Yeh have what? Five ‘a ‘em?”[12]

The Host leaned over the banister to look down at them, “The Host also has a sister.”

“Yeah, but yeh an’ that guy hinted that was a boy,”[13] Jackie stalled.

“Yes, and it is true that the infant was one of the Entity and the Madman’s sons, but the Host likes to include his sister when he can.” The Host gave them a huge smile before starting to dart back up the stairs.

Séan and Mark smiled at each other before following the Host back out of the apartment and into daylight where Chase and Brody were still waiting with Ethan.

“You guys got it?” Ethan asked.

“Time Anomaly scored,” Séan snapped his fingers over in the Host’s direction. “Let’s go home.”

The Host motioned for everyone to pull in together. “The heroes still have to locate the second group. They were pushed into a separate dimension and cannot be left there.”

“We get it, we’re pressed for time,” Mark agreed. “How do we do this?”

“The Host will start up the transfer,” the Host offered as everyone gathered in close. “Six will start the transfer but only five will move through.”

“Do I have time ta[14] say a couple words?” Brody asked.

“Yes, but Brody does not have long,” the Host warned.

“Fine,” Brody agreed before walking over to Chase.

“Look out fer[15] him okay,” Brody asked Chase. “Yeh don’t have ta like him, but just make sure Wil doesn’t take advantage ‘a him. He means e’erythin’ ta me.”[16]

“I can’t promise I’ll be good at it, but I’ll try,” Chase promised.

“Thanks,” Brody smiled sadly, taking out his wallet to look at the picture one last time. The world seemed to fold in on itself around them as a blinding white light came from the Host and engulfed the group. “That’s all I need.”

With a roaring in everyone’s ears the past and future of two different timelines compressed a little tighter before the hole in space and time flexed again and the Host sent them to find the others that had been separated from them.

After the flash of blinding light faded, they were standing in the same back alley. The streets were right but the feel in the air was wrong.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations

1. Of course

2. Bubblegum fucker is taking Dark from me, I’m not going to help him take my twins too.

3. I shouldn’t have to sacrifice one set of my kids for the other. I wanted T.B, Lils, and Paddy to be alive and safe but I shouldn’t have to let the Twins not exist to cause it. And I shouldn’t have to let my kids die to get the Twins.

4. Fuck!

5. you

6. asking

7. anything

8. If my world and my family is going to crash down around me, then I don’t want to remember it

9. You deserve the world, you really do and when you see the Actor, punch him for me. Because I won’t be there to do it.

10. going to

11. Was that one of your brothers?

12. You have what? Five of them?

13. Yeah, but you and that guy hinted that was a boy

14. to

15. for

16. You don’t have to like him, but just make sure Wil doesn’t take advantage of him. He means everything to me.

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arthurmorgen · 4 years ago

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A Tale of Two Animals

Prompt: Modern au, where Arthur and reader are self quarantining with each other, and reader catches Arthur playing on her animal crossing island. - sarcasmwithasideofsass

A/N: I tried XD

Fluff

...

Admittedly, self quarantining hadn't been that bad of an experience for you. In fact, it made you feel more than a little guilty. That while you were cooking meals, binging Netflix, and cuddling with the love of your life. People were sick, losing their jobs, and even dying.

But the way the two of you were living, It was your idea of paradise...that was until the both of you cleared out your Netflix queue.

Then things got a little rough. Arthur was a man of action, and not having anything to do had made him stir crazy. He was quicker to argue, and sometimes he’d say things without fully thinking them through.

He would always apologize profusely, even when it wasn’t necessary. You knew him, and knew that this was really hard on him. Besides, he never hurt you the way he always assumed he did. He was too hard on himself.

One time it was a little argument over a mug you loved. He had put in the dishwasher, when you’d always carefully hand wash the item.

He’d called it a ‘stupid mug’, and you, being locked up and slightly stir crazy yourself, started to tear up. He apologized on and off for the next hour, and promised to do the dishes for the next month.

A promise that so far he’d fulfilled.

Then you made the grave mistake, one that you’d regret for the next TEN days, you turned it to a local PBS station and got Arthur obsessed with a damn ten-part horse documentary.

They were an hour and forty five minutes a piece. And it wasn’t really that the footage was so boring, it was the narration. The man’s voice was calming, almost too calming, and would put you to sleep within minutes. You’d awake to the sound of the man's voice only to find Arthur still enthralled.

Which, all of this didn’t sound like a big deal, but it threw off your sleep schedule. And when you're stuck inside, with nothing to watch, sleep becomes something you really looked forward to.

And so, it became his nightly ritual to eat his dinner, wash all the dishes, put on his oversized comfy lounge pants, and sprawl out on the couch to watch another episode of the documentary.

On the fourth night of the documentary you had reached your limit. You just could not take one more second of his old monotone voice, and you searched the internet for something to entertain you...or rather something that you could buy, you should say.

It was then you came upon the new Animal Crossing game. You had played it when you were younger and really enjoyed it, so without overthinking it you added it to your cart, paid a little extra for overnight shipping (you desperately needed it before tomorrow night), and purchased it.

After making sure you received your email receipt, you stood from the couch, stretched a little, and kissed Arthur on the top of his head.

He tore his eyes from the television and looked up at you. “You goin’ to bed so early?”

“Yeah, I’m feeling a little tired.”

He moved to stand but you gently pushed him back down. “Finish your show.” You bent down and kissed him lovingly on the mouth.

“I can pause it and save it for tomorrow.” His eyes twinkled with mischief and any other night you would have pulled him to the bedroom, but you were NOT prolonging your torture for another night.

“No! I mean no, I don’t really feel well. Kinda got a headache.”

He frowned and reached up to feel your forehead. “You need me to run to the store to get ya sumthin’?”

You smiled. “No, I’m fine, really just need some sleep.” You yawned trying to convince him.

You were apparently an ok actor. “Well alright. You let me know if you ain’t feelin’ good sweetheart.”

“I will, I promise.”

When he nodded satisfied with your answer, and pressed play, you almost ran to your bedroom.

The next day you spent not so patiently waiting for your package. Just after you put away the sandwich stuff that you used to prepare lunch, you got the notification that it was delivered.

You ran to the door almost dropping your phone, and retrieved your small box. You ripped through the packaging and waited for it to load on your switch.

And just as Timmy and Tommy were welcoming you to the game, Arthur walked in hair wet and slicked back, wearing nothing but a towel. He smelled fresh and amazing, just as he always did.

“I thought I heard the door slam.”

“You did, it’s fine. I just got a package.” You didn’t look up as you were reading the instructions on the small screen. To be honest you didn’t want to get distracted, and before you was one hell of one.

He frightened you a little as he bent over you curious as to what you were doing.

“It’s just a little game that I wanted to play. Figured it would be a great time since I’m stuck here.”

Taking one look at the graphics you could tell he wanted to make fun of you by the way he opened and closed his mouth a few times.

You decided to stop him short, not wanting another stupid argument. “I played it when I was a kid. It's super nostalgic for me.”

His nod was one of understanding and thanks, glad that he didn’t start something from nothing.

And that’s the last you really paid attention to anything for hours, until he brought you a plate of hot tacos.

You looked up red eyed and confused. “What time is it?” You looked around for your phone.

He handed it to you and chuckled. “Goin’ on eight. Thought you might be hungry.”

You gave a playful pout as your stomach growled smelling the delicious looking food.

“Game must be really good.”

You nodded with a mouthful of taco. A little embarrassed that you ate half of it in one bite. But happy that he knew exactly how you liked yours prepared.

“What’s it about?”

You swallowed. “Eh, nothing really. You just kind of build things and help friends out”.

“Oh well, I’m glad you're having fun.” He said without any malice.

“Gosh Arthur these tacos are amazing.” You took another large bite.

He chuckled lightly “It’s like you say, things always taste better when you don’t make them.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t help. I know it’s been our thing since...”

He raised his hand in dismissal. “You cook all the time for me. It is the least I could do for you. ‘Sides you looked like you were really having a good time.”

Your face flushed slightly. Had he been watching you? You knew you did that thing where you bit your bottom lip when you concentrated. It made you a little self conscious, but he would have none of that.

“You sure are beautiful, you know that?” He gently moved a piece of hair from your forehead.

“Arthur…”

“I mean it. You’re absolutely perfect. Can’t believe I’m so lucky.” He shook his head in amazement.

You were at a loss for words so you replied with the only thing you knew he needed to hear. “I love you so much Arthur.”

He reached down and kissed you hard. Sometimes words weren’t enough for him. He was after all, a man of action.

Things were getting heated, your tacos forgotten, when an alarm started blaring.

You looked at him in a daze and giggled softly. “It’s time for your program.”

He slowly opened his eyes and sighed. “Yep.”

He stared at you looking drugged by your beauty.

You smacked his arm playfully. “Watch your ponies.”

That sobbered him up. “They ain’t ‘ponies’ they are stallions and mustangs, and..”

“I’m joking.” You cut him short saving his lecture for later you were sure. “Hurry you're going to miss some of it.”

He turned the TV on, and you excitedly picked your game back up. So focused on it, you never heard a word the boring old man said.

It was late. Real late. You hadn’t played a game through the night since you were in high school. But as you admired your island, you felt that it was worth it.

You looked to the otherside of the couch and saw that Arthur hadn’t wanted to leave you. He was sprawled out breathing heavily, obviously deep in sleep.

The sun was rising and you thought it a better idea just to leave him be. He’d be up soon anyhow. You plugged your game in to charge and went to get a couple hours of sleep.

It was around lunch time when you awoke. You hated sleeping in but then again, where did you have to be?

After showering, and brushing your hair and teeth, you groggily made your way to make some coffee.

When you entered the hallway you heard your game. Worried that you had left it on you hurriedly entered the room, and to your surprise, were met with the sight of Arthur, brows furrowed, deep in concentration playing your game.

You smiled wickedly at the sight and cleared your throat loudly.

He jumped like he had just been shot and placed your game quickly on the coffee table. “Oh god! You scared me.” He placed his hand on his chest for dramatic effect.

You walked over to him slowly, hands on your hips, and tried your best to look angry. “Now what were you just doin’?”

“I, I…”

“You what?”

“I was just curious is all.” He nervously ran his hand through his hair.

“Curious?”

“Well, yeah. You were havin’ so much fun, I just wanted to see what it was about. Ya know?”

His voice sounded so innocent and his eyes looked so wide from shock. Arthur Morgan wasn't used to getting caught.

You really shouldn't do it but you couldn't help it, you started laughing. So hard that you actually had to bend over.

He stood up placing his hands on his hips. His hair was an absolute mess, sticking up from all angles, and he actually attempted to look at you seriously.

Which, of course, made you laugh harder. So hard that tears started streaming down your face.

There was something about this large, handsome, intimidating man, sneaking your switch and waiting until you were asleep to play Animal Crossing. And then getting caught all while being extremely embarrassed about it.

Either he finally started to see the humor in it, or perhaps he got joy out of seeing you so happy, he too started to laugh.

He walked to you and hugged you tightly, then playfully threw you onto the couch. Neither of you stopped laughing for a while, not until your sides were splitting and you could take no more.

He nuzzled your neck. “I’m real sorry I played your game without permission.”

You briefly chuckled while stroking his muscular arm. “No you're not.” You whispered back.

“Alright, I’m sorry that I got caught.”

You both kept laughing until, still tired from the previous night, you fell asleep in each other's arms.

A loud alarm woke you both. You snatched his phone from the side table mercifully stopping the noise.

He mumbled. “Don’t worry it's recording.”

You sighed heavily.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #if this doesn't show up under the tag we gonna have a problem #one shot

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willow-of-hingashi · 4 years ago

Text

[RP] Sea Lights

(( Rating: PG-13 ))

(( Genre: Slice of Life, Romance ))

(( Trigger Warning: Crude language and mentions of sexual situations. ))

(( Cast: Emmaline Ibori of @the-firetouched and Nobuyuki Ienaka ))

Nobuyuki is fidgeting. With the bandages on his arm gone, he didn't have much to mess with. Pinching each of his fingers as though they were the bridge of a shamisen, he waited.

He'd asked Emma to meet him at the end of the Anchor Yard in Limsa Lominsa the day after their mission. It was a quiet enough evening this late at night that nobody was really present, save for fishermen casting their nets after fullmoon sardines. In fact, he felt proud of himself knowing what those were. If anything, maybe Emma would be impressed. Preening, he denied the want for that. After all, he'd only called her here for a meeting. Nothing more.

Upon Emma's inevitable arrival, Nobuyuki's chest puffed up like a bothered peacock. His first instinct was to go, 'what took you so long?' He managed to quell his nerves enough to say something more polite. "You're a bit late." Slightly more polite. "What kept you? You had me worried."

Emma walks down the pier with an ease she carries in few other places. The rising moon dances in prisms off the calm sea, casting her skin in a cool pallor as she casually tugs at the hem of her shirt, looking for all the world like she belongs here on the whitewashed stones of Limsa Lominsa. But in reality, she wants for the calming shock of sea spray. Something to shake her out of this gnawing feeling that Something is happening. Like a triggered instinct without origin.

She watches Nobu for a moment, bathed in sea light, and the feeling gets wobblier and more amorphous, so she is glad to hear him scold her, as he ever does. She smiles.

"Well, ye know, I know people 'round here. I always get stopped," she says, but it's...not a lie so much as not the truth in this instance. She shakes her head. "Nah, jus'...took the scenic route. I guess."

She rubs the back of her neck and clears her throat. "It's nice to see the city at nigh'. When the pirates ain't causin' trouble anyhow." A flash of a grin. "This is my home turf. Ye don' need to worry. What's goin' on?"

Right to business, as is her way.

The light reflecting off the water casted ripples of light along Nobuyuki's slim-fitting pants. He shifted his weight between his long legs, eying Emma for a moment. He feels her worry, despite her casual demeanor. With what's happened recently, it forms a sad pit in his heart, so he is quick to reassure her.

