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just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot · 4 years

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Che Bellissima Neve

Pairings: Romantic Prinxiety

TWs: agoraphobia mention, just a lot of long distance pining

Summary: With his lover constantly travelling the world, acting on stages all over Europe and beyond, Virgil wonders if it’ll be snowing in Venice by the time he sees Roman again...

(Recommended music: Snow In Venice by Elizaveta)

Virgil Giordano was never normally one for things like promises and long goodbyes.

Coffee in hand, he warmed his cold fingers against the mug. His phone was right there by his side, but his right index finger instead busied itself - not with numbers - but with cursive.

Looping letters.

Spelling out where his heart lay.

The winter had seen fit to bless Venice with a soft kiss of frost. Gathering in the corners of the windows, haphazardly along the walkways, tickling the noses and lips of passers by. All the while Virgil couldn’t fight off the disappointment as the sky remained clear. The stars were beautiful, but his wasn’t among them. No, his star was miles away from where he should be; back home, in Virgil’s arms.

Stealing his body warmth while they cuddled together. Complaining at the lack of room for the both of them on the one chair, but still refusing to move. Running his hands through the freshly plum pigmented plume of hair atop Virgil’s head.

A soft sigh left Virgil as the homebound poet quietly pined for his lover.

Roman D’Angelo had only dreamt of this level of stardom in far fetched dreams and scrawled in journals during drama lessons.

Even as he walked out of Berlin’s Theatre Des Westens still wearing his getup as Leopold Bloom, Roman could hardly believe he was one of the most sought after up-and-coming musical actors in Europe. Stopping for autographs was brief; Roman adored his fans of course, but the face he always longed to see among them was never there. Not for a lack of wanting, but because his beloved was confined to his home - no, their home, it was always home for the both of them no matter how far Roman travelled - by his agoraphobia. Roman never held it against him, he only wished he could call home more often.

As his taxi passed a phonebox, Roman politely asked the driver to stop. His wallet held rarely any change these days, but he had what he hoped would be enough.

The cold night air caressed his fingers unpleasantly. Curse his lack of patience, but spontaneity was always Roman’s forte when it came to acts of the heart. Screw his phone that needed charging back in his hotel room, he needed to hear his beloved’s voice that second. Each number dialled brought a new rush of excitement and nerves until the phone began to ring.

He just hoped Virgil hadn’t decided to have an early night..

Luckily for Roman, Virgil was as much an insomniac as he was an agoraphobe.

Of course, he didn’t recognise the number, perhaps it was a spam caller? Probably. He rolled his eyes and went back to sipping his cooling coffee, content to let the answering system take a message. Instead of some hack trying to sell him car insurance or some scam worthy payment plan, the voice on the other end had Virgil scrambling to answer the call so quickly he nearly doused himself in lukewarm bean water.

“Virgil? It’s me, though I take it you must be asle-”

“Roman!”, Virgil cursed the crack in his voice as he answered, “I’m here, Princey. It’s been a while, where are you calling from this time, mister world-famous-actor?”

Roman’s hearty laughter had Virgil’s own heart beating so loudly he wondered if he should schedule a doctor’s visit. “I’m not quite there yet, cuore mio. But I’m in Berlin, Charlottenburg to be exact. And it’s still snowing, in fact it’s snowed every night since opening night. Can you believe that?”

“Really?”, Virgil sighed, unable to stop the fond smile making itself at home on his lips, “Sounds lovely.”

“It is…. But it does have its drawbacks.”, the actor mused, drinking in the adorable noise of intrigue his lover made over the phone.

“And what would they be?”

“... It’s not home.”, Roman began, his eyes following the tufts of snow that danced through the skies outside the phone box. “And you’re not here.”

For a moment, Roman wondered if he’d overstepped. If he’d made Virgil feel bad for not being able to be beside him, but his fears were replaced by a longing he wasn’t aware he was capable of as Virgil’s voice - almost strange in it’s softness - caressed his ears,

“Funny, I was just thinking that myself.”

It was hard for Roman to find the words, but he mustered the courage to ask, “Are you doing alright, Virge?”. The silence gave Roman his answer, he knew Virgil would never admit to him outright just how much he missed him, how lonely he was at night without Roman by his side. Well, not directly.

“... When will you be home again, vita mia?”

Virgil knew Roman would be home in an instant if he could manage it. If he wasn’t bound by the dream he’d had since their adolescent years, Virgil knew his beloved would be in his arms right that second. But the poet knew what he signed up for when he fell in love with Roman D’Angelo; he was prepared to let his beloved chase his dreams while he could never follow alongside him. That didn’t mean it hurt any less to be without him.

“...Virgil? Are you still there?”

“Oh, um, yeah. Sorry, I-“

“Got caught up in your thoughts again, cuore mio?”

Virgil nodded bashfully before realising Roman couldn’t see him, “Yeah. I just…. I miss you so much, Roman..”

“... I know you do. And I miss you too.”

He hadn’t meant for Roman to hear the soft, dejected huff he let out, but as he practically heard Roman frown over the phone, Virgil sighed, “It’s been almost a year, Roman, almost a year of telling myself not to be selfish, just wishing you were here with me instead. I just… I want you to be happy, but I don’t know how much longer I can go on without you.”

The anxiety he felt pooling in his stomach threatened to draw out his tears when Roman softly spoke again over the line. Lord knows, Virgil adored the tenderness in his tone and the love dripping from each syllable,

“Vita mia, anima mia, bisogna resistere...”, Virgil’s breath hitched and he was unsure if it was because he was close to an anxiety attack or because he could feel the hope building itself a home in his chest, “I’ll be home soon, vita mia, I promise.”

He wanted to believe it, but he’d heard those words before and Virgil couldn’t help the doubt his hope was wrestling with, “Before or after it starts snowing in Venice?”, he joked.

Roman chuckled, they were both grateful for the moment of levity, “Never doubt the power of my undying love for you, Giordano.”

Virgil chuckled, affectionately snarking something akin to ‘sbruffone’ as he hung up and got cosy in his armchair. It had just passed midnight, he might as well get comfy considering he wouldn’t be able to sleep now. Not with Roman invading his every thought…

Once Roman had returned to the taxi, he was filled with an unwavering resolve. He all but raced to his hotel room; his hands blurred in his vision as he began to pack the few things he had brought with him into his suitcase with one hand while the other held his phone.

After the couple of times he’d pulled out the charger on accident, Roman was finally able to call his manager. Despite her protests, Roman knew they could let his understudy handle being Leo Bloom for the last couple of shows. Even if it meant it might cost him some valuable work and publicity.

Sure, being on stage was his dream, but Virgil was his life.

“I’m coming home, vita mia...”

The armchair was so comfy. Virgil hoped whoever was knocking at his door was prepared for the consequences of waking him up.

In fairness, he should have gone to bed instead of snuggling even warmer into the chair, but also in fairness there was no reason for anyone to be knocking on his door at half four in the morning. Seriously, who just does that? Virgil hoped it wasn’t some stranger in need of help; he didn’t fancy having to stomach explaining he was literally terrified of leaving his house. Perhaps it would just be Valerie next door, checking in on him, that’d be nice. That he could deal with. As long as it wasn’t the mailman. Or Mormans.

If his fear of going outside could be rivalled by anything, it was with his hatred of people trying to intrude on his home.

Virgil’s mental ramblings stopped as his mismatched eyes caught a glimpse of a figure through the frosted glass of the door. It was hard to be certain, but the silhouette, the colours, even when distorted…

Never had the door known such force as Virgil tore open the door and came face to face with the love of his life.

“Roman…!!”

The taller man smiled like the angels Virgil was sure had carved him; his cheeks and nose were flushed rosy red, his dark hair was tousled and stuffed underneath the winter beanie atop his head. By the way he was breathing, Virgil guessed that Roman had run at least the length of the street to get here.

Despite knowing he’d regret it once the intrusive thoughts came for him, Virgil braved the two steps outside his doorway to wrap his arms around Roman, a gesture his beloved returned. Warm hands resting on Virgil’s lower back assured him that everything that was happening was real; that the Roman in his arms was real. He didn’t give a second thought to kissing his darling actor, he just did.

When they finally broke for air, Roman chuckled, sweet as honey, bathing Virgil’s face in warm breath, “Vita mia, Virgil, I’m loath to suggest we stop, but I fear you may freeze if we continue. I love you but I’d rather the love of my life not be turned into a popsicle.”

It took Virgil a second to realise what Roman meant. Not only had he rushed out in his pjs, but his clothes and skin were littered with tiny plumes of snow.

Snow. In Venice.

When Roman pulled off a surprise, he sure did it in style.

As much as the poet could feel his anxiety over being outside - even momentarily - begin to build, he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle,

“Come on then, Roman,”, Virgil huffed softly, his smile so beaming with love, Roman wondered if it was possible to be burned alive by it, “You have stories to tell me from your travels, and I have a warm armchair and some coffee to for us to share...”

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Fluff? Straight up fluff? No angst!? It’s likelier than you think!

Seeing out the year with a happy little fic based on smth I talked about with a friend after the Christmas Concert Livestream!

All the Italian used is stuff I tried to cross reference so if anything is wrong or could be improved, please let me know!

(they’re supposed to be talking in Italian the entire fic I just wanted to add in some actual Italian like in the song)

Taglist:

@patton-cake @does-this-look-logicality-to-you @justalittlecorrupted @irritating-lady-knight @katlikethesword @gattonero17 @shadowylemon

#roman sanders #virgil sanders #prinxiety #prinxiety fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #roman #virgil #snow in venice #this is just straight up fluff honestly #my fics

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years

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this is it! the official last part to UTCM! thank you so much for reading <3

wc: 1.8k

story masterlist | masterlist

part one part two part three part four

͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

“Harry! Hurry up, they’re almost here!”

You were rushing in the kitchen, trying to get everything in decent sized platters and on the table as soon as possible. You had made the mistake of waking up later than usual, and you immediately rushed out of bed, heading straight to the kitchen when you saw him cooking.

He was shirtless as per usual. Hair a mess, but nonetheless, messy hair looked good on him. And he was in his boxers, telling you that he hasn’t been up for long. His back was facing you, and you had walked slowly towards him as you watched the muscles flex with every movement, making your knees weak.

You smiled as you wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek against his soft back. “Morning. Why didn’t you wake me?” You kiss his skin, making it rise with goosebumps.

He turned around in your arms and looked down at you, flashing his lazy smile, confirming that he had literally just woken up. “Goodmorning, darling.” His pet name for you had plastered a big smile, showing so much love you have for him. “You look beautiful when you sleep. Plus, I wanted to help out. Know you’ll be running around before they arrive.”

He was right because you were doing exactly that.

“Harry! Hurry up, they’re almost here!” You call out from the kitchen.

“Darling, you know everything doesn’t have to be set up right when they get here, so please just slow down.” He kisses your temple, and for a second you felt yourself relax, but that was just for a quick second.

“I know. I just want everything ready when they get here so I don’t have to worry about anything.” He softly says an ‘okay’, knowing there was no point in getting you to calm down.

“So, what can I do to help? Put the sauce in this?” He holds up a saucer cup, but you instantly snatch it from him.

“And have you ruin your expensive shirt? Not happening.” You shake your head.

“Oh, come on! Let me help you out please?” He pouts, giving his best puppy eyes.

“Oh please! Quit that!” You swore it was like living with a four year old. He didn’t change his face, grabbing your arm and blinking furiously. “Ugh! Fine. Set the table and get the casserole out of the oven. My back hurts.”

Harry’s face went back to normal and proceeded to kiss your cheek, which you still smiled at, chuckling at his behavior.

The table was set, and the food had already been transferred onto nicer and bigger plates that were set on the table. Everyone was starting to arrive, saying hi to each other, going straight for drinks, and taking their seats at the table.

“So, why’d you call all of us here?” Gemma asks, and you know her suspicion had been high ever since she got the call from Harry when he asked you were having a big dinner.

“Nothing. Just wanted the whole family to get together again.” She eyes you suspiciously, and you mentally curse, knowing she’s too smart to be put through any games.

Everyone was there right in front of you. Minny and her family, Anne and Gemma, and your mom. Everyone you needed was right there. Food and bowls were passed around and across the long table in the dining room, and everytime you looked up, Harry would be looking right at you.

He would always put up a front saying that he should sit right next to you when you have family dinners instead of across from you. ‘It’s a long distance away from you’ he would say, making you chuckle and telling him that he can survive an hour of dinner without him right next to you.

After everyone was comfortable and settled with their plate of food, Jenny stood up from her seat and raised her glass. “A toast. To everyone in this room and my husband, who is not here, but with us, always. To Whitney’s number one fan.”

“To Whitney’s number one fan!” The entire table yelled out before sipping from their glasses.

You caught Jenny’s eye and smiled before mouthing ‘I love you’ to her and her doing the same. The amount of strength your mother had was admirable, and you had always hoped you would amount to her strength and kind heart everyday.

The conversations had flowed throughout the table as they laughed and ate the food you and Harry had prepared.. And you were happy. Happy with the people that were in the room. The people that you surround yourself with. And you thought, ‘this is the perfect time.’

“I’m pregnant.” You blurt out. The whole room went silent, conversations were ended, and you were filled with anxiousness; thinking of what they might say and how they’re going to react. But then everyone gasped and started cheering. Smiles went all around the room as they walked up to you and hugged you, asking you ‘how long?’ and telling you how happy they were to get a baby in the family.

You were filled with joy by how they reacted, but the only reaction you were worried about was the one across the room.

You hadn’t even told Harry before announcing it to the whole group, and you figured you would surprise him as well. But so many thoughts ran through your head, thinking he was going to be angry with you for not telling him in private.

Your eyes had remained on his, and his, yours. He was in so much shock that he hadn’t realized the people around him were hugging him as his eyes never left yours. Yours were glossy from nerves, but happiness that the news was out.

His family had finally given him some space as they went on hugging each other, and discussing gender and baby names. He started walking towards you, and before he could speak, you beat him to it.

“Harry, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, nor did I tell you when we were alone. I was just thinking that it’ll be nice to surprise you, like really surprise you, but I wasn’t thinking. I-” your rambling was cut off by his lips as they met yours. You were shaking in his hold, but soon calmed down as his tongue met yours, making you weak. You could have fallen right then and there, but his strong arms held you up, and therefore, you were grateful. He pulled away, breathless and speechless. “You’re not mad?”

“Of course not, my darling. How could I ever be mad when I’m the absolute happiest guy in the world right now.” His smile was beaming so bright that it could provide light into your house for hours.

“Thank goodness. I thought you would want me to tell you when we were alone.” You felt a sense of relief run through your rest that eased your shoulders.

“You could tell me in the movie theatre, and I would scream and cry, not caring if we were supposed to be quiet. Could care less where you told me.” You tippytoe to peck his lips. “So, we’re having a baby. You’re really having my baby.” You nod, happy tears coming down your face as you hug him tight, burying your head in his chest as he cradles you.

You look around the room and see everyone with excited smiles on their faces and their eyes filled with fondness for a baby that’s not even born yet. This was it. This is your life.

You had always wondered how your life became to this. You were so utterly grateful for what was given to you. Everyone around you was your greatest treasure.

A two years ago, you wouldn’t have known if Harry was going to be in your life again. But a trip to the lake house brought you two together. The kiss under the canyon moon ignited a spark in you, giving you a sign that you couldn’t do life without him.

After you had shown up on his doorstep the minute you got back to the city after the trip, he had let you in without hesitation. You two had talked a lot because things needed to be spoken about, and it was the start of working your way back into a relationship and trusting each other again.

You started going on dates and letting him take you out, and it wasn’t awkward for a second; the connection had always been there from the start. After a month of dating again, you had let him do unspoken things to your body that involved his mouth and tongue, guiding you to pleasure. And of course, you wanted to reciprocate, but Harry being the gentleman he is, told you it was about you. But a week after, he had let you pleasure him to his high.

A year later, he proposed. He took you on a weekend trip, telling you to take Thursday and Friday off of work. He drove you down to a lake house, and you weren’t surprised when you entered the route with trees and the woods surrounding the road. It was a romantic getaway that you both needed, but after dinner one night, he took you to the back where twinkled lights were hung up under the stars and the moon. He got down on one knee and said an entire speech about how much he loves you and how much he needs you in his life, that you can recite back to anyone if they asked. Of course, you said yes, and he took you—carried you back inside and made love to you all night on a blanket in front of the fireplace.

You and Harry got married three months after he proposed. You had told him the idea of not wanting a big wedding, just your usual people and some friends. Harry had thrown the idea of getting married at Lina and Dan’s lake house, and you wrapped your arms around his body while kissing his face, telling him you loved the idea. Of course, Lina and Dan agreed, how could they not when their second daughter was getting married. It didn’t take long to get decorations or tables; you really only needed about 4 big tables since there were only 25 people going. Caterer was handled by Anne since her friend was in the catering business. Everyone was happy to help, and you and Harry were entirely grateful for it because you wanted to call him your husband already and vice versa. And when that day came, it was magical.

Under the canyon moon was when it all started again, so you two said ‘I do’ when the moon was bright enough to shine (along with big lights that were set in the back), sealing your lifetime together as one.

You look up at Harry, not disconnecting your bodies that are pushed up together. He looks down at you with tears in his eyes that have fallen down his face.

“I��m home, baby.”

thank you for reading and tuning in to UTCM! this is my first (mini) series, and it was so fun writing this! hope you enjoyed <3 also send me requests on what you’d like me to write so I can turn your imagination to a fic! but i will warn you, it might take a while cause i’m currently working on something else!

talk to me about UTCM here !!

taglist: @pradaxstyles @iconicharry

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emy-loves-you · 4 years

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Wrong Numbers and Useless Gays Chapter 13

YOU AGAIN?!?

Chapter 12 | Masterlist | Chapter 14

Make sure you read the first prequel chapter before reading this, or it won’t make a lot of sense!

It was Monday morning, four days since he had his face bashed in, and Virgil realized that he might have a problem. While his schedule was usually

Breakfast

Go to Janus’/Work on Music

Lunch

Talk to crushes

Watch TV/ Read new book

Dinner

Draw

Sleep

his schedule for today was

Go to Puppy Pastries/Flirt with Angel

Go to Library/Flirt with Starlight

Lunch

Talk to crushes

Babble about other Angel and Starlight to Janus and Remus

Dinner

Fantasize about crushes

Sleep

So yeah, Virgil might have a problem. Or he would if he saw this as a problem. Which he didn’t. So here he was, strolling up to Puppy Pastries like he owned the place. He walked inside, glad that this place was busier in the afternoon than in the morning. He approached the counter glancing at the figure’s pronoun bracelet before speaking. “Hello, Katherine. Any chance you could get your boss out here?”

Katherine sighed, leaning against the counter. “Hello again, rich customer. You do realize that your one of the few people to actually make the boss yell, right? And that he’s in a relationship?”

Virgil rolled his eyes fondly, grabbing a lollipop from the stand. “He seems like the more softspoken type, so I’m not surprised. Why do you think I call him Angel? And while I didn’t know about the relationship, he can just tell me to stop flirting and I will. He definitely knows how to say no, and I’ll respect his wishes. Until then, I like to see him blush. So, can you call for him, please?”

Katherine eyed him for a few moments before sighing, turning towards the back of the establishment. “Boss! Rich dude’s back!” There was what sounded like a muffled curse before Angel walked out, oven-mitted-hands on his hips.

Flirt Mode: Activated

“Hello again, Angel.” Angel blushed but his gaze stayed firm and unwavering.

“You are going to accept a muffin and drink without paying OR tipping today, mister!”

Anxiety smirked, sticking his tongue out to lick the lollipop. Angel watched the movement. “For a guy who probably owns this place, you seem pretty adamant about not earning money.” He licked the lollipop again before sticking the entire thing into his mouth. Angel stared, mouth open and cheeks red, for several seconds. Then his jaw snapped shut with an audible click. He sputtered for about a minute, cheeks still red, before Anxiety decided to grant him pity. He turned to Katherine, who looked like she was trying hard to not burst into giggles. “I’ll have a medium chai tea and… a strawberry muffin, please.” By the time he turned back, Angel seemed more put together, his cheeks still pink. “Now, I thought we got over this whole ‘don’t pay for your meal’ thing on Friday. So what gives?”

Angel’s back straightened slightly. “I talked it over with my… friends, and they gave me a confidence boost. I don’t want you to spend money today when you already spent too much last week. It would be immoral and unjust to do so.” His posture softened. “I won’t force you to not pay, but could you do so, just this once? Just to help clear my conscience.”

