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queenshelby · 3 years

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Cheat Pass (Part Three of Three)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 3,500

Warning: Pure Filth and Smut, Anal, Rimming, MMF Threesome

Notes: There will not be any romantic involvement here. This series is going to be pure smut on its face value. It is also not based on Cillian’s actual marriage. It’s pure fiction.

Filming of Season 6 of Peaky Blinders has come to an end your fiancé Trey was meeting you in Liverpool, which is where you introduced him to the cast and the crew.

During his visit, you went to the local pub for dinner, which is where you both met with Cillian and some other.

Trey knew about your relations with Cillian and condoned it by having given you the cheat pass. But, whilst he knew that you slept with each other more than once, he didn’t know what exactly you were getting up to.

All he knew was that you enjoyed yourself and were a little sad that this was it.

"You want me to ask Cillian to go back to the apartment with us?" your fiancé asked after a couple of beers, noticing how you looked over at him with eyes full of lust.

Nodding your head, you smiled back at him. You never had a threesome before but the idea excited you. Trey couldn't help but sigh at what he perceived to be a slight attempt to look innocent at him.

“Don’t pretend to be all shy now” Trey eventually laughed before asking whether you enjoyed fucking him.

"I did…and I would love to have sex with you both” you said shyly as Trey’s teeth flashed as he grinned and stepped towards you. Your big eyes gazed back at him, as if you were starring through to his soul.

"I should've known that you were into some kinky shit” your fiancé then chuckled and you threw your arms around his neck and leaned in and softly kissed his lips. Trey still appeared to be baffled by your newfound lust and naughtiness.

"Luckily for you, I don't mind sharing" Trey said as his fingertips caressed over your skin. Quirking your eyebrows up, you bit down on your lower lip.

Right then and there, Trey had to kiss you and you both of you couldn’t help but notice that Cillian was looking over, smiling.

‘Now go talk to Cillian for me and I'll be seeing you in a few hours” you said as your lips drifted apart and Trey nodded back at you as he stepped away.

"Alright, I'll do it. Only for you, baby” he said.

***

‘Well Y/N, that I didn’t expect’ Cillian chuckled as he walked into your studio apartment together with your fiancé. ‘Not from you anyway’ he then said, grinning as he did.

‘Yet, you are here’ you said as your fiancé was pouring three glasses of wine.

‘Have you ever done this sort of thing before?’ Cillian then asked and you and Trey both shook your heads.

‘You?’ you asked Cillian who was still grinning his head off.

‘A few more times than you’ he chuckled before taking a sip from his wine getting rid of his shirt pretty much immediately.

Watching Cillian undress completely unbothered by your fiancé’s presence, you pulled at the straps of your dress and then began to shove it down from your hips.

‘Jesus babe’ Trey said surprised as you pushed the dress down your legs and stepped out of it. Already completely naked, with only the high heel pumps remaining on. You placed your hands on your hips, spreading your legs out to give the men a good view of your entrance down below.

‘So, what are you two waiting for?’ you asked and, within moments, you watched both men undress eagerly.

‘So wet already and we haven’t even started’ Cillian chuckled as Trey reached out with a hand, fondling one of your breasts and Cillian reached out with another, running it in between your slit.

Before you knew it, you were throwing your arms around them both. You pulled them in, shoving their faces down to your tits.

You loved having two men lusting over your body and you roamed the palm of your hands down their backs, slowly caressing their skin while fighting off the urge to finger yourself, as they continued.

Cillian was the first to stop, moving his face away from your breasts and then Trey did the same.

You turned your head slightly, looking back at Cillian as your eyes met. You used your left hand to wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. Trey caught sight of this from the corner of his eyes. He came to a halt from sucking on your breast, watching as you were lip-locked with Cillian.

You traded multiple kisses while Trey did his best to captivate your attention by squeezing both of your breasts in his hands. When you finally stopped kissing Cillian, it was now his turn and, just as you kissed your fiancé passionately, Cillian grabbed your hand placed it onto his hard cock.

‘Common Y/N, you’ve got another free hand for your fiancé, don’t you?’ he chuckled and, within seconds, you had gripped both cocks.

You slightly squeezed Cillian while glaring back into your fiancé’s eyes.

Taking your time to tease the men, you waited before slowly falling down to your knees. Your right hand held Cillian’s long cock while your left hand was gripping Trey's with authority. Situated on your knees with the discarded dress directly below you, you finally set your eyes on those two long poles. You were eager to taste them while hearing your fiancé moan.

‘It’s been too long Y/N, did he take good care of you?’ Trey asked.

‘Very good care…and he taught me a few things too’ you said as your eyes shifted up towards Cillian.

‘Common Y/N, show your fiancé what you learned’ Cillian grinned and, with those words spoken, you parted your lips and guided Cillian’s cock into your mouth. Letting out a muffled moan, you wasted no time bobbing your head up and down. As you sucked him, your left-hand wanked Trey's shaft back and forth.

‘Damn’ Trey groaned, enjoying watching you pleasure Cillian with your mouth.

Cillian groaned, letting out a loud moan as his eyes focused on you down below. You sucked him inch by inch, moving your hand down to the base of his cock as you gripped it. After a few more seconds of slow sucking, you pulled your lips back to the head and released his cock with a popping sound.

Turning your head to the left side, it was time to give Trey's shaft some oral attention. She started by spitting on it and then shoving it into your mouth. As you began to suck him, Trey was relieved.

‘Common Y/N, you can do better. Be a good girl for your fiancé and take his cock all the way down your throat ’ Cillian groaned, watching you as, finally, you pushed your mouth all the way down, quickly deepthroating him hard enough to force yourself into gagging.

As you sucked Trey, you used your right hand to jerk Cillian’s long shaft back and forth. With a slight choke, you pulled Trey's cock out of your mouth and then went back down on it.

‘She's fucking dirty, taking it all in, you are one lucky man’ Cillian praised and hearing Cillian speak aloud was enough to distract you. You pulled your lips back to the head of Trey's cock, releasing it with a popping sound. Your eyes shifted up at him as you grinned deviously.

Then, you shoved Cillian’s cock back into your mouth and then let go of his shaft, properly sliding it to the back of your throat to give him an equal feeling of your deepthroat skills. He groaned, gritting his teeth momentarily before you pulled your lips back up and proceeded to bob your head up and down.

“That's what I like, there you go, such a good girl” Cillian groaned again as he was feeling the pace pick up.

"God, that is so fucking hot” Trey observed as you gorged yourself on Cillian’s cock. Over and over, you bobbed your head up and down only to stop and pull away with sticky saliva strings dangling back to it. Again, you alternated by pushing Trey’s cock back into your mouth. This time, you sucked him harder and faster and he slowly got onto his knees so that you had to position yourself on all fours.

‘Fuck me Cillian, please’ you huffed out with Trey’s cock in your mouth.

‘Where do you want it? In your pussy or your tight little ass?’ Cillian asked, causing Trey to gulp as you never liked anal.

‘My ass is nowhere near ready for you guys yet’ you chuckled before concentrating again on sucking your fiancé.

In the meantime, Cillian had moved down on his knees, quietly motioning to you to climb up on all fours. Before you did so, he leaned in and kissed your back. Trey was quick to realize that Cillian would be fucking you from behind and, while Cillian got in position behind you and began to tease you by rubbing his cock down between your thighs, Trey watched with wide eyes.

As you continued to suck your fiancé, you felt the head of Cillian’s cock pushing past your vulva lips. You let out a moan and glanced behind your right shoulder to offer him a wink.

‘Fuck, she is so fucking tight’ Cillian groaned as he entered you and you let out a loud moan against Trey’s cock.

Trey felt the vibrations from the noises you were making around his cock while, at the same time, hearing Cillian let out a grunt and moan. It felt like time had passed so much since the last time Cillian had his cock in this pussy, though it had been less than three days. He let out a sigh of relief as he began to buck his hips and thrust inside you. Trey watched, seeing how slow Cillian was going before he panted his hands onto your head and began to pump his cock into your mouth.

‘You like when he fucks you don’t you?’ Trey asked, making you suck his cock, wanting to match the overall speed Cillian was going in.

Once more, your mouth was making all those slobbering and sucking noises that had become music to the ears of both men.

‘I like it so much, yes, fuck’ you moaned around Trey’s cock as Cillian smacked your ass then planted his hands down on your hips. He could feel his balls smacking against the undersides of your ass. Slowing down a bit, Cillian knew he had to come to a halt. Trey knew when to stop as well, but he made one final effort to shove his cock all the way down your throat. Listening to your gag and choke on his shaft before he pulled it out. You coughed and a flood of saliva trickled from your open mouth, streaming down your neck and onto the bed sheets below. When Cillian pulled his cock from your pussy, you swallowed your breath before glancing behind you.

Then it was Trey’s turn to have you and he was quick to change spots with Cillian.

‘You are going to be a good girl and let me fuck your face while he fucks you?’ Cillian asked and, of course, you complied with his request and, just when Trey entered you, Cillian took hold of your hair and shoved his cock into your mouth.

‘That’s it. Good girl’ Cillian said, making you gag and Trey was surprised to see how much you enjoyed him being so rough with you.

After several more minutes, Trey pulled out of you, clearly needing a break. You were surprised that he was lasting so long to start with.

‘Are you alright?’ you huffed, causing Trey to nod.

‘I will be joining you guys again in a minute. For now, I want to simply watch my fiancé enjoying herself and being fucked’ he said and Cillian couldn’t help but smirk.

‘Do you want to watch her tight little ass being stretched open, hmm?’ Cillian asked with a smug smile and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the filth coming out of his mouth.

‘We tried this once but…’ your fiancé went on to say and, just as he did, he watched Cillian push you onto the bed with your ass up and exposed to him.

‘Slow, remember’ you reminded Cillian, interrupting Trey’s sentence as, suddenly, you felt Cillian’s tongue dip into your wetness and then run upwards over your tight little backside.

‘Holy fuck’ you cried out, not expecting Cillian’s mouth to end up there, right in between your butt cheeks.

He circled his tongue firmly over your anus, making you moan and wanting to be filled.

‘Oh god, please’ you moaned as he continued his assault on your ass until, finally, he pulled away.

‘Please what?’ he asked cheekily and you knew that he wanted you to beg.

‘Put your cock in my ass. Please fuck my ass’ you moaned and, just as you did, you could hear Trey moan at your words.

‘Not yet’ Cillian said and, without lube, he gently pushed his index finger inside your rear entrance while massaging your clit with his other hand.

‘Oh god, please….your cock…I want it…I need it…please’ you begged again just as his tongue joined his fingers once again, making you squirm.

Cillian couldn’t help but chuckle and, after a minute or two, he pulled his finger out of your ass.

‘Throw me the lube man’ Cillian then asked Trey who was watching your ass being playing with while stroking his cock on the armchair across from the bed.

Trey nodded and walked over towards you, handing Cillian the lube as he sat down next you and watched Cillian push his length directly up your ass.

‘Oh my god’ you moaned as you took him, inch by inch and Cillian moved his hands to your hips. With a soft grip, he began to thrust upward, driving his cock into your ass while Trey watched speechlessly. You moaned, cooing for both men as you felt every inch of Cillian’s long cock pumping up into your ass. You used your left hand to reach down to your neglected pussy and began fingering yourself.

‘He’s in my ass, fuck’ you moaned, looking at your fiancé, who was surprised that you could take it. It was a display of pure lust and he sat there for a moment, enjoying this sight and the sound of your and Cillian’s bodies smacking together in a solid rhythm.

‘You have become so good at this. I think you are ready for another cock, don’t you think?’ Cillian moaned and, when Cillian said that, you gazed forward and looked at Trey’s face. You moaned, trying your best to give him those desperate puppy dog eyes. It wasn't about begging, but you wanted him to see your desire without saying any words. Nodding your head wasn't good enough for Trey however.

‘I want both of your cocks inside me’ you moaned eventually as Cillian continued to thrust upward into your ass while pulling you back and allowing Trey to lie down on the bed.

Without allowing Cillian to slip out of your ass, Trey guided himself into your soaking wet pussy and you couldn’t help but scream aloud. You felt so full.

‘Oh my fucking god’ you cried. The sensation of having your holes stretched by two big cocks was enough to make you louder than you had been before. Both cocks pumped inside of you, off set from a rhythm with Cillian thrusting into your ass followed after Trey pumping.

‘You like that, huh!? You like getting fucked by two guys’ Cillian observed as your breathing became louder and heavier.

‘So much, fuck, oh god fuck me’ you moaned and, the more you yelled, the harder Cillian pumped his cock into your ass. Again and again, he gave you everything he had. Trey had slowed down from pumping into you, but his cock was still deep within. You were lost in a heavenly bliss of pleasure with these two men fucking you.

‘Fuck me! Don't stop!’ you moaned feeling your orgasm approach.

‘That’s it, come for us Y/N’ Cillian grunted while pulling his right hand back to quickly spank your ass. For now, Cillian was the only one thrusting while Trey was entirely distracted, concentrating on not coming yet himself.

‘Fuck, oh my god’ you moaned as, finally, just like before, you felt both of them thrusting into you. One cock after the other with Cillian bucking his hips slightly faster than Trey.