"Nothing's happened," he insisted. His eyes trailed down, opting to rest on her arms. He was taking in her stance, but his gaze lingered. She looked so muscular and sturdy, even when cloaked in the winter night's chill. When his sight landed on her strong hands, his eyes quickly flickered to the side. He gripped his own bicep through his jacket, filled with an overwhelming awareness of how callused his fingers were for a moment. Being a musician does that to one's hands, after all. It was then he also noticed how quiet he was being.

"I wanted to change that," came his next response. He went straight to the point, no dallying around anymore. "I was thinking. . . perhaps we could-" Bond? No, that's too forward. "-spend the. . ." For his promise to himself of not dallying, it wasn't working. He wasn't like himself. He swallowed, trying to make his unsteady breath and the skipping he felt in his chest even. Why was this so difficult? "Spend the night sometime."

Saying he missed having Emma over since she had moved out to her own apartment felt so forward, it was almost undignifying. He didn't need anyone's presence. He just wanted Emma's. That's it.

"We can go out to a bar or do something for Starlight, perhaps. Something that fits both of our tastes." This was his second Starlight, Emma may be aware. Likely his first that he hasn't spent alone, too.

I was thinking, perhaps we could spend the night--

That is about where the bulb of her brain cracks and shatters.

He's not propositioning you, some logical part of her realizes, once he explains further what he means -- and it isn't like she's some child in this regard. Emma has been propositioned before. She knows how to handle things like this with stoic gruffness when one needs blow off steam on a ship. But that's not what this is. That's not what this is! That's not...

Her face mottles orange; she can feel it burn. She looks pointedly into his shoulder and then into the ocean, nodding to signal he has been heard. Her thoughts feel like wool rubbing on her skull -- and she's no good with words on a good day, so of course the first thing she can summon is what falls out.

"Like a date?"

Fuck.

"...I mean...if you..."

Nobuyuki's first instinct is to deflect and deny it. "It's not really-" For once, he had to be honest with himself. With other people. He's used to feigning being attracted to somebody; serving sake to handsy, wet-dog-breathed drunks in teahouses, who visit for the young male kabuki actors almost exclusively to bed them. Even Emma was familiar with Nobuyuki talking of his ex-lover, Minako. The daughter of a blind biwa player, she met him when she was a busker of the pleasure district. To this day, Nobuyuki is confused whether it was out of attraction or obligation that he went out with her.

Even in the past, he's only really accepted requests towards him, never having made them himself. Both times had the same result. Minako asked him out, got demanding, then got bored. Johdi asked him out, got demanding, then got bored. It was the same formula each time. Would it repeat itself?

Nobuyuki's heart pounded in a way he couldn't describe. His cheeks burned, albeit in a strangely pleasant manner that almost felt shameful. Where he could up with poetic words, he found none. Just uncharacteristic bashfulness.

"I would not be opposed to making it a date," he managed to reply. "If it is something you'd like to pursue, let's go out?" He managed to keep his voice from cracking somehow. "If you don't like it, then. . ."

Oh shit.

She coughs out a ragged laugh, mostly at herself. This kind of thing feels like something she watches happen to other people. She remembers the first time she saw Nobu, and thought how pretty he was -- and then realizing he was a man, and being even more curious about him. She didn't think it would ever...she never thought it could...

"Then I'd be making an arse outta myself, probably." She smirks, despite herself, but her eyes cast away shyly. She's never felt so delicate before, but not in a bad way. She's deeply unsure how to navigate this feeling, and relies on an old standby: staring out into the sea.

"...aye, it could all go tits up..." she says quietly, as if answering an unspoken question. "Or it could go...good...?"

And somehow, that's more frightening! What would that mean? She's had physical flings before, but the risks here are sharper. She wants this to go...well. At the very, very least, she doesn't want to lose one of the more genuine and unexpected friendships of her life.

"...either way..."

She balls up her fists and squares her shoulders like she is preparing to fight someone but her voice remains soft. "...I'd be a fool 'n a half to ignore it. The...I..." She gulps and tries to meet his eyes. "I like you, Nobu. So. We should...try it out?"

The corners of Nobuyuki's mouth tug upward, shyly grinning as he manages to meet Emma's eyes in return. Her curls framing her freckled face, her amber eyes, her words. . . though she put on the look of being tough often, there was something cute about it all. He gave an airy laugh of relief. Good, she wasn't repulsed by the idea. That was a start!

"Thank you," was the first thing that came to his mind. "I-I like you, too." Is this a good idea? It was probably one of his better ones. Gradually, his giddiness dies down. He honestly didn't think he'd get this far, but at least he was slightly prepared.

#ffxiv rp #ffxiv hyur #ffxiv crystal #the-firetouched #emmaline ibori #his rolling wave; nobu x emma #nobuyuki ienaka #nobuyuki stories

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currahee-gal · 5 years ago

Note

Omg can you give us some slowburn Liebgott? Or any Liebgott? Also your Toye fic was excellent!!!

WOW THIS ONE IS SUPER OLD! And wait…did somebody say slowburn??? Because do I HaVe A tReAt FoR yOu!! I really hope you like this Liebgott slowburn. I put my blood, sweat and tears into it. And thank you so much!!

The Five Times Joe Liebgott Almost Kissed Her (and the One Time She Did It for Him)

Pairing: Joe Liebgott x Reader

Warnings: Frustration, angst, minor character death, Liebgott being a dorky jerk, reader being a dorky jerk back, lots and lots of cursing, fluffy, honestly it has a little bit of everything except smut so. Please also watch out for misspellings, grammatical errors, as well as overall awkward sentence phrasing. This took a very long time to write and I am very tired. Mostly edited, but I’m not perfect.

Word count: 7,220 (oops my finger slipped)

A/N: Did somebody say slowburn?!?! You request, I deliver. This monster is finally finished and all I can say is thank goodness it is. I really hope you guys enjoy this. I did. I love Liebgott. Send me more Liebgott because I love him. These stories are solely based on the actors from the Band of Brothers series, not on the actual heroes

The hunting party watched the deer flee into the forest in annoyance. Joe slumps his shoulders and groans.

“Oh damn it Shifty, you let ‘em get away! Army oughtta be glad to be rid of you.”

Shifty nods a little before lowering his M-1. “I wish, you know? It seems they want me to stay around a while.”

“Are you serious?” Liebgott’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates.

“How many points you need?” Malarkey asks on the other side of the line.

“15.” Shifty sighs, turning his head to Malark.

“15? Jesus Christ, I thought I had it bad.” Malarkey sighed in disbelief. Shifty shrugged and readjusted the firearm in his grip.

“No purple hearts, never was injured.” With his statement, Shifty took a step forward, the rest of the party following.

There was a long moment of silence that followed. The only sounds that could be heard were the sounds of birds chirping and the crunching of twigs and dry leaves under their army issued boots. It was broken by Malarkey with a statement that made everyone perk up.

“God, if Shifty ain’t goin’ home…”

Liebgott immediately thought of you. He flashed on the conversation he had with you at breakfast this morning.

“Can I have your toast?” You asked, your voice still filled with sleep and your eyes cloudy. Joe shrugged.

“I don’t know Y/N, can you?” Joe sneered, glancing up at you from his eggs and potatoes.

“Joseph David Liebgott, may I please have your toast, for Pete’s sake?” You groaned, reaching for your coffee and taking a sip. He smiled and shrugged.

“Yes you may.” Joe handed you the warm, buttered slice of bread.

You mumbled a “thanks” as you took a bite of the slice.

Joe poked at his potatoes with his fork for a moment before peeking up at you. You were staring out the window, the sun was hitting your face and making your gorgeous eyes sparkle in the morning light. He also noticed the dark circles under your eyes.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You whipped her head to face him, looking startled. He could see your thought shrinking smaller in your eyes. He felt his chest tighten with a pang of guilt.

“You okay?” Joe put down his fork and furrowed his brows at you worriedly.

The look that came over your features made his stomach churn with worry. Your skin turned pale and your eyes darted down to stare at the contents of your coffee mug. He saw your hands tighten around the cup, your knuckles starting to turn white. He could tell you were debating something in your head. He noticed your jaw clench and unclench as you took a glance out the window again. After a moment, brought the mug to your lips and closed your eyes, taking an inhale before heaving a deep sigh.

“Winters pulled me aside last night. I’m five points shy of going home. I’m being shipped back out.”

“Y/N isn’t going home either.” Joe muttered.

“What do ya mean?” Malarkey almost hollered.

“What do ya think I mean?!” Joe yelled back, spit flying from his mouth as he spoke. “She’s five points short.”

“You’re kidding.” Perconte sputtered, shocked. “Christ, it don’t matter if she’s got the points or not, send the poor girl home. She’s been through enough…”

Bull started laughing a little, making the group of men turn their heads to the gentle giant.

“You’d think that after everything, she and Liebgott would’ve gotten married by now.”

This made everyone chuckle, except Joe.

“What the hell are you guys talkin’ about?! I-”

“Oh come on Liebgott,” Ramirez shook his head at his friend. “Don’t play dumb.”

“The two of you have been dancing around your feelings for each other since we were running up Currahee. Don’t try to deny it!” Malarkey grinned. Joe shook his head, a fuzzy feeling bubbling in his chest.

“You guys are nuts. I haven’t even kissed her.”

“You’ve known her for three fuckin’ years now and you haven’t even kissed her yet?! You’re the one that’s nuts, pal.” Perconte chuckled.

“But they have come pretty close a couple of times, if I do remember correctly.” Bull snickered.

Joe blinked a couple times, the memory floodgates bursting open.

1. Lunchtime

The stale summer air lingered in the dining hall at Camp Toccoa. Joe sat in front of his lunch, which looked meatloaf, but he honestly couldn’t tell. All of Easy was exhausted from running Currahee so there wasn’t much talking going on at the table. That was until Webster slapped Joe’s shoulder a couple times.

“What do you want, Web?” Joe drawled.

“Look, it’s her.” Web pointed to the girl in line to get food. Everyone in Easy had heard about the female NCO in their company, but few had been brave enough to try and talk to her. People say she’s fairly quiet and keeps to herself, but she’s impressive. Joe had seen your while running, you were quite the athlete.

“So? She’s just gettin’ her lunch. Big fuckin’ deal.” Joe glances up at you as you start walking towards the tables and soon passes by the two of them.

“Have you talked to her?” Webster glances over his shoulder to see you sit down with Luz and Toye a few tables down. Joe shakes his head, running a hand through his sweaty hair.

“No, don’t even know her name.” Joe gets up from the table, grabbing his tray.

“Where are you going?” Web asked.

“Jesus, Web, quit grilling me! ‘M not hungry, this food is fuckin’ disgusting. I’ll be right back. Try not to miss me too much.” Joe gets up and starts making his way towards the kitchen window. He places his tray on the counter and gives the chef a tight smile. Just as he turns to leave, he runs straight into somebody.

“Jesus, watch where you’re going!” Joe looks down to see the girl standing right in front of him. Now that he’s up close, he can see when people have been ogling at you since you’ve stepped foot on camp. You’re fucking gorgeous.

“Sorry, I just-”

“No, I’m sorry. The heat’s getting to me, my patience is weathering away.” Joe muttered an apology, scratching the back of his neck.

“It’s fine, that run has me exhausted too.” You smiled a little, making his heart skip a beat. Joe clears his throat once or twice before attempting to casually lean up against the counter.

“So, you’re the new chick, right?” Joe asked, just realizing how stupid that sounded when it left his mouth.

You nod, sighing as you extend your hand. “Haven’t seen any other girls wandering around, so yeah, sure. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Liebgott, Joe.” He shakes your hand. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. “Cigarette?”

“I don’t smoke, thanks though.” You kindly declined. Joe shrugs and lights his smoke.

“So, what brings you here?”

“What brings me to war? I want to fight for my country and show that a woman can do it just as good as any man.” You take a step closer as you speak. “But if you’re asking me why I came here to the-”

Joe mirrors your action, taking a step forward. You look a little taken aback when he does. You clear your throat as you look up at him, your faces inches away from each other. “Sorry, but can I please squeeze by you? I need to get to the salt.” You cough, looking down at your boots.

“Hm?” Joe cocks an eyebrow, turning around to see about a dozen salt and pepper shakers behind where he was just standing.

“That’s why I came to the counter… I needed some salt…” You meekly point to the shakers. “Whoever set the tables didn’t give us one.” You say with a simple tone, glancing up into his deep brown eyes. You feel your stomach fill with butterflies when you do, so you look at your fidgeting hands. He’s still so close.

Joe blinks, confused for a moment before he steps out of your way. You take the salt shaker and start making your way back to the tables. “It was nice talking with you, Liebgott.” And with a wave, you leave Joe standing there looking like a blushy fool.

“She was tryin’ to get fuckin’ salt?” Joe was kicking mentally himself. What the fuck was he thinking? That you were trying to make a move on him, so he meets you halfway? When all you really wanted was fucking salt?! Good one, Liebgott. Real fuckin’ smooth. Great first impression.

Joe looks to see you already back at your table, laughing at something George had said. Joe crosses his arms as he starts walking back to his seat with David.

“Hey Lieb-”

“Shut the fuck up for once, will ya Webster?”

2. The Party

The celebration was in full swing and the music could barely be heard above the cheering. Liebgott was chatting with Popeye and Talbert, drinking beers and laughing.

“So, Liebgott,” Tab slurred with a wolfish grin. “People have seen you gettin’ closer with Y/L/N.”

“Yeah,” Popeye smirked. “What’s all that about?”

You and Joe had gotten closer since you had met at that one lunchtime. He had learned that you were just a little shy, but once he started talking to you, you were a real hoot. The rest of the company learned that too over time. He had earned the title “Pretty Boy” (a pet name bestowed upon him by you, of course). That was another thing that the company had learned quickly. For some reason you, seemingly, favored Joseph David Liebgott.