Anxiety thought for a moment, but not over Angel’s request. He didn’t want to tell me about his boyfriends. It’s not like he HAS to or anything, but why didn’t he tell me? He knows that I’ll back off if he says he’s taken. Unless he doesn’t want me to back off?

He smirked. “Alright, you win this one. If only because I don’t like seeing you upset. But I WILL be paying for tomorrow’s meal. Capiche?”

Angel gaped back at him. “Y-you’re coming back?”

Anxiety tilted his head in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I? The atmosphere’s nice, the food’s amazing, the staff’s kind, and the boss is beautiful.” He grabbed his meal, ignoring the beautiful Angel’s sputtering. “See you tomorrow, Angel. Katherine.”

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Anxiety smirked as he entered the library, making a beeline for the front desk. He was still feeling flirty from his interaction with Angel, so it didn’t take much to start flirting again. “Hey, Starlight. Think you can walk me back to the space section?”

Starlight blushed, finding someone to man the front desk before leading Anxiety back to the space section. He seemed to grow tenser with every step. By the time they reached the back of the library, Starlight was nearly shaking.

Anxiety put a hand on his arm. “Starlight?”

Starlight startled slightly, but he didn’t move away from his hand. “Yes?”

Anxiety frowned. “You were shaking there for a second. Something’s gotta be wrong. What’s messing with that pretty little head of yours?”

Starlight blushed, looking away. “Before we continue any of…this, I must let you know that I am currently in a romantic relationship.”

Anxiety’s grip slackened slightly. “Do you… want me to stop flirting? Because if you want me to, I will. But if you don’t well,” he grabbed Starlight’s hand, kissing his knuckle. “I would love to continue flirting with you.”

Starlight sputtered for a few seconds, and Anxiety thought that he might’ve gone too far. “I am… not opposed to you flirting with me.” He finally said, fingers brushing against Anxiety’s jaw. “I just assumed that you would wish to stop once you realized that I was already in a relationship.”

Anxiety smirked, fighting down the blush forming from the fingers on his jaw. “I only want to stop if you want me to stop. Until then, I am perfectly content to watch your face turn that pretty shade of red.” Before Starlight could get too flustered, Anxiety pulled back, gesturing to the shelves. “So, which book will you recommend today, Starlight? The book from Friday was pretty useful, but I think I need some more information.”

That visit to the library ended similarly to the visit on Friday. Anxiety read the book, asked a few questions, and flirted shamelessly with Starlight. He always felt a sense of satisfaction every time he got Starlight to turn tomato red (or Solanum Lycopersicum, as Lo called them). As 2 PM approached, Anxiety felt confident that Starlight wasn’t just letting him flirt out of politeness. Even when his face was bright red, he would smile and his eyes would light up. He was obviously passionate about the subject of space, and he also seemed to enjoy his brief banters with Anxiety. All too soon, Anxiety had to leave, so he put away his book and approached the front desk. “Hey, Starlight.”

Starlight smiled, typing something into the computer. “Hello again. I assume you’re leaving now?”

Anxiety smirked. “Yep. Just wanted to say goodbye before I left. Didn’t want you worrying your pretty little head over me.” He suppressed his laugh at Starlight’s blush. “Bye, Starlight. See you tomorrow.”

“Y-yes, farewell.”

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Virgil sighed as he left the library. He could go home and text his crushes, but he wanted to do something today that didn’t revolve around flirting or pining. He strolled down the street as he thought about the different men in his life. Patton, Logan, and Roman. Angel and Starlight. Three had names but no faces. Two had faces but no names. Three he was hopelessly in love with. Two he flirted with to get over his hopeless love. All five of them were slowly taking over his life. Virgil sighed, trying to take his mind off of them. He was just passing by one of the newer theatres when-

“Oof-” Apparently, someone decided to run out the same moment that Virgil walked passed, and now Virgil had an armful of stranger.

“I’m so sorry,” Stranger said, and he looked up and- oh.

Virgil looked down at Janus, who had drunkenly slapped some guy’s ass, and was currently groping it. Judging by the look in Janus’ face, he didn’t seem to realize that this wasn’t Remus. And judging by the look on stranger’s face, he was quickly realizing that Janus wasn’t whoever he originally thought was groping him. Virgil knew that Janus was too drunk to hold a decent conversation, so he quickly pulled Janus behind him. The stranger turned around and- oh, he’s a hot stranger.

Hot Stranger seemed to remember the moment too, since suddenly he was out of Virgil’s arms and scowling at him. “YOU!”

Flirt Mode: Activated

Anxiety smirked, eyeing Hot Stranger’s new attire. He wore a white prince costume with a red sash across the front. Yep, still hot. “Wow, Hot Stuff. How long’s it been? Three, four years?”

Hot Stranger (now upgraded to “Hottie”) blushed, jabbing his finger into Anxiety’s chest. “What are you doing here, you villainish fiend? Here to molest me again?”

Anxiety sighed, ignoring the finger that was bruising his chest. “First of all, I didn’t even touch you. Second of all, even if I did, why would I wait so long to come back and do it again? Third of all, how would I have known that you would be running out of a theatre at this exact moment?” He shrugged his shoulders. “This meeting was by complete chance, Hottie. I don’t regret meeting you again, but I had no intention of it.”

Hottie sputtered. “What do you mean, ‘I didn’t even touch you’? You groped me in the middle of a club!”

“No, I didn’t. My friend did. His boyfriend was getting drinks and you look a lot like him. He was too drunk to say ‘sorry for touching your ass, I thought it was my boyfriend’s’ so I took the blame.” He grabbed Hottie’s hand, gently removing it from his chest.

Hottie scowled, “Why should I believe you?”

Anxiety sighed, putting his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know, maybe because I have literally no reason to lie? It was years ago, and I don’t even go to clubs anymore. Why should I care if you think I’m lying?” He looked up at the sign. “I didn’t know they were doing Romeo and Juliet this year. Huh.”

“IF I believe you… what now?”

“Well, I would very much like to continue flirting with you, Hottie. That is if you’re okay with it?”

Hottie shuffled his feet. “Well, I’m in a relationship, so don’t think for a second that this will exceed casual bantering.”

Anxiety smirked, leaning forward slightly. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Hottie.”

Crash!

Hottie cringed, glancing back to the theatre. “I should go make sure they didn’t break anything.”

Anxiety sighed, leaning back. “Alright. Are you free for bantering anytime soon?”

Hottie blushed. “My lunch break is always at 2:30. And don’t get any funny ideas! This is just casual banter between acquaintances. Nothing more.” And with that, Hottie left. Virgil sighed, heading home. He had ALOT to rant about.

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V- (3:30 PM) Hey, J? Remember that hot guy you groped?

J- (3:31 PM) Virgil, you already cashed in that favor. You got a katana for your “Princey” remember?

V- (3:31 PM) I’m not trying to cash it in

V- (3:31 PM) I found Hottie

Re- (3:31 PM) Wait, let me guess

Re- (3:32 PM) You explained what happened, you flirted with him, and now you have a new crush

V- (3:32 PM) Wow, just take all the fun out of it

J- (3:33 PM) Goddamit Virgil

J- (3:33 PM) What are we going to do with you?

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Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst

#useless gays #sanders sides fic #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders

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13dead-ends · 4 years

Text

Train Ride

Young Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: You’ve known Henry for years and after high school you decide to go on a trip of a lifetime. Your longtime crush on him only gets worse as the trip goes on.

Word Count: 4531

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please wear a condom, folks), oral/face riding, swearing, teeth rotting fluff at the end,

A/N: So my first smut is here! It’s shortish, but I liked it, Also @hellcaster901 said it was good so I posted. This fic literally came from a picture of Henry Cavill I sent to her. Thanks for encouraging me to post anything and everything!

Enjoy!! <3

I stared at Henry in as he ran down the beach into the water. His back muscles glinted in the sun as he came back up, hair wet and trunks clinging to his thighs. I swallowed, adjusting my position in the beach chair, the umbrella keeping me from frying completely. While my skin had burned plenty of times on this trip, Henry’s had only gotten golden brown. Only a burn every now and then on his nose and cheeks. I sighed. Why do I notice every little detail about Henry? I shook my head and went back to my book; staring was starting to get creepy. I couldn’t really focus on it though, the heat, and the waves, and other things distracted me. Henry’s my best friend. We’ve known each other since middle school and decided to go backpacking a few years after we graduated high school. We were on country four now. The Bahamas had treated us nicely, but it was our last day here. We had decided on America next, we would fly to New York and spend a few days there, then travel the country by train or bus. We were kind of winging it a little, but it was nice. Especially with him.

I had fallen head over heels for him in 11th grade. When we were younger I didn’t see him as more than a friend, but when came back from living with his uncle that summer, something hit me. More like punched me in the gut. I don’t know what it was or why, but here I am, almost three years later and still feeling butterflies from just him looking at me. I shut my book, I had reread the same paragraph a thousand times. I set it on my towel and sunk in my chair, soaking in the heat, and shutting my eyes.

“Y/N,” Henry had walked up so quietly that I jumped when he spoke. “You should get in, it’s perfect.” I opened my eyes, and there was Henry still out in the sun, drying off. I tried to calm my heart down a little with a breath.

“I will, I’m just enjoying the heat for a little.”

“Did you put on sunscreen?” Henry had not let the fact that I had turned lobster red in Egypt go. I had forgot to put on sunscreen when we went to the pyramids. He teased me, but he also liked to check in on me.

“Yes, mom.” He chuckled and it was like music to my ears. “Did you?” I pulled my sunglasses down and stared at him.

“Yes, ma’am.” He plopped down on the towel next to me, getting a water out of the cooler. Before opening it he pressed the cold thing on my thigh and I yelped, flinching away.

“Fuck off,” but I was laughing. He handed the bottle to me and got out another one. I drank a long swig and stared at his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.

“Any places in America that are a must-see?” He leaned back, laying on the towel, his abs flexed under his skin.

“New Orleans, that’s for sure. I’m also dragging you to a broadway show in New York.” I had gotten tickets to A show I thought we’d both like.

“Fine, but you’re bungee jumping with me.” I pursed my lips, jumping off a bridge did not seem like fun, but then I imagined doing it with Henry, and it didn’t seem too bad. “I want to see the Grand Canyon.”

“Me too. I want to go to Denver too.”

“You wanna buy weed don’t you?” He laughed out loud.

“Yes I do! And there’s nothing wrong with that.” I laughed. We discussed possible destinations and then he dragged me into the water. It was nice, though the salt stung my eyes. It was fun to be with him.

…

I rubbed my eyes as I walked behind Henry as we filed off the plane it was a long flight, but we made it. I was just exhausted. We were taking the rest of the day to rest, our Air BnB sounded like heaven right now. Henry was almost to the flight attendants at the door of the plane. I noticed the two ladies who had ran the flight whispering as we approached.

“Thank you, ladies,” Henry said as he passed, and they grinned and told him to have a good day and safe travels. When he was off, and I was walking past them I only got a thank you for flying with us. I scoffed a little and rolled my eyes. I stepped off the plane and moved up, so I was side by side with Henry.

“As soon as we get there I’m sleeping.” I still felt my eyes droop with tiredness.

“Did you sleep on the plane?” Henry had slept through most of the flight. I couldn’t sleep on planes.

“Nope,” I sighed.

“Well, you sleep, I’ll get some food and things for the next few days.”

“Okay, sounds good.” We went through the motions of customs and airport craziness, then took a cab to the place. It was still daylight, but as soon as I saw my room, I was out.

The next day we went around the city and did touristy things. I got a good picture of Henry looking out onto Times Square without him knowing. He looked so good with his curly hair, grown out a little longer than usual and skin glowing from the Bahama sun. I smiled at him as he took in all the signs and logos flashing on the screens.

“When’s the show?” I was pulled out of my trance as he turned back around to face me.

“Tonight, at seven.” He nodded. “We can go eat and just go straight there.” We ate a small bar we found and then went to the show. Us only bringing what was necessary we didn’t have fancy clothes to wear. I had a sundress and Henry honestly just wore a nicer looking T-shirt and pants. We didn’t care anyways.

“My lady,”Henry held out his arm for me as I got out of the cab. I took it and stood. In front of me was the Broadway theatre and I grinned.

“Oh my god, Henry I’m so excited.” He chuckled.

“It’d better be good.” He teased.

“I hope you like it, I tried to pick something we’d both like.” He nodded, pulling me closer to his side as people walked past.

“I’m sure I will. Shall we?” He led me up the steps and to our seats. They weren’t the best, but I still couldn’t wait. As the lights went down and the show started, I felt Henry’s eyes on me. I turned to him and he was staring at me.

“What?” I tilted my head at him.

“Nothing, just watch the show.” I squinted at him and turned back to the stage. The show was amazing, cheesy broadway songs were already stuck in my head as the curtains closed for intermission. Henry and I went out to have a drink before it started back up again.

“Please tell me you like it a little bit?” I nudged Henry as I sipped on my wine. Already feeling the usual warmth alcohol gave me.

“I like it but stop worrying about me. This was really for you anyways.”

“I know but I want you to have fun too.”

“I am.” He looked at me. “This is the best trip anyone could ask for.” I grinned and hugged his neck. He squeezed my waist, his strong hands sending shivers down my spine.

“I’m so glad we did this.” I muttered only for him to hear.

After the show, I was tipsy, and we decided to just walk back to our place. It had cooled down and it felt nice on my hot skin. I always got like this when I drank. Henry on the other hand held his drink well and walked beside me, looking beautiful in the street lamps.

“Okay now you’re staring at me.” I turned to look straight ahead, and he chuckled.

“I think we have a staring problem.” I joked, but I knew I did. “We’re just that beautiful.” He was that beautiful. “I mean I do but look at you.” I punched his shoulder, which hurt me more that it did him.

“Shut up, as if you didn’t notice those guys staring at you on the plane.”

“What guys?” Henry wasn’t looking at me when he spoke.

“They were a few isles down and I could feel them looking at us, well you.” I blinked.

“I didn’t see them.”

“I did, they were like vultures.” I glanced at him, but his face was blank. I was too busy noticing those flight attendants to notice those guys. “I can’t believe you didn’t see them.” I shrugged.

“Maybe I was distracted,” I mumbled.

“Don’t mumble like that.” He shook his head. “You sounded like you did in middle school.”

“We agreed we wouldn’t talk about middle school me.” I laughed.

“I’ve just been thinking about when we first met and how we are now. It’s so different.” I wrapped an arm around him, well not really around him he was so big now.

“Don’t get sappy on me now Cavill.” I squeezed him.

“No, I’m just glad, that we’re still friends. Seriously.” I swallowed but pushed a smile onto my lips.

“So am I, Henry.” I really was, I couldn’t live without him in my life, so if that had to be as his friend then I was okay with that, but I would still love him. I let my arm fall back to my side. “Ha, remember that time you asked Kim out in tenth grade.” He rolled his eyes and pursed his lips together. “You’re telling me I mumbled, she couldn’t hear a word.”

“I swear, little girl.” He grabbed my waist and I screamed, the nickname ringing in my ears. He lifted me off my feet and threw me over his shoulder.

“Henry, I’m wearing a dress you prick.” He held my skirt down, His arm right under my ass.

“I won’t let anyone see.” He chuckled and I huffed, arms swinging down. I did have a nice view of his butt from here.

“You were so nervous though.” He squeezed my thigh hard. “It’s okay, it was cute.” His grip lessened, but it was still holding me in place.

“At least I had you there to comfort me after rejection.”

“You gotta put me down if I you want me here for future rejection.” I don’t think he’d ever have a rejection again. He wasn’t that 16 year old anymore. He set me back down but kept his hands on my waist.

“And I you. Just like I was there for the Jacob break up.” My face dropped, and I shoved him. We walked back to the apartment teasing each other and when we got back, I pretty much passed out.

. . .

I swallowed at the tiny train compartment. It was close quarters for the two of us. Henry was towering over me as he shoved our bags in the top compartment above the small couch that would eventually turn into the bed. His chest was brushing up against mine, my neck felt hot and I turned my face to the side so my nose wouldn’t brush his shirt.

“There,” He shut the compartment and smiled down at me. “I’m excited.” I cleared my throat and sat down on the couch, Henry plopping down with me.

“Me too, it’s just smaller than I thought.” He just shrugged, looking out the window at the city.

“This train stops almost every day, and there’s a lounge to go to. We don’t have to be in here the entire ride.” I nodded.

“I know, but you work out too much and you’re gonna suffocate me when we sleep.” I almost choked at the thought. We were sharing a bed. I hadn’t shared a bed with Henry since we were kids. I stared at my feet.

“Is that how I get rid of you?” I kicked him. “Stop hitting me when you don’t have a comeback.”

“Stop teasing me and I’ll stop hitting you.” He leaned forward our noses almost touching.

“Never, love.” I may as well be putty. I’d let this man tease me all he wanted if it meant being with him. I moved back before I could do something stupid. Henry blinked once and leaned back as well. The train started moving and Henry got us some snacks and drinks from the restaurant car. I could breathe for a second when he was gone. I rested my head on the back of the chair. He was gonna kill me. I chewed on my lip. The worst part was that the only person I wanted to get advice from was the one I was freaking out about in the first place. I leaned forward my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. I rubbed my temples and tried to relax.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Henry came back inside, and the room got smaller.

“Nothing,” I sat up, flipping my hair back. “I think I’m tired.” Henry sat down and rubbed my back.

“I bet,” His hand stayed on my back. “We can put the bed down now; we both could use some sleep.” I swallowed, that was the opposite of what I wanted, well not really, but I couldn’t handle that yet.

“Well, if you’re not tired, we can leave it up, so it doesn’t take up so much space.”

“No, I’m tired too. We can just eat and take a nap for the ride.” He handed me a bowl of grapes.

“Okay,” We ate, and Henry told me about this game he got for his laptop, but I was trying not to have a panic attack, staring into my grapes, disassociating a little.

“Alright, you’re zoning out.” Henry was waving a hand in my face. “Time for sleep.” Henry managed to get the cushions in the right spots and made the pillows fluffy and ready for us.

“Get in,” I looked at him, but crawled into the blanket, it wasn’t the most comfortable, but I did feel sleep start to tug at my brain as I laid my head down. Henry came in next to me, his side brushing mine. He barely fit without me being squished against the wall. I couldn’t help but giggle at his awkward movements in the bed. He was just so big.

“Shut up,” Then my giggles stopped as he slid his arm around my waist, pulling my back flush against his chest. I felt like I couldn’t catch my breathe. “I think this is the best way we fit.” His voice was right at my ear and goosebumps rose down my arms. “Relax, Y/N. It’s just me.” He squeezed me once.

“Sorry,” I pressed my warm cheek into the pillow.

When I woke up it was dark in the train, the curtains were closed, but a small bit of light peaked out from underneath. I wasn’t turned towards the wall anymore, my nose brushed Henry’s chest as he breathed deeply. He smelled like cologne and nostalgia. I shut my eyes again and pressed my face into his chest. He was asleep, so who cares? A gravelly ‘hmm’ made my heart lurch.

“Someone’s cuddly,” Henry’s voice was low and close. My heart started beating fast I looked up at him. “Hey, there she is.” He smiled at me and my legs felt like jello. He furrowed his brows at me.

“Henry, I-“ I cleared my throat, not knowing what came over me. He brushed my hair out of my face and my stomach flipped.

“What?” He kept his hand on my cheek, his blue eyes glinting in the dim light. “Tell me, please.” I pulled myself up and just kissed him. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for him to push me away, but instead he pulled me closer. I let out a gasp and he just pressed into me harder. His tongue made its way in my mouth and I hooked a leg around his hip. “Finally,” He growled as he moved his mouth to my neck.

“Finally?” I titled my head back, breathless, but he stopped.

“Yes, finally. I’ve wanted you for so long, Y/N.” He continued kissing my neck and slid his hand down my side, landing on my breast, he kneaded it and I moaned out. “You’ve just been too distracted to notice.” He finished but wouldn’t let me respond by kissing my mouth again. I gripped his T-shirt, pulling him even closer.

“I wanted you too.” I sounded airy and out of breath as I spoke, he kissed me all over my face.

“That’s music to my ears.” He started peeling my top off, but a loud rap came at the door. We froze in place, the top covering my face.

“Dinner’s ready in the dining car.” An attendant called. I rolled my eyes.

“Alright, thank you.” Henry replied and when we heard the footsteps fade away, he ripped the shirt of the rest of the way. “Do you mind if we miss dinner?”