When you screamed again, Cillian made an effort to thrust harder. He grabbed at your hips, moving his hands beneath Marcus who was now pulling your ass cheeks apart for Cillian and Cillian loved to watch his cock pumping in and out of your ass while listening to your moans and cries of pleasure.

Over and over, you felt inch after inch of both cocks pumping into your holes. Cillian began grunting and perhaps that meant he was close enough.

Gritting his teeth, Trey pumped into you harder and faster now and, when you gasped with your lower lip falling, that was enough to tell them both this was it. Your legs began shaking as Trey felt the flood of your juices from within. He closed his eyes, grunting as you screamed out.

Your voice calling out with that slurred speech was enough to distract Cillian and Trey who both also grunted aloud but proceeded with their motions until you came down from your high.

‘Come on and help me up! Get me down on the floor! Neither of you came yet...’ you eventually huffed out after they had both pulled out of you.

Without replying in spoken word, Cillian moved his hands over to your hips and then both he and Trey aided you. Once you got up you wasted no time falling down to your knees on the floor. Cillian stood at your left hand side, soon joined by Trey as he put his feet to the floor and stepped around. Once again, you were down on your knees ready to service those two big cocks that were all for you. You reached out with your hands, grabbing them. Trey's cock was slick, coated in your juices that dripped to the carpet floor below. As you wanked them, you gazed up at both men. your hands moved up and down at a quick pace, prompting Trey to smile at you.

‘Suck it one last time for me, baby’ Cillian groaned, knowing that this would be your final goodbye.

You didn't reply. Instead, you shoved his cock between your lips and loudly slurped on it. You didn’t care about the fact that he had just fucked your ass and began to bob your head up and down, devouring it inch after inch.

‘Fuck Y/N, take it all in. Take my cock down your throat’ Cillian groaned as you gazed up at his face as you sucked the first few inches and then used your left hand to begin wanking up in sync with your lips moving down. You attempted to wank Trey's cock but he snatched it away from you, eagerly wanking himself as he had aimed it towards your face. She continued to suck Cillian, making him moan.

‘That’s it Love. Are you ready for all this cum?’ he groaned and you knew right when to stop, pulling your lips off Cillian’s shaft with a popping sound. You let go of his cock, allowing him the privilege to wank himself as you sat back on your knees. Both cocks were aimed directly at your face. All you could do was grin, knowing that within seconds, you were about to be a sticky dripping mess. You moved your hands down to your breasts, holding them up in case any cum missed your face.

"Cum for me! Give it to me!” you moaned as you opened your mouth and, right as you finished your words, Cillian turned his head towards his length and filled your mouth with rope after rope of his warm cum.

‘That’s it Y/N, fucking swallow it all’ he groaned and so you did, swallowing his warm cum before turning your head towards Trey and repeating the process. When Trey was done, squeezing his shaft to force out the final drops that only trickled down onto the floor. Out of breath, both men stood there drained completely with you gazing up at them.

‘That was fucking amazing’ you grinned, licking your lips.

‘Well, you two should come and visit in Dublin one day. No doubt my wife would love to meet you both’ Cillian suggested.

Tag List:

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-my-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15 @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r @tellingyouastory @captivatedbycillianmurphy @namelesslosers @littlewhiterose @ttzamara @ttzamara @cilleveryone

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy smut #Peaky Blinders

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cali-holland · 3 years

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An Irregular Romance ★ Harrison Osterfield One Shot

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield X Reader

Summary: Over five years ago, Harrison followed his heart (a.k.a. you) to drama school, and the day he asked you out was the day he discovered you had a boyfriend. He thought that part of his past was behind him, but then he was cast as Leo in The Irregulars and you were cast as Bea. Romance and shenanigans ensue as he tries to navigate the resurrection of his crush on you.

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: spoilers for The Irregulars, swearing, drinking (reader gets v drunk at one point), cheating boyfriend + “open relationship” drama

Masterlist in bio

*Gif is not mine

A/N: inspired by harrison literally saying he followed the girl he liked to drama school but she didn’t like him back; the drama school is the brit school (idk if that’s what he was talking about but age wise it works better); also darci is 18+ in this fic bc it just fits better to make her around their age; plus i had to re-post this bc the tags didn’t work so rip

also just like to say a massive thank you to @duskholland for proofreading this for me :) you’re the best! this fic would be missing 90% of its commas if it wasn’t for you lmao

❁❁❁❁❁

Harrison had been buzzing with excitement all week. While he knew for sure that he had landed the role of Prince Leo in The Irregulars, he had no idea who the other cast members were. His agent learned from Netflix that they’d announce the cast on Saturday, so now here he sat, anxiously awaiting the news as he drank another pint with his good friends.

“Anything yet?” Tuwaine asked, refreshing his Twitter timeline.

“Nope.” Harrison said with a shake of his head as Netflix’s Instagram page remained unchanged as another minute went by.

“Maybe they’re announcing it at midnight.” Tom shrugged, trying to be useful to ease his friend’s nerves.

“Everyone would be asleep.” The blond replied before taking another long drink of his beer.

“Well, congratulations whenever they officially announce it.” Harry stated, standing up with his empty glass. “Next round’s on me.”

The conversation began to wander off, and Harrison found himself deep in thought, pondering his mysterious, new castmates. Would he like them? Would they like him? Were they big names or no names? Were they people he had screen-tested with (because, truthfully, he only screen-tested with a few girls, but even then, he didn’t screen test with all of the potential actresses)? As he got stuck, trying to think of someone he’d actually liked when they screen-tested together, he was snapped out of his thoughts by Tom yelling.

“It’s up!” Tom held his phone in the middle of the table as he, Harrison, Tuwaine, and Harry, who was now back with more beer, looked over the cast. A sense of pride soared through the group at Harrison’s picture and name being on the official Netflix page for The Irregulars. Harrison read over the other names, wondering if he knew any by happenstance. Just as he recognized one name in particular, Tom spoke up.

“Y/N Y/L/N? Isn’t that the girl you fancied in drama school?” Tom asked with a smirk. His smirk seemed to widen as Harrison blushed a deeper shade of red.

“No, no, no!” Harrison grumbled, taking out his phone to look over the post for himself because maybe, if he looked from his own account, the cast would magically change. When he looked at your name and picture right beside his, realization hit him. He slumped over, putting his head down on the table regretfully.

“I’d nearly forgotten about Haz’s girl that wasn’t his girl.” Tuwaine joked.

“Wait, what girl?” Harry questioned, out of the loop.

Perhaps the stupidest but best choice Harrison had ever made in his life was following you, his biggest crush, to drama school. Why his mother even let him chase after a girl like that was beyond him; he thought she should’ve advised him against it, but with the whole “follow your heart” attitude, his mum was his biggest supporter. He did his best to impress you, to get you to notice him, but you were unfazed by him. The day that he finally got the courage to ask you out was the day that he learned you’d had a boyfriend for the past two months.

Though he didn’t get the girl in drama school, he actually enjoyed it, and look where he ended up now— a new Netflix show was on the horizon for him. Despite the fact that he was (and still sort of is) crushed and embarrassed by the fact that you (very kindly) rejected him five years ago, drama school turned out to be a blessing.

“Harrison, here,” Tom laughed as he clapped his friend’s shoulder as Harrison still didn’t lift his head from his pitiful position, “thought he’d pursue acting because Y/N wanted to be an actress. He didn’t realize that in order to get her attention, he’d have to actually talk to her.”

That was enough to make Harrison lift his head, eyeing his friend questioningly. Cutting Tom off, he defended himself, “What do you mean? I did talk to her.”

“Right— you’d have maybe one conversation with her every three weeks.” Tom turned back to his brother, “Anyway, Haz finally asked her out and, turns out, she’d been dating this other guy for months.”

“Whatever. I only asked her out because you and Tuwaine shoved me into her. Maybe she doesn’t even remember me.” Harrison pulled out his phone to check over Netflix’s Instagram, wanting to see for himself the new cast again. When he opened the app, it notified him of all the new followers he had gotten, and, with one glance at the list of names, one account stood out to him.

‘@yourusername started following you’. Harrison let out a sigh, not wanting to dwell on this any further.

“She works fast.” Harry teased, looking over the blond’s shoulder.

“We’re co-stars now. She probably followed everyone else too.”

As if on cue, a new notification came through his Instagram— ‘@yourusername sent you a message’. With bated breath, he opened it to see the message that confirmed his worst fear— you remembered him.

‘Hey stranger! How have you been?’

❁❁❁❁❁

With every passing day, Harrison’s excitement for this new big project grew… but so did his dread about seeing you again. He wasn’t entirely sure now as to why his gut was filled with butterflies mixed with anxiety just thinking about you. You were only ever nice to him, both before and after he asked you out. It all led him back to the same conclusion that he still had a thing for you, but yet again, maybe it’s just life that your first real crush always has some power over you.

As he walked down the strangely long hallway to the conference room, he adjusted the collar of his letterman’s jacket. Today was the big day— the first table read for The Irregulars, and the first day he’d be confronted by you after all these years. Just on the other side of this door, his co-stars and the main production crew were waiting. Everything was real now; production would start in just a few days.

With one last nervous breath, he pushed open the heavy oak door and entered the room. People were chatting as they sat around the large conference table, which had small name cards at each seat. Harrison’s eyes found you almost immediately. You were locked into a conversation with your co-star, Darci, seated to your left for the table read. To your right was one of the last available seats, and Harrison’s name was on the little card on the table. All hopes of being unnoticed by you were instantaneously gone as he took his seat beside you.

“Fancy seeing you here.” You said to Harrison with a laugh, and he was instantly reminded of how that laugh basically drove him to where he was today.

“How long has it been?” Harrison asked, trying to play it cool like he hadn’t been rehearsing this day in his mind for the past several months.

“Far too long.” You smiled.

As the last few people trickled into the room, introductions flew around the table as everyone met their new coworkers. After a cold read-through of the script and a few words from the show’s creator, the table read was deemed over. Just when Harrison thought he was free to forget about your existence for a few more days, you pulled him aside.

“Hey, Darci and I were going to get drinks with McKell and Jojo. You should come.” You offered, and Harrison chanced a glance across the room to where Darci was chatting with your other two main co-stars.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Harrison replied. He cleared his throat before giving you a definite nod that yes, that’d be a great idea.

“Perfect.”

And just like that, the five of you made your way across town to a pub. Darci had chosen the spot, explaining that it was the best place for drinks in Liverpool, and, seeing as she’d lived there her whole life, none of you tried to argue with her.

Harrison felt a strange pit in his stomach as everyone talked and laughed over some beers, as if you weren’t all strangers a few hours ago. His eyes always seemed to land on you and your contagious smile. You looked almost exactly how he remembered you, and you still were the same happy, go-lucky girl he’d fallen hard for. It was crazy to him how quickly you gave him butterflies, how effortlessly you made him feel like a silly schoolboy all over again. He couldn’t help but wonder if you thought he’d changed since his school days, too… or if you even thought about him enough to notice. So far, you’d made no indication that he was anyone besides an old friend from drama school, making him hope you didn’t remember that dreadful day.

As you and Darci excused yourself for a bathroom break, Harrison gave himself a little reminder that he was meant to be getting to know all of his co-stars right now and wasn’t meant to be focusing so intently on you. He took another sip of his beer, turning back to Jojo and McKell.

“So how do you and Y/N know each other?” McKell asked, and Jojo tried to hide his shit-eating grin behind his beer.

“Drama school, a few years ago.” Harrison replied, trying to play ignorant.

“Ah, so it’s a schoolboy crush, then?” Jojo questioned teasingly.

Harrison felt his face heat up. Jojo and McKell were practically strangers to him, and they already knew. He was cornered, “Is it that obvious?”

“A little.” McKell said while Jojo simultaneously replied, “Very.”

“Just ask her out.” Jojo encouraged.

“That’s the problem— I did.” Harrison replied, and both of their jaws dropped.

“No way. Did she let you down easy at least?” McKell’s voice was somewhere between a disbelieving, teasing, and pitiful tone.

Harrison scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “Well, yeah? I mean she wasn’t rude about it, but it was still a bit awkward. She was dating this other guy at the time. He didn’t go to our school, though, so I had no clue about him.”

“That’s rough.” Jojo grimaced, before he gave Harrison a hopeful smile, “Maybe she’s single now.”

“I’ve been rejected by Y/N once— I don’t need her to reject me a second time.” He shook his head with a small laugh to conceal his embarrassment. He took a drink of his beer, hoping that would calm his nerves a little.

“Incoming,” McKell said quietly, nodding in the direction of the bathroom.

“What’d we miss?” Darci asked as she slipped back into her seat. You remained standing to put your jacket on, both you and Darci completely unaware of the boys’ conversation.

“Nothing, just Jojo being an idiot.” McKell joked, to which his newfound friend just punched him in the arm, taking another long drink of his beer.

“I think I might head back to the hotel.” Your words were met with a collective groan from three of your co-stars— Harrison silently frowned as he sipped on his beer.

As your head was down to collect your things, Jojo swiftly kicked Harrison under the table. Harrison looked at him quizzically, sending him a “what the hell was that for” look. When his co-star just nodded his head encouragingly towards you, Harrison got the idea.

“I’ll walk you.” Harrison said, making you look over at him. Standing up from his seat, he insisted, “I was just about to head out, too.”

“Okay,” You smiled, still completely unaware of his interaction with Jojo.