Joe grins and shakes his head. “So I talk to her, what a scandal! C’mon, guys, so I hang out with the girl. What’s the matter with that?”

“Nothin’ it’s just- ” Tab trailed off and stared at something behind Joe. When Joe turned around, he saw you and Donald Malarkey go to the small open space at the front of the room and start to swing dance. He’s spinning you around and lifting you and your smiling and laughing. Joe feels his heart stutter at the sight, but something in his chest swells. He wanted to make you feel like that. Was he jealous? He would never admit it, but yeah, probably.

“Tab?” Joe turns to his friend. “Hold my beer.”

“Lieb-” Tab tries to say something but Joe is already on the move. By the time he reaches the pair, the song is coming to an end.

“Can I cut in?” Joe holds his hand out for you to take. You glance over at a now pouting Don, and him a sympathetic smile as you leave his arms and take Joe’s hand.

“I don’t know, can you?” You pull Joe out onto the floor.

“Smartass.” Joe tsks.

“You know, it’s not very polite to address a woman like that. You’re being a bit of an ass.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry ma’am.”

Just then, a slower paced song begins to play. Joe glances up to see Luz and Tab standing by the record player, Tab raising his beer in the air, mouthing “cheers” and Luz grinning the biggest grin Joe has ever seen. Joe rolls his eyes at the pair before places his right hand on your waist and takes your right hand in his left. You begin to sway to the music flowing from into the room.

“You’re hair looks good, Lieb.”

“Gee, thanks! I washed it.” Joe grins and he spins you and pulls you back to him.

“I didn’t take you for much of a dancer.” You observed with a smirk. “I saw you more as a ‘stand-in-the-corner-and-brood-with-a-beer’ kind of guy.”

“There’s still a lot you don’t know about me yet, sweets.” Joe shrugged.

“Joe Liebgott, full of surprises.”

“Tell me about it.” Joe nodded with a chuckle. “How’s your night so far?”

“I missed dancing. My older brother Stanley and I used to go dancing every Saturday.” Your face lit up at the mention of your brother. Joe smiles and nods.

“You gotta brother?”

“Two. I got my older brother Stanley and my younger brother Brian. Stan enlisted in the Navy and Brian’s only fourteen so he’s stuck at home with Mom. He’s probably bored out of his mind.”

“Navy, that’s impressive.” Joe remarked with a smirk. You nodded.

“He’s an impressive guy. Bull reminds me of Stan. Big guy. Looks like he could snap you in half but he’s a real sweetheart, ya know?” You laugh and Joe laughs along with you. Watching you laugh made Joe’s chest prickle with some kind of feeling. It made him pause, but he put it out of mind.

“Bet he scared off all your boyfriend’s that came knocking on your door, huh?” Liebgott gushed, not being able to stop himself. He felt his cheeks warm out of embarrassment for asking such a forward question so boldly, but you just seemed to laugh it off.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

You two danced for a few moments, swaying to the music in each others arms. You lean your cheek on his chest and Joe tenses for a moment.

“What about you?” You wonder out loud, your voice almost in a whisper.

“What about me?” Joe questions, glancing down at you. He noticed your head fit perfectly right under his chin. The thought made his lips twitch into a smile.

“You got a broad back home waiting for you to come home after all of this is over?” You bring your head up from his shoulder to look back at him, noses practically touching. You could feel Joe’s heart beating in his chest and he could feel yours. Joe shakes his head.

“Nope, just me.” Suddenly his confidence slowly leaves his body, his voice low and almost wavering. He was looking right back into your eyes, and he felt himself drowning. You were so close to him, he could smell your perfume. It was intoxicating.

His eyes slowly drifted down to your lips, which were painted a bright cherry red. You bit your bottom lip, your hand slowly snaking its way behind his neck.

“Lucky me…” You sigh as your eyes flutter closed.

Joe closes his eyes, he starts to lean in and-

scrEEEE

“TEN-HUT!”

The two of you leap apart from each other and stand at attention. Colonel Sink struts into the room with Major Strayer and Winters and Nixon off to the side. Joe sighs with a defeated look evident on his face. He glances over at you to catch you already looking at him. You quickly flick your gaze back to the Colonel.

Colonel Sink gives a short speech detailing how proud he was of the company.

“I want you to know that I’m damned proud of each and every one of you. However, I would like to take a moment to recognize Corporeal Y/N Y/L/N. You’ve shown just what it means to be a fine soldier and paratrooper, and you, m’dear, set the bar high for these men and for everyone that follows. You’re making history here. Congratulations, Corporeal.” The Colonel smiles down at you.

You feel yourself flush red as the who company starts to cheer your name and you salute Sink. “Thank you, Sir.”

He gives you a nod and turns his attention back to the crowd. “Now you deserve this party.”

Chuck comes up with a pint of beer for the Colonel, to which Sink thanks him.

“Now I want you to have fun, and remember our motto. Currahee!”

“Currahee!” The entire company shouts. And with that, the celebration resumes. Chuck and Popeye approach you with a pat on the back and a hugs.

“Congrats, Corporeal.” Popeye mimics Sink with a smirk. You laugh and give him a slap on the shoulder.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up now. I’ll be outranking you suckers by Christmas, just wait and see.” The group that had formed around you laughed. You glanced around the group and your eyes locked with Liebgott. He smiled as he gave you a quick once over before taking a sip of his beer. You smiled, your cheeks flushed a pink tint.

This was going to be a long war.

3. Normandy

To say that Joe was stressed about the jumps into Normandy would be an accurate assumption. To say that Joe was stressed about not being with you on the jump into Normandy would be an extreme understatement. He knew you would be fine (only because you reassured him before going your separate ways) but he couldn’t help it.

Neither of you have spoken about that night since it happened. If someone else tried to bring it up around you two, they would get shot down immediately and were told to drop the topic. He couldn’t tell if you never brought it up because you were embarrassed it happened and just wanted to forget about it, or for whatever reason. He tried not to think about it. Despite that, he could safely say that, by this point, you were one of his closest friends he had made on this journey thus far. And maybe he had deeper feelings than just friendship, but he didn’t have to tell anybody that. Ever.

When Liebgott got to the assembly area, you were nowhere to be found. A couple people from your plane had arrived, so all he could do is wait and he hope for the best. He sat on a dirt mound with Joe Toye and a couple others as they waited for instructions.

“Relax, Lieb. She’ll get here.” Toye tried to help his friend relax.

“What? Nah, I’m fine. I’m worried about the other guys too. They’ll get here, I know.” He muttered, trying to keep a cool composure. Toye scoffed.

“Whatever you say.”

His hopes only got higher as he saw a group of Easy men walk in.

“Ah, Easy Company.” He greeted, getting to his feet. After greeting his fellow E company men, as well as this Hall character from A company, we turned to sit back down. Then, his ears perked up.

“Pretty boy!” Joe heard you cheer from down the road. To your left was Bill Guenere, grinning like a cat as he watched you practically skipped to Liebgott.

“Glad you could finally make an appearance.” Joe teased as he engulfed you in a sweaty hug.

“You know me, always making an entrance and showing up fashionably late.” You giggled.

“Fashionably?” Joe reaches out and smudges the tar still on your face. You flinch and smack his hand away.

“Like you look so dapper yourself. What happened to your hair?” You reach out and ruffle his brown locks. He scrunches his nose and grabs your wrist and puts it back at your side.

“It’s called jumping out of plane, try it some time, sweetheart.” He sneered.

“Actually I just did, and I think I still look pretty good if I do say so myself. And I do say so.” You rebbuttled with a smirk.

“Y/N Y/L/N, cocky as ever.” He teased.

“Me? Cocky? Take a look in the mirror, you scruffy little-”

“Scruffy?! Fuck off!”

“You fuck off!”

“Love birds, please! Can we keep it moving? We have a war to fight and Nazis to kill. You’re bickering is disgustingly adorable, just get hitched already.” Bill announced, a grin plastered on his face as the fellow E company men started chuckling at the scene. He sauntered off, but not before shaking his head and muttering a “Jesus Christ”.

The two of you watched him go and take a glance at each other before you fall into a fit of giggles. He hooks his arm around her shoulders and guides her down the path.

“Got me worried there for a second. Thought a Kraut ate ya or somethin’.” Joe snickered as you gasped at him.

“A Kraut? Eat me?! Please, I’d shoot ‘em if they got within a hundred feet of me.” You groaned, a smile blooming onto your face.

Joe opened his mouth to respond when a boom echoed in the distance. Joe held you closer as he looked up to the sky. When he looked down, you were scanning the area with wide eyes. He squeezed your shoulder.

“You scared?” He asked in a lower tone, half joking, half serious. You flinched for a second, flicking your gaze to meet his. You nodded, not seeming confident.

“Liebgott, I just jumped out of an airplane and trekked eight kilometers through a warzone in the pitch dark. I fear nothing.” You stepped out of his grasp and turned to look at him. “You?”

“Never.” He replied, not really convinced by his own words. You nodded and let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Good.”

And with that, you turned and walked off to join Toye and Buck.

Joe watched you go, the sound of gunshots firing off in the distance. Suddenly, it was all very real to him. The honeymoon phase was over and it was time to get down to business. There was a good chance that they weren’t going to make it out of this alive, and that scared the shit out of him. But he couldn’t focus on that. Not now. So, he pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and put his fears in the back of his mind.

Joe couldn’t stand it in the back of the truck anymore. The stench made him wanna hurl. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Jesus! Get me outta here.” Joe hopped out from the back of the truck, hearing Sergeant Lipton yell something about “light discipline”, but Joe couldn’t get out of there faster.

He started walking down the street, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he passed dozens of soldiers. As he walked, he saw a silhouette leaning against a stone wall standing on the side of the road ahead. Without much thought, he knew it was you. As he approached you, he saw you picking at her nails, probably trying to get the dirt out from under them. Your helmet was by your feet, giving Joe a rare look at your hair shining in the moonlight.

“Evening, Miss.” Joe greeted, making your head turn to see him. Even in the dark, he saw the small smile appear on your face.

“Evening to you too, Mister.” You greeted as you adjusted your stance so you were standing a little taller, but still leaning against the wall.

“Want some company? You looked a little lonesome.” Joe stood in front of you now. You shrugged, glancing down at your shoes.

“Just in my thoughts is all.” That was the only thing you could muster. After all, it had been a long ass day.

“Penny for ‘em?” Joe moved to lean against the wall with you. You didn’t really say anything at first, you just kinda stared into space, but Joe nudged you with his elbow. “Oh c’mon, don’t go all shy on me now. It’s just me, you can talk to me. I’m your Pretty Boy, remember?” Joe teased, making you smile. God, he loved that smile.

“Joe Liebgott, what would I do without you?” You sighed.

“Enlighten me. What would you do? My curiosity is piqued.” Joe smirked, quirking an eyebrow at you.

“I’d probably be bored out of my mind.” You confessed, turning to look up at him. “You’ve kept me smiling through the whole time I’ve known you. Don’t get me wrong, I love Luz, he’s a crack up, but you’ve kept me on my toes.”

He creased his eyebrows.

“Corporeal, have you been drinking?” Joe asked, not really expecting such a genuine answer. You shook your head and rolled your eyes.

“Just take the compliment, Liebgott.” You groaned. He chuckled and nodded.

Just then, a car rumbled by, its headlights shining towards them as it drove by. With the passing flash of light, Joe noticed a cut on your right cheek.

“Woah, what happened?” Joe cupped your cheek and ran his thumb lightly over the wound.

“What? The scratch? It’s nothing.” You reached up to grab his wrist and pull it away, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Has Gene looked at it yet?”

“Lieb-”

“How’d you get that?”

“Lieb, really I’m fine-”

“It looks like it’s deep, you might need stitches. Here, I’ll take you to go see Doc-”

“Joe!” You grabbed his face, forcing him to look you in the eyes. “I’m fine. I already went to go see Doc, he said I was fine. It was just a graze from some shrapnel earlier today-”

“When the hell did you get hit with fucking shrapnel, Y/N?!” Joe shouted, the vain starting to pop out on his temple.

“I don’t fucking know, Lieb! I was trying to survive while I was being shot at by a bunch of Krauts! Shit happens.” Y/N snarled back. “And to be completely honest, it coulda been a whole lot fucking worse. This litte papercut compared to what happend to some of the guys today, so if you could stop yelling that would be fan-fucking-tastic.”

The two of you just sized each other up for a moment before Joe slouched against the wall and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry…you’re right.” He muttered, sounding exhausted.

“It’s alright,” You nod, looking straight ahead at the passing soldiers. “Never thought you cared so much…”

Joe scoffed at your words, shaking his head.

“‘Course I fuckin’ care.” Joe pulled you into him, wrapping his long arms around you, resting his chin on your head and engulfing you in a hug. You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your left cheek against his chest. He slowly started to pet your hair as you tighten your grip around his middle. “Maybe I care a little too much sometimes.” He muttered, not really meaning for you to hear. But of course you did.

You look up at him, a smile playing on your lips. “I care about you too, Joe.”

God dammit he couldn’t take it.

“Y/N, I gotta ask ya somethin’-”

“Easy Company! Get your gear, we’re moving out!” He heard an officer call out over the crowd. You groaned, burying your face in Joe’s chest.

“I gotta go grab my stuff, I’ll catch up with you?” You smiled sympathetically at Joe, who nodded.

“Yeah, sure. See ya.” Joe waved and watched you jog off to God knows where. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying not to scream. Instead, he banged his fist against the stone wall a little too hard.

“Fuck!” He cringed, shaking the pain out of his hand.

He was in deep shit.