“No,” I moaned out as he kissed my collar, making his way down to my breast. “Henry,” I moaned his name as he unhooked my bra and let his lips surround my nipple. I threaded my fingers through his hair, feeling tingles shoot over my skin from his lips. I pulled him back up and kissed him, holding his cheeks so he wouldn’t pull away. I never wanted him to go away. He wrapped his big arms around me, enclosing me inside. He grunted when I pulled his hair.

“Take your shirt off,” I pulled my hand out of his hair to tug at his sleeve. He immediately tugged it off and I ran my hands down his chest. He groaned.

“Fuck,” He held my waist, his fingers digging into my skin, then suddenly one of them dipped down into my shorts and he grabbed my ass, hard. I gasped in his mouth, and he grinned. He pulled me closer and I felt his bulge press against the inside of my thigh, and I quivered. He felt so big already and his pants weren’t even off. He pushed his other hand under my waist band and pushed the shorts down, he let me kick them off and then rolled over on top of me. My chest heaved, I felt hot, and Henry’s lips looked red and swollen. He was propped up on his hands, his knees pressing into my thighs. He stared down at me, only in my panties now. I wanted to look away from his blue eyes, but they almost glittered in what little light we had. “God, so beautiful.” He brushed a finger down my side and goosebumps rose in his wake.

“So are you.” I mumbled, his eyes shut, and he had a smile playing on his lips.

“Don’t mumble.” He was stern, but his hand brushing down my cheek made me smile. He leaned down and kissed me, his hands held my waist down as I tried to arch my back.

“Henry,” I whined, letting my hands slid down to his waistband. “Please get these off.” He smirked, but pushed the clothing off, his erection on full display. He was huge.

“Now you,” He hooked a finger in my panties and pulled them off. “I swear, I’m gonna-“ He stopped.

“What?” He looked me up and down. “Henry, you’re taking too long.” I tried pulling him back to me, but he stopped me.

“I’m trying to decide how I want you.” I bit my lip his words sending shocks through me, and then he grabbed my waist flipping us over. Now I was straddling him and my hands were on his chest, my hair hung over our faces. He tucked it behind my ear and kissed me, but not for very long. He grabbed my waist tightly and moved me slowly up so that my pussy was over his face.

“Fuck, Henry,” I rested my elbow on the wall of the train. Was Henry about to eat me out? Like this? On a fucking train.”

“Is this okay, baby?” He rubbed the back of my thighs gently.

“Yes, yes. Very okay.” I sounded like a child, but he just laughed, the air hitting my core.

“You’re already so wet. Is that all for me?” I could only moan back. “What a good girl.”

“Henry, can you please-“ I was cut off by his mouth on my pussy. I covered my mouth to keep from the entire train from hearing me.

“Is that what you wanted?” He whispered, then went back to kissing and licking me. My legs were quivering, Henry’s hands were doing most of the work holding me up. “God, you taste so good.” I whimpered under my hand.

“Henry,” I felt like I was gonna burst. “I think I-“ His mouth stopped and he pushed me back and his cock slid through my folds. I moaned out and he grunted. I fell over, my forehead on his chest.

“Fuck, I want to feel you.” Henry growled in my ear.

“Please, I want to feel you too.” I kissed his chest, feeling sticky with sweat.

“So many pleases, what a polite girl.” His hand slid down between us and he positioned the tip of his cock at my entrance. I took a shaky breath. “Are you ready baby?”

“Yes,” My eyes closed as I felt his head push into me. “Fuck, oh my god-“ I was a mess above him, but as he entered into me fully he pushed me up, so I was sitting on him.

“Fucking hell, Y/N.” I must’ve looked insane, but he smirked up at me. He gripped my hips and started moving them for me. He was so large that every new movement made him brush a new part of me. I was going to snap. “Yes, there you go.” He grunted and groaned as he fucked me and it only added more pleasure. I loved hearing him. He picked up the pace, thrusting into me now. I arched my back.

“Please make me cum, Henry,” I was out of breath as I spoke, my chest heaved for air.

“God, yes, baby girl. Cum for me.” That was all I needed; bliss washed over me as a came. My legs pressed into Henry and my hands fisted over the blankets. “Good girl,” I collapse over him, my body flopping over his. He locked his arms around me, our skin pressing together, and he thrusted up into me until he came inside me. I whimpered at the overwhelming feeling having only just come down. He grunted in my ear as he fell over the edge, the sound sending tingles through me. We were panting together, my face pushed into his neck. He released me from his arms, and then pulled me off of him. I shivered as I felt the emptiness without him.

“You okay, sweet girl?” He ran his fingers through my hair, and I nuzzled closer.

“Yeah, I am.” I whispered. He moved me off him and kissed me.

“Let’s clean you up, okay?” I could only nod, feeling too tired to do much else. He got a towel and wiped away his mess for me, and then started kissing me. Fluttery little kisses up my stomach, in between my breasts. I giggled as he reached my neck. He threw the towel on the floor and kissed my lips. I looped my arms around his neck, smiling into his mouth. “Why didn’t I do this sooner?” He pulled away and laid beside me, pulling me to his side. His kissed the top of my head.

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” I drew circles in his chest and the sweat on my body started to cool.

“I tried to give you hints.” He chuckled. “I literally invited you to kiss me earlier.” I smacked his chest and sat up, feeling goosebumps rise, it was getting chilly. “Hey, where are you going?” I crawled over Henry, my knees on one side and my hands on the other. I picked up his shirt from the ground and pulled it on. I barely had my head through the hole before Henry pulled me back to his chest.

“I’m completely oblivious.” I scoffed. I was too distracted by him to notice him. His arms were around me tight. I wrapped my arms around his waist, and he pulled up the blankets.

“It’s okay, you finally figured it out.”

I woke up in the big spoon position with Henry. I grinned so hard my cheeks hurt. He liked me too. He wanted me too. I pressed my nose into his back, wrapping my legs around him, resembling a koala bear. His large hand slid over my arm grabbing my hand.

“Hey baby,” His voice was low with sleep.

“Good morning.” I replied. He turned around to face me, he was smiling, and his eyes looked extra blue. He wrapped me up in his arms around me and I kissed his lips. We were making out like teenagers for a while and then my stomach growled.

“Shit, we missed dinner.” Henry chuckled.

“Shall we get breakfast then?” Henry sat up and opened the curtains. I squinted at the bright sun. The train hadn’t stopped the entire night.

“Can we bring it back here?” I wanted it just to be me and him for a while, and I’m pretty sure I’d be waddling down the train car. I laid on my back, hands over my stomach, watching the scenery go by.

“How about I just go get it? You can stay in my shirt a little longer.” He kissed my nose and got dressed and went out. When his footsteps were gone I squealed into my pillow. Part of me thought it was all a dream, but he was here and didn’t reject me. The rest of this trip would be completely different. It wasn’t long before he came back with a pile of food. We didn’t bother putting the bed away, we were sitting on it and cuddling anyway. When the train started to slow down, we had finished eating and Henry had gotten his laptop out and I got dressed. He wanted to show me how to play some game. He was sitting against the wall and I was in between his legs, the laptop on my lap. His arms reach around me to show me how to use the keys.

“Henry you know I’m not good at these.” He chuckled.

“I know, it’s just fun seeing you try.” I rolled my eyes.

“Where are we again?” I looked out the window as the train stopped. Henry shut his laptop, setting it aside and getting out of bed.

“Let’s go find out.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the room.

#henry cavill x oc #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill #fanfiction #oneshots #junewrites

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clairecrive · 5 years

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"Insecurities" - Eames x reader (Part 2) [Requested]

I'm sorry for the long wait. I made it super long to make up for it. Anon and @kingarthurscat I hope this is what you had in mind when you made the request or that at least you like it. Can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

requests are always open!

Tag list: @mollybegger-blog (let me know if you wanna be added)

A/n: Prompts are in bold.

The very reason you had been picked to be a part of the group was your ability to became whoever they needed you to be. It wasn't quite like Eames who could really become that person, it was more like an interpretation of a character. Like an actor would do, only you wouldn't be performing in a movie or a theatre. Usually very shy and stubborn you weren't so keen on putting yourself out there the way they had asked you to. But the need for money and your acting skills collected through the high school years as a way of getting more credits did the trick and with a little convincing on Dom's part, you were one of them.

Tonight was no different, you left your shy and awkward self in your hotel room, ready to be Sandy, a confident outspoken entrepreneur, for the rest of the night. The job was very easy to be honest, even though you usually hated when they used you just for your "womanly weapons" as Dom called them. However, being the only woman on the team, your input was required and there wasn't much you could do.

The plan was very simple: distract the wealthy, sneaky Arabian entrepreneur while Eames took whatever information he needed and then make your exit quickly and smoothly when Eames would give you the signal that it all went according to plan.

Flirting with wealthy men was quite the same every time. If you asked them about their job or a thing they have that makes them proud you could have them talking for hours on end. You would just have to throw a smile or a small laugh at the right time and that would be it. Easy job right? The fact that sometimes the men would be smoking hot it's just a bonus. They were boring but at least they were pretty to look at.

Much to your delight, this night, Azir was not only very handsome but he had a few interesting ideas too. Maybe you had been enjoying yourself too much, really engaged in a conversation with him, that you didn't notice Eames trying to catch your attention at first.

Over the years, you had come up with a complex sign language that would allow you to communicate in tricky situations without making a sound. Just a movement of an eye or a finger and the message or warning had come across. So when you noticed the English lad walking towards you while scrunching his nose, you knew that he needed a diversion.

"What is happening here?" He approached you and Azir that was quite startled by Eames' appearance. Thinking he was going for an angry/jealous boyfriend you played along.

"What are you doing here?" You asked feigning a shocked expression.

"I told you that I had a business meeting tonight, but you failed to mention that you'd also be here flirting with a stranger." He explained getting worked up.

"First of all, this is not a stranger, his name is Azir. Second, I didn't tell you because I didn't think you'd have cared."

"In what twisted universe I would not care about my fucking fiancée flirting with a man that's not me?!"

"Wait, what? What are you talking about mate? She doesn't have a ring." Azir chimes in, apparently disturbed by the idea of being accused to flirt with an engaged woman. Nice to see you have morals Azir, not just a pretty face uh.

"Where is your ring Y/N?" Eames inquired staring intently at your naked ring finger

"Funny you should ask, still keeping up with this game I see. It's not endearing anymore, cut it."

"What the hell are you on about?" He looked at you as if you had suddenly grown three heads, glancing towards Azir for support.

"I was so thrilled that after eight years you had finally found the guts to propose to me, that I couldn't wait to share the news with everyone I have ever shared a word with. Also to let them see the beautiful ring you gave me. Imagine my surprise when Karen comes up to me and say: "Do you know that the diamond in your engagement ring is fake?" Of course, I didn't believe her, she had always been jealous of me. But she insisted so to prove her wrong, I stepped on it. Diamonds, real diamonds, are unbreakable. But the one you gave me fell apart like a bread crumble." For added emphasis you turned to Azir, "can you believe it? A fake engagement ring!"

The poor lad had been swapped in this mess and was so lost that if someone had asked him his name right now, he probably couldn't be able to answer right.

"So what if the diamond was fake? My intentions behind the gesture were not."

"Do you even still love me?" You asked scoffing at his words. Noticing three bulky men storming into the hall you were in, you gather your things and without glancing towards both men, you stormed off into a hallway on your right knowing that Eames was hot on your trail. You turn around to see if you were safe but before you could check his hand wraps around your arm and drags you into a dark room to your left. The door closed behind you leaving you standing in the dark catching your breaths.

"Were they still behind us?" You whisper just in case they were close. You couldn't see him in the dark but even if you felt him close to you, when he put his hand on your mouth to shush you it still caught you off guard. Well then, I'll take that as a yes. Even if you couldn't see his face, being this close to him that you could feel his breath on your cheek, made your mind wander and suddenly you were thankful for the dark otherwise your reddening cheeks would sorely stand out and Eames would tease you endlessly.

Turns out that you spoke too soon seeing as, while you were lost in your daydream, he must have drawn out his phone, because a light suddenly shone in the room. It was a janitor closet because at your feet there were cloths and buckets. It was indeed a small space as you've presumed, your chests were touching and if he wasn't taller than you, your noses or worse mouths would too. This realisation certainly didn't help your blushing situation.

"Is there a reason why you're blushing like that?" He asked and really, you knew it was coming.

"Can we get out, please? I think we're safe." You said trying to play it cool. The twinkle in his eyes made his amusement very clear to you, nevertheless he spared you and moved his hand to the door handle. Much to your dismay, it wouldn't budge, even when he tried with more force. Eventually, he had to stop and admit defeat. He turned to you and almost as if you had rehearsed it you exclaim at the same time:

"Well shit."

Groaning you lower yourself to the ground while he wrote something on the phone, probably asking for some help but you know that you'd be here for a while if you had to wait for one of the guys to rescue you. Sensing your discomfort he sat beside you and you knew that he was going to confront you about your weird behaviour. Being observant was part of his job, nothing went past him unnoticed, he was the best in his field for a reason after all.

"So, since we have a lot of time to spare, will you tell me what's wrong darling?" As you predicted he asked softly. Having worked alongside one another for quite some time together with his observant self, made Eames one of the person who knew you best. It wasn't something you were happy about but it was a fact.

"Oh that was Sandy, Eames. Don't need to worry about a fuss over a fake ring." You joked trying to deflect. Classic textbook move and he knew it.

"That was a good stunt out there, not going to lie, but you know I wasn't talking about that. You've been acting weird since we've come out of the room." He insisted. You knew Eames so you were conscious that if you told him to let it go he wouldn't press you but for some reason, you needed to know if he saw you. I mean even if he did, it wasn't a big deal right? No one was perfect and as you were painfully aware of his annoying habits now he knew that you hadn't a perfect body. You could live with that. Conforming to the standard norms of beauty wasn't something you had to do. Besides, nothing was ever going to happen between you. So even if you had a crush on the man and your constant bickering was more subtle flirting, why do you care so much about what he thinks of you? Yes, he probably has been with a lot of breathtaking women but that didn't mean anything. You couldn't compare yourself to other, imaginary in this case, women. It's not a healthy thing to do and besides everyone is beautiful in their own way. You knew that it's just that most of the times you have trouble applying that way of thinking to yourself.

Well then, here goes nothing. This pep talk is pointless if you don't address the elephant in the room. And so gathering all your courage, you did. But wait- how exactly am I going to go about this?

"So, you know that I'm usually very quiet and reserved right?"

"Yes, I know how important your private space is to you. I promised I've not touched anything." He said reminiscing that time when you literally went ballistic when you saw him entering into your room without your permission.

"I know you've learned your lesson don't worry, I wasn't referring to that."

"Then what's the matter?"

"I'm not saying you did it on purpose but have you, by any chance, stumbled upon a very naked me early today in the bathroom?" I finally let out not meeting his eyes. I think it's a fair question to make, sure the answer won't change the fact that he saw me if he did but at least I'll stop wondering about it. However, Eames was known to be very unpredictable so you hoped that he wouldn't feel offended about it nor that he'd tease you for it. For a little while, he didn't say anything but you could feel his eyes on you. Knowing him he was probably studying you and thinking about what to say.

"Will you go mad hatter crazy on me if I tell you that I accidentally took a peak? I honestly thought that you were done and telling me that I could enter when you opened the door. However, I didn't do it maliciously or anything. It just happened, I'm sorry." He explained confirming your assumptions. So he did see you. Now what? However stupid it may sound, you believed him when he said that it was an accident. How different could my body from others anyway? Pretending to not be affected by his confession you just shrugged your shoulders muttering a quiet "it's okay". Needless to say, it was not okay. How were you going to look at him now that you knew he's seen you in your most vulnerable state? Ugh, why did you have to be so complexed? Couldn't you be just as easy going as Sandy? Life would surely be easier.

"If it's okay, then why won't you look at me, darling?" He insisted. Gosh, why won't he let this go?

"There's literally no light in here, how do you know if I'm not looking at you?"

"Because I know you and apparently this held a deeper meaning to you than you want me to know. You should know by now though, that I notice everything. Besides, how can we still work together if you refuse to look at me?"

"I can pretend to be a different person then so there's no problem." you mutter jokingly

"There's no need to pretend with me. We're room buddies!" He said making you laugh. He could be so silly sometimes.

"You can always be yourself with me you know. To be honest, you should never be afraid to be you but I know that that's a tough thing to do. However, I thought I was part of the gang now. That you trusted me and all."

"I do trust you, Eames. I wouldn't be working with you if I didn't. And yes you're part of the gang but neither of them has seen me naked you naked."

"And that changes things how?"

"You have seen me in my most vulnerable and truest form. No filter, no pretending no anything. I can't imagine I was a very pleasant view. I'm just ashamed, that's all."

"You shouldn't be. I didn't think you'd be so insecure about yourself, that only proves how good at your job you are, honestly, but if it makes you feel better, I really like what I saw."

"Yeah sure. Don't need to flatter me to make me feel better. I'm not delusional."

"No, but it seems that you're blind. I thought that my scandalous and obvious flirting was a dead giveaway of me liking you."

"Oh shut up, you flirt with every living thing. It does not make me special." You sassed because it was true. You actually thought he was into Arthur before realizing that he was like that, flirting seemed to be the only way of communication he knew.

"You don't need my validation to consider yourself special. You are no matter what I or any other guy says. Although, you shouldn't really question me. You know I'm always right."

"Could your ego be bigger?"

"Hey, I'm trying to help you here. No need to insult my ego. But it's not the only big thing I have if you know what I mean."

"You know what? I really appreciate your wise words but I think it's best if we wait for whoever you called in silence. Your ego is already sucking up all the air in this cubicle." you said nudging his shoulder letting him know that you were joking. Who would have guessed that he could manage to make your doubts disappear just with a few silly words?

He seemed to have understood because he wrapped his arm around you and you rested your head on his shoulder, getting comfortable beside him. The silence between you now wasn't uncomfortable but very welcomed, you knew he wouldn't be quiet for long so you enjoyed it while it lasted, your insecurities long forgotten.

#eames imagine #eames imagines #eames x you #eames x reader #eames inception #eames #eamea fanfiction #eames fanfic #eames fic #inception fanfiction #tom hard #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy x reader

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gleekto · 4 years

Text

Summary: College AU/Famous!Blaine and Fanboy!Kurt - Kurt POV

Kurt really doesn’t have time to figure out the dating world between being a freshman at prestigious theatre school, LAADA, and his active but secret blogging life in the Sing!Fandom. So what if Sing! ended last year? There are still fics to read and actors to follow. Especially the uber talented heartthrob lead, Blaine Anderson. He can act. He can sing. He can even dance. He’s gay. He’s out. And he’s only 24. Kurt is willing to twiddle his thumbs and click refresh until Blaine Anderson’s next project.

He just didn’t expect the next project to be on his roommate Rachel’s new TV show.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

Even Better than the Real Thing (11/13)

Well, so much for finally getting a decent night of sleep.

Night three of Kurt’s staring at the ceiling is, however, significantly better than the first two. Kurt reads Blaine’s text over and over again, Some rules are made to be broken, as if it will somehow reveal its hidden meaning. Which, as Mercedes texts to Kurt the next morning, really isn’t that hidden.

Kurt: What could he mean?

Mercedes: Kurt, he practically spelled it out for you.

Kurt: He said he wouldn’t have asked me out if he had known. Golden rule.

Mercedes: Rules that are sometimes made to be broken.

Kurt: What should I do? Should I-

Mercedes: Oh shit.

Kurt: What now?

Mercedes: Kurt, you better get on tumblr right now-

Kurt: I don’t have a blog anymore. What?

Mercedes starts sending him screen caps of her dashboard. The picture already has 343 reblogs. Blaine Anderson with a fan at the Coffee Bean in Los Angeles...and that random guy he was with sitting as inconspicuously as possible in the corner. Oh god.

I spy with my little eye a potential new boy with him...

Oh I see him! He’s cute. (Thanks. He’ll take it). Same age-ish? Maybe younger? Definitely isn’t a friend we’ve seen before. I think something is happening...

Oh there he goes queerbaiting again. This time coffee with a well dressed friend (Thank you?). Could he be any more obvious?

OH MY GOD THAT IS @LIMABLAINEFAN!! I swear guys. I met him at the Sing!Con two summers ago. That is HIM. Literally having coffee with Blaine Anderson!! (Shit shit shit shit).

And fandom, the story is heating up because we obviously all remember that @limablainefan stopped posting a little while ago because of a conflict with a “friend” who knew Blaine and he DELETED his blog yesterday.

What? omg limablainefan deleted? I’m so sad. I love him and I love his blog. (Well, thanks).