After you all exchanged phone numbers and created a group chat lovingly titled “The Irregz”, you and Harrison left the pub. You fell in step together, walking along the sidewalk in the chilly Liverpool air back to the hotel that you’d all be staying at for the next few months.

“So what have you been up to since graduation?” Harrison asked you, his hands deep in the pockets of his letterman’s jacket.

“All sorts of things, really.” You shrugged with a smile, “I got a few TV roles here and there, did some modeling, but so far none of it has really stuck, so I’m hopeful that this will be a foot in the door. What about you?”

“The same as you, really, but, instead of shows, I’ve done some short films.”

“I see you’re still best friends with Tom.” You said in a teasing tone. Harrison felt an unusual, upsetting tug on his heartstring. Not noticing any change in his demeanor, you continued with a laugh, “It’s funny. I would’ve placed my bets on you being world-famous after graduation.”

“Me?” He questioned, surprised by your words.

“Yeah, you didn’t go to LAMDA for nothing.” You playfully nudged his arm with your elbow, and he felt his cheeks heat up once more. “Don’t be modest— I’m not wrong.”

“Can’t argue with that logic.” A laugh passed his lips, any previous bashful reservations slowly fading away.

Before Harrison could say anything further, your phone began to ring. You fished it out of your pocket and barely looked at the caller ID before sending it to voicemail. Your actions were fast, but Harrison still caught the name of who was calling, Davey, followed by a red heart emoji. And that’s when it hit him— you were still with the same boyfriend from drama school, all those years ago.

And just like that, Harrison felt a tsunami wave of heartbreak from drama school wash over him.

“Hey, Y/N!” Harrison called out as he stumbled his way over to stall you from leaving school. He had one hand holding onto his book bag strap tight enough that his knuckles were turning white, and he shuffled his other through his hair.

“Hey, is everything alright?” You asked, concerned at how nervous he seemed.

“Yeah, um, well, tonight’s opening night for West Side Story, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me? I know it’s your favorite play, and it’s one of mine too, so, yeah, I thought maybe we could go together?” He was sure that he’d never sounded so unsure of himself. Truth is, he didn’t want to ask you out right now, but Tom and Tuwaine had quite literally shoved him in your direction, physically encouraging him. He felt rushed and unprepared.

When you smiled so captivatingly and softly at him, he felt his racing heart speed up even more. Was this it? Was he really going to take you on a date? He thought to himself. His hopes weren’t up for long as you spoke up, “I can’t. I’ve already got tickets for tonight. I’m going with Davey.”

“Davey?”

“My boyfriend.” You replied, a hint of guilt in your voice.

His heart shattered. The only reason he was here, at this school, was because of you, and now he just had all of his hopes for any future dates with you thrown out the window.

“You and Davey are still together?” Harrison wondered aloud as you two arrived at the hotel.

“Yeah,” Your response was hesitant and quiet. He knew why— there was that elephant in the room between the two of you.

Before he could stop himself from mentioning it, he blurted out, “You don’t have to feel guilty about it, you know.”

You paused, watching unsure as he ran a hand through his hair nervously. “I kinda wonder what would’ve happened if I had said yes. Davey and I didn’t even end up seeing West Side Story, anyway, so I wonder if you and I would’ve ended up any differently.”

It wasn’t much, but his heart sped up ever so slightly— so you had thought about him, even in the dating context. Harrison couldn’t think of a response (his brain repeated “fuck Davey, ask her out again”) fast enough as you stopped at the front desk. You mumbled something about needing some towels, and Harrison took that as his cue to just continue walking. He bid you a quick farewell, wanting to escape to his room as fast as possible.

Nothing you had said tonight had been particularly flirty, but he still rewound the events in his head because maybe he missed something. As he laid down in his bed that night, his mind drifted off with thoughts of you, wondering just how he’d manage to pull off these next few months without falling for you all over again.

Over the next several weeks, his predicament only seemed to grow. Spending so much time with you (and your other three co-stars) just made Harrison wish even more that he’d asked you out sooner in drama school, and having to spend most of his screen time gawking over you added to it further. Maybe it was another school boy crush, or maybe it was intense method acting— either way, he definitely liked you.

Ever since he read the script for episode four, he knew that eventually your two characters would become romantically involved. He would’ve felt giddy over the thought (because his eighteen-year-old self would’ve died at this opportunity), but whenever he thought of the scene, he was reminded about your boyfriend. Harrison wasn’t the type of guy to hate his crush’s boyfriend, but something just didn’t seem right about Davey.

Harrison was lying on his hotel bed, reading over the episode’s script for what must have been the fifth time through that afternoon. It was Sunday, the day before you’d both film Leo and Bea’s kiss. With a beer on his side table and an array of highlighters beside it, he was set. As the words started to run together, and his glasses began to feel uncomfortable on his nose, he heard a knock at his door.

“Coming!” Harrison called out. Setting his script aside, he rolled off the bed. He was confused at who could possibly be at his door, but, figuring it was someone from set, he had the decency to slip on a white t-shirt, opting for not answering the door in nothing but grey sweats. He was thankful for his last-minute decision as he opened the door and was met with you on his doorstep. Smiling at you and leaning on the doorframe, he let out a small, “Hey.”

“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to rehearse tomorrow’s scene.” You offered with a friendly smile on your face.

“Right now?” He asked, glancing back into his room to decipher if it was clean enough or not.

“Oh, is this a bad time?” You replied, subconsciously stepping back. “Is someone here?”

“What?” Harrison looked at you, confused before it clicked what you thought, “Oh, no, no. There’s no one here. I was just rehearsing, too.”

“So is that a yes then or-?” You trailed off.

“Yeah, come on in.” He opened his door fully, allowing you to step in. He chivalrously closed the door behind you. “Would you like water or anything?”

“Can I have a beer?” You asked, spotting the one on his nightstand.

“Sure.” Harrison nodded. While he got you a beer and grabbed his own half-consumed bottle and script, you settled on the couch with your pages in hand.

“Thank you.” You smiled as he handed you the beer, and you took a sip happily. “You know, I’m honestly so jealous of you this week.”

“Why?” He asked with a laugh, thrown off guard by your confession.

“You get to do all the palace scenes again.”

“I also throw myself off a balcony.”

“But still.” You insisted. “Leo really needs to sneak Bea into the palace just so I can have one of those extravagant ball dress scenes. I just want to feel like a princess, and I feel like it’s what Bea deserves.”

Harrison looked at you admiringly for a moment. “You are a princess.” His face dropped as soon as he realized he’d said his thoughts aloud. Coughing, he tried to cover it up, “I mean—- you were kind of princess-like in episode 3, right?”

“Smooth.” You laughed, but didn’t press the situation. Your phone began to ring, and Harrison watched as you rolled your eyes, declining the call and ultimately silencing your phone.

“Spam call?”

“More like clingy non-committal somewhat boyfriend.” You stated, rolling your eyes.

He furrowed his eyebrows, confused. You hadn’t mentioned Davey in the past few weeks— not that Harrison was complaining, but he just assumed you were private about your personal life. “I thought you and Davey were on good terms?”

“We are? I don’t know.” You sighed, taking a sip of your beer.

“If you’re not comfortable with the topic, we can just rehearse-”

“No, it’s fine. I just haven’t really talked about it with anyone. Before I came here, he asked about having an open relationship while I’m away, and I told him no. And the last time we talked, we got into an argument and that was a couple days ago. I’m not ready to talk to him, and at this point, I’d much rather talk to you than him. It’s very frustrating that he wants to have an open relationship, but he still expects me to be at his beck and call. It’s like he’s looking for someone to substitute me, but I can’t have a life of my own. He wasn’t the most supportive of me taking this job in the first place, too.” You paused, with a small shrug, “I know you’re probably thinking I should leave him, but I can’t. We’ve been together for 5 years. I don’t know anything else at this point.”

“I get it.” Harrison said softly, hesitantly resting a comforting hand on your knee. “He was your first love. It makes sense that it’s hard to move on.” He felt his own heart sink at his ironic words. After all, you were his first love.

“I wouldn’t say he’s my first love.” You said softly, placing your hand on his, squeezing it gently. “Plus, at this point, I wouldn’t even say I love him.”

A silence fell in the room. Harrison really didn’t know what to say now. He would have told you to leave him, but you already knew that, so what was the point in him repeating it? Besides, it was your relationship, and you needed to make the decision for yourself… or let Davey make it for you.

“Let’s go through the scene, yeah?” You asked, changing the topic. You dropped his hand to pick up your script again.

“Right.” Harrison mumbled to himself, flicking through the pages to the scene.

You glanced around his hotel suite for a moment, looking for something similar to a bridge rail to lean on. “Should we use the kitchen counter? As the bridge rail?”

“Yeah, that works.” He nodded. The two of you got up, scripts in hand. Harrison stood to your right, just as the stage direction had called for. There was some space between the two of you, enough room for Harrison to shuffle closer to you later, as scripted.

“You’re not on your own, Beatrice. You must remember that.” Harrison said to you, leaning on the counter but looking over to you with his icy blue eyes. “You’re very different to anyone I’ve ever met.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, looking at him curiously.

“You have something about you.” He started, awkwardly.

You cut him off, “Like a smell?”

“No, like a quality.” He chuckled softly before continuing, “I don’t know what it is, but I really like it.”

“Well, when you think of it, let me know.”

“I’ll be sure to.” He smiled at you, his confidence slowly building as the scene continued on. Harrison stepped closer to you until he was right beside you, leaning sideways on the counter. “And I’m not saying you don’t smell, by the way. I’m just saying that that’s not the thing.”

You laughed, turning your head away from him in disbelief. “You know, I was thinking of kissing you, but now I’m not gonna.”

Harrison paused, taking a moment to mentally hype himself up for what was about to happen, but also taking a moment because it was scripted for Leo to be nervous. “Well, uh, I suppose I have to kiss you then.”

You turned to him, smiling coyly. Slowly, Harrison closed his eyes and leaned in. His heart started racing faster as he felt your breath fan against his face before his lips finally found yours. It was gentle and hesitant, everything that it had been scripted to be. As much as he wanted to keep kissing you and keep tasting the sweet strawberries of your lipgloss, it had to end. He pulled away after a moment, and you seemed almost breathless as you opened your eyes to see him again.

“I meant it when I said you’re not on your own.” Harrison looked at you with more hesitancy this time, but he still kissed you with the softest passion. The script said that Leo and Bea kiss and continue to kiss for a few seconds; Harrison wasn’t counting, but he was sure this kiss was longer than it was meant to be. Again, he found himself dreading its inevitable end. If there was one thing he could do for the rest of his life, it’d be this… well, this amongst other things with you. His stomach started to stir with guilt as he remembered Davey; you were still technically in a relationship, open or not, arguing currently or not. But then it clicked with Harrison, you weren’t pulling away— no, you were fully kissing him back.

Before he could pull away and end the scene with his last few lines, a knock came from his door. Regretfully, he stepped away from you. He didn’t meet your eye as he went to answer the door while you read over the script on the counter. Flustered, he opened the door.

“Mum! You’re here.” Harrison’s eyes went wide, surprised to see his mother and his sister standing before him.

“Surprise!” She smiled, hugging him almost immediately. “We had to come and see you at your big job.”

“Are you not happy to see us?” Charlotte teased, and Harrison shook his head, pulling her in for a hug. As they all stepped into Harrison’s apartment, you waved from the kitchen.

“Hi.” You smiled, coming over to introduce yourself.

“Oh, mum, Charlotte, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is my mum and Charlotte, my sister.” Harrison introduced the three of you.

“You’re Y/N Y/L/N from drama school?” Phil said with a smile, making the connection as you shook her hand. Charlotte seemed to stifle a laugh as Harrison’s cheeks heated up.

“Yes, that sounds like me.” You laughed, brushing off any awkwardness that Harrison feared was there. “We were just rehearsing our scene for tomorrow.”

“Maybe we can come to set.” Phil suggested, sending Harrison an expectant look.

“I’ll have to ask. This is so, so last-minute, though, so I don’t know.” He replied.

“It’s a spontaneous weekend trip.” Charlotte clarified.

“We should get some dinner. We haven’t eaten much all day.” Phil told Harrison before turning to you, “Y/N, you should come, too. It’d be so lovely to get to know you.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” You trailed off, glancing at Harrison. He sent you a silent look that said ‘she seriously does want you to come… If you don’t come, I won’t hear the end of it’. “I’d love to. I just need to go change first.”

You grabbed your script off the counter, and Harrison walked you to the door. “How long do you need?”

“Like 10 minutes?” You replied, and he nodded.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know they were coming, or that they’d invite you to dinner.” He said quietly, making you laugh.

“It’s fine, but I do have to warn you, if my parents spontaneously drop by, they don’t know who you are.” You teased.

He let out an embarrassed groan, “Let’s not talk about that.”

“See you in ten.” You sent him a wink before leaving to your own hotel room. As Harrison closed the door and turned back around, he was met with the smirking faces of his mother and sister.

“So, is there anything you want to tell us?” Phil asked.

“We were rehearsing. That’s all.” Harrison insisted, going through the wardrobe to find some clothes to change into for dinner.

“Huh,” Charlotte trailed off, crossing her arms. “So, you wearing sparkly lip gloss that matches Y/N’s is a coincidence?”