4. Bastogne

It’s cold. So fucking cold that Joe thought his balls would freeze and fall off. Everyone in Easy was miserable, but after Colonel Sink’s visit, everyone seemed to be in semi lighter spirits. Joe surveyed the crowd, looking for his best friend, but he couldn’t see her.

“Hey Shift?” Joe turned to Shifty.

“Yeah, Joe?” Shifty looked over at Joe, tightly bundled from head to toe.

“You’ve seen Y/N?” Joe asked, taking another glance around. “Haven’t seen her since this morning.”

“Have you checked her foxhole?” Shifty queried.

“Of course I have.” Joe groaned, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It was the first place I looked.”

“Mess hall tent?” Shifty tried again.

“Tried there.”

“Is she on patrol?”

“No, checked with Lip about that a bit ago.”

After a pause, Shifty pointed through the trees with a gloved hand.

“Is she sitting on that log down that way?”

Joe turned around to see your from sitting on a log with your back to them. Joe nodded.

“Thanks Shift.” And without waiting for a response, Joe started trudging through the snow.

A lot has happened since Normandy. With time, you both got closer, if that was even possible. With that, you both bickered a lot. Replacements would come in and assume the two of you were a married couple that enlisted together. The funny thing was when they asked, the NCOs didn’t tell them otherwise.

You had opened up to him about life back home, too. You told him everything from you first pet’s name to your first heartbreak. You recounted painfully awkward Thanksgiving dinners the one time your brothers put Brian’s pet frog in your bed as a prank and how you jumped so high, you could have hit the ceiling. He enjoyed hearing about your life back home, but he thinks you’re doing it more for yourself rather than just for the sake of telling stories. It was one of the only ways it could keep you from flying off the rails.

Joe finally made his way over to you and plopped himself down on the log next to you.

“Y/N, where were ya? Sink just dropped by for a lovely visit, did ya hear him? Nuts!” Joe laughed, and bumped your shoulder.

When he looked over at you, you weren’t laughing. You weren’t even looking at him. Your gaze was fixed straight ahead, unblinking and blank. Your knees were brought up to your chin as you shivered in the cold.

“Sweetheart, you good?” Joe softened his tone, feeling the heavy silence in the air. It was almost suffocating when her expression remained the same. He moved to kneel in front of you and put his hands on top of your knees. “Y/N? What’s the matter, talk to me.”

You finally looked at him, eyes turning glassy. You swallowed thickly as you grabbed the opened envelope sitting by you on the log. You held it up and took a shaky breath.

“Letter from my mom.” Your voice cracked as you spoke and looked at the neat cursive handwriting on the front. Joe saw your lip began to quaver as you took a quick inhale. “My brother’s dead.” You handed Joe the envelope with a shaky hand.

“Jesus…” Joe took the envelope from you and examined it with darting eyes.

“He was in Micronesia somewhere. Peleliu or some shit like that…” You wiped a stray tear from your cheek and looked at your hands in your lap. “Killed in action.”

“Y/N I- fuck…I’m so sorry-”

“Merry fucking Chrismas, right?” You whispered. Then, you broke down. You head fell into your hands as you started to sob. Joe jumped up and held you.

“Shhh…hey you’re okay…” Joe muttered into your hair, rocking you back and forth as you cried into his coat. He felt your hands grip at his jacket in tight fists, clinging to him. He didn’t really know what to do, he’s never seen you cry before. Not even when you rolled your ankle while running Currahee in Toccoa and you still made it back down the hill. You never cried.

After a couple of minutes, you calmed down and you were reduced to whimpers. Joe pulled away and wiped his thumbs across your wet cheeks. Your scratch from Normandy and had scarred over now.

You leaned forward and pressed your forehead to his, you eyes screwed shut.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t apologize. Never fuckin’ say sorry for something like that.” Joe snapped back sternly. You nodded.

“Okay.”

You opened your eyes to look at Joe staring back at you with a gentle intensity. His hands still cupped your cheeks and held you close. Joe glanced at your lips before licking his dry ones. Despite being chapped and swollen from crying, you still looked just as beautiful that night you were all dressed up for the party. And he wanted to kiss you even more now than he did then.

“Y/L/N, you okay?” Malarkey had just happen to walk by the scene in front of him, his can of food in hand. You pulled your head from Lieb’s hands, sighing. Joe’s hands drop to his lap with a loud smack.

“Yeah, fine.” You smiled tightly, turning to Malarky.

“You sure? You don’t look too good. Maybe go and grab some hot chow?-”

“On it, Malark.” You cut him off, followed by a curt nod. Malarkey turned his hands up in surrender and walked off to join Muck and Penkala.

You grab the letter off the snowy ground and stuff it in your pocket.

“I’m goin’ for a walk, I’ll catch ya later, Lieb.” You muttered quickly before standing.

“I’ll go with you-”

“No that’s fine, Joe. Go grab some lunch, I’ll be back.” Just like that, you zipped off into the fog without another word or a glance back.

Later that night, he walked past your foxhole on the way back from taking a piss. And there you were, wrapped up in a blanket, shivering, with a cigarette hanging from your mouth.

“Thought you didn’t smoke.” He whispered, not wishing to startle you or disturb other foxholes. You look up at him from your hole and shrugged as you took the cigarette from your lips and blew out a stream of smoke.

“I don’t.” You said simply. Joe nodded.

“You gonna be okay?”

“…I will be.” You assured him.

Suddenly BOOM! German artillery started bursting in the sky. Joe jumped into your foxhole with you as you both tried to shield yourself from any shrapnel. The blasts were short lived and soon they were given the all clear. Joe looks over at you as he moves to get to his feet.

“Thanks for your hospitality.” He said with a little laugh. “I guess I’ll see you-”

“Joe?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay with me. Please.” Your voice was so soft and meek, it surprised Joe. Your eyes were pleading. “Just for the night.”

“Yeah, of course.” Joe nodded, laying back down on the dirt.

“Thank you.” You whispered before you cuddled into Joe’s chest.

Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly to him. He fell asleep almost instantaneously.

However, when he woke up in the morning, you were gone.

5. The Truck Ride

You didn’t talk to Joe a lot after that. You really didn’t talk to anybody after that. After you got news of your brother, you really didn’t want to talk to anybody. With Joe, you wanted to talk to him, but you were afraid to because after that night, you were so afraid because you might have been falling for the guy. So, you kept your distance the rest of your time in Bastogne, and barely spared him a glance while Easy was up in Haguenau. He really could have used your company then, Webster was being a real pain in the ass. You finally started talking to him again in the back of the trucks on your way to Bavaria.

“Can I have one of those?” You croaked as Lieb lit a cigarette.

“So she speaks? You finally talkin’ to me now?” Joe sneered with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, smoke billowing from his lips.

“Joe-”

“You barely spoken a word to me since Christmas and, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, it’s April now and the first thing you say to me is you ask me for a cigarette?”

“It’s a start, isn’t it?” You mutter, not breaking eye contact with the seething eyes piercing back at you. “Look I’m sorry, I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

“The nerve on you-”

“Quit soundin’ like my mother, Joe. My brother died and suddenly you get all butt hurt when I needed some goddamn space for two fucking seconds. I apologized, now can I or can I not have a cigarette?”

Joe looked at you for a moment. Your eyes had lost some luster he remembers you having a long time ago. Your eyes are sunken like you haven’t slept since Normandy. Even your hair had lost the brightness in color. He sighed as he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a cigarette.

“I don’t know, can you?” He says with the slightest hint of a smile creeping onto his face. He hands you the cigarette. You take it and put it in your mouth and lean forward, looking expectantly at Joe. “Oh, you want me to light it for you too, your majesty?”

“Mhmm.” You hum with a nod of your head and a roll of Joe’s eyes as he pulls out his Zippo.

“I have to do everything in this fucking relationship-”

“Shut up.” You laugh as you pull the lit cigarette from your mouth and blow smoke in his face. He smirked at you, waving a hand in front of his face.

“You know, it’s not very polite to blow smoke in someone’s face. You’re being a bit of an ass.”

You smiled and shook your head in disbelief. “Deja vu.”

“Tell me about it.” Joe smiled back.

After a moment of silence, David decided to pipe up.

“What about you, Y/N?” Webster asked.

“What about me?”

“What are you gonna do when you get home?” Webster took a bite his food as he awaited for your answer. You ran a hand through your hair as it flowed in the breeze.

“Home? Jeez, I don’t know. Hug my family?” You laughed.

“We’re all gonna do that. I mean life stuff. Got any plans?”

“Well,” you paused, thinking about it for a second. You haven’t given it much thought lately. “I’d start off by getting a job. Maybe waitressing or something like that, that’s what I did before the war. Then,” you paused, glancing up at Joe, who was already staring at you with some kind of look in his eyes. You couldn’t look away.

“Then I’d probably find someone to settle down with. Have a kid or two, and try to have a normal fucking life that is far away from this shithole. Try and be happy.” You finished but taking a drag.

“That’s a good goal.”

“Gee, thanks Web.” You muttered sarcastically.

“That sounds real nice.” Joe said, a soft smile appearing on his lips. You nodded.

“Sure does.”

After making a stop, the seating got switched up. Now you were sitting next to Joe, his arm around you as you fell asleep on his shoulder. Joe looked down at you, warmth spreading in his chest for the first time in a long time. You were back, and you looked so peaceful.

“Jesus, Lieb, just kiss her already.” Web laughed across from Joe.

“You’re lookin’ at her with the biggest heart eyes I’ve ever seen.” Luz chuckled. “Are you ever gonna tell her how you feel?”

“Will you both shut up?!” Joe spoke between his teeth. “She could wake up and hear you knuckleheads.”

“Lieb, she’s knocked out cold.” Perconte observed from down the row.

“Can you blame her??” Joe asked, his voice suddenly sorrowful. The boys glanced at you. They had to admit, they haven’t seen you actually sleep since you found out about Stan.

The car goes over a rather large bump in the road, waking you up with a start.

“Morning, Sunshine! How was your nap?” Luz drawled throwing his baseball in the air. You yawned and lay back against Joe.

“Fine. I had a dream about you, Pretty Boy.” You muttered, closing your eyes again.

“Oh did you now?!” Luz exclaimed, throwing Joe a knowing look and smirk.

“Pray tell.” Web piped in.

“Well,” You put your chin on Joe’s shoulder and turned to face him. “You, sir,” you poked his cheek. “Were going on and on and on about something beyond boring when I up and punched you square in the jaw. And even in my dreams, you don’t change a bit, because even after I hit you, you would not shut the hell up!”

This made the entire car laugh, even Joe. When he turned his head to you, he bumped his nose with yours.

“Sorry.” He murmured, pulling his head back a little. You shrugged.

“It’s okay.” and in a brave moment, you leaned forward and rubbed the tip of your nose to his in an eskimo kiss. “G’night.” and with that, you fell against his shoulder and started to snore. Everyone in the car was staring at him with wide eyes and hanging mouths. Joe could only shrug.

Easy Company had decided to play a company baseball game. It was a warm day, partially cloudy. It was perfect.

“I wanna play!” You squealed. Buck arched a brow at you.

“You know how?”

You scoffed and grabbed a glove out of the box next to the batting cage. “Buck, I grew up the middle child of two boys. Yes, I know how to play.”

“Alright, play ball then, I guess.” He laughed, his chest rumbling.

After playing for a few hours, hitting a line drive and throwing a couple guys out, they jokingly declared you Easy Company’s Rookie of the Year. The peace was disturbed by Speirs.

“Easy Company! School circle!”

As the company gathered around Major Winters, Liebgott pulled you under his arm and you wrapped an arm around his middle.

“You never told me you played ball so well.” He said barely above a whisper. You snickered and leaned up to whisper in his ear.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Liebgott.”

“Touché.”

“Listen up!” Winters announced, glancing at the two of you with a small smile. “We’ve got some news. This morning, President Truman received the unconditional surrender from the Japanese. The war is over.”

You felt like the air had been punched out of your lungs. For a couple moments no one moved, probably afraid that if they did, they would wake up from this crazy dream we all must be having. You laughed a little and looked up at Joe. He smiled and nodded.

“We did it.” He grinned.

“Yeah we did!” You responded. Soon, the men started to disperse. You however, jumped into Joe’s arms and wrapped your legs around his torso as he held you up.

“We made it!” You squealed. Joe laughed and put you down.

“I knew we would.”

Before he could say anything else, you grabbed his face and smashed your lips onto his. He responded immediately by cradling the back of your head and holding you as close as possible. You could hear cheering from the men around you.

“Fuckin’ finally!”

“It’s about time.”

“We’ve only waited three damn’ years for that to happen.”

“I don’t know if I’m more relieved that the war is over or that their finally sucking faces.”

“Yes! Hey Bull, you owe me thirty bucks!”

When you broke apart, Joe was panting with the biggest smile you have ever seen on his face.

“Come back home to San Francisco with me? We could make that dream of yours happen.”

“The one where I punch you in the face?” Your face scrunched up in confusion.

“No, dufus,” he laughed as he cupped your cheeks. “Settle down, fall in love, get hitched.” He kissed the tip of your nose.

“Well I’m already in love with you, so you can check that off your list.” You grinned.

“God, I love you Y/N. Never leave my side.”

“I don’t plan on it. C’mon, let’s get home.”

Taglist:

@gottapenny

#band of brothers #band of brothers imagine #bob #bob imagine #imagine #request #anon #joe liebgott #joe liebgott imagine #joseph liebgott #joseph liebgott imagine #liebgott #liebgott imagine #slowburn #slow burn

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ruthoakenshield · 4 years ago

Text

The Lady in Black Leather (chapter 5

The Lady in Black Leather (chapter 4)

When you get out of the truck, you glance over to the car and see Graham in the driver’s seat. He waves you over and you walk over to see what he wants.

“Aiden is too hammered to drive so Scarlett asked me to come pick you up and bring you to the apartment.” He tells you.