Mercedes: At least you’re loved?

He’s fucking dating him. How can Blaine Anderson be dating a fan? Like a fan who drooled over him for years. There must be a law against this.

Kurt: Well, that’s it. So much for a second chance. Blaine is going to hate everything about this.

Mercedes: He probably won’t love it.

Kurt: Ugh Mercedes. What do I do?

Mercedes: Tell him, obviously. After all that, no more lies, right? He was there. He knows the picture was taken. It is not actually your fault that it ended up on tumblr.

Kurt hates when Mercedes is right. Which is usually. Anyways, his overnight basking in Blaine’s suggestive text is over and it’s time to face the music. This was not exactly his hoped for song but alas. He responds underneath Blaine’s previously hopeful breaking the rules text.

Kurt: You may want to take back that offer.

He sends the screen cap of the pic in the coffee shop.

Kurt: The fan pic from the coffee shop ended up on tumblr. And I got recognized. With you.

Blaine texts back immediately. Shock face emoji. Cry-laugh emoji. Okay, this isn’t the worst sign.

Blaine: Two celebrities trying to have a normal adult conversation and suddenly it’s the talk of the town.

Kurt: Not sure tumblr is exactly front page news.

Blaine: Only for the Sing! fandom.

Kurt: So you knew about all us fans and our crazy?

Blaine: Of course. Well, not about you specifically. But generally, yes. How else would I know what outfits pop? Or who I’m rumoured to be dating?

Kurt sends him the screen cap discussions.

Kurt: Ugh. Sorry about this.

His phone buzzes and it’s Blaine. Calling him.

“This thing is not actually your fault.”

“I could have made sure I was not in that picture.”

“I knew you were there. Everything I do can end up on the internet - twitter, tumblr, paps. Last year, there were amazing pap pictures of me eating a banana in pajama bottoms and nothing else on a walk of shame the morning after the night before.”

“I remember those,” Kurt says it before he catches himself. “Though of course I didn’t know it was a walk of shame,” He adds quickly.

“Mr. Pink, actually.” Okay, Blaine’s not mad and now all Kurt can think of is Blaine gently peeling his banana after a steamy night in a terribly decorated bubblegum room.

“Of torrid sex fame?”

“I hope that part wasn’t on tumblr.”

“Nope. No one ever got a picture of you with Mr. Pink actually. ”

“I told you that you had one up on him.” Kurt thinks he hears a smile in Blaine’s voice. He couldn’t possibly think this is funny.

“You’re really not mad?”

“At you? No. This stuff happens. But please tell me that you are, in fact, 19?”

“Almost 20.”

“Okay, I’ll handle it.”

“Just to be clear - it’s the talk of Sing! Tumblr. Blaine Anderson dating a longtime fandom fan - he’s younger-”

“And well-dressed,” Blaine chimes in, reading the caps.

“Yes, well, I try. Seriously, though, we’ve got excitement, jealousy, speculation, denial - soon there will be fics-”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Kurt can hear comical amusement through the phone.

“X-rated ones,” Kurt adds for emphasis.

“I hope so or what’s the point? I better be good in bed,” Blaine says flatly. Kurt laughs, slightly scandalized. “Honestly, I’ll deal with it.”

“As long as you know that we are the current headline, and everyone is talking about Blaine Anderson and his younger fanboy tryst.” Kurt may be exaggerating slightly but over the top honesty is better than any more secrets.

“Fanboy tryst?” Blaine repeats.

Just as Kurt’s trying to think of something appropriately flirty but not too suggestive to say back, there’s a knock on his apartment door.

“Sorry, I have to get the door. Rachel’s filming all day. I’ll call you back in a sec.”

Or not. The door opens and Blaine is standing there with a smirk and flirty, amused eyes. He’s leaning casually against Kurt’s door post in tight blue jeans and a white t-shirt, slightly untucked.

“Let’s give ‘em something to talk about.”

#gleekto writes #even better than the real thing #wonder what comes next...

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butterbeeryuta · 5 years

Text

the tech guy

techie!xiaojun x historian!reader | oneshot series | fluff, slight angst | 2.3 k

summary: if there was anything people had to know about you, you were very clumsy. You were so clumsy to a point where you may have dropped your laptop and broke the screen. Of course, you brought it to the computer shop, and the tech guy did his shit. What he didn’t expect was for you to break your laptop on a weekly basis.

‘So what you’re telling me is, you tried to reach for the packet of Lotus biscuits on the top shelf, with your laptop on your left hand, and the moment you reached the biscuits, your laptop dropped?’ Yuqi, your roommate, asks as looks at you as if you were the dumbest person to ever breathe. Though if she did think so, she wasn’t exactly lying. You knew you should have left your laptop on some flat surface rather than your hand. You knew that your only talent was dropping things, or making a fool out of yourself by tripping on things unnecessarily. You couldn’t help but just be naturally clumsy.

‘Ok yes, I might have not been exactly careful—‘

‘_______ you dropped your laptop and broke the screen in exchange of biscuits.’ She says monotonously, as if she is trying to comprehend whatever you just told her.

‘I mean if you put in that way, then yeah, I did that. But Yuqi babe—‘

‘You’re an actual idiot, why didn’t you leave your laptop on a desk or something?’ She loudly asks, not bothering to listen to whatever defence you had. Which was honestly quite reasonable because you didn’t really have anything to defend yourself. You were just… you. Not wanting to hear whatever Yuqi has to say, or scold you, you placed your broken laptop down and cut her off.

‘Okay yes yes, I know I am in idiot. I know I should have placed it down, but Yuqi this was bound to happen someday, I just break shit—‘

‘Because you are so stupid—‘

‘Stop cutting me off! Anyway, it already happened and it’s not like you’re gonna pay for the repairing cost so tell me babe, do you know any tech place where I can ask someone to fix this?’ You desperately asked, pointing at your damaged laptop screen. Yuqi sighed, fully understanding that her getting angry at you won’t exactly change your extreme clumsiness. At the same time, who the fucking hell can be that clumsy?

‘Oh well I don’t know ______ I haven’t broken a laptop yet for trying to reach for some brown-coloured biscuits’ she sarcastically says, only earning a deep sigh from you. Thinking that your roommate’s great disappointment in you won’t go away, you decided to leave the shared space and go back to your room, and look for a repair shop by yourself.

‘Alright ______ I’m sorry, I know you’re a clumsy mess. I’m just worried that if you keep doing careless things, you won’t fix it’ she says, going towards you with her arms slightly open to hug your sulking frame. Not exactly sure what to say, you sort of just let her hug you, unsure if you should feel relieved that she will stop telling you off, or annoyed that you’re letting her be this affectionate towards you after bursting at you. Then again, a fraction of you felt that you needed to be told off for your clumsiness. This wasn’t your first time you drop such… valuable items. In Grade 9 your mother’s engagement ring slipped off your finger when you were planting a tree for service purposes. Then in your last year of schooling you accidentally dropped your friend’s camera in the sea when you and your friends were on a boat— it was a mess. The only good thing about your unnecessary clumsiness was that you at least admit it. You just nodded under Yuqi’s embrace, now thinking of ways to repair your laptop because you had a research paper due in a few days, and you only had to finish your conclusion. You were not willing to rewrite 7500 words in a matter of 72 hours. As if your roommate read your mind, she looked down at you currently smaller form.

‘You know, I know this guy whose really good at tech stuff. How ‘bout I give him a call about your laptop? I know you have your History paper due soon,’ she softly asks, hoping for a more cheerful response from you. You looked up at her immediately, very close to hugging her tightly for actually saying something useful.

‘Really? You’ll do that for me?’

‘Yes, why won’t I?’

‘Because you called me stupid for being a clumsy ass—‘

‘Okay yeah no Yuqi was being mean, I’m sorry bub.’ Well, at least you got some support from her roommate.

—————————————————————————————

If you remember correctly, Yuqi told you to turn left after you see your favourite stationery shop, and that if you keep walking straight, you’ll see a shop with the sign ‘Xiao Devices.’ And of course, you still managed to fuck up. Yuqi said to the tech guy that you’d come around at 4 in the afternoon. What was originally supposed to be a 10 minute walk turned into a 30 minute walk, making you 20 minutes late. Good on you _______. Despite your shitty navigation skills, you somehow made it to the store, and my dear, were there a lot of devices. The moment you enter the shop, it was gadgets stacked on top of another. You were beginning to wonder if the setup of the place was done for aesthetic purposes, but you felt as if you were about break something with how the store was setup.

‘Hello?’ You ask, slowly taking out your damaged laptop. Just as you were about to take out the mess you made, you felt someone coming out wherever they were. Turning to see who it was, you came to face probably one of the prettiest faces you have ever seen. He was a pretty lean guy, not too tall, but not short either. His dark hair was laying over his round glasses, making him look quite soft. In other words, he was attractive. He couldn’t be the tech guy, right?

‘You’re Yuqi’s friend? ______?’ He asks with his surprisingly deep voice, contrasting his soft features. His oversized knit sweater was not helping the fact that you thought he was some soft-spoken little guy that liked puppies, and was on a whole new level of nerdy. Then again, he probably could still be.

‘Uh, yeah. I am _______. And you’re Xiaojun?’ I confirmed, hoping that I did not mess up his name just like how I did last time with Yuqi’s ex-girlfriend. One year ago her ex came to your apartment to pick up Yuqi for a date, and you mistakenly called her Minnie instead of Miyeon, and you were very close to breaking them up. Now, the consequences will probably not be as big as what happened last year, but you still did not want to take the chance.

‘Yep, that’s my name. Yuqi told me that you broke your laptop, but she wouldn’t tell me how. She said something about how you were a better person to ask about how your laptop broke…?’ Well fuck. Of course I can, I can casually and confidently just say that my laptop fell out of my hand when I was trying to reach up for a biscuit with my other free hand. Yeah, I can totally say that. Fucking clumsy ass _________. Showing your broken laptop to Xiaojun, you took a deep breath and explained what led you to creating the product you were showing to him. You did not want to look at his disappointed face. You literally met this gorgeous guy for the first time, and you do not want your lungs to explode on the spot for your high quality embarrassment. After telling him your reason to why your laptop broke, you could feel his piercing eyes looking at your sulking frame. In your mind, he was piercing your body with a spear.

‘So you’re telling me that your hand just… gave up on you when you were reaching for the biscuits, and it just, crashed to the floor?’ Precisely Xiaojun. Precisely. You nodded slowly at him, unsure if you wanted to run away from the store and never come back and show your face to him ever again. ‘Well, that is a first for me. A much more interesting story than I expected to be honest. Come on ________, let’s take a quick look at what we can do.’ He says in a surprisingly cheerful tone, only causing you to look up at the pretty man immediately, only to see nothing but a smile on his face. Oh?

—————————————————————————————

‘Damn, you’re a History major? At fucking Tsinghua University? Damn, that’s really impressive,’ Xiaojun exclaims as he replaces your horrendously damaged screen. You were just telling him about how you needed your laptop to finish off you research on Japanese invasion of Korea, otherwise known as the Imjin War from 1592 to 1598. It was pretty interesting for you, but you didn’t exactly had the need to tell him about your research in full depth. You didn’t want to bore anyone with it, no matter how much that hurt to say that internally.

‘Well, thank you. How ‘bout you? When did you start being so… techie?’ You asked, watching him screwing the new laptop screen. Right after the words left your mouth, you felt him tense a bit from the way his gripped the screw harder. Did you say something wrong?

‘I was actually a theatre student, then my father passed away so I took over the shop…’ Oh. Unconsciously biting your lower lip, you were not sure what to say anymore. You weren’t even sure if you should talk. Deciding to stay quiet until he fixed your laptop, your head naturally dropped, your eyes watching your two thumbs fiddling with another. Xiaojun noticed your sudden change in posture; you were making yourself smaller. Taking in a deep breath, he knew that it wasn’t your fault to suddenly change the mood. You didn’t even know anything about it, you literally just met him. He couldn’t have expect you to know everything about him the moment the two of you exchanged looks.

‘It’s alright __________, you didn’t know. Now instead of keeping quiet over there, why don’t you tell me how the hell did you become roommates with that crazy ass friend of mine.’ He says, cutting the tension in the room to hopefully lighten the atmosphere. And he genuinely did wanted to make you feel at ease, you could tell with the way he looked at you. The moment you lifted your head, it was clear that he genuinely wanted to let you know that what you did was okay, and there was nothing to feel sorry about. You smiled at him, somewhat trusting his word, although you didn’t exactly know why you have to trust him in the first place. But, it just felt right.

‘U-um, it’s really nothing special’ you stuttered, trying to keep your shit together without trying to feel like pure crap. Which was already too late, but you still gave it a go. This tech dude was making you feel that you were alright for some reason. ‘I was looking for a roommate cause the apartment I currently live in is a bit pricey for one person. I kinda just asked my friends if they knew anyone who needed to move, and that’s honestly how I met Yuqi. She’s lovely, but she can be quite intimidating at some times. But lovely!’ Trying not to say anything wrong. You did not want to go through another mini meltdown.

‘Yuqi is scary as shit, that I can agree with. I don’t know about “lovely” though’ Xiaojun chuckles, and if you didn’t think you were falling for this tech guy, well you lied. His little chuckle only further complimented his soft aura, and his naturally nice personality just makes it even easier to just admire him.

————————————————————————

‘Alright here you go _______. Screen is brand and new, and zero cracks.’ Ha, thank you Xiaojun.

‘Well thank you, I honestly thought this would take more than a day to fix.’

‘It usually takes 1 hour, but yours took 3 hours to fix… so you weren’t wrong with the length of the time.’ Oh.

‘Right, of course. Well, thank you so so so much Xiaojun. How much does it cost again?’

‘Actually, you don’t have to pay. It’s alright ______.’ Your eyes widened at his words, what the fuck did her say? Ya’ll live in China for fucks’ sake, sure communism is a thing, but capitalism is still at the top.

‘I’m sorry what? It took your 2 more extra hours than usually and expensive ass crap to ease my clumsiness, I don’t think you want to get nothing in return.’ You said, not wanting to hear any more of his nonsense. He just smiles at you, closing your laptop and handing it to you.

‘Well if you put it that way, then yeah. I’ll give you a discount though, you made my job easier today despite the longer hours.’ It would be a lie to say that your cheeks didn’t go red from what he said. If he implied that your company made his job more fun, perhaps, you died internally. Perhaps. You handed the cash to the tech guy, only for you to leave his shop looking like a tomato with the image of his beautiful smile embedded in your brain. Goddammit Xiaojun.

If Xiaojun thought that was the last time we was able to see you, that would be a complete lie. Let’s just say that you were running to classes with your backpack zipper open, and only one of the straps were actually hanging for its dear life. And let’s just say that your laptop may have fell out, and fell flat on the concrete ground. Well, I guess you’re going to the tech guy again.

a/n: HELLLO EVERYONEEEEEEEE. so this took longer than i thought but here iT is. school has been closed for almost 2 weeks now because the virus, and i hope everyone else is taking care of their hygiene even more. yesterday was my birthday, but it honestly didn’t feel like it cause h a h a school decided to give us a load of shit to do since we had no school, so i was focusing on those. BUT BUT BUT BUT the KICK IT MUSIC VIDEOS JDNISDFNIJFNIJ anD the alBUM holy fuck actually what the literal fuck. taeil’s high note, MY BBY yuta has lines, haechan served, and fucking johnny... this is HIS era ya’ll. i really like elevator and pandora’s box the most, but lmao sit down is by far the most different(?) note euphemism djksjks idk how to explain it. kneeways, i hope ya’ll have a good day/night.

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mccarricks · 4 years

Photo

( brittany o’grady / demi woman ) WESLEY McCARRICK is 23 years old and is a SENIOR at thales university. SHE is majoring in FILM and is known for being THE MAVERICK as THEY can be HUMOROUS and OPEN-MINDED as well as DITZY and IMPULSIVE. every time i see HER/THEM, THEY remind me of PURPLE SKY IN THE DESERT, SKATING AS FAST AS YOU CAN TO FEEL THE WIND ON YOU, A JOKE TOLD WITH A TOOTHY GRIN.

hero’s back w character no. 2 and yet......

full name: wesley ‘wes’ elaine mccarrick

birthdate: february 2, 1997

age: 23

gender: demi woman

pronouns: she/her/they/them

zodiac: aquarius

nationality: american

ethnicity: black (louisiana creole) and white (irish)

hometown: santa fe, nm

languages: english, intermediate spanish

family:

theodore mccarrick, father

elaine barlow, mother

ruby mccarrick, older brother

delphine mccarrick, older sister

sherri barlow, maternal grandmother

many cousins

orientation: bisexual biromantic, pref. towards women/nb people but will date men

religion: agnostic

height: 5 ft 4 in

distinguishing features: eyebrows, hair, lips

character inspo: ilana wexler (broad city), harley quinn (dc comics), phoebe buffay (friends), prob more

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

TRIGGERS: divorce, mentions of crime, drug and alcohol use

the youngest child of ted and elaine mccarrick, wes was a kid who is full of life. she’s the kind of kid who did things to make you smile, and it usually worked. she was warm and inviting, a little naive, but she had a strong support system.

her parents divorce when she’s six, she doesn’t quite understand it but her dad moves out, and her grandma and multiple cousins move in. it’s a lively household, between her mom, who works as a nurse, and her siblings, and her cousins, it was never really quiet and there was never a lot of room.

despite the split, her parents maintain that their children have a relationship with both of them, and truthfully, wes is a daddy’s girl. she and her dad were cut from the same cloth, happy go lucky, fun loving, a bit silly, he’s the one who introduces her to movies. it’s their thing, watching and critiquing them together, and it’s not whatever is in theatres either. they went for all times of filmmaking, new wave, surrealist, and more.

it really stuck with wes, who herself had begun making movies, mostly horror/fantasy/scifi stuff with her friends-- she writes and directs and occasionally, she’ll don a costume and star in them. they’re silly little things, but her family always sat down for her “premieres.”

her formative years are marked with plenty of things, sports, deaths of distant family members, a cousin or two who gets caught in the wrong crowd and ends up in jail, and throughout this, wes remains a rock for her family.

she’s in high school, and she gets into the eclectic crowd, the outcasts, the weirdos, the ones who smoked under the bridge, and partied out in an abandoned trailer near the desert. these freaks were her freaks. they accepted her with open arms, as she them.

she chooses thales because she always wants to see the east coast, and frankly, as much as she loves her family, she wants to be free of them. and they have a fantastic film program. so!

she meets steven in their first film class together, and they’re fast friends, despite her usual weariness of YET another film bro, steven proves to be a good egg. so she thinks. she finds out through him talking that he might not be the most faithful to his girlfriend, and as much as she doesn’t like meddling, she thinks it’s only right to let clarissa, who she doesn’t really know well, know. however, before there’s a chance, everything happens-- now she’s stuck wondering if she should reveal the truth, or let sleeping dogs lie.

nana is different, nana and her dated her sophomore year, nana’s freshman year. it wasn’t serious. but they were fond of each other. they eventually break up, but they stay friendly, waving to each other in the halls, chatting at parties.

both the disappearance and the murder is weird for wes, who by all accounts, isn’t great at dealing with bad shit. she prefers to laugh about things. laugh about everything. because if she doesn’t laugh, she’ll cry.

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

wes is a mess, a free-spirit, a walking contradiction. she’s very independent minded, the kind of person who does things without thinking so much about the consequences, this leads her into trouble sometimes. like nicking something from a convenience store, or stealing a stop sign as a prank. she’s definitely the kind to goof off and not exactly dedicate her full attention to something. and while she’s in genuinely good spirits on most occasions, she has a staunch ‘no asshole’ policy. the type to defend the underdogs, and go after bullies. she’ll punch you with a smile on her face, and yet it ends up being more unnerving than you realize. she’s a bit of a ditz, as well, never the best at school, but can talk your ear off about the going ons of the world. she’s a lovable dumbass, for sure, and loyal to a tee once you get her as a friend.

𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒

horror movie fan! her favorites are some of the oldies, like dracula and the bride of frankenstein! and some new ones! big fan of jordan peele’s work, as well as ari aster’s! but mostly really advocates for women directors and directors of color!

also does roller derby! she picked this up her first year at thales and fell in love with it, i can’t think of a name for her yet, but she’s a blocker, won’t hesitate to elbow some dick at the bar

kinda a tomboy? she’s always been! she’s rough and tumble and not afraid to get down and dirty with someone, i.e. will join those football games on the quad or crawl through the mud for a scene to shoot

doesn’t know if she wants to be a director/writer or a cinematographer honestly.... she loves the technical aspects of film as much as the making the stories

definition of a bruh girl, says it a whole lot, but also just if you tell her you love her, she’ll just roll her eyes and be like you’re an idiot (which means she loves you too) she’ll be affectionate if she’s close to you

kinda a wh*re oops....... texts multiple girls at a time and doesn’t want to hurt any of their feelings she doesn’t know how she keeps ending up in these situations... also a bisexual disaster

a stoner as well..... always has a massive jar of weed

unclear whether she lives on campus or off campus but if she does live off campus she has a pet turtle named elsa lanchester after the bride of frankenstein actress

a drummer! she’s in a band (name tbd) she started drumming at a young age and found it was a good way to manage her aggression

doesn’t really do well with emotions, so she’ll either be like there, there, or try to make jokes.... she really said kids can you lighten up

walking meme... such a walking meme... doesn’t know so many things she’s like a cute puppy with no thoughts head empty but she’s so fun to be around

life of the party.... nana she came fr ur spot and she took it and she’s not sorry but she does miss u a lot

doesn’t rly feel like she’s allowed to be upset anyways bc some people have it...... way worse.... can u say Imposter syndrome

kind of an enabler...... will be that person to push u to try things but not in a peer pressurey way, more like if u are unsure abt sending a text she says do it

wears fun earrings and socks! think lollipops or gummy bears or found objects like she collects that shit it’s her lifeline

boxes! she’s been boxing since she was abt 12, courtesy of her older brother (who is now a doctor thx ruby) and it’s a good way to exercise and release stress

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

best friend -- two of a feather, cut from the same cloth, or complete opposites it doesnt matter to her (the abbi to her ilana)

roller derby friends -- she’s p close to the team, margs on her

makeup artist pal -- i think it would be neat fr someone to try and teach her makeup whether its normal or sfx bc she wants to look like a monster or smthn

she’s gullible, u take advantage of that -- u just tell her lies p much and she’s like yeah ok that sounds right

party friends

classmates

fwbs (f/m/nb) -- tbh she might have one or two of these but they literally are the def of pals who bone sometimes... like v good abt being like you good? u dont want more? cool me too

exes (f/m/nb) -- mostly dated women or nb people but def cld have had a guy

she smokes you out -- p much the only reason u hang out w her is bc she has good weed

someone she’s fought -- like fully decked in the face, prob said something that rubbed her the wrong way and it just devolved from there

people who dislike her -- she could definitely be seen as annoying bc shes loud and dorky and funny so ??

breaks someone out of their shell -- p self explanatory, pushes them to have fun, w everything happening shes rly like lifes too short to not take the opportunities around u

cousins! probably on her dad’s side! i figure she has some east coast fam

anything? truly?

#pyrrhic.intro #intro.#divorce tw #crime mention #drug use tw #alcohol use tw #i pulled this out of my ass

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help-im-a-medstudent · 4 years

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Tips for clinical years

Hello everyone! I was asked to do a post about any advice I had for clinical years at med school so here it is as I am (somehow) out the other side of it. I think I approached each of my clinical years quite differently because my med school focused on different aspects of diagnosis/investigations/management each year, which meant that we revisited specialties such as mental health and obs & gynae, and I felt that gave me a bit more confidence in them in final year.

This post will be as generic as possible, but it will of course depend on your university. I’ll put this under a cut because it will probably be quite long!

1. What to wear?

Clinical dress is usually bare below the elbows, smart and professional but it needs to be comfortable as well, especially the shoes! I usually go with brogues because they have better support. Trainers are fine if you’re wearing scrubs (and definitely the most comfortable) but make sure they’re clean and check the theatre policy (some say only shoes worn inside the hopsital, some say only shoes worn in theatres can be worn). I wouldn’t recommend trainers with clinical dress (you’ll see doctors wearing them but I’ve known some students to be called up on it)

2. Be prepared

Be prompt and know where you need to get to and what time you should be there for. If a clinic starts at 9, i always try and get there for 8.45, and if it’s in a building i’m unfamiliar with i leave myself even more time. I do like to turn up ridiculously early for things, but usually 9am means the first patient gets shown in at 9, so being there early means you’ve had a chance to chat to the doctor about what you want out of the clinic. For ward rounds, it’s good to get there a little before handover starts, especially on the first day because sometimes wards are a bit of a maze and you need to put bags somewhere different.

Speaking of what you want to get out of the day, it’s good to go in with a vague plan. Check your learning outcomes and sign offs when you first get your timetable, and then you can plan opportunities to get them done. Obviously be flexible, but if you say to a doctor what you want to get done that day, they will find opportunities for you (one literally hunted round wards and theatres for a catheter for me to do)

3. Take opportunities

If a health professional offers for you to do/watch/sit in on something, say yes. Now, this comes with a caveat of if you are comfortable doing something, but if they are happy to supervise you doing it/for you to be there then you should go for it. If you aren’t comfortable doing something/you haven’t been trained to do it then say, and ask if you could watch them or assist them doing it instead. you’ll still learn, and then maybe once you’ve seen them do it once or twice, you’d be happy to do it the next time.

Just always make sure you have the appropriate supervision. Especially when you are starting out on clinical years. We were only allowed to cannulate if someone was watching us in third year, so make sure you check (and tell whoever has asked you to do something, as the ward staff don’t always know)

4. Don’t be afraid to leave

There can be A LOT of waiting around, and it is absolutely fine if you feel you’d be spending your time better at home revising/relaxing. Clinical years are tiring, can involve early mornings and you still have exams to think about. Staff 100% understand, and if a doctor says to you “do you want to go” they probably know there’s not much for you to do/see and they might be too busy to teach you (although they do want to!). Check if there’s anything else you could do, or if they think there’s any patients that might be happy to talk to you, but if not, then go!

Just be polite, I had the policy of turn up every morning and then i didn’t feel so bad leaving because the staff had at least seen my face.

5. Guard your logbook with your life

(/equivalent thing you need to fill in with case histories/sign offs)

carry it with you everywhere, be persistent with getting things signed off (the number of people at the end of this year who “had done it but forgot to ask for a signature” was ridiculous, and meant they had to go and repeat it all one morning) and keep it up to date. It’s a pain when you have to fill everything in the day before and try and remember dates and details etc.

Keep it on you so if you have some downtime you can fill it in (I had 2 hour lunches most days on my GP rotation and I have never written such well thought out reflections!)

Also, it’s super important to make sure you don’t have any patient identifiable information in your logbook - make sure it’s all anonymised and you don’t leave it anywhere.

6. Remember you’re not “just” a med student

There will be times when you feel useless, but you are still part of the team. Offer to help, don’t be afraid to add in to discussions on ward rounds if a patient told you something that they didn’t tell anyone else. You can also spend more time with the patients when you take a history from them and that can be invaluable when they are stuck in hospital and all the staff members seem too busy to stop and talk. As long as you work within your capabilities, you can’t go wrong!

My first clinical year reminded me why I was at med school and reinforced that I did really want to be there. Enjoy it!

#med school tips #medicine #medblr #med school #clinical placements #clinical years #med student

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packsbeforesnacks · 5 years

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Contact Improv || Blanche, Orion, & Winn

TIMING: Tuesday, February 11th, 2020, Early Afternoon LOCATION: UMWC PARTIES: @harlowhaunted, @3starsquinn, & @packsbeforesnacks SUMMARY: Blanche tries to exit out a fifth-story window. Orion kisses a wolf and likes it. Winn unleashes his personal trauma on some freshman. WARNINGS: None.

Acting class had to be one of the most stressful parts of Orion’s day, and that was saying something. He had switched into the class the week prior, after dropping a class that his sister had joined at the last possible minute. He spent enough time around her.

With the late notice and the already limited amount of availability for entry level classes, he had been down to only a few options. From the moment Rio had walked into the class his hair stood at the back of his neck. He had felt this same feeling a few times before. There was a supernatural creature somewhere in the class.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have much time to dwell on it, as the teacher, Miss Darbussy, had embarrassed Rio half to death by putting him on the spot to introduce him to the other students. After, Rio had scurried to the back of the class and hidden there for the rest of the class.

Now, a few classes down the road he had safely remained mostly unnoticed in the classroom. He always found a seat towards the back and tried making himself as small as possible and trying his best to disappear from existence. Now if only he could keep this up for the rest of the semester.

Introduction to Theatre was the bane of Blanche’s existence, but for Winn it was just another Tuesday. Winn knew the former fact for a number of reasons — not least of which was Blanche’s griping (and his complaining back, in solidarity) about the class any chance that she had. Today seemed… different, though, and not only because Blanche had begged Winn to let her skip another class. But Winn didn’t want to see Darbussy’s face (or feel her wrath, by simple association with Blanche), nor did he want Blanche’s GPA to tank because she was being dramatic (ha), and so he’d driven them both in.

Then, on the elevator ride to the fifth floor, he sensed it. He heard her heartbeat pounding, knew the telltale signs of fight-or-flight from years of experience as both a wolf and a psychology student. So, he did what any reasonable person would do and, as the elevator chimed that they’d hit the fourth floor, sighed deeply, and said, “Don’t.”

And, because really saying it aloud was more of a Band-Aid solution, Winn reached out with his good arm and hoisted the shorter woman up and over his shoulder as they hit the fifth floor. “C’mon, B. You’ll survive.” He ignored the stares from the faculty and students as he made his way to the room, as well as the hole that Blanche’s glare was burning into his back. (And thank fuck he’d kept her hands away from his nips, eesh.)

Darbussy tittered as they entered the studio, mumbling something about the “drama” of it all. Great. Grimacing, Winn deposited Blanche into one of the Department-standard padded floor chairs, gripping her hand tight within his as he sat down next to her. He looked at the new kid from across the room, waved sunnily (mostly to bug Blanche), and ignored Marissa’s pointed gaze — Blanche could take her.

“Don’t make me go—” she had said it at least a hundred times on the drive over, another fifty on the way to the building, and at least twenty-five on the way to the elevator. Blanche was not happy and it was because of fucking Orion Quinn of all people. Or, as she remembered solemnly, Onion as she called him repeatedly because she forgot how to make the Or sound with her mouth. How embarrassing. She had a plan though. Blanche decided it between floors two and three, and was gearing up to absolutely fucking book it out of the elevator and hurtle herself down the emergency staircase when Winn clearly caught onto her plan.

Well what the fuck was he going to do about it? Carry her?

That was exactly what he did. As a smaller human, she was used to being jerked and pulled around, and hell, Alain had literally thrown her the other day. It just made her even more mad that she was used to it, that Winn had just plucked her off the ground like an angry cat, and strode into class with her like that. Blanche waited till she was deposited safely on the padded chair and immediately tried to bolt —

Oh, wait, Winn was holding her hand like she was a five year old. She shot him a glare. “You’re the worst,” Blanche grumbled, crankily settling in her chair. No getting out of it now. She looked ahead, all the color in her face draining when she saw Orion from across the room. “Oh no, Winn this is! So! Bad! He probably hates me!”

“AS I WAS SAYING—” Darbussy interjected loudly and dramatically. “We are all going to experience scene work — we’re working on the dynamic shifts between each other and how power shifts between actors. And why don’t our late arrivals, Mr. Woods and Ms. Harlow, join our newcomer, Mr. Quinn, to start us off?”

The last two that walked into class were a shock to Orion in a lot of ways. He hadn’t expected Blanche Harlow to walk — or rather, be carried through the classroom doorway and join the class. Orion had figured that his one off with Blanche the other night had been exactly that — a one off. He was fully prepared to never see her again, but fate had apparently had different plans. And if Orion knew anything about fate, it was that fate sucked ass. But even more shocking than that, was Winn. Of course, he had picked Winn out of the group right away. Easily the tallest in the class, Winn’s seemingly carefree nature and habit of waving at anybody that he made eye contact with had been dangerous to Orion. Just like the other classes, Winn waved at Orion as he carried Blanche to their seats, Orion giving a small wave before realizing how ridiculous he was and face planting his forehead against his lap.

Still, that hadn’t been the part that had shocked him. It was that feeling that Orion got when his parents had set the werewolf loose on him and Athena. The goosebumps that had prickled at his skin and hummed at him. Until now, he had only known that it was somebody in the class. But the late arrival of Blanche and Winn coupled with the sudden appearance could only mean one thing. Winn must have been a werewolf. That complicated things even further.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard his name being called. He perked up from his near fetal position, meeting the eyes of Miss Darbussy and finally connecting the rest of the dots to what she had just said. Rio’s eyes grew wide and his face felt flush, he could only imagine how red it must be. He was stupid to think that he could have escaped this all semester, but he had hoped he would at least make it a couple more weeks. Not to mention, Winn and Blanche? This was the absolute worst case scenario. “Oh uh — Ma’am. I don’t want to ruin the scene or anything. Maybe someone else should go first so I can, uh… observe?” He tried his best to get out of what could only be the single most horrifying experience he could possibly imagine.

“Oh no, acting is learning by doing. There is no such thing as ruining a scene, there’s only such things as a scene running flat — and if a scene runs flat, we fix it. It’s that simple, Mr. Quinn, now please, join me up here. And Mr. Woods and — oh for the love of God, Ms. Harlow can you two stop gripping each other like you’re both going to die. Get up here. Now!”

At his core, at his most essential self, Winn knew he just wanted to please others. It was something he’d worked through, first with the pack, and then in therapy for a few years. There were times when it was helpful — like when he needed to charm the pants off someone who was angry at him — and times where it overwrote his impulse control, and he just moved as quickly as possible to fix whatever was wrong.

A stern voice from an old white lady might, in retrospect, be a trigger of Winn’s. He wasn’t proud of the way he yanked Blanche up off the ground, mumbling a “sorry” (RIP to her arm) before letting go of her hand, or of the way he scurried up, tail between his legs, to stand at the front of the studio. He took some deep breaths. He could do this. He lifted his head, regarding the rest of the class — and avoiding Marissa’s gaze, Christ — with a smile that, he hoped, read as cheerful and even a little dopey.

He understood the newbie’s hesitation, but, really, how bad could it possibly go?

Blanche yelped loudly in pain as she was wrenched upward. Unlike Winn, she was not afraid of the old white lady. In fact, she relished in watching them get angry. Maybe that was why her and Darbussy had such an antagonistic relationship. Blanche glowered at Darbussy.

“I could climb out that window right now,” Blanche said to Winn under her breath.

“No,” Winn said.

“I could do it, there’s a tree right there.”

“If you two are done—” Darbussy cut in, waving them over to join Orion. “I’m going to give you an improv scene. Shall we?”

“N—”

“Alright! Since you two are so… handsy today—” Blanche looked up at Winn, wrinkling her nose.

“Didn’t like that,” she muttered under her breath.

“You two are the married couple.” Blanche snorted. “With the added tension of you, Mr. Woods, have been having an affair with Mr. Quinn’s wife. Would any of you like to explain the struggles of tension and power here?”

“After you, newbie,” Winn said, gesturing to Orion and winking.

At the teacher’s insistence, Orion crawled up from the chair and slumped towards the front of the room to stand with Winn and Blanche. For wildly different reasons, they both made him extremely nervous.

He kept his head trained at the ground at all times, only glancing up when someone spoke. “My uh—my wife?” Orion asked, laughing nervously which sent him into a fit of coughing. His wife. Clearly this wasn’t meant to be realistic. He made the mistake of looking up to Winn when he spoke and caught the man's wink at the wrong moment. Orion’s mouth went completely dry and he struggled to form anything close to a coherent sentence for what felt like minutes.

“I — uh— well— um, you see…” Orion fumbled through words and finally paused to take a deep breath. His voice was still shaky but at least he was able to speak in full sentences. “So, uh, clearly the tension is a man confronting another man about the affair.” He hated being here. He was smarter than this. His brain was practically the one useful thing about him, something his family had constantly reminded him of since childhood. But even that damned thing was useless as soon as he was in front of a crowd or hot guy.

“And I guess the struggle of power will be shown through us two... uh, fighting for control of the scene?” Either this class needed to be over, or Orion needed to finally pass out. He didn’t care which one came first.

“Good, Mr Quinn!” Darbussy said, enthusiastically. “That is one level of tension. Would you like to explain a second leve—”

“I’m here,” Blanche said flatly. This was bad. This kind of shit made her want to just keel over and die for the hour and thirty minutes, but Orion looked like he was legit going to drop like a rock. At least she was usually joking. Darbussy turned to glare at her.

“What?”

“If I’m Winn’s wife, and On— Orion is confronting Winn about the affair with his wife in front of me, that means I know, and that probably means I didn’t already know. So Winn is, like, totally in the doghouse.” Blanche grinned cheekily.

Winn covered a laugh with a cough.

“And what are two other—”

“Layers of tension in a scene. L.O.R.T. Stuff we covered in class last week while I was sick. Initial Tension, the T, is Winn sleeping with Orion’s wife. Relationship is our relationship—” she nudged Winn with her elbow “—as husband and wife, and if we wanted to add a secondary relationship, we’re all friends. Two couples doing… things married couples do today kinds of friends. Objective is Orion pointedly telling Winn he knows about the affair with his wife. Location is — uh —”

Blanche faltered slightly, and Darbussy grinned. “Yes, Ms. Harlow?”

She thought for a moment. “... Public.” Blanche said. “We’re in a restaurant. O— Orion’s wife went to use the ladies room.” Darbussy frowned. Ha, get fucked, she was right.

“I have a question,” Winn said, with a soft frown, perfectly oblivious to the mental standoff. “Why does it have to be Orion’s wife, Professor? Doesn’t that sort of uphold the tired tropes inherent in our society, tropes which value the drama and interiority of opposite-sex couples over the drama, melodrama if you like, of same-sex couples? Isn’t it more compelling, true to life in the twenty-first century even, for the couples to have inherent troubles of attraction and a more, I don’t know, nuanced dynamic than simply an affair? Aren’t the stakes higher when it’s Orion, and not some nebulous Other, whom I’m in love with, my best friend, someone whom I didn’t know I could love until I did? Doesn’t it mean more to him if his stake in it isn’t just personal, it’s internal?”

He stopped, taking in the slack-jaw of Darbussy, of the class, of Blanche, and the look on Orion’s face. What was that look?

“What? Did I say somethin’ weird?” he asked, to no one in particular.

Everyone in the class went silent at Winn’s monologue. Clearly nobody expected him to have that much to say about a scene, especially some randomly chosen one during a class. Orion felt like he was going to puke. He could only imagine what he must have looked like to the rest of the class right now. A million things ran through his head. He wondered why Winn had been so adamant about changing things up. Was he legitimately some LGBT ally? Or had he noticed Orion staring not too discreetly at him the last couple of classes and had decided to fuck with him? He was mortified either way.

“I—uh that’s a twist,” was all Orion could think to say. Was the room suddenly baking or was he just him? He felt sweat gather at his palms and wiped at his forehead just to be safe. He was pretty sure the back of the class could hear his heart pounding right now. It was ridiculous how worked up he was getting over some stupid scene. He needed to calm down or he may legitimately puke on one of his co-stars.

“I’m not sure how believable it is that he would be in love with me,” Orion mumbled, mostly to himself at that point. He had seen the look in Darbussy’s eyes. Whether she wanted to admit defeat or not, she loved Winn’s idea. And apparently all of them had some vendetta against Orion. They clearly wanted to see him embarrassed to death. “How—how do you feel about this new development Blanche? Does it make sense for the scene?” He turned to her, non verbally begging for her assistance.

Blanche could see the annoyance on Darbussy’s face as she scowled at Winn. Really, Winn was right, but Darbussy hated Winn, but she also had this… begrudgingly proud look on her face? She loved the idea and she was going to have to admit it. Ha, get fucked. Blanche snorted, before her head snapped to Orion when he addressed her.

“Uh—” Dude! Don’t drag her into this! She could see the begging in his eyes and could practically feel the anxiety rolling off him. Blanche glanced to the window again, the only viable option to get them both out of there at this point, especially if Orion was actually looking as green as she thought. “Uh—”

“Yes, Miss Harlow, what do you think?” Darbussy asked.

Shit. Blanche’s brain went static. No! Bad! Stop that right now! Why?! “Uhhh, I think that… The scene makes sense with how Winn said,” she blurted out. Shit. That was the opposite of helping. She shot Orion an apologetic look. “But—uh—uh—the dramatics don’t come from Orion. But from Winn’s reaction!”

“And what about your reaction, Miss Harlow? To being cheated on? And with friends no less?”