“It’s a kiss scene tomorrow. We rehearsed the lines and the kisses, too.” He explained. With a pair of jeans, a clean shirt, and his red letterman jacket in hand, he made his way to the bathroom.

“Oh, multiple kisses.” She teased, making him roll his eyes.

“She has a boyfriend!” Harrison ended the conversation, closing the door to the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, you returned back to Harrison’s room, and the four of you left, making your way to an Italian restaurant nearby. You and Harrison shared anecdotes about filming so far, keeping spoilers to a minimum until the server came with your food.

“We got in so much trouble from the makeup and hair department.” You laughed as Harrison finished telling them of how you two went on the playground last week, much to the chagrin of the crew.

“It was worth it.” He added.

“Who would’ve known you’d play a Netflix prince?” Charlotte asked teasingly, but it was clear she was still proud of his achievements.

“Look at that face. He couldn’t play anything but a prince.” You joked, and he smiled smugly.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He stated.

“Phil, I have to say, I’ve never met someone more well suited to play a well-mannered prince.” You told her, playfully pinching Harrison’s cheek beside you.

“I remember when there was a time he was revolted at the idea of playing a prince.” Phil said, her lips growing into a smirk, and Harrison knew exactly what that meant.

“Mum, no—“ He started, but you just shushed him, wanting to hear whatever embarrassing story was about to be told.

“He watched a single Batman movie growing up— and not even a good one at that, and decided he simply had to be Batman.” She explained. “Then the Christopher Nolan ones came out, and there was no stopping him.”

“Every kid wants to be a superhero, and Batman is simply the best one.” He said as if it was obvious.

“I didn’t know you had a Batman phase.” You teased.

“Phase? He still has posters and comic books and dolls.” Charlotte added.

“Action figures.” He corrected her, making you laugh at the humor of it all.

“You know, honestly, I think I still have Catwoman action figures.” You admitted, trying to make him feel better, and Phil’s eyes lit up as she remembered another story.

“I cleaned your room a couple weeks ago, Harrison, and I was surprised to see you still Anne Hathaway as Catwoman posters.”

“Do we really have to talk about that? Does this torture not end?” He groaned.

“Fine. That’s enough for tonight.” Phil let out a defeated sigh, clearly enjoying herself.

“Y/N, if you want the really embarrassing stories, you’ve got to talk to Tom. He’s told me embarrassing Harrison stories that I can’t say in front of mum.” Charlotte laughed, and Harrison’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head at his sister’s words.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You smiled coyly.

“Sometimes, I wonder if he forgets that I know just as much embarrassing shit that he did growing up, too.” Harrison stated, shaking his head.

The night went on with minimal embarrassment on Harrison’s end. After Phil and Charlotte went back to their hotel, you and Harrison started the walk back to your own hotel. As you walked, your hands would brush against each other’s every so often, but neither of you made any move to take it further.

“Darci’s going to be so jealous in the morning.” You said, making him laugh a little.

“Why’s that?”

“That’s her favorite restaurant in town. Plus, I just got a free meal.” You laughed. A visible shiver coursed through you as the chilly night air picked up.

“Are you cold?” Harrison asked, already taking off his letterman’s jacket.

“Thank you.” You replied, taking his offer of warmth. Your short sleeves did nothing to shield you from the cold, but he had at least been prepared enough with long sleeves. “Are you sure you won’t get chilly?”

“I’ll be fine.” He reassured you.

“I had a really nice time tonight. I’m glad your mum invited me.” You admitted happily.

“Me, too. Apart from all of the embarrassment I just went through, I enjoyed tonight.”

“I never knew you had a secret Batman fanboy side.”

“I never knew you had a secret Catwoman fangirl side.” He countered with a smile.

“Guess that means we make a good team, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess it does.”

As you smiled at him, completely content under the moonlight, he wanted nothing more than to kiss you right then, to taste the sweetness of your strawberry lip gloss again. The last bit of your walk was filled with you two arguing over Batwoman and Catwoman, two things that neither of you had ever realized you had in common before.

Harrison’s wish finally came true the next day, as you two ran through the kiss scene multiple times. It was strange at first for him, because his sister and mother were intently watching, proud to see him in action, even if it was just a kiss scene over and over again. But, with you there, he grew more and more comfortable with each take.

As a few more weeks passed by, Harrison thought that perhaps you and Davey had officially ended things, but then he heard through Darci that you had magically worked it out. Whatever magic it was, he was upset about it, and he found himself increasingly irritated at the mention of Davey.

“Ooh, we finally get to meet the Davey tonight?” Darci asked as the five of you enjoyed lunch in between shots. It had been two weeks Harrison’s mother and sister visited, and now Davey was coming, much to Harrison chagrin.

“He’s only here for two days.” You explained, taking a bite of your sandwich.

“Ah, so you’ll be very busy, then.” McKell teased, suggestively nudging your side with his elbow. You brushed off his comment with a laugh, avoiding Harrison’s eyes.

“We should get him to do that calzone challenge with us.” Jojo said to Harrison. Although Jojo and McKell had been rather supportive of Harrison’s interest in you at the beginning, they seemed to forget about it most of the time now— for which he was actually kind of grateful.

The conversation couldn’t go any further as the director came into the room, holding the script in his hands. The look on his face told all of you that something was up. He looked between you and Harrison before speaking, “Change of plans for tomorrow. Eileen isn’t feeling well, so we’ll film Bea and Leo’s scene tomorrow instead of her scenes.”

“But tomorrow was supposed to be—“ You started, but cut yourself short, realizing there was no point in arguing. Schedules, plans, things all change, and this was just part of the job. “Never mind.”

“Well, tomorrow will be interesting.” Darci said quietly, voicing what was on everybody’s minds.

The director left with a silent nod, and the room fell silent for a moment. You and Harrison wouldn’t dare to look at each other, both of you feeling awkward suddenly. Making out with Harrison multiple times, especially with your boyfriend there, was not something either of you particularly enjoyed the thought of.

Having to film no more scenes today, Harrison went back to the hotel with Jojo and McKell. He didn’t end up seeing you for the rest of the day, but he was okay with that as he wanted to go as long as he could without meeting Davey. The director had taken some pity on the two of you, asking you to come in later in the morning instead of at 6 AM like usual.

Harrison made his way down to the hotel gym, wanting to utilize his newfound free time. Normally, he’d get his daily workout in after filming, but he didn’t see a reason to not get an early start today. He didn’t expect anyone to be up this early, but as he got closer to the gym, he could hear a voice coming from inside the room, the door cracked just slightly.

“Love, I promise I’ll be back in two days.” The stranger paused before continuing, “You know I’m only here for business, nothing else.”

Curious and trying to decide if he should even enter the room, Harrison snuck a quick glance through the crack in the doorway. He felt his blood run cold as he immediately recognized the guy sitting on the weight bench. Afterall, Harrison had looked at your social media enough to recognize your olive-skinned boyfriend, Davey.

“Bit early for you, isn’t it?” Harrison nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of your voice from down the hall. He heard Davey mumbled something on the other side of the door, probably having heard your voice too.

“Yeah, but I just figured I’d start my pull-ups early today.” He replied before opening the door for you, acting like he had no clue that Davey had been in there.

“Hello, gorgeous.” Davey said to you, completely ignoring Harrison. He stood from his spot at the weight bench to wrap his arms around your waist and kiss you possessively.

“Davey, this is Harrison, he plays Leo. Harrison, this is Davey.” You introduced the two guys.

Davey looked Harrison up and down with his dark brown eyes and seemed to stand straighter, even though the blond was inches taller. Harrison was the first to step forward and politely outstretch a hand to the raven-haired guy before him. With a tight smile, Davey shook his hand, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

Davey turned back to you, “Spot me?”

“Actually, I wanted to-” Your eyes drifted over to the treadmill as Harrison got in position to start his pull-ups at the bar. Davey looked at you expectantly, and you nodded, silently agreeing to stand there and spot Davey while he bench pressed.

Slipping on his headphones and turning on some music, Harrison began his workout. He played his music loud enough to block out your conversations with Davey. Not only was it none of his business, but god, Harrison really hated everything about him already. Hearing silence between you and Davey when his song changed, Harrison spared a glance over towards you. He was surprised when he found your eyes trained on him or, rather, trained on his abdomen that seemed to stick out from his tight white shirt. Still unaware of his eyes on you, your own eyes trailed up to his arms, watching as they flexed with each pull-up. Feeling flustered by your fixed gaze, Harrison faltered a little, and your eyes immediately darted back to Davey in front of you. Harrison couldn’t help the proud smile that ghosted his lips as he continued— you were checking him out.

Harrison finished his workout and decided to get cleaned up before heading to set in half an hour, leaving you and Davey in the gym. When he left, he was surprised that you were still spotting Davey, getting no work out in like you had planned. The whole time he was getting cleaned up (and brushing his teeth repeatedly to ensure he had good breath), he just kept picturing your staring in his head. He had worked very hard to get his body in this shape, and he was very proud of himself too, but he was even prouder that you’d clearly taken notice. If anything, it almost excited him that they’d be filming this scene today. There were a few times in this episode specifically in which Leo is shirtless, but none of those scenes had been filmed— and if this scene was going to be anything like it was scripted to be, then you’d definitely get a better show than in the hotel gym.

He didn’t see you again until the two of you were on set, in full costume and makeup. He had a loose shirt on, but underneath it, his chest had been painted with blues and purples to make convincing bruises. As he went to his mark, Leo’s makeshift bed on the floor of the cellar, Harrison spotted Davey across the set, looking bored and unhappy. His blue eyes drifted over to you next, and he refrained himself from smirking as he noticed your makeup artist applying chapstick to your lips.

While you gathered your prop lantern and the lights dimmed around you all, Harrison made himself comfortable under the ragged blankets. The director called out “Action!” and Harrison closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep as he waited for you to come into the shot. Hearing your footsteps, Harrison stirred, blinking his eyes open.

“Bea, is everything alright?” He asked, looking up at you as you stood over him.

“Let me see your body.” You said definitively.

“Beatrice—” He started, but you cut him off.

“Show me, Leo. I want to see it.” At your words, Harrison shifted slowly, moving as if in pain. He pulled the blankets down and went to roll up his shirt. “Take your top off.”

He paused, looking at you questioningly with a hint of fear in his eyes. Groaning a little, Harrison sat up and removed his shirt. He looked at you expectantly, and you set aside the lantern before kneeling on the blankets beside him. Your hand drifted over the painted bruise tentatively, ghosting over the same abs that you had been studying just hours earlier. Harrison waited for you to deliver your next line, knowing he was scripted to kiss you after it. It felt like ages that he was waiting for you, wanting nothing more than to kiss you right now. His mind went blank as your eyes found his and you leaned in to kiss him.

It was unscripted, and he was surprised, but he didn’t let his surprise stop him from immediately kissing you back. Your chapstick tasted of strawberries, just as it had the last time the two of you had a kissing scene, and he swore he was in love with the taste of it. He expected to hear the director yell cut, to hear him question why you suddenly improvised, but when nothing came, he just continued to kiss you. You pulled back, a shy smile on your face, “I don’t want you to hide your body from me anymore. It’s too nice to be hidden.”

His heart leapt as he leaned forward to catch your lips once more, this time scripted. His hands shuffled to your waist, pulling you down to lay beside him as he rolled onto his side, his chest leaning over yours. Your fingers tangled into his hair, and he savored the feeling.

You pulled back again, whispering up to him, “No more hiding.”

“No more hiding.” He reaffirmed. As he continued to kiss you, his hands sensually wandered down your back, keeping you as close to him as possible. Part of him wanted to pause the intimate scene and pinch himself, just to make sure it was really happening, but he was worried if he stopped kissing you now that he’d never get the opportunity to kiss you like this again.

“Cut!” The director called, and Harrison reluctantly pulled away from you. He could’ve sworn a small frown passed your lips as he looked down at you, not having shifted off of you yet.

“Spearmint— my favorite.” You teased quietly, as if it was only for the two of you to hear. As you laughed underneath him, Harrison couldn’t help but wonder what his younger self would think if he knew he’d one day get to make out with Y/N Y/L/N. Even if it was just for the show, it was a sight that he’d always want to remember.

“I’ve always enjoyed the taste of strawberries.” He replied softly, rolling away from you.

The director ran you two through a couple pointers for the scene, and, to Harrison’s surprise, he even suggested Bea kissing Leo first, just like you had improvised. You reasoned that you forgot your line momentarily, but something about the way you kissed Harrison made him feel like that wasn’t the case; no, it seemed like you’d truly wanted to kiss him.

After running through the scene a few more times, the director was satisfied. While you stayed behind on set to film more scenes, Harrison returned to his hotel room. Just as he was searching his toiletry bag for some much-needed chapstick, his phone began to ring with a Facetime call. Seeing Harry’s contact photo light up on his screen, he accepted and set his phone aside momentarily. He didn’t need to wonder what Harry (and most likely Tom, Tuwaine and maybe even Sam) were calling about— he had made the dire mistake of telling his easily-excited best friends about today’s scene.

“Why are we looking at your ceiling?” Harry asked almost immediately.

“I’m, uh, looking for lip balm.” Harrison admitted quietly and smiled to himself when he found some. He quickly put it on and then grabbed his phone, heading to his bed where he could comfortably talk to his friends.