“Oh, ok.” You reply and walk around the black Jaguar, letting your fingers gently trace the hood. You caress the Jaguar ornament and then climb in the front seat. “Buckle up.” He says and you do.

He pulls away from the curb and heads off. “You look at him confused. Where are we going? I thought you were taking me to Aiden’s apartment.”

He smirks. “They are all at Richard’s right now. He’s having a party and so that’s where we are goin.”

You groan. “Graham!”

He just chuckles and pats your leg. “Don’t worry, Lass. You’ll be fine. Did ya go look at that apartment?” he asks as he switches lanes and topics.

“Yeah, I liked it. It’s right across the hall from the owners. I met the wife, she’s an adorable Irish lady and is really nice. She told me how much it was for rent, but I have to sit down and figure out all my bills to see if it is something that I’m gonna be able to afford in the long run. It’s a bit more expensive than my old apartment, so I don’t know.” You tell him.

He nods. “Well if it means keeping you safe, I’d say the difference in the rent would be worth it.” He tells you. “We can always help you out if ya have trouble swinging the full amount for the rent, Lass.” He reminds you.

You sigh and look out the window. “I know, but I would rather not have to be so dependent on others. I’ve been let down too many times and need to be able to know I can make it on my own in this world.” You say quietly.

He glances over at you and then looks back at the road.

“Have ya thought any more about what I said about gettin’ a guard dog to protect you?” he asks.

You nod. “Yeah. The lady at the apartment said that she would have to ask her husband if he would be okay allowing it. I’d have to pay a pet deposit in case there’s any damages it causes, and I’d have to consider food, vet bills, training, and yeah. It’s a lot of extra expenses, so I don’t know right now. I just started this job, and have been on disability after spending 3 months recovering from major surgery, so I will just have to see how things go.” You reply.

Graham looks surprised when you mention being on disability and the surgery. “Do ya mind me askin’ what ya had surgery on that it took three months to recover from?” he asks.

You are quiet for a minute then sigh, “I had to have a hysterectomy, I had a tumor growing in my womb that was taking up all the room and was causing a lot of pain and health problems for me. My doctor told me that either way, I’d never be able to have kids. So, I had the surgery to remove my womb so the health problems would stop being such an issue; and so yeah, now I’m ‘damaged goods’ as my ex calls me and not good for anything besides being a guy’s fuck toy.” You say quietly as you stare out the window.

Graham frowns when he hears your last comment. He slows down and pulls off to the side of the road. You look at him confused.

He puts the car in park and turns to you, and takes your face in his hands, “Sweetheart, I don’t know what kind of things your asshole ex said to you, but let me assure you, you are NOT damaged goods!

You are beautiful, sexy, and drop dead gorgeous. You are kind and compassionate, helpful and funny. There are many men who could care less that you can’t have kids. There are some that would find that a relief and embrace it with joy.

And if you decide you do want kids in the future, you can always adopt some. There is more to you than your ability to bear children. So, don’t ever, ever let anyone tell you that you are worthless, incomplete, or damaged goods because of your surgery, all right?” he tells you.

“You have more value than some asshole’s fuck toy. You are a beautiful, woman with a kind heart and a witty mind, and any man in his right mind would love to have you as his woman. You are more than what you give yourself credit for!”

You look at him stunned with tears trickling down your cheeks. “I… I…” you don’t know what to say to that. You lower your gaze. He caresses your face wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

“Lass, men like your ex, they either don’t understand the power of their words. They don’t understand how deeply those hurtful words can cut and how long lasting those wounds end up being, and how they taint the minds of those who they direct their words at… Or they do understand it, and use it to hurt others and lord themselves over others by trying to keep them torn down and in submission.

Don’t ever, ever believe what he told you about who you are and how you are or are not valued. Not for an instant. You… are… a … treasure! And the right guy will see it and treat you as if you were the only thing that mattered to him!” He tells you adamantly.

“Lass. Now you said back in the bookstore that your ex is on the loose again, I think we need to seriously consider getting you that dog.” He tells you. “At least you would have someone to watch your back and warn you if he shows up.” He tells you as he lets go of your face to pull some loose strands of hair out of your face.

You cry for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry, I’m just so scared. I feel and look like a totally worthless mess to anyone right now, I don’t deserve your kind words. Look at me! I’m not fit for going to a party to socialize.” You squeak out.

Graham chuckles, and hands you some tissues from the glove box. “Here.” He says as he lays them in your lap. He puts his hand on the back of your head and says, “Lass, you are deserving of my kind words, because they are the truth. You have been torn down by someone who is not fit to breathe, and the more you hear these kind words, the more you will be able to heal from the verbal abuse and lies he berated you with.”

As you dry your eyes and try to clean up your running mascara, and blow your nose, Graham says, “Lass. When you were shopping with Scarlett and I bumped into you, I was stunned. I’ve never seen hair so long and shiny on such a pretty head. You got my heart a racin, like I was a teen again.” He tells you.

You look at him in disbelief, and seeing him grinning mischievously, you giggle. “Really?”

He nods. “Even now, red eyes and all, you’re still pretty.” He says as he runs his hand along your hair, pulling stray strands from your face again, then grins.

“And yes, I enjoyed your little fashion show the other day. You have a wonderful body and are very pretty. You seemed confident and strutted like you were having the time of your life when you were shopping with Scarlett and also at the bar. You turned quite a few heads at The Squawking Raven’s that night… and not just Richard’s… Martin even said, “Hot Damn!” when he saw you!!! And it was in front of his wife! Luckily she laughed it off.” He tells you giggling. “You should’ve seen it!”

You look at him surprised.

“But, Sweetheart, believe me, there were all kinds of men checking you out that night. I had a clear shot of the whole bar from where I was standing. There wasn’t a guy in there who didn’t glance at you and your friend with hungry and appreciative eyes.” He tells you as he runs his hand through your hair once more.

“You have a unique kind of beauty. One which is on the inside that radiates out and highlights the outer beauty even more. Martin’s wife could even see it, and paid you a very high compliment! Which says a lot, because she doesn’t give them out freely very often!” he tells you.

“I know Scarlett implied you had a rough time with dating and men in the past, but Richard is the best thing that could happen to you, sweetheart. He cares about you immensely and hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you since he first laid eyes on you in the bar last night.

He is shy and sometimes is awkward when he gets nervous, but he has had his fair share of self-doubt about his looks too. He reacts to compliments about his looks the same way you do. Just be open to his actions and words, because they are genuine and from the heart when he says them. He is not one to say things lightly. It’s not like he’s asking to marry you right away!” He says with a laugh, earning a small smile from you.

“Just give him a chance, ok? I promise he will take good care of you if you let him. He isn’t like the other guys you’ve been with according to Scarlett. He won’t hurt you or take advantage of you, and he’ll want to pummel anyone who does.” Graham says with another laugh.

You chuckle. “Thanks Graham.” You say quietly. He nods and turns back to put the car in gear and pulls back out onto the freeway.

You’re both quiet for the rest of the trip, lost in your own thoughts. You arrive at Richard’s place and are surprised by how modest it is for an actor. It’s not lavish like Aiden’s is.

Graham parks his Jaguar and then comes around to help you out. He leads you up to the door and opens it for you. You enter to the sound of laughter and music playing. You shyly hang back and wait for Graham to enter.

He chuckles and nudges you to go into the room. You step in and hear a loud and very drunk Aiden holler, “Harley!!!!” making you smile and laugh as he almost falls out of his chair. You look around at all the people in the room. There are some you recognize and others you don’t’ know. You feel Graham’s warm hand on your back leading you towards the group.

He introduces you to the people at the party that you don’t know, and you observe their faces and reactions. You see what he meant when he says they look at you hungrily, but notice it’s not in a lecherous way… mostly… it’s more in appreciation than anything.

He works his way introducing you to people as he heads for the kitchen with you. “Come on, Lass let’s get you some food and drink.” He tells you.

You stop dead in your tracks when you see Richard with an apron on, mixing a bowl of some kind of chocolate batter. He has a finger in his mouth, sucking off the batter when he turns and sees you. His eyes light up and he gets a huge smile on his face. He sets down the bowl, washes his hands, then comes over to you.

You feel Graham’s hand leave your back and he moves to get food, leaving you to talk with Richard.

“You came.” He says quietly as he reaches out tentatively to touch your elbows.

“I kind of got tricked into it.” You admit. “Scarlett said they’d come get me from work, then Graham shows up saying Aid was too drunk to drive so he came and got me. He didn’t mention the party till I noticed we weren’t heading to Aiden’s.” you tell him shyly.

Richard chuckles. “I’m glad you came anyway.” He says as he cups your face with his right hand. “Have you eaten?” he asks.

You shake your head, “No, haven’t had much of an appetite after the news I got during lunch. Just ended up munching on my fries and chocolate shake.” You say as you look at his chest, unwilling to look up at his face.

He looks down at you concerned, then over to Graham. Richard hums, “We’ll talk about that in a while. For now, you need to eat, Sweetheart, even if you don’t feel like it.” He tells you gently. “We have a feast, so eat what you want.” He urges as he brings you to the kitchen and dining tables filled with all kinds of food. Your mouth begins to water. You nod, set your backpack in the corner and start putting food on your plate.

As you fill your plate Graham comes round to talk with Richard. “Her ex sure did a number on her, Rich. Be patient with her. She has a lot of wounds that can’t be seen from the outside.” He tells him.

Rich nods.

“Rich, they let her ex out on bail. She’s absolutely terrified he’s gonna find her and do what he threatened to. He told her she’s only good for one thing…” he tells Rich.

Rich looks at him with a look something between pissed and concerned. “And what is that?” he asks quietly.

Graham glances back to see where you are at. “He called her ‘damaged goods’ because of the surgery she had to have, and told her she is only good for a ‘fuck toy’ now.

I had a talk with her on the way back and tried to tell her that she is NOT damaged goods and has much more value than just a fuck toy. But just take it slow with her, man. She has a LOT on her plate right now and is feeling incredibly insecure and sees herself as trash because of how he treated her.” He quietly informs Rich.

Rich is trying to remain calm, watching you fill your plate with food; but Graham sees his fists are clenched and his knuckles are white. Rich has his jaw clenched and Graham could hear him grinding his teeth. He realizes Rich is pissed and desperately trying not to blow up in front of everyone, especially you.

“Rich, go do what you need to do to go calm down… where she won’t see or hear it.” I’ll keep her company till you get back.” He tells his friend, patting his shoulder and nudging him towards the basement door.

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

Rich nods takes his apron off, and quietly goes down to the basement and starts pummeling his punching bag and growling and shouting. Taking out his frustration out on it.

After a while, Lee Pace comes down to see where his friend went. He sees Richard red faced and punching his punching bag furiously.

Lee stands there for a moment watching him. When Richard takes a break, Lee clears his throat to get Richard’s attention. Richard looks up and sighs, his shoulders slumping.

Lee comes down the stairs and looks at his friend. “What’s the matter Rich? You’re having a party and you’re down here pissed. What happened?” he says as he holds out a glass of beer to Richard, who shakes his head, not wanting it.

“Graham just informed me that the shithead ex of Harley’s got released from jail. Some shithead posted bail to get him out and Harley is positive he won’t abide by the restraining order. He really did a number on her verbally and psychologically.

She had to have some kind of surgery that required several months to recover from, and he got upset about her needing to have it. Scarlett and Graham both said he called her all kinds of filthy names and now she feels like worthless trash and damaged goods.” He sighs and rubs his face.

Lee frowns. “And let me guess, you want to date her?” he asks.

Richard nods. “She has an inner beauty that just shines out of her. I can’t resist it. You should’ve seen her at the bar, Lee. She was confident, relaxed, happy and just beamed. Scarlett had taken her shopping, and got her to have her hair and makeup done. She was looking and feeling so confident and looked so sexy in what she wore! Now she is terrified and scared her ex will come after her and do what he threatened to do to her…” Rich says trailing off.

I want to just pummel that asshole for how he treated her and warped how she feels about herself. I don’t know what to do, Lee. I want to help her see herself as the beautiful woman she is inside and out, but I don’t know how.” He says, frustrated, punching the bag again.

Lee leans against the wall for a moment thinking. Let me think about it while we rejoin the party, you’ve beaten the punching bag enough for now. You don’t want to be gone too long, Rich or the party will migrate down here.” He teases. “Come on, let’s head back up. For now, just make sure she feels welcome and safe.” He tells his friend.

Rich nods and starts to head back up the stairs. Lee following him.

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

You make your way around the table placing a variety of enticing foods onto your plate. There was more food there than you’ve ever seen at a single party… and it all looked amazing.

You came back around and looked at Graham confused.

He grinned, “He had to go take care of something, Lass. He’ll be back in a bit.” He tells you. “Do ya want anythin’ to drink?” he asks.

You sigh. “I suppose he doesn’t have any Jameson, does he?”

Graham’s eyebrows shoot up. “Jameson?” he asks surprised.

“Yeah, or any whiskey, for that matter.” You reply. “I need a good, stiff drink.” You say with a grin.

“Well, I have a bottle of Scotch whiskey in the freezer chilling if that’ll work for ya.” he tells you.

You nod.

He pulls out the bottle and grabs a whiskey glass. He looks at you and asks, “How do you want it?”

You reply, “Straight.”

His eyes go wide, he nods and pours you about a shot’s worth. “Here, see if you like it before I pour you a whole glass.”

You take it and down it in two gulps, not even sputtering as it burns its way down your throat.

You hand him the glass and grin. He does too and asks if you with a devilish grin if you want some ice. You smirk and nod. Remembering your conversation from the bar the other night.

He puts some ice in the glass and pours it full for you. You go to take it, but he pulls it away. “Eat some, before ya have any more to drink, Lass. This is a bit stronger than that Jameson stuff yer used to.” He tells you.