Bitch, Blanche thought. “Well, I’m probably sad. But to be honest, it’s probably a good thing! Well, not a good thing, good thing, but like, if Winn’s happy with Orion, that’s good! And it probably means our marriage wasn’t working out that well in the first place, so maybe it’s really best for everyone? Right, Winn? We need a divorce!”

Winn got the sense he’d maybe done something, well, not wrong, but definitely off. Orion and Blanche were, well... stumbling was generous. (And what was that comment about it being unbelievable that Winn could love Orion? No one else had heard it, just Winn. Hmm.) He didn’t know Orion well, even a little bit, but he knew Blanche “Filthy Cave Sex” Harlow pretty well at this point, and knew when something was up. Alright, improv. He could do this, right? He’d gotten them here, and he’d lead them out. Confidence, Winner. Confidence.

“Y...eah. Yeah. I think my character has, um, trouble being honest with his feelings, some trouble expressing himself. He hasn’t been clear to Orion or to Blanche about what he wants. So, even as his heart is, like, pushing him towards Orion, Blanche is the, uh, safer choice in some ways. If he stays with her, the story of his life has been written. It’s good and predictable. And maybe he likes that.” Winn took a deep breath. Alright, this was bad, but it was good. He knew how this story continued.

“But with Orion, there’s, you know, a deep friendship that could be something so great and, um, I don’t think my character’s a bad guy. I think he’s told Orion something, but maybe not the most important things, and I think he’s let it get a little physical, but only, um, recently. But he’s,” a pause, “a little religious? So, he’s got that, um, Catholic guilt. He needs absolution. He needs to be clear, with both of them, right here and now. He needs to make… a choice.” He knows he’s looking at the ceiling, knows there’s a light blush on his cheeks, knows that there’s something in his voice that’s maybe a little too wistful, maybe a little too emotionally honest. There was a nakedness to what he was doing, and it burned at his neck and his ears.

But, being as he’d just based a character on his ex, he probably deserved whatever came next.

At this point, Winn rambling felt like he was reading Orion his last rites. But a few things piqued Orion’s curiosity. Safer Choice. Catholic Guilt. Was Winn inside Orion’s head? His family was obsessively Catholic, a religion Orion had abandoned long ago, along with any other religion. For many reasons, Orion never saw himself disclosing his sexuality to his family. Not only because of the religion, but because Orion rarely pictured himself having a future at all, and definitely not one that included his family. His family would never approve anyways, so it just seemed best to keep those things to himself. This scene, the one that Winn stood directly in front of Orion pitching to the teacher, the class, him; that was the sort of resolution Orion could never see for himself. It made the idea for the sketch all the more gut wrenching.

But Orion also understood that the longer that this planning went on, the more his torture would be prolonged. He was clearly not escaping it, unless by some miracle a fire started on the campus or the sky literally fell. The best plan now was just go jump in, get it over with and then dip out as quickly as humanly (or hunterly) possible.

“Um, I guess I — or, um, my character is feeling very confused. He probably feels backed into a corner, approached in public, in front of Winn’s wife. But in a lot of ways I think he also feels sort of, relieved? That things are finally coming to the surface and everything will be out in the open. Assuming he survives the conversation, I imagine there must be this overwhelming cathartic feeling that goes with it.” Orion shrugged, accepting his fate. “Or something, I guess.”

“Great! Now that you all have deep and personal connections with each of your characters—” Darbussy said, happily. “Do the scene!”

Blanche froze. “What?”

Darbussy looked at her expectantly. “Do the scene,” she said, slowly. “Anyone can start. Rapid fire now, remember that there’s no wrong answer, but to always be accepting. Yes and, remember?”

Blanche looked at the other two, a little fearfully.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Darbussy said, helpfully. “Start in the middle of the tension, rather than before it happens. It’ll rip the bandaid off.”

Blanche almost let out a frustrated scream. This was so terrible! Why did she have to do this?!

Finally she turned to Winn. Whatever, shoot for the moon, or something.

“I can’t believe you.”

Oh, they were just… jumping into it? Winn knew his role well, for better or for worse. Hopefully, it went better for Winn than it had for César, when he’d been here years and years ago.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I… I don’t know what else to say to make you understand, Blanche.” He looked askance, focusing on a stain from where he’d knocked over Darbussy’s coffee a few weeks ago, and hoped it looked sufficiently “torn.”

Nervous laughter started pouring from Blanche as she looked between the two. That was always a problem with her whenever they did improvised stuff, she couldn’t help it. “I—” nervous laughter. “Don’t—” Crap. Crap. Crap. Tears sprang to her eyes. Oh! Wait! That was a good thing. She could work with that! Blanche looked between the two and immediately burst into tears. “I just wanted everyone to be happy!” she wailed.

“Uh,” said Winn unhelpfully, looking away from Blanche to stare into Orion’s eyes for a long pause, searching for something. “I— What do I do, Orion?” Right, ‘cause Orion — Winn, in the actual past — was supposed to have all the answers. Super fun trip down memory lane, Winner. He sighed. “What can I do?”

Rio helplessly looked back and forth between Blanche and Winn as they began their scene. Rio forced his gaze forward, too afraid to glance out at the class who had been staring at them silently this entire time during setup. Orion’s face must have been so red that it looked like it was ready to pop. He was relieved that there was nowhere around that he could see his own reflection. All the feelings of confusion and embarrassment were building up. He needed to find a way to relieve the pressure before he passed out. Copying Blanche’s tears seemed tacky, but not exactly unnatural for a scene full of emotion. It only took a tiny bit of motivation for the tears to start rolling down his own cheeks.

“I—I don’t know what you want me to say…” Orion’s voice was barely a whisper as it escaped his lips, but he could make that work for him. The character was confused and flustered, much like Orion. And even more like him, he hated how public Winn had made the scene. “I can’t tell you what you need,” Orion hissed, letting a single, humorless laugh escape. “And God knows I can’t make your decisions for you.” He finally risked a look around the room, now self-conscious about how long he had been staring at Winn with tears running down his eyes. “But do we really have to do this here? In front of all these people?”

Winn had never been totally comfortable, facing down multiple crying people, and, even though he knew it was all just an act, he felt a bubble of anxiety sit in the pit of his gut. Fuck.

“I didn’t—I wasn’t planning this or anything, Orion. You both,” Winn paused to glance between the both of them, his hands clenched tightly at his sides, “do you really think I’m such a coward? I just… I c—can’t.” His breath stuttered out, a soft chatter to his teeth. Shock. He remembered that. Winn hadn’t been comfortable either, especially given his status. Winn backed away from the two of them, leaning against the wall. He brought a hand to his hair, letting out a nervous laugh as he ran it through.

“I’m fucking it up. I’m fucking this all up. I’m going to lose both of you, aren’t I?” He slumped, sliding slowly down the wall. All the while, he looked at Orion, too guilty to look to Blanche. Winn remembered the way César had stared at him, ignoring Oleana. Winn had been too shocked to think about it, then, but — shit, this had probably sucked for her. He had to say something. But all that he could choke out was: “I’m sorry, Blanche,” he said again, uselessly. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean for this to happen like this. This was the last thing I wanted, but I can’t lie anymore.”

Blanche didn’t like this. Of course, Darbussy was eating this shit up, and she seemed all too delighted by the steady stream of tears that were rolling down Blanche’s face. Good one, she mentally patted herself on the back. Granny was going to be so proud. The thing that struck her panic down and actually made her feel something was the what seemed to be genuine distraught on Winn’s face and in his voice, and the I can’t lie anymore. It was like she was suckerpunched in the gut.

“Holy shit, they’re really going for it, huh?” Dray was whispering to Echo, she was pretty sure.

“Good for them! Get it!” Echo cheered quietly.

“I never asked for you to lie!” Blanche bawled, hurriedly using the sleeves of her sweater to start dabbing at her face. All her makeup was waterproof, thank god. Later, on the way home with Winn, she would make a joke about her eyeliner being on point even in the middle of a crisis, but now she could be grateful there were no eyeliner or mascara stains on her sweater. “I don’t want anyone to lie, I don’t want any of this! I just need— ” Blanche tearfully looked over to Orion. “— I just want everything to be okay and everyone to be happy and I don’t want — I never wanted — I don’t want to lose anyone! I’m sorry.”

The whole class was staring at them and Orion couldn’t have possibly been more embarrassed. All three of them were in it now. For better or worse. Definitely worse. It was too late to back out now, he supposed. It only made it worse that they were using each other’s real names. It made it that much more painful when Winn called Orion by name. “I can’t do this.” He whined, resting his face between his palms and staring at the ground. He took a deep breath, forcing tears into his eyes and then made a loud sniffling noise for dramatic effect.

“Don’t be sorry. This wasn’t you—this was…” He focused on Blanche. Despite the two’s short history he was more comfortable around her than anybody else in this class, hell maybe even this town. She could help ground him, make sure he didn’t completely lose his cool in the middle of this acting exercise. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Blanche. This was us.” Orion pointed at Winn and then back at himself. “… All us. I’m so sorry, I—” He let himself choke on his own words. For once his awkwardness and stammering could work in his favor. “I never meant to fall in love with him.”

Winn laughed, sharp. He knew his voice was harsh, bitter, but he couldn’t keep it out — or, more accurately, he had to get it out. “I didn’t even know I could fall in love with him. That’s the bitch of it all, right? It should be clawing out of me, should make me feel like crap… But…” He smiled, a little sad. “I’m sorry for how this is happening. Really, I am, Blanche. You deserve better — so, so much better. I can only hope you find it in your heart to forgive me — us.”

Orion was either very convincing, or there was something here for him, too. Winn looked him in the eyes, a step forward to him. “I’m not sorry that I fell in love with you, Orion. This feels good, feels right. And… I do love you. I love you. So much.” He could feel tears prickling at his own eyes, moved by the emotion of the memory and of his fellow actors. He leaned in. Big moves. Winn took another step forward, roped an arm around Orion’s back, and looked deep into his eyes. “Kick me if this isn’t okay,” he whispered low, before kissing Orion soundly.

This was fine. Everything was okay. Surprisingly, Orion was not freaking out as much as he thought he was going to. Once they got into the groove of the scene and they got into whatever characters they were pulling from, things didn’t seem so bad. Orion noticed that he had a habit of staring towards Blanche, only looking at Winn when he was directly speaking to him or if Orion was feeling really brave, he would glance at the class. But despite the fact that Blanche and him couldn’t really be considered friends, she was sort of a constant in Rio’s life. From childhood up to high school and now in college, they had known each other. That in itself was comforting.

“I— I’m not sorry either,” Orion managed to say, his breath catching as he realized that Winn was leaning closer to him. He heard Winn mention something about kicking him, but still hadn’t connected the dots until Winn’s lips touched Orion’s. He immediately tensed up, the new sensation shooting up his spine. He couldn’t tell if that was just from the kiss or because his werewolf senses were going haywire. If it was the latter, his body either really hated the idea of a hunter kissing a werewolf or really liked it. Since he didn’t feel like he could move anything at the moment he couldn’t really assess. The problem was… Orion knew he didn’t hate it. Even if he should. For so many reasons he should hate it.

When the kiss was over Orion stared at Winn for a long moment, his breath caught in his throat. “I—” he began finally, trying to find something to say. Something in character. “That was— I just—” Then he felt it. The pain in his chest. The trembling. Sweat collected at his palms. Not here. Not now. Please, anything but that. “I can’t do this.” He forced himself to speak aloud, before shoving past Winn and Blanche and heading for the classroom door.

He made it out into the hallway and stumbled into the bathroom, turning the faucet on and collecting water to splash onto his face. Of all the places to start a panic attack, it had to be here? He couldn’t go back into the classroom. Not in the state that he was in right now.

Blanche wasn’t able to speak real words, if only because she muffled crying had mixed into half hysterical laughter because this was getting way too deep and she laughed when things were uncomfortable. And she was certainly uncomfortable, especially with this fake situation. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve, holding up her hands defensively as she saw Winn go on for the kiss — only realizing what was happening the second before it happened. “Oh, Winn, wait—” Blanche said, eyes widening in shock. She definitely hadn’t been expecting that. Make bold choices. Or something like that. But with Orion already being the most anxious of the three, maybe that was a bad idea. “I — er — uh — uh-oh,” Blanche said, dumbly as Orion shoved past them, with a simple I can’t do this.

“And scene! Excellent—” Darbussy had started and Blanche shot her a look, looking over her shoulder. She reached out to tug on Winn’s good arm.

“I think we should go after him,” Blanche said.

“Fuck,” Winn said, going with Blanche out of the room. He took a long pull of air in through his nose, zeroing in on Orion’s scent. There was a bathroom down the hallway that seemed a likely candidate, especially since the last thing had heard from Orion had been a pounding heart. Fuck. He’d given the dude a panic attack.

It had been a good kiss, all things considered. Orion’s lips were very soft, and he smelled nice, and— Well, and Winn had maybe made a dumb move. But it hadn’t been a pass! He’d just… leaned into the moment. Maybe a bit too hard. Maybe the nostalgia was getting to him. Maybe he should reach out to Ber— No. Firm no. He had bigger problems, for one. And for another… Just. No.

He pushed the door of the bathroom open gently, gesturing for Blanche to watch the door. He’d ask later, maybe, how she knew Orion. But first. Orion looked… well, he looked like shit. But Winn wasn’t going to tell him that. Instead, he walked up to the sink, squatted, and tried to look up at the other man. Shifting power, or something. Plus, good angle for Orion if he wanted to break Winn’s nose. He started talking, low and firm, “Hey. Breathe, buddy. Just breathe. I’m sorry. That wasn’t cool of me. I’ll ask before I kiss you, next time.” He mentally swore at himself, choking out a weak laugh. “Let’s get out of here, yeah? I drove Blanche in, and I can take you home. No one’s gotta see you if you don’t want ‘em too. Promise.”

He knew Orion likely wouldn’t appreciate his touch, no matter how gentle, right now, and so grabbed a paper towel for the younger man to dry himself with when he came off the anxiety rush. It didn’t seem like a “straight person freaking out about a gay man kissing him.” But Winn wasn’t going to push, or to pry. It wasn’t his business and, besides, asking Orion if he was some flavor of queer right now felt sleazy. He needed a friend. Winn could be that.

Orion heard the footsteps. Could smell Winn coming towards him. Plus that stupid tingling feeling came back again. He really hated that feeling. He hurried to try to make himself look normal before realizing that Winn probably heard him from the classroom anyways. Orion wasn’t the only one with super senses, it seemed. Still, because he had always been told that image was everything, he couldn’t stop himself from trying to wipe the tears from his face and control his breathing before Winn got into the bathroom. It wasn’t perfect, but he was at least sort of able to calm himself down before Winn knelt down and was looking him in the eyes. Again.

Winn’s words were a jumble. On one hand, his voice was calming, but on the other than just knowing that the words were coming from somebody like him made Orion inherently nervous. Still, he was able to calm himself enough to laugh nervously at Winn. Had he just said next time? Best to ignore that. And repress that memory. Forever. Less painful that way. “Sorry— sorry it wasn’t that. It was just… all of it.” That certainly played a big factor into it, but he wasn’t about to make Winn feel worse about the situation. Because he hadn’t hated it per say. He just hated himself, for liking it. “I’m always a nervous mess. I’ll be fine.” He sniffled one last time, his breathing now back to relatively normal and he smiled, flashing a thumbs up at him. “See? Good to go.” This was so embarrassing.

Outside of the bathroom, they met up with Blanche. “Well, that was embarrassing. Can we do me a favor and just like… never talk about this again?” he begged the two. If he was lucky, maybe the teacher noticed his pain and would take pity on him for the rest of the semester.

“Your call, bro. But I wasn’t askin’ about ditchin’ the rest of Darbussy’s class. I was tellin’,” Winn said, signaling to Blanche to steer Orion out the door. Darbussy could kiss his ass, for all he cared. They’d killed the scene, for better or worse. They deserved the rest of the day to fuck off.

And off they went, a new friendship (?) forged.

#wickedswriting #para #Blanche #Rio #Contact Improv #//#52 Days Later Cody Meri & Zee Manage to Put Out a Chatzy

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snifflesclifford · 5 years

Text

Waiting for the Right Girl - Chris Evans

A/N: (this is for the anon who wanted friends to lovers) Hi this is the first fic i have wrote in over 3 years so be nice. Please let me know if you want a part 2!

It was raining cats and dogs outside and there were no signs of stopping. The weather channel played softly in the background as you made your way to the kitchen to get another bottle of wine. You decided what was the harm since there was no way you would be driving home anytime soon in this weather. Chris had invited a bunch of friends over to his new house for a house warming party. You think it was more of an excuse to get help putting together the massive shelf he bought the day before but any excuse for free booze and you were there. The others luckily left before the storm hit, but you didn't mind. Chris’ house was more than accommodating for the two of you and it was a great opportunity for you two to catch up since he had been out of town on a shoot.

You opened the door to the wine closet and stepped inside. White or red? Chris would want white but the red paired better with the box of cheese-its you had been devouring. Red. You reached for the least expensive looking bottle and read the label, just as you thought, still expensive. Did he not have Boone’s Farm?

“Hey, did you find one?” Chris practically yelled right behind you. You let out a yelp and dropped the probably more money than your car payment bottle and it shattered, splattering red everywhere .

“What the fuck, how are you so big but so stealthy?” You ask clutching your chest. Chris bursts out laughing and you follow suit.

“I’m sorry, its not my fault that you are literally the jumpiest person ever” He bends down to pick up the large pieces of glass and you try to help but he stops you. “Nah ah, I think you’ve done enough clutz,” he teases “why don't you go take a shower? You look like you’ve murdered at least four people. Help yourself to anything in the dresser.”

You wanted to protest but a hot shower sounded pretty nice with the rainy weather so you agreed and tip-toed around the wine and headed upstairs to find the bathroom. It took longer than you would like to admit to get the shower to work but were you glad you did. It was literally the best shower you had ever stepped foot into. The second the hot water hit you all the tension you didn't even know you had went away. It was like taking a shower in the rainforest. You sighed as you smelled the body wash he had. Of course it would be perfect, everything about Chris is perfect. You took your time, not wanting the warmth to end.

Eventually the water went cold, so you made your way out of the shower and looked around for what you could only assume was a fluffy warm cloud of a towel, only to find nothing. No towels. Shit. You popped your head out of the bathroom and looked around Chris’ monster sized bedroom. Once you saw the coast was clear, you darted out of the room and went to the dresser in search of something to cover your soaking body. But it was too late because just as you picked out an oversized shirt, Chris came barreling into the room holding a towel. You were frozen. You had nothing to shield you from this horror and Chris looked as though he had seen a ghost.

“Um, can i have that?” You asked pointing to the gray towel in his hand.

“Oh fuck, yeah, um. i realized I didn’t have any in the- here” His face turned a deep shade of scarlet as he held it out to you.

His eyes dart down to your naked frame and you blush internally. You wrap the towel around yourself and stand there waiting for anything to happen. Literally anything. Chris was still beet red but you can see a noticeable bulge formed in his pants. He follows your eyes and immediately starts sputtering out what he thinks are words.

“I- I mean, we. Um, you. I made some cookies. if you, they're chocolate chip. i’ll be, um downstairs. You can get dressed, shit. Sorry.” and with that he closes the door and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. What the fuck was that? You thought to yourself as you sat at the foot of his king sized bed.

You had known Chris for two years, you were an intern at Fox while they filmed Gifted and you always had to fetch coffee and get him from his trailer. He asked you to help him run lines and you confessed that you always wanted to be an actor. The next day he brought you a coffee and said he dropped your name at a local theatre and that you had an audition on Tuesday. The rest was history. You had hung out almost every week for awhile helping each other rehearse or playing matchmaker to each others sad love lives. Then it turned into a few times a month when your schedules started to get more busy. It had been two months since the last time you had seen each other and here you were naked on his bed.

You would be lying if you hadn’t thought about being naked on his bed, but that was just a fantasy. You were never single at the same time and you never really thought he saw you in that way. Did he see you that way? His body seemed to think of you in that way. You tossed those thoughts to the back of your mind as you got dressed and slowly made your way downstairs.

You heard dishes clattering and a small curse come from the kitchen. Chris was still whispering to himself when you rounded the corner and saw him hovering over a plate full of cookies one in his hand and other hanging out of his mouth.

“This would have never happened if you just put a new fucking towel in the bathroom, Evans. It’s a simple thing to do.” you could make out from his cookie filled mouth.

“Hey” you make your presence known and his head shoots up.

“Hey! Did you find everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah! I mean apart from the whole towel thing.” you smile and take a seat at the island.