As expected, his friends let out an incoherent chorus of excitement. Sam seemed to calm down enough first to ask (more like, shout through the phone), “How was it?”

“Does she really kiss with tongue? Remember Jack used to say-” Tom started, and Harrison scoffed, hearing the name of one of their old classmates who swears he had a summer fling with you once.

“I still don’t believe him, but no, not today at least.” Harrison was honestly a bit embarrassed to admit it. You were in a relationship… with a possibly cheating moron, but still. It just didn’t feel right to talk about you in that way.

“Not today? So there could be another time!” Tuwaine shouted encouragingly.

“Is she still with that prick?” Tom asked.

“Yes, but,” Harrison paused, and they all looked at him expectantly, waiting for elaboration, “I think he might be cheating on her.”

“What makes you say that?” Harry questioned. “Mate, just because you fancy her doesn’t mean her boyfriend’s a cheater.”

“No, I mean I heard him on the phone, and he said he was in Liverpool for business, not for his girlfriend.” He reasoned, “I’m just very suspicious of him.”

“You should tell her if you think he is.” Sam stated, “If he isn’t, then, oh no, you’re on bad terms with her boyfriend, who probably already hates you after today. If he is, well, she’d hate you if she finds out you kept it from her.”

Harrison let out a small sigh as the others nodded. “I don’t know. It’s not my place. Besides, she said something a few weeks about him wanting an open relationship. Maybe it’s that?”

“Okay, look, forget I asked about him.” Tom said, shaking his head, while the others looked at Harrison skeptically through the phone, “How was it to finally have your drama school dreams fulfilled?”

“Fucking heaven.” Harrison admitted with a laugh.

For the next week, Harrison resisted the urge to tell you about Davey. He wanted to, he really did, but whenever he’d finally be alone with you and mentally prepare himself for the conversation, you would always just seem so happy and content. He couldn’t bring himself to disturb your happiness, especially when it was Harrison making you happy. After Davey left, it’s like something changed within you, and Harrison had no clue what it was, but he enjoyed it.

‘You have to tell her.’ Harrison read over his most recent text from Tom again. He let out a small sigh, trying to get the courage to tell you as you sat across from him at the booth.

It was Saturday, and you two, along with Darci, Jojo, and McKell, had made your way to a club, wanting to celebrate another week down. With only two episodes left to film, you all knew your time together was starting to run low. You were all a few drinks in by now, happily buzzed. Jojo and McKell were off somewhere, probably attempting to be each other’s wingmen. Darci was telling you a story so wild that Harrison wondered if it was even true. He finished the rest of his drink and shuffled out of the booth.

“I’m going to grab another drink.” Harrison said to you two, and, without waiting for a response, he left. He made no move to flag down the bartender, leaning against an empty spot in the bar. Pulling on the collar of his blue shirt, he started to feel hot, unsure if he could handle this.

“What happened to getting another drink?” You asked him, stepping up beside him.

“Where’s Darci?” He replied, not wanting to answer your question.

“Found a friend in the crowd.” You laughed and turned to flag down the bartender. You ordered a round of shots, to Harrison’s surprise.

“Are you good?” He asked skeptically.

“Yeah,” You nodded, but with how your eyes were glazed over the alcohol and another unreadable emotion, Harrison didn’t quite believe you. Playfully, you nudged him, “I should ask you the same thing. You’re the one who’s been moping all night for god knows why.”

“I haven’t been moping.” He argued as a tray of four shots was placed in front of you two. You handed one to him and took one for yourself.

“Cheers to another week done.” You clinked your shot glass against his before both of you downed them.

As you went to grab your second shot, Harrison reached a hand and stopped you. Concerned, he asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Davey and I broke up— for good this time.” You admitted, and his hold on your wrist softened while he looked at you pitifully. “He told me when he was here that he went through with his ‘open relationship’ plan, even though I never agreed to it, so he’s been basically cheating on me since I left for this job. Then tonight, he drunkenly texts me, and I know it’s just a booty call. He’s done it for years, but now I actually see it for what it is. So now, my shitty boyfriend is gone, I’m finally single, and my only plans for tonight is to get properly drunk. Maybe even hookup with a stranger— god knows it’s been a while since I had decent sex.” Harrison was speechless, and you continued, a smile finding its way to your face at the end of your venting. “Dance with me after this shot?”

“Do I have a choice?” He asked playfully, feeling your mood lighten once more. You winked at him, handing him a full shot glass. He made a mental note to keep a close eye on you and to keep you from drinking anymore.

After you both drank back the burning liquid, you grabbed his hand and pulled him out to the dancefloor. Harrison had felt the alcohol that was flooding his system earlier, but the colored lights, pounding music, and countless bodies around him seemed to make the alcohol hit him harder. There was a weight off his shoulders, knowing you were actually single as you danced with him, and yet he still felt strange about his current state with you— were you truly into him or was he just the first guy you could drunkenly hook up with?

You turned to face him, a small frown on your face, “Haz, you’re being a bit of a killjoy.”

It was then that he realized, while you were fully grinding on his body, he was relatively motionless. Your hands found his, and you planted one on your hip and another on the small of your back, low enough though that it teetered being on your ass. You leaned in closer to him, letting him get a whiff of your perfume. While one of your hands trailed along the hem of his shirt, daring to even dip below his shirt, the other traced through his hair.

As you planted a kiss on Harrison’s neck, not caring at all for the dancing bodies around you, you heard him let out a strangled groan of your name. Your nails light scratched over the deep V in his hips, hooking onto where his jeans met the line.

“Should we get out of here?” You asked Harrison, your lips right next to his ear as your voice dripped with seduction. He felt his heart flip with intoxicating excitement before he was immediately reminded of the gravity of the situation. You went to kiss him, but he moved back quickly, stepping out of your reach. Pouting, you asked, “Do you not want me? After all this time?”

“No, I do.” Harrison insisted. “I want you, but not like this, not when you’re drunk. You’re not in the right headspace for this. I don’t want to be your drunken rebound.”

“How can you be a rebound when it’s always been you?”

Harrison sighed. Oh, how much he’d love to hear that from you— sober. He was saved from having to reply when Darci, McKell, and Jojo found you two. They looked at the two of you skeptically, but Harrison just shook his head.

“I’m going to take Y/N back to the hotel.” He said as he stepped closer to the group so that they could hear him over the music.

“We’ll come, too.” Jojo insisted, even though, with his words slurred and his eyes glazed over, he was thoroughly drunk, too.

“Where did Y/N go?” McKell asked, realizing your sudden absence.

“Oh god,” Harrison muttered, and the four of them dispersed in the crowd to find you, tripping over the other sweaty bodies. Darci found you first, unable to stop you from having a couple more shots.

“No, no, you’re done.” She argued with you. You reached for the last shot that she had taken from you, but, in your intoxicated state, you easily lost your balance. Harrison quickly wrapped an arm around your waist to hold you up.

“I don’t think she can walk.” Jojo commented.

“What gave that away?” McKell asked sarcastically.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” With a small sigh, Harrison, as the most sober of the group (though he still felt fairly tipsy), proceeded to lead you out of the club.

Darci hailed a cab for the five of you, and while it was an illegally tight fit, you all made it work. You leaned on Harrison as he was pressed right up against you. On your other side sat Jojo. You mumbled softly to Harrison, one of your hands falling onto his knee, “Do you remember that year when they put up mistletoe at school?”

“Where are you going with this?” He asked you softly.

“I saw you kiss Vivian at the one outside of the gym, and I couldn’t walk in that area for three months without thinking of you. I was so jealous of her, and you just looked like such a good kisser, which I’m happy to report you are.”

“Babes, maybe stop with the drunk talking.” Darci said, because all of you could tell this was stuff sober you would never say.

Harrison looked at you in surprise— he barely even remembered when Vivian dragged him under the mistletoe, so the fact that you remembered and were jealous? And you said he was a good kisser, too. He felt a glimmer of pride overcome him.

“Ask me tomorrow, it’s the truth.” You shuffled in your seat, laying your head against Jojo’s shoulder, “Jojo, wanna know a secret?”

“Y/N, maybe-” Darci started, but Jojo cut her off.

“No, go on, Y/N.” He laughed, wanting to hear your drunk thoughts.

“Do you think I’d make a good Catwoman?” You asked, words slurring together as you grew tired.

“Catwoman? Like Anne Hathaway?” He questioned, and you hummed a ‘yes’. “Yeah, you’d make a good Catwoman.”

“Good. Tell Haz he needs to my Batman then.” Your voice was quiet, as if it was something just meant for the two of you to hear, but your voice wasn’t nearly as soft as you had thought it was, meaning Harrison and the rest of your friends were truly aware of your little drunken secret

“Okay, I’ll tell him.” Jojo reassured you, a shit-eating grin on his face as he glanced over your head to look at the embarrassed Harrison.

The rest of the car ride was silent, and Harrison helped you out of your seat. With the help of the others, he got you safely inside your hotel room. Everyone retreated to their own rooms, except for Harrison who stayed with you. He laid you down on your bed and went searching for your pajamas, which to his luck were stowed underneath your pillow.

“Can you change or—?” Harrison asked, holding out the clothes to you

“I’ve got it, though I wouldn’t mind you helping.” You said with a wink. As you started to change out of your club clothes, Harrison turned away from you and focused on getting out some much-needed pain reliever and a glass of water for you to have in the morning. He heard you shuffle on the bed behind him before you let out a small huff, “Hazzy, can you come here?”

Hazzy— that was a new nickname. To his surprise, you were already tucked up in bed, your previously worn clothes scattered on the floor around you. He set the water and meds on your nightstand before kneeling to your level, “What’s wrong, love?”

“Do you know why Davey wasn’t my first love?” You asked quietly, your eyes beginning to droop with sleep. You reached a hand out to tentatively run your fingers over his cheek before you cupped it, smiling softly at him.

He had a hunch, but he played along anyway, wanting to hear you say it, in case he never heard it again. “Why?”

“Because you were.” Your voice was so quiet that he barely heard you, but he was so glad that he did. He leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, and you let your hand fall from his face.

“Get some sleep. We can talk in the morning.”

“Can you stay tonight? Please?”

“Of course, love.” Harrison stood to his full height, and when he looked at you again, you were already asleep. He softly readjusted the blankets on your bed to make sure you were warm enough, before he made his way over to the couch. Grabbing a throw blanket off the back of the couch, he settled into his bed for the night. Just like every other night lately, he drifted off thinking of you, but this time, there was an excited flutter in his heart.

The next day, Harrison woke up to you letting out a groan, loudly asking, “Why the fuck is it so bright in here?”

He slowly sat up from the couch to check on you. A smile crossed his face as you took the pain meds he’d left out and downed the glass of water. Your eyes seemed to bulge out of your head when you noticed his presence in the room. Laughing, he greeted you, “Good morning, sunshine.”

“Please tell me you miraculously don’t remember anything I said last night because I remember, and I don’t want to.” You said, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“Sorry to disappoint then.” He sent you a sympathetic smile.

With a sigh, you patted the spot beside you on your bed. Wordlessly, Harrison got up from the couch and came to sit beside you on the bed. He expected you to say something, but when you were silent, seemingly caught up in your thoughts, he spoke up, “Did you mean it? When you said I was your first love?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation in your reply, and you turned to finally meet his eye, “It was a very intense schoolgirl crush, hence why I hated Vivian after that mistletoe incident, but seeing you again just made me realize that it was more than just a crush. I’ve regretted saying no to you all those years ago ever since you came back into my life.”

“Well, I thought I was over my crush on you, but turns out, there are just some things time can’t change.”

A comfortable silence overfell you two again before you finally spoke up with the words that had been on your mind for weeks, “I think I’m in love with you.”

“I think I’m in love with you, too.” Harrison sealed his words by leaning in to kiss you.

With no script to follow now, he felt fireworks as you kissed him back. One of your hands drifted to the back of his neck, silently urging him to continue kissing you. His hands snaked around your waist before he shifted to lay on his back, rolling you on top of him. You deepened the kiss, your tongue finding its way into his mouth. He moaned at first, fully enjoying himself, before his lips curved into a smile, and he started to laugh against your lips.

“What’s so funny?” You asked, pulling away from his lips. His hands wandered from your hips up to where your own hands were resting on his chest, and he casually intertwined your fingers.

“It’s nothing.” He said in an attempt to play it off, but the smile on his face told you that whatever he was thinking was hilarious to him. “You remember Jack Evans? He told everyone that you were the best french kisser in school, and, well, he’s not wrong.”

You let out a scoff before giggling to yourself, “First of all, how many girls have you french kissed from drama school and should I be jealous? Second of all, Jack was an ass who couldn’t kiss for shit, but I’ll take it as a compliment that he told everyone that.” You leaned down until your lips were just barely touching, “And thirdly, do you want to keep talking about drama school, or do you want me to keep kissing you?”

“You don’t need to be jealous, but I kinda like that you are.” He replied with a cheeky smile. “And you’re right. He was an ass.”

“And for the last one?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him.

Harrison pretended to think about it for a second before he let go of your hand to cup your cheek, bringing your lips crashing back down to his.

#harrison osterfield #haz osterfield #the irregulars #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield one shot #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield x you #haz osterfield x reader #haz osterfield x you

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petitmonde · 2 years

Text

Vasovagal Syncope

A look into my Gay's Anatomy AU while I work on writing the initial few chapters.