You pout and eat a couple sandwiches and some fruit. He grins and gives you the glass. “Make it last though, no gulping it down! Ya only get one of these buggers.” he says with a wink.

You sigh and oblige the bald man.

After a bit, you clear your plate of food and your tummy is happily full and you’re sipping on your Scotch Whiskey, when Richard comes up with Lee from the basement. You and Graham are on the far side of the living room watching some of the guests trying to play the game called ‘Twister’ and are laughing at the compromising positions they get into. Richard notices you took your trench coat off and it is draped over a chair in the kitchen by your backpack.

You don’t see them come up from the basement door and Richard just stops and watches you as you laugh at Aiden as he falls over and is deemed ‘out’ by the rest of the group. Lee smiles at the look on your face and understands what Richard had meant when he said you just beamed when you were happy. He nudges Richard to move along the wall over to you.

“Just keep her company and be supportive and kind, Rich.” He whispers in his friend’s ear, then moves off to observe the antics of the people playing the game from the other side of the room.

Richard comes up behind you and is mesmerized by your long hair. You have it in a fish tail braid that reaches just past your waistline. His fingers itch to run through it and feel it’s softness.

He comes up behind you and gently puts his hand on your shoulder. You startle a little and look up at him, but his loving smile disarms you instantly. “Hi.” You say. “Where’d you go?” you ask.

He clears his throat. “Had to take care of something in the basement.” He says. “Are you enjoying watching the game?” he asks as he brings his hand down your hair to your midback.

You laugh and nod. “It’s funny to watch. I remember playing it as a little girl with my friends. I think it’s more fun now to watch, especially with people drinking.” You giggle as Scarlett gets in a very compromising position with Orlando, who is doing his best to get her to laugh and fall over.

Richard smiles. “You feeling better?” he asks after a while. You nod. “Food and whiskey.” You say with a grin.

He leans down and gives your glass a sniff. “Is that the Scotch Whiskey Graham brought over?” he asks. You nod. “Yup.”

Rich frowns. “How many have you had, Love?” he asks.

You reply, “He gave me a shot to see if I’d like it, and then this glass, but it has ice in it, so it’s kinda watering it down the longer I let it sit. He told me I couldn’t down it all in one go. I have to nurse it cuz I only get one glass of it.” You tell him.

Rich grins and nods. “Good.” He says as you turn back to watching the antics with the game. He stands behind you and puts his hands on your hips and gently pulls you to lean against him. Which you don’t seem to mind doing.

Once the game finishes, someone decides to take out the karaoke machine and hooks it up to the surround sound system. Richard groans and puts a hand up to his face…and you start laughing.

“What’s the matter, Rich, not up for karaoke?” Someone teases. He just chuckles and tells them to have at it, but not to turn the music up any higher. “I don’t need the cops called on us.” he tells them.

The two of you work your way to the side wall by the stairwell where you can watch his friends sing and dance to the music.

You finish your glass of whiskey and start sucking on the ice till it’s small enough to chew on.

Richard cringes when he hears you chewing the ice. “You realize how bad that is for your teeth?” he asks.

You nod. “I like how it feels.” You say. “I’ve chewed on ice since I was a kid. My dentist says my teeth are fine.” You tell him as you pop another ice cube into your mouth and suck on it.

He leans down and asks, “I have other things you can suck on instead of ice, if you want.”

You look up at him and raise an eyebrow, wondering what exactly he is referring to and if he meant the innuendo or not.

He takes your hand and pulls you into the kitchen. He opens the freezer and points to the popsicles and the ice cream cones coated in chocolate and chopped peanuts.

Your eyes light up and you grab the box of popsicles. You dig around till you find a cherry one. You giggle with delight and hand him the box back. He is grinning at your antics and puts the box back in the freezer and closes the door.

“Oh my gosh! I haven’t had a popsicle since I was a little kid! These were my favourites! I’d eat all the cherry and grape ones and leave the orange ones for my parents!” you giggle as you tear it open and pop it in your mouth. Your eyes close and you make a little happy noise.

Richard moves back to lean against the counter in the kitchen by the sink and is watching you. He is trying desperately not to let his mind go in the gutter. But you are making it SO damn easy to do. He watches your eyes close as you pop it into your mouth and twirl your tongue around the top of the cherry popsicle.

The little happy noises you are making cause him to grin and he can feel himself getting hard. He is wondering now if this was such a good idea. The more he watches you enjoying the popsicle, the more he wants your lips someplace else on him.

He groans quietly and rubs his face. Graham comes walking in to grab another beer and sees you eating the popsicle. He stares for a moment, and Rich can tell the instant his brain goes in the gutter. He looks up at Rich with a raised eyebrow and an evil smirk. He opens his mouth to say something and Richard gives him a glare and shakes his head. Gram winks, and closes his mouth. He grabs the beer from the fridge and walks over to him.

Cracking open the beer, he leans against the sink next to Rich. “What were ya thinkin’ giving her an iced lolly?” he whispers.

Richard shrugs, “Thought it’d be better than hearing her chew on ice cubes… but now I’m thinking the ice cubes were the better option.” He whispers back.

By now you are completely oblivious to the indecent thoughts the two are having while watching you enjoying the popsicle. By the time you finish it, they are both uncomfortably hard and luckily Rich’s apron is covering it, so it isn’t noticeable.

Graham on the other hand, is struggling. Rich is giggling and teases him quietly and suggests he head to the rest room to ‘take care of it’. Graham groans and nods.

Rich realizes he left the chocolate batter on the counter when you came in and turns to pour it into the muffin cups. You stand there in the kitchen and watch him, and admire his lovely ass as he works.

“What are you making?” you finally ask, when you see him pouring the batter into the muffin cups.

“Chocolate cupcakes, I believe you call them.” He replies as he opens the oven and bends to put the pan in to bake. He sets the timer and turns to look at you. Your cheeks are rosy and your ears and neck are pink.

He grins and comes over to check on you. “You feelin’ all right, Love?” he asks. You nod, “Just a little warm… must be the whiskey.” You reply sheepishly.

“Mmmmmhmmm.” Richard says with a raised eyebrow and his panty melting smirk. “Something tells me you were enjoying the view.” He teases, making you blush even more.

You duck your head and squirm under his gaze.

He chuckles, “It’s okay, Love.” He says and pulls you in for a hug, making you squeak in surprise.

You giggle when ‘Pretty Woman’ comes on and Richard starts to sing it quietly to you while he holds you in the hug and sways from side to side a little.

He holds you like that till the song ends and there is a roar of laughter from the living room.

“I don’t even want to know who was performing that one in there.” He mumbles rubbing his face.

“I much preferred your version.” You giggle. He looks down at you and smiles. He plants a kiss to the top of your head.

You take your whiskey glass from off the counter and pop the last ice cube in your mouth and suck on it. Richard rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Little Ice monster you are!” he says, “What am I to do with you?” he teases.

“Well, I can think of a few things.” You tease. And stick the ice out of your lips then suck it back in.

You see his eyes open wide and dilate and he takes a couple steps over to you. He hesitantly takes you in his arms and leans down to give you a tentative kiss. You allow him to, remembering Graham’s words, ‘to give Richard a chance’.

He is gentle with you and gives you light kisses. You smile and stick the ice between your lips and tease his with it. He grins and takes it in his teeth as he kisses you and tugs it out of your mouth and traces your lips with it then drops it into his mouth.

Your eyes get huge. “Hey, give that back!” you tell him.

He smirks, “Come get it.” He says in a husky voice and rolls it around on his tongue to tease you. You reach up and tug his head down and your lips crash into his. Your tongue prodding his lips to part and give you back your ice cube.

He chuckles, wraps his arms around your waist and lets you part his lips with your tongue only to find his teeth clamped shut. He is grinning at your frustration. You tease his lips and then start to move down his neck with kisses and your fingers gently scratch the back of his scalp as you drag your fingers through his hair.

He closes his eyes for a moment enjoying the feeling. Then he brings your head back up to his and kisses you soundly, tasting the cherry popsicle on your tongue and slipping the ice chip back into your mouth as the two of you bat it back and forth with your tongues until it completely melts.

You pull back when you need air and look up at him dazed. He grins and tells you. “I like that game with the ice chip. What shall we call it?” he asks you with his lopsided grin.

You shrug, “Don’t know…Ice hockey?” you ask. He smirks. “Perhaps… or maybe just ‘Pass the ice?’ ”

You both bust up laughing then Graham comes walking in. “What’s so funny, you two?” he asks with a raised eyebrow when he sees you both laughing and have red lips and chins.

You look at Richard with a huge grin and reply, “Ice hockey.” Which makes Richard bust up laughing again and sends you into a fit of giggles.

Graham looks at the two of you confused. He goes to retrieve his beer from the kitchen counter where he had left it, then turns and says, “No more whiskey for you, Lass.” And heads out into the living room.

The two of you are still in a fit of giggles when Martin comes in looking for the alcohol. He takes one look at you and comes over.

“Ahhh, if it isn’t the mysterious lady in black leather who enraptured my dear friend, Richard! I’m sorry I didn’t have the pleasure of meeting you the other night at the bar. I’m Martin.” he tells you as he takes your hand and kisses the top of it.

You giggle and tell him, “I’m Harley, nice to meet you Martin.” You reply and lean against Richard still giggling about the ice hockey game.

“What has you two giggling in here when the party is out in the living room?” he asks. You look up at Richard who is trying to keep it together. You look back to Martin and say with a completely deadpanned face, “Ice Hockey”…. Which sets Richard into another fit of giggles.

Martin quirks an eyebrow. You lean into him and say, “You should try it with your lady friend who was with you at the bar sometime when she starts kissing you.” And you lean back and wink.

He doesn’t get your drift at first then you go to the freezer and pick out an ice cube and pop it in your mouth, then you turn to him, and stick it out of your lips, hold it between your teeth and give it a wiggle with your tongue then suck it back in your mouth.

Martin’s eyes get huge and he looks between you and Richard, who has turned his back to you both still giggling and trying to regain his composure. You raise your eyebrows and Martin chuckles and says, “I might just have to try that! Thanks for the suggestion!” he says with a smirk and a wink.

You close the freezer door and then open it again and grab a handful of ice and go put it in your cup. You go back and dig around in the freezer and find a bottle of Jameson someone hid and pour yourself a glass. Then put it back.

Martin chuckles and asks if you like strong drinks. You nod. He asks if you tried Graham’s Whiskey and you nod. “He said I could only have one glass though, but he didn’t say I couldn’t have my wonderful Jameson…” you giggle.

Martin chuckles again and turns to Richard who finally regains his composure and turns to face you. Richard turns just as you were pouring the Jameson and gives you a look with a raised eyebrow. You smirk and Martin says, “I like this one, she can come party with us any time you care to bring her with!”

When Richard saw you take a drink of the Jameson and stuck the ice cube from your mouth out of your lips at him, he knew he was going to have his hands full with you tonight. He covered his grin with his hand and nodded to Martin, who just winked at Richard, grabbed a beer from the fridge and went back into the living room.

Richard chuckles at you and wraps you in his arms. “Graham did say ‘no more whiskey.” He reminds you.

You just shrug. “He can say what he likes, but it doesn’t mean I’m gonna listen.” You reply, grinning.

Richard rolls his eyes at you. “How about another round of ‘Pass the ice’?” he asks with an impish grin. You return the grin and he starts to kiss you soundly, the two of you passing the ice cube between your mouths as he explores your mouth and enjoys the tase of the whiskey on your tongue. You explore his mouth and enjoy the taste of chocolate on his.

Suddenly the alarm on his phone goes off and he breaks the kiss after passing you the ice cube back into your mouth.

He hurries over to the oven, shuts off the alarm and takes the pot holder out of the drawer. He opens the oven, then takes out the muffins and sets them on the rack to cool. Then turns off the oven.

The two of you wander out into the living room and chuckle as someone decided it was enough with the karaoke and had put in Star Wars. Everyone was either sitting on the furniture or on the floor watching it. Richard chuckles remembering filming the scenes he did for that particular film.

You look at the movie playing and whisper to him, “Isn’t this the one you have a few scenes in?” he looks surprised and nods. He moves over to a side chair and sits down, pulling you into his lap. The two of you sit there watching the movie and you sip the whiskey. When you finish it, Richard takes the glass and sets it on the side table.

You are sitting across his lap with your legs hanging off the side. You lean your head against his shoulder and close your eyes listening to the movie and picturing what was going on.

Richard feels you lean your head against his shoulder, and he grins. He reaches up and puts a hand on your head. Happy you feel comfortable enough to be doing this with him. Maybe it’s the alcohol you consumed, but regardless, he is happy for the moment. He looks over at Lee, who mimics sleeping and points to you.

Richard shakes his head, no. Lee grins and mouths “soon”. And Richard raises his eyebrows as if saying, “maybe”.

About a half hour later he feels you start to get heavier. He shifts and you don’t stir. Lee mimics sleep again and points at you and Richard nods. Lee chuckles and comes over. He squats down and brushes some hair out of your face. You’re out like a light and are oblivious to the world around you.

“What are you going to do with her, Rich?” he asks quietly.

Richard looks down at you and then around at the guests who are either sleeping already or on their way there. He sighs, “I guess we’re having a slumber party as well.” He chuckles quietly.

Lee looks around and nods. “Want me to turn off the movie?” he asks.

Richard says, “Naah. Let it play. I think I’ll go put her in one of the beds upstairs, then I’ll come back down to put the food away, so it doesn’t spoil.

“I’ll help with that then I gotta get going. I have to do some voice overs for a movie I’m in tomorrow, so I won’t be able to stay.” He tells you.

Richard nods. “Here, can you take her so I can get up?” he asks.

Lee chuckles and nods. He bends down and carefully scoops you out of Richard’s lap then steps back a few paces.