“Yeah sorry again about that. Did i say sorry already? I’m sorry. Like really sorry.” He scratches the back of his neck and you can't help but notice the way the fabric of his crew neck stretches over his bicep.

“Its really fine. It’s funny actually. I think it was funny.” You assure him and snag the cookie from his grip and he looks at you hurt.

“That one was mine!”

“Yeah but it looks like the best one.” you take a big bite and he cracks smile.

“You're something else.” he murmurs under his breath. “I’ll be right back.”

He walks into the living room and returns with a bottle of scotch and two glasses. You cock your eyebrow at him and he shrugs.

“ I don't know about you but i need a drink.” he says as he pours two generous glasses and slides one your way. You down it in one swing and hiss at the burn. Scotch wasn't something you usually drank but it was a welcome change to all the wine you drank before. Chris adds a little more to your glass and takes a seat on the counter next to you.

“So, what's new?” he casually asks and takes a sip, his eyes peering at you over his glass. You sighed at the question. Small talk wasnt really your thing.

“Well, work has been slow. Not a lot of theatre companies looking for someone like this” you gesture to yourself and he scoffs.

“What are you talking about? Have you seen yourself? Its their loss.” he doesn't meet your eyes and you're glad because he would see your blushing red cheeks.

“Well either way auditions don’t pay bills. How was France?” You change the subject.

“Good. Good. Long but good. You need to come with me next time. It’s gorgeous over there and the amount of bread they eat would make you feel right at home.” He nudges your ribs and you bust out laughing.

“Hey, a girl eats an entire loaf of sourdough bread at 3am ONE TIME and she's the ‘bread girl.’”

“it was really good bread.” He adds.

“Right?!”

Your giggles die down and an awkward silence falls between you two and you take a drink. There was this looming cloud of weird between you and you hated it. Things were never weird between you. Things were always easy with Chris.

“So whats the deal with Matt?” he snaps you out of your thoughts. “His brother said you guys broke up. I thought you really liked him.” you down the rest of your drink and shrug.

“Matt’s great! Just a little dull. It got boring that the rest of them. His thought of a fun friday night was playing Catan at his cousins apartment and that isn't bad per se, but not for me. You know? Besides, I'm not the only one failing in the love department. Don't think i don't know you broke things off with Jess. She called me sobbing because you “couldn't do the distance” which I know is bullshit because you told me you were “weighing your options” two weeks before you went to Paris.”

“You know me too well, it isn't fair.” he shakes his head “ I don't know. She was really nice and smoking hot.” You roll your eyes. “But she just was kind of... crazy? Is that mean?”

“I mean...she was a little... off?” you try to find a better word but that's all you could come up with. She was insane.

“i guess i’m just waiting for the right girl.” He said and places his glass on the counter. “I’m beat. I think i’m going to go to bed.” He hops off the counter and runs a hand over his face.

“Oh, yeah me too. Where should i sleep?” you ask, not knowing where to go in the five bedroom house.

“I’ll show you.”

He took your hand and lead you up the stairs and showed you to a room not much smaller than his. It had beautiful four poster bed and forrest green sheets. It smells like him in there.

“Wow.” is all you can say.

“Is this good? You can take my bed. I dont know how this mattress is no one has slept on it.”

“No this is perfect.”

You say your goodnights not before Chris asks you a thousand times if you need anything. Once he was satisfied that you were good he left for his room. You plop down on the bed and stare at the ceiling. Today was weird and you really didn't know why. It has you thinking about the way Chris would feel pressing against your back as you slept. and how he would wake you up with as soft kiss in the morning. You had never dared to entertain those thoughts before but now they're all you could think about.

A/n: Hi this was getting kind of long so i thought I would split it up into two parts. Is that something you guys would want? Let me know!

#chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans fic #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris #steve rogers

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atc74 · 5 years

Text

Huckleberry

Square(s) Filled: Western for @spngenrebingo, Love Confession for BTZ Bingo, Road Trip for @spnfluffbingo2019

Warnings: slight angst, Dean in a Stetson, tears, fluff

Summary: Y/N plans a trip and fakes a case to tell Dean how she really feels but it doesn’t exactly go the way she had planned.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2611

Written for: btzbingo, @spngenrebingo, @spnfluffbingo2019

Beta’d by: @alleiradayne, thank you love.

A/N: This may have been a request or a suggestion at one time, or it could have been a conversation between me and @sis-tafics, I don’t really remember. Either way, I like how this turned out and I hope you do too!

Like Dean’s scent? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!

“Hey Dean, I found us a case,” Y/N looked up as Dean walked into the kitchen, his dead man robe hanging open, revealing his boxers. He shuffled in his old man slippers across the cold concrete floor to the coffee pot.

“Great, I’ll let Sam know. Ready in thirty?” he asked, savoring the first sip of his coffee.

“It’s a milk run, thought maybe you and me could take this one on our own. Give Sam some alone time.” Y/N looked at Dean over the rim of her cup, waiting on his reply.

“Yeah, sounds good, Sweetheart,” he smiled and her heart flipped in her chest, lodging itself in her throat. She’d always been a sucker for his smile, but when they were alone like this and she knew it was just for her was a whole other story.

Thirty minutes later, she meet Dean in the garage as he was checking the weapons. She tossed her overstuffed bag in the back seat and joined him at Baby’s trunk.

“So we have pretty much everything we need for anything, except lamb’s blood. It’s not a djinn, is it?” He looked to her as he lowered the lid on the weapons cache.

“No. No djinn. Please no djinn ever again,” she shook her head clear of the memories of a hunt gone wrong a couple years ago. It was the turning moment in her life and her perspective of the elder Winchester. The djinn-induced dream revealed her deepest desire and while deep down she may have always known she was attracted to Dean, she never thought that a life with him could be possible. She pursed her lips together, blurting out her well practiced dialogue. “Ghost. Should be a simple salt and burn. Two, three days tops.”

They climbed in the car, doors shutting in unison. Dean turned the ignition and Baby rumbled to life, purring like a badass kitten. As he put her into drive, pulling out of the garage, Dean turned to Y/N. “Where to m’lady?”

Y/N was sure she blushed a couple different shades of pink. “You’re gonna love this, Dean... Tombstone, Arizona, good sir.”

“Tombstone? Are you shitting me right now? We have a case in Tombstone?” Dean was so excited, Baby lurched under the pressure of his booted foot when he turned his upper body to face Y/N.

“Easy cowboy!” she laughed. “It’s just a case.”

“It is not just a case. It’s a ghost in Tombstone! Ahhh! Maybe it’s Billy Claiborne! I bet it’s Billy Claiborne,” Dean smirked and turned his attention back to the road, flooring it to get to their destination. It was going to be a long drive.

And it was. With Dean so excited about a potential case in Tombstone, the mecca of all things Wild West, it was a struggle to keep him focused. The sooner they were checked into their room, the sooner her nerves would calm down. Or get worse. It was a crap shoot at this point.

Y/N had never been so nervous in her life. Sure, she hunted the worst of the worst. She’d been shot, stabbed, broken bones and has been stitched up more times than she can count. But telling her best friend she’s in love with him? It was a whole new ballgame.

Dean slowed as they entered the city limits, his eyes wide as he took in the sights of Tombstone, Arizona. After all the miles he had logged, after all the places he had been and things he had seen, it was somewhere Dean had only ever dreamed of visiting. He didn’t even care what the case was, he decided they were staying a few extra days so he could see and experience everything Tombstone had to offer. And with his favorite girl by his side.

“Hey, I called ahead and reserved us a room. I thought it was the least I could do, dragging you all the way here and all,” Y/N mentioned as he stopped at the crosswalk. “It’s just ahead, Wyatt’s Hotel and Coffee House. Two of your favorite things, Winchester. Wyatt Earp and coffee.” She giggled as she watched Dean, a wide smile breaking out across his handsome face.

“Don’t forget you and whiskey,” he winked and Y/N felt herself blush in the darkness of the Impala. “Let’s get checked in and start fresh in the morning, huh?”

After Dean parked, they got out of the car, bags slung over their shoulders and walked into the hotel. Y/N approached the desk, checking them in while Dean stood in the middle of the lobby, his mouth agape, taking in everything. The hotel was directly across the street from the O.K. Corral and there were faded photos all along the walls depicting the rich and outlawed history of the town. Y/N jingled a set of keys at Dean to get his attention and together they climbed the stairs to their room on the second floor of the hotel.

Dean took the keys from her and stared at the sign on the door announcing they were entering the Wyatt and Josephine Suite. “Seriously?!” His voice was higher than his usual baritone, accentuated by the excitement. “Wyatt and Josephine!” Dean unlocked the door and swung it wide. The room furnished with period pieces, right down to the steel frame bed and lace doilies. He didn’t even say a word about the single king size bed.

Y/N let him inspect every little piece of the room while she went to change in the surprisingly modern bathroom. She had done her research and while the website toted a ‘spacious modern bathroom’, she wasn’t sure what she was expecting. She tried to keep her mind focused on taking off her clothes and putting on her pajamas, which to be honest, was just a pair of loose boy shorts and a old band tee she had stolen from Dean. She could hear the voices in her head telling her she was wrong. She shouldn’t do this. She’d lose her best friend. But for once her heart was louder and stronger than the voices in her head. She smiled to herself and stepped out of the bathroom to find Dean already in bed, reading what appeared to be all of the brochures the hotel had provided.

“Did you know the O.K. Corral is literally across the street? Man we gotta go there! And the Birdcage Theatre. This is awesome!” Dean hadn’t stopped smiling since they left the Bunker. Y/N hoped he doesn’t stop for the entire trip.

“I knew you’d be excited about this!” she told him, climbing into the opposite of the bed. “There is a coffee shop downstairs and a continental breakfast is included. What’d’ya say we get some shut eye, then start our day with coffee and pastries, maybe some bacon?”

“Sounds awesome,” Dean repeated, placing the brochures on the bedside table and flipped off the small lamp.

Y/N woke the next morning to an empty bed and room, Dean having disappeared. Christ, there better not really be a case here! She thought to herself as she attended to her morning business. She stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped tight in a towel to find Dean sitting at the small table. Y/N wasn’t sure who was more surprised. Dean to find her in just a towel, or her seeing Dean in his best western get up, complete with light colored Stetson and boots.

Y/N took hold of herself mentally shaking the impure thoughts from her head. “Soooo, what’s with the gettup, cowboy? Or should I say Marshall?”

“Well, when in Rome…” Dean gestured to the room with a wink in her direction and she swore her knees were going to buckle if she looked at him one more second, or worse, she was going to rip the towel from her body and throw herself at him like a fool. She quickly grabbed her clothes and returned to the bathroom.

“Fuck!” she mumbled after she managed to close the door. She was going to have to fess up sooner rather than later, because in all her scheming, she forgot to pack her Fed suit. Throwing on a tank and her tightest jeans, she stepped back out in the room to see Dean holding out a hat similar to his own.

“I got you one, too, Sweetheart,” he dropped the hat on her head.

“That’s so sweet, Dean. Thank you,” she whispered, overcome with emotion at the small gesture.

“Of course, Sweetheart. I gotta take care of my best girl,” he smiled and placed a gentle kiss to your temple. “Speaking of which, your suit is hanging in the closet. I’ll go get us a table while you finish getting dressed.”

Y/N watched him swagger, yes swagger, out of the room. Her heart was beating loudly in her chest that she was surprised he didn’t hear it. She took her suit from the hanger, shocked that she forgot it, but Dean remembered. He was always looking out for her, even when neither of them realized it.

She twisted her hair up in a low bun at the nape of her neck and brushed some mascara on her lashes. She never was much for makeup, but figured a light coat couldn’t hurt. She checked herself once more before grabbing her key and making her way downstairs to meet Dean. She dreaded having to tell him the truth, but hoped he wouldn't be mad. So what if there wasn’t a case? They were in Tombstone, Dean’s Disneyland, and she was going to make the most of it for him.

Dean had secured not only a table, but he already had it loaded with hot coffee, just the way she liked it, a pile of bacon, along with a plate of fruit, and a toasted english muffin, complete with peanut butter. He was halfway through a chocolate covered bear claw when she sat down. “You spoil me, you know that right?”

“Someone has to. If it wasn’t for me and Sammy, you’d spend your days hungry and naked,” he chuckled, mumbling something under his breath that sounded a lot like “not that I’d mind” but she brushed it off as a hallucination due to minor starvation.

“You’re right. You cook for me and wash my clothes. I’m a lucky girl. I’d hate to think what I’d be without you,” she nibbled on the english muffin, licking the peanut butter from her thumb.

“You’ll never have to worry about that, Sweetheart,” he vowed, quickly changing the subject. “Now, tell me about this case.” He rubbed his hands together, ready to hear all the gory details.

“Yeah, about that. I hear there have been some sightings at the Birdcage Theatre,” she mumbled.

“Birdcage Theatre it is!” Dean finished his coffee while she ate the last bite. “Come on, you can finish your coffee on the way over. It’s just a couple blocks.”

By the time they reached their destination, she couldn’t keep it from him anymore. “Dean there isn’t a case!”

“What do you mean there isn’t a case?” Dean turned and looked at her, the look on his face a cross between annoyed and offended. “You dragged me all the way here for nothing? I can’t believe you faked a case!” He turned on the heels of his boots and walking away.

Tears streamed down her face. She hadn’t even made half the confessions she had planned and he was already pissed at her. Great. Way to go Y/N, she thought, kicking a stray rock down the street and she walked back to their hotel. Just as she reached the hotel, she spotted Dean leaning against the wooden fence at the O.K. Corral. He looked deep in thought so she let him be and walked up to their room. She shed out of her suit, carefully placing it back on the hanger and in the garment bag. Y/N dropped to the bed and curled up into a ball, letting the tears fall for everything she had just lost.

She groggily blinked her eyes open, the sun shining too brightly through the lace curtains. Dean was sitting in a chair too small for his large frame, his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. She walked over to where he sat, kneeling in front of him.

“Dean I am so sorry. I know I shouldn’t have faked a case, but I just wanted some time with you. I thought this would be the perfect spot to get away. Forget all the shit we’ve been through this year. You’re always taking care of me and I just wanted to do something nice for you for once. I’m sorry,” she sniffed, the tears coming back.

“Sweetheart, why didn’t you just tell me you wanted to get away? If you had led with that, I would’ve said yes in a heartbeat!” Dean looked down at her, crying at his feet. “Why go to all the trouble?”

“Because of you, Dean. You do everything for me. You’re always looking out for me whether you realize it or not. You feed and clothe me. You and Sam took me in without question and gave me a home and a family,” she cried.

“Because that is what you do for someone you love, Y/N.”

“I’m so sor - wait. What did you say?” she blinked rapidly, thinking that it would somehow improve her hearing. She thought she heard Dean say he loved her.

“I have been such a chicken shit! Ever since that damn djinn hunt, I’ve been lying to myself, to you. I shoulda said something, but I was afraid I was going to lose you,” Dean confessed, sliding from the chair and dropping to his knees in front of her. “I love you. I think I have since you burst into our lives. I can’t imagine mine without you.”

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It seemed so surreal, she laughed. She laughed until there were tears in her eyes for good reasons. “Oh my God, Dean. I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. Those are the sweetest words you could ever say to me.”

“Care to enlighten me, Sweetheart?” Dean didn’t look amused.

“Yeah, yeah. I, um, I planned this trip a couple months ago. I brought you here on the false pretense of a case because I felt I needed an excuse and I couldn’t wait any longer to tell you how I really felt. I love you, Dean. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me in my stupid life and just needed you to know,” she smiled up at him.

“I’m so glad you planned this. I love you, Y/N,” Dean whispered, leaning in. He pressed his lips to hers softly, testing the waters. Y/N reached up, grabbing the back of his neck and pulled him closer. She returned his kiss with vigor, pulling back from him only to catch her breath.

Dean leaned his forehead on hers. “For smart people, we’re pretty stupid. I coulda been kissing, and doing other things to you, this whole time.”

“No time like the present,” she grinned, kissing his lips once more.

“Can we still go to all the places and see all the things? There isn’t anyone I would rather experience Tombstone with than you,” Dean professed.

“I’m your Huckleberry,” she whispered. The trip may not have started the way she planned, but it certainly was turning out better than she could have dreamed of.

Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

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falseroar · 5 years

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Silver and Peppermint (Part 4)

((Part 4 of a fantasy AU, with Monster Hunter Abe teaming up with a reluctant DA to track down a murderous werewolf. After failing to shoot the wolf he saw last night, Abe takes the DA to check on the first of their three main suspects. Who...might be familiar to anyone who’s read some of my other stuff with Abe and Y/N. Also, hints of DA/Detective in this one, at least from Abe’s side.

Links to Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, and the Epilogue.))

“We should swing by the station first,” Abe said once they were outside. “Lenore should be back with those papers by now. Maybe they’ll mean something to you.”

“Possibly,” the District Attorney said. “Hopefully it can be more useful than what I found last night.”

“You couldn’t find anything to connect our five?” Abe asked.

“More like I found everything,” they answered. “Franklin’s bank served as the default mortgager for our real estate victim, who sold our grocer his new house, who made a large public donation to Garroway’s theatre last year, as did Haywood’s company, who was angling for a contract to build the bank’s new branch on the other side of the city, and so on. All perfectly legal, and nothing to hint at any kind of animosity between the five of them. As for ‘Honest’ John, his business is registered with the city and from the records when he sued the occasional client for defaulting on a loan, he has rates that are well below loan shark levels. Business seems to be booming, and he’s clearly not afraid to take someone to court if they don’t pay up.”

“So, we’ve got plenty of connections but no obvious motive,” Abe said. “Aside from our victims’ letter.”

“’If we stand together, he cannot take us all,’” the District Attorney quoted, word for word Abe was sure. What he wouldn’t do for a memory like that. “Which would lean toward Franklin or John.”

“Assuming they were suspecting the right person,” Abe said. “Even they didn’t sound sure if they could trust the others in their group. Could be our killer isn’t acting on their own.”

He thought again of that wolf in the alley. Maybe he should have mentioned it to the Mayor or to the District Attorney, but with the Mayor on edge he wasn’t about to admit he had a werewolf in his sights and missed. As for the DA, well they thought little enough of him as it was without giving them any more reason to doubt what he was capable of.

Still, there had clearly been two wolves out last night, one trying to get into Marcus’s apartment to attack his girl and his roommate at the same time the other was sniffing out Franklin’s place, maybe looking for a way to get in at yet another target.

He wondered which wolf was to blame when they arrived at the police station to find Lenore, apologetic and empty-handed.

“I swear it was there last night, but the folder with all of Marcus’s paperwork, it’s like it’s just gone,” she said. “Stephen and I went through the whole apartment, but we couldn’t find it anywhere. It’s a bright blue company folder, it’s hard to miss and I could have sworn I left it in his room, but we were so freaked out last night and ran out so fast…”

But it wasn’t the sort of thing you’d hold on to when you’re running for your life, not without a reason. If the werewolf had broken down the apartment door, literally anyone could have walked in at any point during the rest of the night and taken it.

“Would anyone have a reason to steal it?” the District Attorney asked, clearly thinking the same thing. “What kind of paperwork was in it?”

“I mean, I just flipped through it, but most of it was copies of receipts and spreadsheets. Marcus was in charge of balancing the budget at the end of every month, so sometimes he’d have to double check what we paid for this or that, but it’s not like company secrets or anything,” Lenore answered. “As far as we can tell nothing else is missing. I’m sorry, we’ll keep looking, but I thought you should know.”

“So that lead’s a total bust,” Abe muttered later, once they were back outside and walking to the first suspect’s house.

“Not entirely,” the District Attorney said. “It looks like you were right to ask about his papers, because someone was interested enough to take them. That may be why your werewolf visited them last night and went to all the trouble of scaring them off. That’s another big deviation from the first three victims, and again because of Marcus. Or in this case, something he possessed.”

“He must have known something, or at least the werewolf thought he did.” Abe rubbed his chin as he walked, eyes darting up and down the street even as his thoughts circled around the idea. “The werewolf tries to get in as a wolf, no doubt trying to hide its identity, and rushes the door when it realizes the kids are inside to scare them out. It didn’t bother with killing them before they got to the cops, because they weren’t the target.”

Except it had still chased them, and circled the group last night with every apparent intention of killing them, at least according to the cops and the kids. Had it been considering disposing of all five of them then? Or had it just been playing with them, feeding off of their fear just as it had Marcus before the kill?

Abe shook himself a little to dispel that train of thought and continued, “Fat lot of good that does us, if it’s in the killer’s hands now.”

The District Attorney surprised him with a rare smile as they asked, “We’ll see about that. Tell me, how are you at bluffing?”