This AU centers around the show Gay's Anatomy, as if it's a real TV show where the s12 queens are part of its primary cast.

"Jan? Jan! Shit she fainted."

"JAN!?"

"Did she hit her head?"

"Hiring a newbie was a mistake, I told you she couldn't handle the role."

"Shut up and get her something to drink."

"Let's move her to the couches."

"I'll stay with her as she wakes up."

"You don't mind? You're a lifesaver Gigi."

"I don't have any other scenes to shoot today."

"I'll tell the director."

Sounds. Voices. Light. Everything was jumbled together. Nothing quite made sense when Jan came back to, she couldn't recall what had just happened or where she was. She blinked her eyes open, the light was sharp, she noticed. A face, a familiar one, but who?

"Mhnh" Jan groaned as she finally began to stir. The position she was in was quite uncomfortable. Whatever it was she was laying on had terrible cushioning, not that she knew how she got here or where here was. Her legs were raised, another thing that aided in her discomfort.

"You're awake? Good." Another voice from the beyond came. One she recognised finally. Gigi Goode. But why was she looking at her like that?

"Gigi?"

"Finally, you almost had me worried." Gigi sighed in relief. This newbie had quite the talent to annoy her. She was more angry than annoyed at the moment, but she tried not to let it show to the brunette. She could keep it professional.

"You were worried about me?" Jan questioned, trying to get up before Gigi slowed her down.

"Me, worried about a third rate actress? Never." Gigi denied. Like hell she'd admit that kind of thing.

"Thought so. So why are you looking after me? Don't you have other scenes to film?"

Gigi looked quizzically at Jan, contemplating her answer. "Thanks to you I don't."

"The hell does that mean?"

"Just... drink this." Gigi shoved a bottle of something brown into Jan's hands. "Drink that and I'll explain."

"Deal!" Jan unscrewed the cap and took a big gulp. Sweet, luscious iced tea lubricated her dry throat. She looked at Gigi expectantly.

"We were doing a surgery scene today and you decided to keel over the moment we began cutting into the fake body."

"Oh yeah, that was today." Jan grimaced, how embarrassing to faint in front of the whole crew. She took another gulp of ice tea. "That wasn't mighty professional of me, was it?"

"What wasn't professional was throwing you into a surgery scene without preparing you for it properly." Gigi huffed, still keeping her anger below the surface.

"I guess?"

"I've been on the show for years, so take it from me when I say you aren't the first one to faint when we cut into animal parts." Gigi had begun ranting. "So you'd think they would prep the rookies better by now, but do they ever do that? No! They always insist on plowing through with as few breaks as possible, not caring about the consequences"

"Uh Gigi?"

"So now I have to babysit yet another rookie who..."

Jan interrupted Gigi by lightly tapping her arm, "Gigi, you're scaring me a bit."

"Oh, right." Gigi composed herself. How embarrassing and utterly unprofessional of her, she cringed at herself. She's better than this.

"Not that I don't appreciate all this." Jan gestured at their position, "but isn't it time we let everyone know I'm alright?"

"Yeah, of course." Gigi agreed, getting up from the couch. Today was still far from over, and they still had a scene to complete. Maybe not today, but Jan had to be prepared to do it the next. "We can talk about the scene while we walk back?"

"I'd really like that." Jan smiled at Gigi, who merely scowled right back. Today's fiasco hadn't been a total waste, Jan thought happily as she followed right besides Gigi. Maybe this was the start of a long lasting friendship? Jan almost didn't dare think the thought through before moving on from it. Small steps Jan, small steps.

#finally getting around to publish something about these two #when i read up on how they do surgery scenes on tv shows i gagged a little but it makes sense that theyd use animal organs #i actually fainted the first time i had to cut up some lungs #drag race #rpdr 12 #gigi goode #jan sport #gigi x jan #goodesport #gays anatomy au #rpdr fanfiction

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swaps55 · 3 years

Text

Mnemonic

This is an AU version of a standalone scene from Cantata that I rewrote with kissing. Because there was a lot of UST and I am weak.

Ao3

14 June 2180, Hades Gamma, Farinata System, SSV Myeongnyang

For a biotic, the armor never really comes off. What they carry under their skin is like a live wire, a current always in need of grounding.

Standing face-to-face with half a dozen L2 biotics holding the chairman of the Parliament Subcommittee for Transhuman Studies hostage on the MSV Ontario makes it a lot easier for Kaidan to see how much he takes for granted having a safe place to do it. And knowing how.

Reparations for the L2 side effects are a pipe dream. But a pipe dream Colin Daggett and his people needed to cling to, whatever the cost. And it had almost cost them everything.

Shepard doesn’t say much as they arrange for the survivors to be transferred to the Madrid’s brig and the engineering crew arrives to secure the Ontario for the trip to Arcturus. He says even less on the way through the airlock back to the ‘Yang, and the rest of the squad take their lead from him.

When they’re back on board the ship he disappears, sucking the air out of the room with him. They kit down without him.

“You’re an L2, aren’t you?” Pendergrass asks as she shoves her arms through the sleeves of her uniform, armor plating in a heap at her feet.

Beaudoin jabs her with an elbow.

“Yeah,” Kaidan murmurs, fingers tracing the amp port on the back of his neck when he removes the protection plate. He flexes his fingers, gravity well jumping into his touch. As he reaches for his chest plate to store it in his gear locker, an electric shock passes through him.

When 23:00 rolls around, Kaidan shows up in the mess as usual, figuring he’ll keep it simple tonight and just make some pasta. Shepard is there waiting, as usual, picking at a spot on the table while Kaidan pulls out a pot and finds a container of pasta. The entire time the water boils Shepard doesn’t say a word, stubbornly lost in thought.

Kaidan tells himself he’s not going to do more than olive oil and garlic – it’s been too long of a day for effort – but by the time he gets it to the table there’s parmesan cheese, parsley, and even a little red pepper in the mix.

“You going to tell me what’s up, or do I get to guess?” Kaidan asks when he sits down across from him and hands off a fork. He spent too much energy on going above and beyond with the red pepper to bother with a second bowl. They’ll just have to share.

Shepard looks up, almost in surprise. “Just thinking.”

“You’ve been thinking ever since you got Chairman Burns through the airlock. Maybe you should think out loud.”

The gravity well churns as Shepard stirs eddies in it, in tune with the twirl of his fork in the pasta bowl. “Everything that happened on that ship hinged on what Daggett did with his pistol.”

His toying intensifies, until blue energy shimmers around his knuckles. This one’s been chewing at him. A snap of electricity skips between his finger and the fork, and he drops it with an annoyed mutter. He looks up.

“You pulled the gun out of his hands,” he says.

And Shepard had put a bullet between his eyes. The fight had gone out of the rest pretty quickly.

“He wasn’t going to put it down,” Kaidan says. “We all knew it.”

“No. He wasn’t. And if you hadn’t been there, that standoff turns into a clusterfuck where everyone dies.”

A soft smile tugs at Kaidan’s lips. “Guess it’s a good thing I was there.”

Shepard picks up the fork again, staring at it with an unfocused gaze before he stabs it back in the bowl and twirls more pasta.

“I couldn’t have done what you did. I can’t refine a field like that. I was prepared to shoot everyone in that room. But you pulled the gun right out of his hands.”

Only because Shepard had given him the chance. Whether Shepard had done it with purpose or actually hesitated is a question he hasn’t been in a hurry to examine too closely.

“We work together, remember? In case you hadn’t noticed, we’ve gotten pretty good at it.”

Shepard huffs. “Yeah. We have.”

“But you’re just gonna get bent out of shape about not being able to do everything yourself, anyway.”

“Have you met me?” Shepard says with a helpless shrug.

“Yeah, I’ve had the pleasure,” Kaidan says with a chuckle. He pushes his chair back. “Come on, then.”

Shepard casts him a suspicious look. “Come where?”

“To the gym.”

“Alenko—”

“Come on.” He nods towards the elevator and starts walking, smirking a little when Shepard’s chair scrapes against the floor and his feet hit the deckplates.

“You’re just dying to give me a taste of my own medicine, aren’t you,” Shepard grouches when they board the lift.

“Oh, definitely.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Apparently not when it comes to taking people’s pistols out of their hands.”

Shepard chuckles, though he tries to choke off a smile by looking down at his feet. When they get to the gym Kaidan digs a canteen out of his locker and sets it down on one of the sparring mats.

“I’m guessing that your training didn’t include a lot of control drills,” he says.

Shepard shakes his head. “Tulak wasn’t big on control. Overwhelming tidal force tends to be the krogan approach.”

“You don’t say.”

“Sarcasm does not become you, Alenko.”

Kaidan grins and points to the canteen. “Start simple. Just lift it off the ground.”

Shepard rolls his eyes, but taps into the gravity well, corona enveloping him in a shroud of snapping blue tendrils. The hairs on Kaidan’s arms stand on end.

It’s so rare he gets to just watch Shepard work. All unrestrained power, from the loose, angry snarl of his corona to the sweeping mnemonics, make him seem larger than life. When he swipes the canteen off the floor he does it with his entire arm. The canteen leaps into the air, nearly hitting the ceiling before Shepard wrangles it. He only holds it still for half a second before sending it skidding to the other side of the gym.

“Hm,” Kaidan says.

Shepard gives him a withering look before marching off to fetch the wayward canteen. “It’s small. I don’t do well with small.”

“Not sure the size trips you up as much as you think it does,” Kaidan muses. “That mnemonic of yours applies some pretty impressive force automatically, so you’re already playing catch up if you’re trying to control the speed or direction.”

“See, I can’t tell if you’re complimenting me or giving me shit.”

“Both.”

“Har.”

Shepard resets the canteen and comes back to Kaidan to try it again, standing close but not so close their fields intersect. Kaidan watches through three variations that all end almost the same way, too much force being applied to the canteen, making it nearly impossible for Shepard to control where it goes, or where it doesn’t.

Doesn’t matter that he’s not accomplishing what it intends. The way the gravity well cants under his touch, the way his corona lights him ablaze like a flickering star, the way it caresses every nerve in Kaidan’s body like a swash of silk is mesmerizing. Kaidan swallows before trying to speak.

“Good news is, if we ever need someone to punt a suspicious canteen into space, I know who to call.”

Shepard rolls his eyes. “And if you’re not around to yank pistols out of terrorist hands?”

“Well, first, I will be around. But second, as for the pistol, yanking it towards you isn’t so different from kicking it away from you.” He cracks a grin. “In your case you just need to be prepared to duck.”

“Have I mentioned that separating the pistol from the person holding it wouldn’t end well for anyone?” Shepard says. “If you were to go hold that canteen in your palm and ask me to do what I just did, you wouldn’t like me very much.”

I doubt that.

“One problem at a time,” Kaidan says. “Let’s work on controlling the canteen by itself, then we’ll add clutter.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?”

“You need a new mnemonic. You’re fighting yourself by adding force and trying to take it away at the same time.”

“I’m sensing a metaphor.”

Kaidan smirks. “Think that says more about you than it does me.” Before Shepard can protest he raises an arm. “Watch me. You don’t have to use my mnemonic, but I want you to see something different so you can visualize it.”

Shepard folds his arms across his chest, but does what Kaidan asks. A nervous thrill runs through him at the undivided attention.

Kaidan waves a wrist, a hard-learned, hard-fought mnemonic that now feels as natural as breathing. Dark energy rushes through him, responsive and willing, as his fingers flex and settle a field over the canteen. Very little mass-shifting needed to pick up a light-weight canteen, which makes it tricky to keep from doing exactly what Shepard did – send it spinning out of control. But Kaidan has spent years perfecting his ability to do exactly this, so the canteen rises off the floor until it reaches eye level. Kaidan closes his fist and holds it still, floating almost motionless in mid-air.

“That mnemonic is so damned subtle,” Shepard says with an appreciative shake of his head. A flush builds at the back of Kaidan’s neck.

“Easier for me that way.”

Shepard grunts and unfolds his arms. “I was never good at levitation.”

“Because your mnemonics always apply force.”

“Need force to yank that pistol.”

“Sure, but if you want to control it, you need to learn how to hold it still.”

“I’m not good at still.”

“I know,” Kaidan says, lips curving into a smile. “So come here and let me show you.”

Shepard strays a step closer into Kaidan’s biotic field. The blend of auras creates a low keen through his nerves, familiar but always striking. The canteen wavers before falling to the ground.

“Sorry,” Shepard mumbles, but doesn’t back away.

“It’s fine,” Kaidan says, lifting the canteen again with another float of his palm.

Their eyes lock for a moment before Shepard clears his throat and looks down at Kaidan’s hand.

“You put everything in your wrist.”

“Yeah,” he manages. “You do it all with your arms.”

“Yeah.”

“So maybe, if you’re looking for finesse, try to create a mnemonic that’s a little, uh, smaller.”

“With my wrist.”

“Right. Um, I’ll show you. Here.” He steps in front of Shepard, angling his body to align their right arms. He takes Shepard’s right hand guides it to his wrist, tingle running down his spine when his fingers close around it. Shepard glances at him with soft eyes that stop the breath in his throat, but doesn’t object.

“Hands-on teacher?”