Richard stands and stretches, then Lee passes you back to Richard, who carries you upstairs and takes you to his bedroom. He lays you down in the bed and struggles to remove your corset, he finally gets it unhooked and slides it out from under you, leaving you in your shirt and pants. He carefully pulls off your boots and socks and sets them on the floor by the chair and puts your corset on the chair’s cushion.

He kisses your forehead and covers you up with his blankets.

Then he heads down and finds Lee and Graham both helping to clean up and put the food away in the fridge and freezer.

They talk with Richard about you and the three of them decide that you need a guard dog. Richard says he will talk to you about it tomorrow and will find out what kind of dog you’d like if you could have one.

Lee and Graham both tell Richard to let them know and they will help cover the costs for the stuff for the dog. Richard thanks them.

“She is a wonderful woman, Rich. I saw the two of you in the kitchen and you were both belly laughing at something. All Martin would say was ‘Ice hockey’ and would just smirk. I haven’t seen you this happy and laughing in a very long time. I hope things work out with you two.” Lee tells Rich. “If things do work out, I want an invite to the wedding!” he teases.

Rich just laughs and nods. “IF, they work out, you will get an invite, Lee.” Richard chuckles.

“For now, we’ll just take things one day at a time.” Richard says.

“Good idea.” Graham replies, and Lee nods.

“I’ll see you two later. Have a good rest of the night.” Lee tells them and then heads out the door.

Graham turns and looks at Rich. “What are ya gonna do with her?” he asks.

“I put her in one of the beds upstairs to sleep off the hangover I’m sure she’ll have in the morning.” Rich explains.

Graham raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t worry, Graham, I won’t take advantage of her.” He says smacking Graham on the arm.

“Ya better not, or I’ll beat your head in!” he warns.

Richard just chuckles. “Got a soft spot for her too?” Rich teases.

“Yeah, like she was my kid, so don’t hurt her, or you’ll be answerin’ to me!” he warns. “Scarlett said she has no family, so I guess in a way, that makes me her Pops since I found her first, out of our cluster fuck of friends!” Graham tells him teasingly.

Richard just chuckles, “Ok, old man, then I guess I won’t tell you she found the Jameson in the freezer and had a glass of that too.” He says grinning.

Graham rolls his eyes and rubs his face. “And ya didn’t stop her why?” he asks, mildly annoyed.

“Ice Hockey” Richard replies.

Graham raises an eyebrow, and rubs his temples, “Ya know what, I don’t want to know…I’m heading home. Call me when ye find out about the dog so I can call my friend and see what he’s got.”

Richard nods. “You gonna be ok to drive?” he asks.

“Yeah, haven’t had any alcohol now for a few hours.” He replied.

“Ok, see ya later.” Rich says as they head for the door. He watches Graham head for his Jaguar and watches him leave. He turns and closes the door, locking it. Then turns off the dvd and tv and heads up to the bedroom to check on you.

He sits down on the bed and brushes hair out of your face. You don’t even flinch. He yawns and takes off his shirt and pants, then puts on a pair of sweats. He is warm and climbs onto the bed, laying on top of the sheets and comforter.

You roll onto your back and he chuckles and scoots over closer to you. You sense his warmth and snuggle over to him and curl up into his side, still sound asleep.

He chuckles and lets you be. He closes his eyes and plays with your hair till he falls asleep with you cradled in his arm.

@fizzyxcustard @thetherianthropydaily @midnight-reader-morning-sleeper @daisy-picking-lady @emrfangirl

#The woman in black leather #richard armitage #graham mctavish #martin freeman #lee pace #house party #jaguar #kareoke #pretty woman

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yeenybeanies · 5 years ago

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Gone Hunting pt. 2

continuation of this little piece! not sure how long i’ll keep going on with this specific story beyond here, but i love charles & i want him to meet devin, so there’s probably going to be at least one more :>

arthur morgan, charles smith, & devin clarke ( oc )

2640 words

mild language warnings

feel free to leave comments in the tags!! thanks!!

part 1 | part 3

Ever since they’d left camp, the blue streak of curses hasn’t quieted much. Arthur’s jaw is tense, along with the rest of him, as one might expect when there’s an angry ( and scared ) borrower trapped under his hat. Who knew so much vitriol could come from such a small body? Arthur can’t bring himself to be upset at them, though; Devin has every right to be as pissed as they are.

And they are pissed.

Unfortunately, Arthur’s company doesn’t quite know what’s going on. He can tell that something is off, that Arthur is bothered, but he hasn’t the foggiest as to why. Arthur knows he’s onto him, too; he sees the man glancing over at him, growing more and more suspicious by the minute. Never mind that Arthur isn’t much of an actor as is, but Charles is as sharp as they come. How the hell is he going to play this one off? How is he going to delay the inevitable?

“ Arthur. ”

Here it comes.

Arthur looks over at his company, all while trying to keep his movements from jostling Devin. They’ve gone quiet after hearing Charles’ voice.

“ Yeah? ” He can do this. He can spin some excuse for the pained look on his face.

“ What’s wrong? ”

There’s no point denying it. Arthur swallows and forces the tension out of his jaw. “ Think whatever Pearson made last night’s actin’ up. Not presently feelin’ my greatest. ‘m okay, though. Don’t you worry about me, Charles. ” He forces a smile for his companion. Charles only looks semi-convinced ( it’s not an unbelievable story; everyone’s suffered an unhappy gut at least once at the hands of the camp cook ), but he opts not to press on it for now.

“ Okay . . .. If you need to stop, just let me know. I could probably find you something to soothe your stomach. ”

“ Naw, I’ll be alright. Hopefully it’ll settle down by the time we get to where we’re goin’. ” Devin shifts under his hat, their little hands holding onto locks of his hair to try and keep themself from flopping around too much. It can’t be comfortable for them up there––at least, not while Arthur’s on horseback. Even a Tennessee Walker’s gait would be bothersome to a borrower, he imagines.

Devin goes quiet now, but it’s not very comforting. Arthur’s not sure what he likes less: the cussing or the silence. At least with them chewing him out, he knew they were still alive and kicking. The silence is a bit more ominous. All he has to go by now is feeling their grip on his hair, and trying to interpret how they’re doing from that.

This is going to be a long ride . . ..

The sun is low in the sky by the time the two men reach their destination: a hilly grassland spot sparsely sheltered with trees and mounds of rocks. Devin’s silence has continued to worry Arthur, but he’s pretty sure he’s felt them move a little here and there. He thinks he feels them move, too, when he and Charles slow their horses on their approach to their would-be campsite under one of the rock piles.

“ Alright, then . . .. ” Arthur pulls the reins, slowing his horse to a stop, and dismounts at the base of the rocks. Devin seems to be moving a bit more, no longer being jostled so much now that he’s on his own feet. “ I gotta relieve myself, then I’ll help ya set up camp. ” Which isn’t entirely a lie; he’s been on horseback since he woke up.

“ Sure thing, Arthur. ” Charles starts to unpack, and Arthur takes his leave, heading around to the other side of the rocks.

“ You alright up there, Devin? ” He speaks just above a whisper, and looks up at the brim of his hat as if he could see the borrower settled atop his head.

“ . . . I’m alive, ” comes the weak voice. Arthur breathes out a heavy, relieved sigh.

“ Miss Devin, I––I’m real sorry about this mess. I promise you I didn’t mean to kidnap you and bring ya along. ” It is sincere, but Arthur wouldn’t be surprised if the borrower snapped and blew up on him again. Hell, he might if he were in this situation.

“ Just––just do what you need to do and let me out, ” they say, sounding exhausted from the journey. “ . . . and rinse your hands off first. ”

Can-do. Arthur takes care of his business and, as requested, rinses his hands off with a bit of water from his canteen, then gently lifts his hat. Devin takes in a deep breath, taking in cool air for the first time in hours.

Relief is short-lived, though.

“ Arthur? ”

Charles.

Arthur quickly puts his hat back on, once more covering Devin, and looks back towards the voice, a little bewildered.

“ Are you talking to someone? ” The man steps out more, rounding the rock to better face Arthur.

“ I, er . . . naw, not really. I was just voicin’ some thoughts that I’ll probably end up writin’ in my journal. ” He looks a bit sheepish. How much longer is Charles going to let him get away with these little fibs? The man narrows his eyes, one brow lifted.

“ You sure you’re okay? Stomach’s not still bothering you, is it? ”

This isn’t going to last much longer. Charles knows that Arthur is hiding something, which makes Arthur feel worse for continuing to hide it than he already did.

“ Nah. Think I got that cleared out. ‘least until the next time I get it. ” He attempts a chuckle, though it’s half-hearted and weak. Charles, of course, looks unconvinced. “ Charles. I’m okay. don’t worry about me. ”

“ Arthur, you––– ”

“ I said I’m fine, didn’t I? ” Atop his head, Devin tenses, their little hands holding tighter to his hair. Arthur is a little taken aback himself; he hadn’t meant to raise his voice at Charles. The man doesn’t deserve it. He clears his throat, fist to his lips, and tips his hat down, hiding his eyes. God dammit . . ..

“ . . . okay. ” Charles straightens.

This doesn’t feel good, but Arthur doesn’t see another route right now. He isn’t sure for how long Charles will be placated, but at least he’s dropped it for now.

“ Right. Let’s get this camp set up. ” Arthur takes a breath and straightens his belt, then heads back around to the other side of the rock. He can give Devin some relief when manages to set his hat aside so they don’t have to endure him constantly bending down and straightening up. However, it doesn’t change the fact that they are stuck out here, so the relief is minimal.

It’s startling, seeing the hat shift around them when Arthur starts to lift it. Devin feels a moment of panic, only exacerbated as that massive hand sweeps in through the growing crack. They squeak, which makes the hand pause for a moment, almost looking remorseful, before it overtakes them, surrounding them.

“ Arthur––– . . .. ” The rough callouses scratch at them, but the skin is warm, and, despite the confines, the cowboy is impossibly gentle. He isn’t squeezing them––not beyond needing to keep them contained in his hold. Devin’s heart still pounds in their chest, but they remind themself that Arthur has never been anything but kind and careful with them . . ..

Devin squeaks again when the hold on them loosens, and they drop down into Arthur’s hat, now upturned. The borrower shakes their head and looks up. Silhouetted against the oranges and pinks of the sky, Arthur towers above them. It isn’t just the setting sun that’s casting long shadows on his face, though; he’s clearly bothered. Devin feels a pang of guilt, aware that they are the source, but––but it’s also Arthur’s own damn fault that they’re here at all! They huff quietly to themself and huddle against the leather, trying not to focus on the shifting world beyond the hat.

“ Gonna set you down while I help Charles, ” the man whispers, sparing a glance down at Devin.

“ Thank you, ” they squeak back, no louder than a mouse. The hat tilts, and they follow the movement to avoid falling. Arthur lowers them to a smooth patch of rock, and settles the hat down over them, keeping them concealed. At least for a little bit they don’t have to deal with the constant swaying that comes with being carried by a human.

Between Charles and Arthur, it doesn’t take long to set up camp and get a fire pit built. Charles is mostly silent through it, and Arthur can feel the tension. It’s eating away at him. He doesn’t want to lose his friendship with Charles over this, but Devin . . . their life depends on their secrecy ( not that he thinks Charles would hurt them, but it isn’t his place to expose them ).

“ Arthur! ” Charles’ sharp voice cuts into Arthur’s thoughts, making him jump. Charles must have been talking to him, and he hadn’t been listening at all. Damn . . ..

“ Hn? Yeah? Sorry, I was––I was miles away. ” He rubs his neck sheepishly as he faces his friend.

“ As you’ve been this whole trip. ” The man frowns. For a moment, Arthur thinks he’s going to ask again what the problem is, but he doesn’t. He sighs and continues, “ We should get some rest. We’re getting up early tomorrow and going after the bison. ”

“ Right. Sounds good. I’ll start the fire. ” Arthur heads back towards where he left his hat and tries to subtly lift both it and the borrower under it. It’s a little awkward, but Arthur does feel some relief when he feels the minuscule weight in his hand. At least they haven’t run off yet, or worse. He shifts to carry Devin and his hat in one hand so he can use his other to grab the matches from his saddle bag.

Charles doesn’t seem to be paying too much attention as Arthur returns to the pit they’ve built, holding his hat a little awkwardly. Once he manages to get a fire going one-handed, he shuffles back to settle on his bedroll, hat coming to rest on his stomach. Little footsteps push against his palm and hop down onto his shirt. It tickles. Arthur has to keep himself from reacting, wanting neither to disturb the borrower or alert Charles to more of his odd behavior.

Dinner isn’t anything spectacular: foods warmed up over the fire, or, in Arthur’s case, eaten straight from the can. He manages to sneak Devin a few pieces to fill their belly while they stay hidden. The poor little borrower––they’ve been through a lot today. Arthur sighs, then kicks himself mentally. He should try to keep his breathing steady if he’s got Devin on his stomach . . ..

“ Arthur, ” comes Charles’ voice. Arthur glances over towards his friend, one brow lifted. “ You aren’t upset with me, are you? That’s not why you’re acting strange? ”

Oof. Arthur winces and looks away. “ Naw, Charles. You n’ me––we’re good. Promise. I just . . . got a lot on my mind is all. ” At least that’s a truth he can offer. Charles’ features glow in the fire’s light, still shaped with concern, but he does show some understanding to Arthur’s answer.

As the conversation dies, Arthur gingerly shifts to make himself a bit more comfortable on his bedroll. He should sleep. He only hopes that Devin will manage to do so as well.