They went to ‘Honest’ John’s house first, on the assumption that after last night he would be the least likely to expect to start off his day with a few questions. It helped that he lived within a few blocks of the police station, but when they reached the front door they almost walked straight into the man himself on his way out.

Because they were still on the steps, both had to look up to see the face of the man who towered over them. Clean shaven and neat in his appearance, from his close-trimmed hair and tailored suit down to his shiny shoes, Abe would have guessed him to be the banker of the group. After a moment of surprise, the man slipped into an easy, practiced smile and asked, “Can I help you?”

“Name’s Abe, and right now all you need to know is I’m working for the city. This is—”

“Y/N,” John said, his smile growing wider when he saw their surprise. “The District Attorney. I’ve seen your face in the papers, of course. Can I say, I appreciate what you and our Mayor have been doing for the city so far?”

“You can say whatever you want,” they responded stiffly. “We have some questions for you, so if we could step inside…”

“I’m afraid I was just heading into work,” John said, stepping fully outside and shutting the door behind him as he did so. “Could we talk on the way there?”

“Look, we can talk in the middle of traffic as long as you answer our questions,” Abe said and the man nodded before turning to lock the door. While his back was to them, Abe shot the District Attorney a look, but their eyes were sizing up John, a frown tugging at the corner of their mouth until he turned around.

“Forgive me, my manners are lacking,” John said and he stuck a hand out in Abe’s direction. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Abe…?”

It was a salesman’s greeting, the hand turned to put his on top. Abe knew that trick, and in response he grasped the hand with both of his own.

“Lincoln.”

“Abe Lincoln,” John said, his left hand moving forward to touch Abe’s forearm so that now this handshake was far too friendly for Abe’s liking. A smile that didn’t reach his eyes, maybe even a laugh escaped as he added, “John Booth, at your service.”

The handshake showed no sign of stopping until the District Attorney made a sound at that, at which point John let go and turned to them.

“I think you two have done enough handshaking for all of us,” they said, firmly planting both hands in their pockets just in case and ignoring the hearty laugh from John at that. “Let’s skip straight to the point. Did you know Mr. Alex Haywood, of Haywood Construction?”

“If you’ve come to question me about him, then I can only suppose you already know he had taken out a loan with my company,” John answered. He gave a heavy sigh and said, “I’m afraid I didn’t know him well, but I was sad to hear of his passing, especially in such a…brutal manner.”

He stood there, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped, before he seemed to remember that he had been going somewhere. He gestured for them to walk alongside him, and with his long gait keeping him slightly ahead he began to lead them down the street.

“Yeah, I know you must be real sad about losing that loan,” Abe said.

“Not particularly. It wasn’t a large amount, and even then, there is a good chance his estate will cover the loss. No, I am more disturbed by the rumors going around concerning Alex’s death, especially with the Mayor’s sudden call for a curfew.” John’s eyes shifted to Abe, looking him up and down before adding to the District Attorney, “I suppose the rumors must be true, if the city is hiring hunters now.”

“Two other clients of yours have also been recently murdered,” the District Attorney said, ignoring his remarks. “It would seem you’ve been unlucky in your choice of loans, Mr. Booth.”

“Three respectable members of the community, who by all means should have been trustworthy debtors. It’s not the most pleasant coincidence,” John agreed. “I am more than aware how it looks, Y/N, but what reason would I have to harm the very people my livelihood depends on? To be honest, I was rather hoping to hear you had some answer of your own for why this keeps happening.”

The District Attorney looked away, but Abe saw how John studied their reaction, just as he had noticed how the man couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of his partner since they left the house, as though fascinated by the way they moved. Abe knew having himself and the District Attorney on either side of the man to flank him was the best way to keep an eye on him and put that much more pressure on the suspect, but at the moment he wanted nothing more than to insert himself between the two of them.

Instead, he cleared his throat and, when John glanced his way as if having forgotten he was even there, said, “We know exactly what we’re looking for, and that’s why we’re talking to you now. Isn’t that right, Par—er, Y/N?”

“…That’s correct,” they said, a new steel in their voice as they fixed John with an even, unblinking stare, heedless of where they were walking. “The night before last, an employee of Alex Haywood was murdered. We know that he had company records in his possession, and some of these records were more…questionable than others. As someone financially related to Haywood, you’ll understand why we wish to see any and everything you have related to his company.”

“Is that so?” John tried to keep up the same tone of speech, but Abe could feel the way he tensed. Then again, anyone would tense up if face to face with the District Attorney’s stare, that quiet blanket of seriousness loosely wrapped around a sharp wire that felt ready to snap and lash out at anyone foolish enough to trip it. “Then please, allow me to give you a copy of our records regarding Haywood. I’m afraid it’s not much, but if it can be of any help to you…”

No one should be smiling like that right now, Abe thought as John unlocked his office door and let them in, not at my—Not at a time like this.

Feeling guilty at even the cut-off thought that strayed across his mind, Abe turned his attention to the small, well-decorated office, and immediately almost knocked over a potted plant on one of the desks while John went to one of the locked filing cabinets and pulled out Haywood’s file, then the files for the other two victims when the District Attorney reminded him.

When John handed over the folder with the copies inside, his gaze lingered on the District Attorney’s face and he took a deep breath before smiling again and saying, “I look forward to seeing you again, Y/N.”

Their eyes met his for just a second, their brows narrowing as they pulled the folder out of his hand with a little more force than was necessary before walking out without another word. Abe couldn’t stop a proud smile at that as he turned to follow.

“The same goes for you, hunter. Feel free to come see me if there’s anything I can do to help you find your wolf.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again,” Abe said before shutting the door behind him, hoping that sounded better out loud than it did in his head as he walked away.

It took almost half a block to catch up and fall in step with the District Attorney, who seemed so caught up in their own thoughts and examining the contents of the folder that he doubted they even noticed his absence. He had to repeat himself two or three times before they finally looked up and asked, “What?”

“I said, that John guy was too ready to help us out. No one’s ever that helpful without a reason.”

“It could be because he knows there’s nothing incriminating in these documents,” they answered, looking down at the papers again. Despite their distraction, they managed to navigate a hole in the sidewalk and easily sidestepped a man and his dog standing on the corner, although Abe had to grab their elbow to keep them from walking straight out into traffic. “There’s nothing here that stands out on its own, unfortunately.”

“Then we keep digging,” Abe said. He looked around, trying to take stock of the city in daylight. “We’re near the banker’s house, right? If anyone would want to keep a record of his dealings…”

A butler answered the door at Mr. Franklin’s house and nearly shut it in Abe’s face before the District Attorney flashed some documents, at which point he, reluctantly, invited them into the sitting room. It was a neat trick, and as Abe paced around the room he thought to himself that if there were ever a next job for the city then he would have to ask for a badge of his own. Nothing too fancy, just with enough of a shine to make people think twice about questioning his presence long enough to find what he was looking for.

“Please do not touch that, it is a rare piece by Asteas himself,” came a rebuke from the doorway, catching Abe just as he started to reach out his hand.

“Really? It just looks like a vase,” Abe said, pulling his hand back all the same. “Not even a good one, I’ve seen elementary school kids make better.”

“Be that as it may,” said the posh voice behind him, “It’s worth more than you would make in a lifetime, I’m sure.”

Well, now Abe wanted nothing more than to knock it off its stand. Resisting that urge, he turned to face the gentleman at the door. Well, gentleman in theory, although Mr. Franklin looked more like a reformed hippie pressed into wearing a suit, not helped by the fact he was wearing sandals. He was a stout man with a neatly trimmed beard and long hair pulled back into a bun, and he gave Abe an owlish stare behind a pair of ridiculously small glasses.

Franklin gave a heavy sigh. “Has there been another murder?”

Abe narrowed his eyes. “That’s an oddly specific question.”

“Not as odd as when a group of police officers knocked on my door at three in the morning to ask if I was dead, a werewolf, or both.”

Abe tried very hard not to look at the District Attorney for fear of seeing how they reacted to that. Instead, he said, “Well, at least we can rule out one of those options for now. Where were you and what were you doing last night?”

“In bed, and sleeping. Well, until the knocking started,” the banker answered, but he took a hasty step back when Abe crossed the room and encroached on his personal space.

“Oh, really?” Abe asked. “Then care to explain why I saw a werewolf sniffing around outside your house last night? Because it seemed real interested in you.”

The District Attorney made a noise at that, briefly reminding Abe that he had forgotten to share that little detail before now, but that thought went straight out the door when Franklin gave a choked sob and fell against the door frame as though no longer able to support himself.

“It’s coming for me,” he gasped out, one hand clutching his shirt so hard that at least one button had come undone or snapped straight off. “No, no, I told them, I told them I’d have nothing to do with it, why—”

He gave another choked sob and Abe rolled his eyes at the District Attorney to show what he thought of this act.

“Yeah, I’m sure you did, pal. Now why don’t you start naming names and we can actually get somewhere?”

“Uh, Abe…” The District Attorney started, but he gave them a shushing motion. He could handle this one.

The banker’s face turned red as he began to wheeze, his words stuttering and indecipherable.

“Come on, buddy, we don’t have all day,” Abe said and caught the banker as he started to slide to the ground.

Caught his sweating, shaking body as another gasping wheeze came out.

“Uh…Pal?” Abe asked as the District Attorney pushed past him, a single shout into the hall rousing the butler as they crossed over to the phone and began to dial.

((End of Part 4. Thank you for reading! ...In my defense, I wrote this before I had even considered doing anything for Goretober, much less that John might make a reappearance there.

Link to Part 5.

Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @purpstraw @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist @avispate ))

#markiplier #fanfiction #werewolf au #monster hunter au #wkm detective #wkm da #wkm mayor

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imjustverable · 5 years

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Bothersome Cuddles

Hey there everyone! Here’s the Ineffable husbands fic I promised. It might be a little sloppy because I’ve been in a sort of rut lately, but I’m happy with it regardless! I hope to put out more of my WIPs at a later date, but for now, I hope you can enjoy this little bit of fluff!

It's a rather gloomy day in Soho, London. Rain pours down in heavy waves, turning the streets into shallow rivers. Residents who are forced to walk home scramble along at a rapid pace; those who drive crawl around corners and through traffic, watching as the water is thrown up from beneath their tires. Anyone who doesn’t need to be out, isn’t. Thunder and lightning fill the sky, making the more uneducated person wonder if Heaven is having a rave party, with loud booming music and intense flashing lights; but of course, that's silly. Heaven doesn't throw rave parties. Or, any type of party really. Anything of that sort has always been Hell’s doing.

This is all besides the point, however. The point is, that a storm this bad has not hit since the day of the end of the world (that is, the end that never came). And although the more anxious resident might fear a flood, it really is only a storm.

Moving on to the corner of a usually bustling street, there rests a quiet bookshop, whose large windows supply a warm glimmer to the puddled walkway outside. But, although the lights are on, the sign on the door strictly reads 'closed'. This is because the owner of said bookshop, has absolutely no plans to offer shelter to any number of sopping wet humans, who would no doubt bring nothing but mold and torn pages to his fragile collection. No, no humans would not be entering the shop tonight. It holds shelter to only two inhabitants now; one demon-who had gotten himself rather drunk over the course of the past couple hours- and one angel- who was sitting peacefully, reading aloud to his partner.

Take note of the ‘was’.

"Aaaannngeeeelllll!"

Both entities had been- up until Crowley’s exclamation- lounging peacefully. The sudden call to attention causes Aziraphale to pause his reading; his eyes skimming over the top of his book to the sprawled out demon. Seeing nothing much amis, he silently returns to the words on the page.

"Aaaaanngeeeelll...Don- hick- don't g'norme A- hick- Angel..." Some small corner of Aziraphale wants to laugh at the uncontrollable hiccups punctuating Crowley's speech. Shoving that part of him into a dark corner, he instead quirks an eyebrow, tracking the clumsy man as he rolls off the couch, landing with a hefty 'thwump' on the floor. Very graceful.

"Having issues, are we my dear?"

"S…'s cold. M' cold Angel…"

"Cold? Crowley, how on earth can you be cold?" In his own opinion, Aziraphale actually thought it was quite toasty in the shop, "Perhaps you should sober up a bit dearest. You're quite out of it."

"M'not…I'ssss cold…" His words slurred beyond belief, the demon sits himself upright and looks towards the blonde, arms out-stretched, golden eyes pleading. “Cuddle me?”

At this point, Aziraphale can’t help but be a little shocked. As it is, Crowley had never outright asked to be held before. He never asked for any sort of affection really. If he ever wanted to be close to his angel, then he would simply seek him out and wrap around him from behind-- once, literally, having taken his snake form and noodled himself around Aziraphale’s stomach. That had been a particularly vicious winter, leaving the cold-blooded demon very desperate for warmth (and Aziraphale overwhelmed by the waves of love radiating off of his companion).

Looking at things from the other side, should the angel find himself longing for the demon's attention, he need only give Crowley a certain look. A look not dissimilar from the one he had given during when a paintball had stained his jacket; or during their time watching Shakespeare plays at the Globe Theatre. And as they move farther away from the apocalypse-that-wasn’t, the frequency of those looks continued to grow. For some reason, having the shop entirely to himself no longer holds the appeal it once did, meaning the redhead was never far off.

Keeping all this in mind, it should be known that the angel’s next response is formulated not with distaste towards the idea of cuddling. Rather, it is with the knowledge that the drunken man would be angry with himself later on- when he is of right mind- if he discovered that he’d been begging for attention.

“I will not indulge you while you’re drunk Crowley. Besides, I’m reading.”

“Aawwww, c’mon Azzy... Don’t be sssuch a- hic- a sssspoilssport. You know you looooove me.”

“His hiss is coming through. The dear boy really has drowned himself in alcohol, hasn’t he? I wonder if something has upset him? Also, Azzy? That’s new.” Aziraphale doesn’t voice these thoughts. Instead, he says aloud-

“I do love you dear. However, that has nothing to do with-Oh!”

He cuts off. Crowley had miracled behind him quite suddenly, throwing his long arms over the back of the couch and around Aziraphale’s neck. The poor angel can’t do anything about the blush creeping higher up his cheeks, nor the warmth flooding his chest, as the demon buries his face into the crook of his neck. Auburn hair tickles his cheek as he is nuzzled relentlessly, trapped in place by Crowley’s embrace.

“C-Crowley!” Aziraphale squeaks. This forward behavior is really starting to throw him off balance.

"Mmm...s'nice...waaarrmmmm Angel...my- hick- my ssssssoft Angel…” The ginger hisses sweetly into his ear, and the angel can’t help but melt into the sunny feeling that drowns the air.

"Oh…really now, you old serpent.." It was meant to be a playful reprimand, but came out in a wistful sigh.

See, everyone knows that angels have the ability to sense love when they’re in the vicinity of it. But what some may not realize is that love, to an angel, can present itself in a variety of ways. Most people know and imagine love as feeling cozy and comfortable. Like being wrapped in a hug: a big bear hug that may be just a bit too tight, but you really don’t mind because you really love the person who’s currently squeezing the air from your lungs. And in many cases, that is true. But love can also feel like a crisp autumn day; like the satisfying crunch of shedded leaves beneath strolling feet, and the lulling rustle of dry reeds in the wind. It can feel like stepping into an air conditioned building after being out in the sweltering heat; instantly refreshing, and something one wants to just lay down and embrace. Or, it can feel like a beautiful spring day, complete with clear puffy clouds, nature’s vibrant colors, and the perfect occasional breeze; it's a warmth so lovely that it can make the skin prickle, and is meant to be enjoyed until the very end.

That last sort is exactly what Aziraphale experiences every time Crowley is nearby. The demon's love is everything new and brilliant and unpredictably beautiful. It is those fault-less spring days, bringing hope to his angel's world after a miserable, unforgiving winter. Each tender whisper and gentle touch brings another bud of confidence into his garden. Every patient kiss and protective embrace allows those buds to sprout into the flowers of affection. Remarkable things, those flowers, always in the back of Aziraphale’s mind.

They’re there now as he glances briefly at his book, miracled onto the side table sometime during Crowley's onslaught of adoration. A few seconds pass...and then a small huff, paired with a loving smile.

"Very well then, you stubborn fiend. Come here.”

“Woo~!” At the resignation, Crowley jerks his head up and beams; before all but throwing himself over the back of the couch. Rather miraculously, he doesn’t land on the floor, but instead, tumbles perfectly so that his head is level with Aziraphale’s stomach, against which he chooses to rest his cheek. And like a child clinging to their favorite toy, his uncoordinated arms take to hugging his partner’s waist. “ L- hick- love my angel...love...love you! Y’r my angel.”

Loosening his grip, Crowley wiggles around a bit in a weak attempt to reposition himself, and eventually ends up lying across Aziraphale’s lap, dark glasses crooked on his face after the endeavor.

“You are mine...arn’t ya ‘Ziraphale?” Wide and dazed sunflower eyes gaze up at him with intense hope and fear. One hand tightly clutches the front of his blue plaid pajama top, as if the ginger is afraid he’ll fall if he lets go. His tension remains until Aziraphale nods and pushes back some fiery locks from his face.

"What a silly question...of course dear boy. Yours, forever and always."

The demon’s expression jumps from somber and worried to pure elation. His nose wrinkles in a cute fashion, eyes squinting as his smile splits across his face. Looking away from Aziraphale, he instead turns to stare up at the ceiling. His free hand balls into a fist, which he shakes victoriously at the sky.

“YA HEAR THAT GOD? HE’SSSSS MINE! CAN’T TAKE ‘IM BACK FROM ME!” Crowley shouts so loudly that a few strangling Londoners passing by the front door take pause for a moment, wondering if they should be concerned about the sound of a madman screaming inside a bookshop-- and then, in proper fashion, have their attention redirected to the rain, and hurry on their way. Poor Aziraphale, trapped as he is with Crowley on his lap, can only recoil slightly and press a silencing finger to his lips.

“Now now darling. Best to not challenge Her. Luck is upon us that She hasn’t smitten us already.”

“Oh I’m smitten alright!” Crowley throws his arms up into the air, and sings to an unknowable tune inside his head. “I’m smitten with you~”

The angel’s round cheeks pinken as he stares adoringly at his demon, who continues to hum along to whatever song is in his head. At this point, it's all he can do to not lie down with Crowley and kiss him senseless (that is, if he weren’t already madly drunk). He doesn’t, however, try to stop himself as he reaches out to comb his fingers through the wild red hair, noting how his lover instantaneously goes silent at the touch. The already loose-limbed man all but melts into the easy movement, eyes fluttering shut, lips parted in a breathless sigh. He shudders at the electric sensations trickling down his spine. By the time Aziraphale speaks again, Crowley is barely coherent enough to register his words.

“And I with you my dear. And I with you.”

***

(The next morning)

Sunlight, bright and beautiful and blinding, swarms through the many windows of an old bookshop seemingly frozen in time at a corner in Soho, London. Dust dances and sways in the golden rays to the song of the early morning birds.

The outside world sparkles under the appraising light of a new day’s sun, dew-coated grass glimmering as if each blade was laced with diamonds. Shop owners trudge sleepily through the doors of their establishments, just bringing to life the kitchens that will soon be crowded and bustling. Somewhere a church bell tolls...once...twice...then three, four, five times. All the humans still lost to their slumber only roll over in their covers.

Hidden away amongst shelves, sprawled out on a couch in a back room, an angel and a demon are in quite the same position. Seemingly dead to the world as they're wrapped in each others arms. The angel is trapped between the back cushions and his partner, whose upper half is curled up against his chest. Towheaded curls are left in a mess of stuck up, static-charged coils, their usual sense or order long lost.

The demon, with his head tucked under his angel's chin, takes in a deep, contented breath. He'd woken up once in the night, just to miracle away the major hangover wracking his system. In those few minutes, the events of the night had revealed themselves to him with a rushing clarity. A heavy blush had blossomed across his entire face as he looked down upon the angel, who had somehow ended up beneath him.

"...forever and always, eh Angel? Hmm...think I might just hold you to that one."

The fuzzy thought is to be the last thing he'll recall later on; as the two wake and spend several flustered minutes trying to explain themselves, before finally giving in to their emotions and spending a good portion of the day napping on the sofa.

#Good Omens #Ineffable Husbands #Aziraphale #Crowley #Fanfiction #Fluff #Domestic Fluff #Softie Crowley #Crowley's been drinking #And he's feeling drunk and insecure #And the boy #Just wants some loving reassurance #And its just a really sweet time #Oh #And God gets called out #Ineffable Idiots #I just really love these boys

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