“Best way to learn,” Kaidan replies, gaze flicking to Shepard’s mouth before going back to the canteen. “Just follow my lead. Don’t act on the canteen. Concentrate on what my arm does. Visualize it.”

“Sure,” Shepard murmurs.

Kaidan reaches into the gravity well, his own corona unfurling, a steady candle to Shepard’s flaring torch. Goosebumps rise on Shepard’s arm, a subtle reminder that he’s human after all, one Kaidan is almost never close enough to witness.

He takes a deep breath and flexes his wrist, Shepard’s fingers loose and feather-light against his skin. A crackle of dark energy passes between them before he snares the canteen and turns his wrist palm-up to lift it off the floor, Shepard close enough his breath washes over Kaidan’s cheek. The canteen wavers but Kaidan keeps it afloat for several seconds, the mingle of auras, ripple of kinetic energy and closeness of Shepard enough to make him dizzy.

He lets it go with a clatter and puts space between them.

“Does that help?” he asks, trying not to sound breathless.

“Yeah. It does.” Shepard’s gaze stays on him, still and steady. “Might take a while to hard-wire my brain for something in the wrist.”

“Doesn’t have to be that. It could be something else. But you associate those big movements with force. Take that away, you might have more luck with leaving velocity out of the initial execution, so you can add it how you need it. Have more control over it.”

Shepard’s mouth crooks in a half-smile. “Sure I’m not a lost cause when it comes to control?”

“I’m sure.”

Shepard breaks his gaze and focuses on the canteen, brow furrowed in concentration. Twice he catches himself using his arm, then nearly wrenches his wrist trying to restrict the movement.

“It’s so ingrained,” he says with a shake of his head.

“That’s why they work,” Kaidan says with a smile. “Here.” He steps close once again, positions reversed with his hand on Shepard’s wrist this time. “Let me help.”

“Fuck, your hands are cold,” Shepard says with a laugh.

Hastily, he loosens his grip. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Shepard says with a grin. “Go on.”

Gently, Kaidan closes his fingers again. Shepard trains his eyes on the canteen, though they dart to Kaidan ever so briefly.

Shepard’s corona is so bright, so fierce, it’s a wonder he can wrangle it at all. Kaidan breathes in deep, letting his own kindle, the snick and crackle as they blend together forming a resonant hum that hovers just under his skin.

When Shepard’s arm moves, Kaidan tightens his grip, keeping the motion small. Instead of his usual languid, fluid posture, Shepard’s arm is stiff and resistant against him. The canteen spins in a circle but stays on the ground.

“Breathe, Shepard,” Kaidan says softly. “Just let it happen.”

Shepard inhales deep, like someone trying to relearn how. This time they move together, Kaidan picking up the slack when Shepard falters, until the canteen hovers briefly in the air. It’s more under Kaidan’s control than Shepard’s, but it’s a start, and that’s what matters.

They gutter out and the canteen falls, but Kaidan doesn’t let go and doesn’t step away, not yet, not quite yet, not while the remnants of kinetic energy are still sharp in the air and he has to remind himself to breathe, too.

“How do you do that?” Shepard murmurs. “You worked around me, without…taking over. How do you do that?”

Their eyes lock for just a moment. God Kaidan could get lost there if he’s not careful. “Practice. Years of it.”

Let go.

He means to. He means to. In his head he loosens his hold on Shepard’s wrist, drops his hand away and puts space between them. That’s what he tells himself to do. That’s what he intends to do.

But while he does loosen his grip, instead of fall away, Kaidan’s fingertips brush Shepard’s knuckles, the pad of his thumb running along the round muscle of his palm.

It’s an accident. Just an accident. So many of their touches are, but rather than move or pull away, rather than let it be just another one of those excusable, explainable slips, Shepard exhales, the breath fluttering out of him, then splays his fingers wider, as if making room for Kaidan’s to slot between them.

Let go, let go.

But instead he explores the open space Shepard has left for him, fingertips light, hesitant, ghosting Shepard’s skin as he finds where they fit, hovering, hoping, but never daring to rest. Never giving up the ruse.

It’s an accident. It doesn’t mean anything.

Except it does.

Shepard stays still as a stone save for the rise and fall of his chest. They’re close enough now their cheeks almost touch, though whether Kaidan moves or Shepard does to close that gap he can’t say.

The next time Kaidan’s fingers trespass through that open space, Shepard closes his around them and traps them there.

Kaidan’s breath hitches.

The gravity well sighs as Shepard calls to it, glow of dark energy limming their hands, accompanied by a soundless hum that strums every nerve in Kaidan’s body before settling in his groin. Without thinking his other hand comes to rest on Shepard’s hip, needing something, anything, to hold onto.

A soft sound stirs in Shepard’s throat. Kaidan’s hand doesn’t stay on that hip for long, because Shepard seeks those fingers out, too, lacing them together. Kaidan folds both arms until Shepard is surrounded by them. There’s no imagining any space between them now – their cheeks rest against each other, Kaidan tightening his hold until Shepard is snug against his chest.

Shepard turns his head, but after briefly meeting each other’s gaze, his eyes drift down to Kaidan’s mouth.

Kaidan can still let go. There’s still a way out. Chalk it up to adrenaline, nerves leftover from the standoff on the Ontario. They can walk it off, laugh, pretend it never happened, continue on like they always have.

But he doesn’t let go, and then the millimeters between Shepard’s lips and Kaidan’s no longer exist and the window is gone.

Shepard’s mouth is warm, soft, lips tinged with the salt of his sweat. They start out slow, cautious, neither of them daring to think about it too hard, but that’s not a problem for long, because soon there’s no room to think about anything at all.

Nothing else matters but this.

Slow and cautious becomes deep and headlong, Kaidan pushing his tongue between Shepard’s teeth, Shepard sighing into his mouth and taking him in. His fingers tighten around Kaidan’s, the glow of dark energy rippling out from their joined hands until it swallows them whole. Kaidan gasps at the sensation.

Shepard kisses him harder.

God.

Kaidan wants to spin him around, throw his arms around his neck and meet him head on, give in to everything, all of it, but he can’t bear the thought of turning loose of that hand.

They part when they run out of air, both straining to catch their breath, fingers still entwined, Shepard still firmly ensconced in Kaidan’s arms as his corona fades.

Shepard rests his cheek against Kaidan’s, ensconcing himself a little further.

“Oh,” he says softly.

“Yeah.”

Shepard’s fingers flex within his, twining and retwining, never letting go.

“You…don’t seem surprised.”

Kaidan closes his eyes, breathing him in, a star he’s somehow pulled down out of the heavens and trapped right here in his arms. “No. Felt it…for a long time now.”

“Oh.”

“…Yeah.”

Their coronas may have faded, but the mingle of their biotic fields is a constant, soothing whisper under Kaidan’s skin. A small, contented sound slips from Shepard’s throat.

“Why didn’t I see it?”

Kaidan huffs. “To be fair, I don’t think either of us are very good at this kind of thing.”

Shepard tightens his grip on Kaidan’s fingers and pulls them to his chest. The race of Shepard’s heart thrums under their joined hands. If Kaidan had any illusions about letting him go, they’re gone now.

“I think I’d like to learn,” Shepard says.

Kaidan’s stomach flips. “Me too.”

They stay still, Kaidan content to hold him, Shepard content to be held, until their lips find each other once more. Kissing Shepard is easy, effortless, like it’s something they were meant to do, a safe place for the live current running under their skin to go to ground.

Shepard, against all evidence to the contrary, is…safe.

Shepard gazes at him when they part, and butterflies cut loose in Kaidan’s stomach.

“You’re very good at that,” Shepard murmurs.

“We’re very good at a lot of things.”

“Yeah. We are.” He draws Kaidan’s hand up to press a kiss to his knuckles. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” Kaidan admits. “What do you want?”

“You.”

A shiver runs down Kaidan’s spine, the euphoria of that one, single word enough to make him lightheaded. So simple. So complicated. They’ll have choices to make, all of them with compromises and consequences. But that’s something for tomorrow. Right now there is only the truth.

“I want that, too.”

Shepard releases Kaidan’s hand to turn until they’re face to face, then runs his fingers through the hairs growing over Kaidan’s right temple. All the while those glittering eyes search Kaidan’s face, as though reconciling all the things he knows with the things he’s learning for the first time.

The corners of his eyes crinkle as a smile spreads across his face, pure, open, and full of possibility. “Taste of my own medicine, huh?”

“Well…” Kaidan shrugs helplessly, and Shepard’s grin only gets deeper.

“Seems like I should have let you teach me a few things a long time ago.”

Kaidan flexes his fingers, a curl of dark energy igniting in his palm that draws out goosebumps along Shepard’s arm. “All in the wrist.”

Shepard laughs. It’s like music. “You and me.”

“I like that,” Kaidan murmurs, before kissing him again. “I like that a lot.”

#mshenko #kaidan alenko #mass effect #my fic #UST with biotics #in case anyone is wondering #the number of first kisses I have written for Sam and Kaidan #is currently sitting at 7 #and that's just the first kisses i have WRITTEN #¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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allisondraste · 3 years

Text

Cockroaches and Other Things That Just Keep On Living

Fandom: Mass Effect

Ship: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian

Word Count: 4019

Summary: It's only been two weeks since the Reaper War ended, and the Alliance is already trying to bury Shepard.

[Click Here for A03]

Two weeks. It had only been two weeks since the war ended, since that devastating flash of red light burst from the Citadel and bounced off every active relay in the galaxy, since the Reapers fell dead in space and the Normandy crash landed on some tropical little human colony world just on the edge of the Terminus Systems. It had just been two weeks, but the Alliance and the rest of the whole damn galaxy were already willing to declare Shepard dead. And to add insult to injury, they’d given Garrus the great honor and privilege of hanging her name up on a memorial wall in some trite ceremony to make the crew feel better.

“There isn’t anyone who could’ve been at the epicenter of that blast and survived,” Hackett had explained, far too matter-of-factly. “It’s time for us to move forward.”

“Shepard isn’t just anyone,” Garrus had replied, and then promptly told the admiral where to shove his plaque. It was not his finest moment.

Now, he sat in the mess hall, alone and staring down at the dextro-amino rations he’d barely touched. The bastardized version of some overly seasoned human dish would have been unappetizing even if he had an appetite. But he didn’t. Something about the person he loved being declared dead left a sour taste in his mouth. He’d only even tried to eat because Liara insisted, and he wasn’t in the mood for another well meant lecture about taking care of himself.

No longer willing to bother, he shoved the plate away from him with the back of his hand, and looked up in just enough time to catch Williams walk past him. She stopped, performed a proper about-face and marched up to his table.

“Hey,” Ash greeted him like she’d never spoken to him before in her life.

“Hey,” Garrus replied and watched as she shifted uncomfortably and darted her eyes around the entire room before meeting his gaze.

She motioned to an empty seat across the table from him. “Can I— I mean, do you want some company? You just look—”

“Like I’m one news vid about the ‘late’ Commander Shepard away from going postal?” He let out a derisive snort. “Yeah.”

Williams smirked and eased herself down onto the bench without waiting for him to agree to her company. “I was going to say ‘like shit,’ but that works too.”

He answered her dryly. “Gee. Thanks.”

There was a pause in conversation, then Ash tilted her head in that sympathetic way every human who knew him seemed to do since Earth. “Seriously though… how are you holding up?”

I’m not , Garrus thought, but the words didn’t make it to his mouth, just sarcasm.. “Didn’t realize you cared… or is this just one of those human things where you pretend to care for my benefit?”

She leaned back and raised an eyebrow. “Do I seem like the kind of person who pretends to do anything for anyone’s benefit, especially yours?”

He laughed. “Fair.”

“Listen, this is off the record but… Hackett had that mouthful coming.” She laughed and shook her head. “I’m just glad it was you that said it and not me because, well, I like my job.”

If anyone had told Garrus that one day, he’d have a heart-to-heart with the human woman who’d spent their entire first mission together shooting daggers at him from across Normandy’s shuttle bay, he’d have said they were crazy. But there they were, raw from the absence of someone who meant so much to the both of them.

“It’s been two weeks,” he muttered, looking down at his hands. “ Two. They haven’t even found her bod—“ he tried and failed to choke back the lump in his throat, but continued talking anyway, glancing up at her— “It’s too damn soon, Ash.”

“I know,” came her firm reply as she reached across the table. She hesitated for a split second, but then let her hand fall on top of his. Deep brown eyes welled up with tears that she tried to blink away. She let out a frustrated huff as one rolled down her cheek anyway, then cleared her throat. “ Damn. Pretend this isn’t happening.” “Pretend what isn’t happening, Williams?”

“Perfect,” she remarked, wiping her face with the heel of her free hand and laughing. “Kind of hard to believe it’s only been three years since we tracked down Saren. Feels like a lifetime ago.”

“And look at us now, being mostly civil,” he said with a sigh, staring down at Ash’s hand. Alien as it was, it reminded him of Shepard’s, strong to be as small as it was, with too many fingers. He recalled the many times those fingers had traced the hard edges of his face, how that hand had fit so comfortably into his (after a few clumsy attempts, of course). He’d take another missile to the face to hold it again.

“You know, Shepard worked her ass off to convince me it’d be fine having aliens on board an Alliance vessel,” Ash observed playfully, pulling him from his thoughts.

“You? Paranoid over a handful of non-humans? I’m shocked .”