It’s been almost half a day now since they left the camp––Charles and Arthur, with Devin brought unwillingly ( and accidentally, to Arthur’s credit ) along for the ride. Almost half a day’s worth of bouncing around under Arthur’s hat has now brought Devin to be lying . . . well, still under Arthur’s hat. At least the ride here is less bumpy. From where they are, they can hear Arthur’s breathing, and they can feel the thumping of his pulse under his shirt. If they’re honest, it’s a little bit comforting, a little bit soothing. But it is also, as they eventually come to realize, very hot under here––hotter on his middle than it was on top of his head. The borrower does try to move carefully, though they know well that Arthur doesn’t wake easily, as they feel around in the darkness for the hat’s wall. Once located, they dig their arms under and lift, taking in a breath of fresh, cool night’s air.

“ Okay, Devin, ” they whisper to themself, “ everything’s fine. Everything’s going to be fine. ” Arthur will get them back to camp. Alive. This whole ordeal will be over soon. They take another deep breath, then shuffle their way out from under the hat’s brim, out into the open. The surface beneath them continues to rise and fall slowly; Arthur is still asleep, as expected. Much of their anger with him has faded by now. There’s just exasperation left in the ashes of the earlier flames. Devin thinks for a moment that they ought to apologize for the verbal lashing they’d given him, but . . . nah. He deserved it for being so damn stupid. Besides, they’re sure he won’t hold it against them.

Using what little light the moon and the faded fire offer, Devin makes their way down to the cowboy’s hip, and down further to his knee––the one lifted, crossed over the other. There’s a gentle breeze blowing through, stirring their hair, calming them. For the first time in the past twelve hours, things are peaceful.

Unfortunately, in the case of borrowers and unlucky cowboys, peace doesn’t tend to last long. Whispers reach Devin’s ears, making them go stiff. Their head snaps in the direction of the voices, eyes wide and straining to see what––or who––is out there. In the darkness, they can just barely make out two shadowy figures. From the look and sound of it, they seem to be getting closer.

“ Arthur . . .? ” Devin pushes themself to a crouch, eyes locked on the figures. The whispers are getting louder, more intelligible.

“ We gonna jus’ rob ‘em? Or we gonna kill ‘em too? ” says one.

“ There’s only two of ‘em. We can kill ‘em easy n’ see if they got anything valuable on their persons too, ” says the other.

Oh no. Bandits. Devin’s blood runs cold. They shoot a quick glance towards Arthur’s face. He is still very much asleep. And the bandits are getting closer.

“ Arthur! “ Their own whispers aren’t going to wake the cowboy, but they don’t exactly want the bandits to hear them either.

Then again, if they don’t wake Arthur and the bandits end up killing him as a result––– . . ..

“ Arthur! ” Louder now is their voice, yelling. They scurry off of his knee and slide down onto the ground, hidden from the bandits’ view, but also now unable to see them in return.

“ Wait. D’ja year that? ” Oh no. “ Sounded like a squeaky li’l voice. Is there someone else here? ”

Now the panic sets in. Devin sprints up a couple of feet, sticking close to Arthur’s side.

“ ARTHUR! ”

#g/t #g/t writing #G/t fiction #g/t rdr #rdr #arthur morgan #charles smith #devin clarke #hyena writes #hyena ocs #also hello this is the 100th post on this blog!!

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honeymoonjin · 5 years ago

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darlin’ - kim seokjin x reader

A/N: welcome to my favorite thing I’ve ever written. You are an actress that needs to learn how to ride a horse. Jin is the insanely hot cowboy that’s been tasked with teaching you. If this gets enough attention, I’ll be uploading the sequel (aka a pwp). 2.3k.

You sit gloomily on the rocking chair sitting on the front porch of the ranch. Less than a week ago you had been given the role of your lifetime; the leading lady in a period piece k-drama. Unfortunately for you, this job required horse-riding skills, something you very much lacked. You had begged for a stunt double, not wanting to go anywhere near those beasts, but there were too many scenes with actual dialogue that took place while the character was on a horse, and the budget had to be spent elsewhere.

So, here you were, waiting for the instructor to arrive and questioning if this was even worth it. Luckily it was warm enough to warrant your thin cotton leggings and workout tank, seeing as no one had really told you what to wear when coming here. The sun was high in the sky but there was enough cloud to ensure it wouldn’t be beating down on you. Beyond the ranch, there was an open expanse of fields and paddocks that slowly sloped up into hills at the horizon line. You reluctantly admitted it was a very beautiful place.

You hadn’t met the instructor yet; apparently, he wasn’t even a teacher, but he owned this place and was the only one qualified for miles. Shooting in the middle of nowhere did mean your options were limited.

“Ah, there you are, I’ve been lookin’ all over for you, missy.”

You start at the voice and look up to see a torso right in front of you. Incredibly worn and washed out jeans were cinched at his surprisingly delicate waist with a cut strip of leather, and a somewhat baggy white tank top was slightly tucked in, exposing his glorious arms and some of his collarbone. You had to admit that a life on a farm certainly looked good on him.

You glanced up, shielding your eyes slightly from the sun that was behind him, and just about choked on your own spit. With his hair lit up by the sun, glowing orange on the ends, and lips of an angel, he was possibly the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen, and that was including the actors you’d starred with before.

Belatedly, you remember he had spoken to you, and was now watching you drink up the view with an amused grin. “Oh, Jin, right? Uh, I thought if I got closer to the house, I might be able to get some Wi-Fi. Sorry.”

He chuckles, and your thighs clench together at the satiny sound. “Bless your heart. Darlin’, there’s no internet here. Old Marge down the road has her own cell tower or somethin’, but not me. Don’t need it.”

You gape at him. “What do you mean? What if, I don’t know, there was an emergency?”

He holds out a hand to help you stand, and you take it, marveling at the callouses on his palm and the effortless way he lifts you up out of the seat. “You don’t gotta worry a single hair on that pretty little head o’ yours, missy. I’ll take good care o’ you.”

You swallow hard at the double entendre, unsure if he even means it like that, and follow him down an uneven dirt path around the back of the ranch. Without letting go of your hand, which feels completely swallowed up by his, he leads you to a small stable beside a significantly larger barn.

“So, what animals do you have here?” you ask conversationally, looking to disperse the strange tension that had arisen.

“We got cows, we got some chickens, these horses o’ course. At some point you might meet Winston, he’s my farm dog. Keeps the livestock in line.” He comes to an abrupt stop, leaving you with a close-up view of the expanse of his back, just enough of his tanned shoulder blades visible to make you want to drool. “Now, darlin’, you ever ridden before?”

You shake your head. “I’m a little nervous, actually.”

He steps aside and swings an arm over your shoulders, pulling you in tight. “Don’t be, don’t be. The old girls‘ll love you, they’re absolute sweethearts.”

He kept his arm around you while he slid the lock across and let the wooden gate swing open. Slowly, two horses lumber out and look around curiously. You instinctively try to pull back, but the arm behind you prevents you from moving. “Shh, you’re okay,” he coos, rubbing the bare skin of your shoulder with the rough pad of his thumb. Jin reaches out with his other hand to let one of the horses, a tan one, nuzzle at his knuckles while the chesnut-brown one snuffles and stretches its legs. “They won’t hurt you. This here is Rosie, and the dark-haired beauty over there is Juliette. I took ‘em both out for a ride this morning, so they won’t be too energetic or bouncy, okay? Come on, I think Juliette wants to say hello.”

You jump in fright when a furry ridge is pressed against your arm, just below where Jin’s hand rests, and whirl your head around to see Juliette rubbing her long forehead against you. Jin continues to hush you and calm you down, and eventually you work up the courage to tentatively hover your hand in the air, fingers curled slightly inwards to present your knuckles.

Happily, Juliette pushes softly at your hand with her muzzle, until you get the idea and begin to run the flat of your hand up and down her forehead.

“You see, Juliette,” Jin calls out from beside you, “I told you she’d be sweet as a peach.”

You flush at the compliment and clear your throat. “Do we just get on them and go?”

“Darlin, they’re animals, not rollercoaster rides. They need to be comfortable with you just as you’re needin’ to be comfortable with them. Would you normally ride someone just after meetin’ ‘em? Come on, I’ll help you up.”

You bite your lip as Jin lifts his arm up off you, only to place both hands on your waist and gently push you forward until you’re standing at Juliette’s side, just beside the saddle.

“Now,” you suck in a breath when the hand on your right side slides down your thigh and cups the back of your knee, “you wanna lift this foot up and slip it into the stirrup facin’ forward. There you go. Next, you’re goin’ to hold on to the reins and grab some of Juliette’s mane, don’t worry, it won’t hurt her if you’re gentle, and lift yourself up and swing your leg over.” He takes his hands off of you and steps back, holding Juliette’s head steady.

You freeze and blink dumbly at him. Slowly, you reach up and grab the reigns, softly holding onto the thick hair of Juliette’s mane. He smiles at you, his eyes crinkling shut, and nods. Encouraged, you push off the ground and try to hoist yourself up, only to slip down again without enough momentum to get on. “I can’t do it,” you say, “I’m too short.”

“Nonsense,” he rebukes, “d’you think jockeys use a stepladder? You ain’t too short, you’re just too scared. Come on now, darlin’, one big jump is all you need.”

You take a steadying breath, squat slightly, and jump off, swinging your leg up. But again, your knee catches on the saddle instead of making it over, and you land heavily back on the ground, hopping around on one foot a bit to catch your balance. Juliette harrumphs and starts shifting back and forth impatiently. “Jin, I can’t do it.”

Jin lets go of Juliette’s head to come beside you again, reaching down to slip your right foot back out of the stirrup. You wince at the stretch in your hip muscle as you stand back on two feet. “Maybe you’re more of a beginner than I thought. That’s okay, I’ll tell you what; how’s about you and I ride the same horse together for now? I can handle the reigns and keep you steady and you can just get used to being on a horse?”

Reflexively, your eyes dip down to his crotch before returning to his face. “That sounds good, yeah. Let’s do that.”

He chuckles quietly to himself, wiping his hands on the front of his jeans. Wordlessly, you watch him unbuckle the saddle off Juliette and replace it with a longer one that has two sets of stirrups dangling from it. “Alright then, little lady, I’ll lift you up and get on right behind you, okay?” You step back up to Juliette and let him maneuver your hands to be gripping onto her mane, before he abruptly grabs your hips and lifts you up with an unprecedented strength. You squeak and jolt forward, pressing your chest against Juliette’s back to balance yourself as you lift your left leg over her and sit down on the saddle.

With your feet dangling, unable to locate the stirrups in your fright, and a death grip on the thick hair of Juliette’s mane, you feel your heart racing. “Jin,” you cry out, startled further when Juliette begins to shift beneath you.

You feel a weird tugging sensation on your right side, and then a pressure on your back. Two strong arms wrap around your middle, lifting you upright so your back is pressed against Jin’s solid chest. “Easy, easy,” he soothes, “you’re alright, I’ve got you.”

You let yourself calm down, going lax in his arms and tipping your head back so it rests on his shoulder. You feel his chest vibrate when he talks, and suddenly you become aware of just how much contact there is between you. “Fuck, that was freaky.”

“Language,” he scolds in a light tone, “don’t make me wash your mouth out with soap. There now, this isn’t so bad, is it? Should we go for a little wander?”

You sit upright and shake your head quickly. “I think I want to get off now.”

“Don’t be silly,” he retorts, “you’re doin’ just fine, missy. Come on, I’ll take it slow.”

Jin reaches down for the reigns and holds them taut but not tight, and he must have some secret command you don’t know about, because the horse begins to move forward slowly. Your heart jumps and one of your hands lets go of Juliette’s mane to latch onto his forearm, but he just shushes you and transfers one of the reigns to his other hand, holding his palm flat for you to grab a hold of. You place your hand in his and he interlocks your fingers, rotating his wrist slightly so that he can pick up the reign again with his thumb, pulling it in so that it is clasped between your joined hands. Jin turns his other palm up with the reign resting across it. His voice is low in your ear. “Your other one?”

More reluctantly this time, you let go of Juliette’s mane and hold Jin’s other hand. So focused on the feeling of his calloused palms against your much softer ones, you almost don’t realize Juliette has been picking up speed, the only indication being the way you begin to bounce a little in the saddle.

“That’s it,” Jin praises, “you’ve got the hang of it now, darlin’. Now, to make a horse speed up, you give her a little push with your heels, and to make her slow down, pull the reigns a little tighter. I want you to make her speed up a little bit, and then slow down again.”

You bite your lip and tentatively squeeze your feet inwards onto Juliette’s body. She immediately picks up speed and you gasp, letting her go at the quicker pace for a few moments before tugging the reigns back with the hands you have interlocked with Jin’s.

“Good, there you go, you’re a natural.” Jin shuffles a little, and you suck in a quiet breath when his new position leaves his crotch pressed right up to your ass. “We’re going to go faster now, I want you to try and push your pelvis down a little into the seat like I am, so that you don’t bounce around too much.”

Acquiescing, you shift your hips forward a little so that your core is flattened against the saddle. You shiver when you feel your clit press against the solid leather. This really wasn’t the time to be getting turned on, and so you cleared your throat. “Okay, let’s go.”

Jin squeezes your hands once. “There’s my brave girl. Hold on tight, now.”

You focus on doing just that as Juliette begins to gain some serious momentum, until eventually she’s just short of a full-blown gallop. Your stress-level is high and you’re trying to keep breathing, but every time Juliette lands, a jolt shoots up your core and Jin’s jeans rub against the tender skin of your ass underneath your leggings.

It takes you a while to realize with your senses already overwhelmed, but once Jin pulls your hands back to tighten the reigns and slow Juliette down, you can feel a hardness against you, and hear the sound of Jin’s heavy breathing in your ear.

You almost feel like panting yourself, knowing that by now your underwear is probably a mess. “Why are we stopping?” you ask with a shaky voice.

“Oh, darlin’,” Jin murmurs in your ear in a gravely tone, “you can feel what you do to me. Did you think a horse was the only thing you’d be riding today?”

#bts x reader #jin smut #jin fanfic #jin fic #seokjin x reader #bts au #ksj

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