“Nothing personal,” she explained,“Just didn’t feel comfortable sharing a station with a guy whose grandpa probably shot at mine during the War.”

“Hate to break it to you but—” he leaned back in his seat— “My grandfather was just a run of the mill C-Sec officer. All he would have done was write your grandfather a nasty citation. ‘Being human in Citadel space,’ used to be a finable offense.”

“God,” she said with another laugh, “Back then, I rolled my eyes and told Shepard I’d do whatever she wanted me to do. ‘You tell me to jump, I ask how high. You tell me to kiss a turian, I’ll ask which cheek.’”

“We don’t really have cheeks,” Garrus corrected, laughing when Ash shot him a pointed look, “But that’s beside the point. I’m guessing Shepard never followed through with that order.”

“No, she told me, and I quote, ‘Nobody’s going to be kissing any turians on this mission, Ash,’” she said in her best Shepard impression, then muttered, “Fucking liar.”

“Well, to her credit, I don’t think she planned on me being so… irresistable.”

Ash snorted and rolled her eyes. “Okay, ladykiller .”

There was another pause in conversation, and her expression fell. She looked down to where her hand still lay on his. “Back then, I just assumed you’d jump ship as soon as things got rocky, as soon as we— as Shepard — really needed you, but…” She trailed off, grip tightening around his hand. “You never let her down, not once. Not even when I—”

“You didn’t let her down, Ash,” he argued, sensing where she was headed, “She never thought that.”

“Yeah, well I do,” she snapped, words clipped, “I should have seen the signs that Cerberus had her pinned down, but I let my ego get in the way. I’m surprised she wanted anything to do with me after that.”

“You’re not the only one who has ever screwed up trying to do the right thing,” he reassured her, “Shepard, of all people, understood that.”

“That’s… you’re probably right,” she nodded and looked up at him, “Thanks. And for whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Uh, sorry for what?”

“For ever believing you weren’t an important part of the crew,” she stated seriously, then smiled, “And for calling you birdbrain behind your back.”

Garrus’ mandibles flared in amusement, and he gave her hand a few friendly pats. “No harm done,” he said, then paused for a beat, “Besides, you didn’t hear what I said behind your back.”

One of her eyebrows shot up. “You talked shit about me?”

“So much.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute,” shouted a familiar voice from across the mess, causing them both to snap their heads toward the sound. “Somebody get this heartwarming moment on camera.”

Ash stiffened, retracting her hand quickly and stuffing it under the table. “Joker.”

“Hey, Joker.” Garrus waved. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” he answered, words pointed. “You know, aside from the soul-crushing agony of my girlfriend dying. ”

Garrus had spent enough time around humans to know that the Flight Lieutenant looked rough, even for someone who’d never cared about keeping up appearances. His eyes were red, the skin underneath dark enough that even the shadow cast from his hat couldn’t disguise the lack of sleep. He made his way unsteadily to the table and sat down next to Williams.

Garrus opened his mouth, preparing to speak, to express sympathy, but Joker cut him off. “And before you start with any of that ‘I understand how you feel’ crap— no you don’t. Everyone knows you can’t say Shepard’s dead until we’ve ID’d the body. Maybe not even then. She just keeps living… like a cockroach. ”

“You know you could just say, ‘I’m not doing so hot,” right?” Ash scolded him, but there was still a softness to her voice. “You don’t have to be an ass about it.”

“Yeah, but see… being an ass is way more my style.”

The table went completely quiet as Joker crossed his arms over his chest and scowled, tension palpable enough it might as well have had mass. Not one for tolerating awkward silences, Garrus ventured a question. “What the hell is a cockroach?”

Ash smiled, clearly thankful for the change in subject, and began to explain. “They’re these—“

“ Beetles ,” Joker cut her off, “Big, disgusting ones that are supposed to be able to survive extreme conditions other organics can’t.”

“Sounds about right,” Garrus admitted with a shrug.

The pilot flinched and glared at him. “Wait. I called Shepard a disgusting beetle and you’re just okay with that?”

“Are you kidding? Why wouldn’t I be,” he asked sarcastically, “It actually explains why she kept molting. ”

“You’re having fun. Stop it,” Joker whined, scowl deepening, “Stop having fun!”

Garrus laughed and threw his hands up in surrender. “This isn’t exactly my idea of fun. My cockroach is missing.”

Joking though he was, his words were honest, something Joker must have detected. His expression softened even as he puffed his chest out. He deflated immediately as another familiar voice called out, likely interrupting whatever barrage of barbs he’d prepared to hurl at Garrus. This time, it was Vega who strutted over to the table carrying an entire fifth of some sort of human liquor. Cortez trailed solemnly behind him, examining the rectangular objects in his hands.

“Yo, don’t tell me the party started without us,” shouted Vega, setting the alcohol down on the table with a loud clank , pointing a thumb back at Cortez, “Esteban here took forever polishing the name plaques.”

Garrus stiffened at the mention of the plaques, knowing full and well there had been one commissioned with Shepard’s name on it despite all his protests. Turned out, the Alliance brass didn’t give a damn about some loud mouth former C-Sec officer or his feelings after all. He just hoped none of the humans were able to read the pain in his expression— a hope that was in vain if the sympathetic glance Cortez gave him was any indication.

“What’s that for?” Ashley pointed to the bottle of amber liquid Vega sat on the table.

“What do you think,” Vega asked, as if his intentions should have been completely clear, “I’m going to pour one out for the commander.”

“All over the Normandy's floor?” She raised her brows at him.

“Nah.” He gave her a dismissive wave. “Just down the sink or somethin’.”

She picked the bottle up and examined the label more closely. “But…this is expensive stuff, James.”

“Don’t care,” came Vega’s indignant response, “It’s for Lola.”

Ashley gave him a solemn nod, seeming to understand whatever peculiar human tradition he was planning to perform. Satisfied, Vega turned his attention to Joker, snagging his cap, flipping it around, and placing it down on his head backwards. Joker cursed and grumbled, calling Vega a bully among other things, but Vega just smiled and walked over to Garrus, giving him a supportive clap on the shoulder.

Slowly, the rest of the crew began to filter in, each with their own expressions of concern. Traynor and Tali arrived together, deep in conversation if the emphatic hand gestures were any indication. They both quieted as they arrived at the table, Traynor frowning and bowing her head, whileTali approached and slid comfortably into the seat next to Garrus.

She looked down at the uneaten food and back up at him, giving him a nudge with her elbow and complaining. “You are wasting all of the good dextro rations.”

“Good? Oh, come on, we both know it’s garbage.”

“Well… yes, but it’s digestible garbage,” she said, holding a finger up to make her point. Her voice softened when she continued. “And you’ve hardly eaten anything the past few days.”

He sighed and looked down at the rations. “Yeah.”

Tali observed him for a second, eyes glowing behind her helmet. She then grabbed his plate and slid it toward him. “Eat up, Vakarian. Or else I will have to feed you myself… with a spoon I am pretending is the Normandy.”

Garrus let out a laugh despite himself. “I don’t think that’ll work, Tali.”

“You don’t know that. You haven’t heard my engine noises.” She laughed along with him for a few seconds, then grew quiet once again and gave him a gentle pat on the back. “The Alliance is going to feel very silly when Shepard gets back and they have to explain why they hung her name up on the wall and sold her hamster.”

“ If she makes it back this time.”

“She will,” Tali asserted, voice cracking, “She has to.”

It was Javik who entered next, voice booming in a debate with Liara, who had taken it upon herself to explain human customs for memorializing the dead. He shook his head and ignored her entirely, stating that if he wished for a history lesson, he would ask for one. He then snapped his many-eyed gaze to Garrus.

“You should not be saddened about Shepard’s fate, Garrus. She died with great honor.”

Liara let out an exasperated sigh, and sat down in one of the empty seats at the next table over, bringing her hand to her face.

“What is it, asari?” Javik snapped, “Honor in death is something turians hold in high regard, is it not? This should be a great comfort to him.”

“Perhaps with time,” Liara explained,”But right now it is… insensitive.”

“It’s nothing my dad hasn’t already told me a dozen times,” Garrus stated flatly, “I appreciate the sentiment.”

Weird that a fifty-thousand year-old Prothean reminded him of his dad. Then again, Castis Vakarian was as about as traditional as turians came, and they butted heads on almost every subject, including but not limited to: Garrus’ disregard for rules, his decision to leave C-Sec—twice, his “risk- and attention-seeking” behavior, and his “absurd infatuation with a human woman”. Their relationship had always been strained, to say the least. Still, he had always been there when Garrus needed him, and listened when it mattered. He was the first call Garrus made from the medbay after the Reapers were destroyed, when he realized Shepard might not be coming back.

He’d been sympathetic, but not even remotely comforting, not unlike Javik was at present. Garrus just didn’t have it in him to explain to either how little he cared about the honorable nature of her sacrifice, the high esteem the galaxy now held her in, or the way history would remember her. None of that mattered when she wasn’t at his side. How could he be proud, when all he felt was empty?

Once all parties arrived and settled in, the group spent time talking and sharing memories. The Alliance crew members all told stories about encounters with Admiral Anderson, how he more often felt like a parent than a commanding officer, and how his reputation was so much larger than his ego. Traynor did most of the talking about EDI, their friendship, and how seamlessly she’d fit into the crew, how easy it had been to forget she was an AI. Joker just pulled the bill of his cap down to cover his eyes. Then, the reminiscence moved to the commander.

Every single person present had a story about Shepard, about how she went above and beyond the call of duty to help them, and to make sure they were taken care of while aboard the Normandy. Shepard had always taken time to check in with the people who worked for her, even when the galaxy was falling apart and herself along with it. She was a good leader, arguably the best, and an even better friend. It was clear that everyone in the room admired her, and that she was missed.

Garrus knew he should say something, tell one of the many stories of the trouble he and Shepard had gotten into together. The others all watched him expectantly as he scrambled for words.

“I—“ he began, but was interrupted by the buzzing of his omni-tool, followed by several bright flashes of light. He cursed and pulled up the interface to silence the damn thing. An urgent message alert flashed on his screen, and he tapped the icon to open it.

From: Dr. Chloe Michel

Subject: Jane Doe

Dear Garrus,

I hope this email reaches you, and that you are still alive to read it. I am on the Citadel working with an emergency medical unit out of what is left of Huerta Memorial. The blast from the Crucible caused some severe structural damage near the epicenter, and we have been searching the area to find and identify survivors and remains.

There is a Jane Doe here, who I believe you might know. Please contact me on a private channel whenever you are able.

Take Care,

Chloe

His heart sank like lead into his gut as he read what could only be a request to come in and identify a corpse. The space around him was suddenly too full, too loud, and the curious eyes of his companions lingered on him for far longer than comfortable. He tapped the display on his omni-tool once again to close it, glancing around the room from one set of eyes to another.

“It’s nothing,” he lied. The truth would only cause unnecessary alarm he wasn’t equipped to handle at the moment. He stood abruptly, a jolt of pain coursing through his leg that was still recovering from a fracture, and excused himself. “Just need to make a quick call.”

“Now,” Liara asked, frowning, “But the memorial ceremony was just about to begin.”

“So start without me,” he snapped and made his way to the main battery. He’d apologize later, when his world wasn’t caving in.

The battery doors shut behind him with a familiar hiss and he sank down into his seat next to the workbench where his favorite rifle lay surrounded by tools and unused thermal clips. It had taken a beating in the battle on Earth, and Garrus had poured over repairing it in the days following its end. He hadn’t touched it since. There were no more enemies to fight, and the gun just reminded him of Shepard.

Bringing up his omni-tool once again, Garrus established a link using the information Michel provided him. He only waited a second or two before a voice on the other end picked up.

“Garrus,” exclaimed the woman, “I am so glad you received my message.”

“About that Jane Doe,” he began, cutting straight to the chase, “I— do you need me to identify the b— her ?”

“No… it is Commander Shepard,” she explained, “I am absolutely certain.”

“ Oh, ” Garrus said with the breath he’d been holding. He was glad he was already sitting down, as the last shreds of hope he’d been clinging to slipped from his grasp leaving him dizzy and sick. It was Shepard. She was dead. There was nothing to be done about it.

He took a minute to collect himself and his thoughts, cleared his throat and told the doctor, “I, uh…I’m not really sure how to— I mean, I guess I should make funeral arrangements. That’d be better than letting the Alliance—“

“Garrus,” Michel interjected firmly, “She’s alive.”

“ What,” he asked, more loudly than he’d intended. Hoping nobody had overheard outside, he lowered his voice and continued, “I mean, how is she? What’s her condition? Is she going to—”

“I won’t lie to you,” the doctor interrupted again, “Her injuries are serious, and she has been comatose since we found her. Still, her vitals are strong and stable at present. She is a fighter.”

“She is.”

The line was silent for a beat then Michel spoke up again. “I had a wonder… Shepard’s body has, ehm… extensive cybernetic modification. More extensive than I have seen. We are not certain how, or if it is even possible to repair all of the damage.”

One name came immediately to mind. “Miranda Lawson.”

“Pardon?”

“You need to contact Miranda Lawson,” Garrus clarified, “She is an ex-Cerberus operative, the scientist responsible for Shepard’s upgrades. And a friend. She will be able to help. I can send you her contact information.”

“Good, yes. I will contact her immediately,” Michel replied, relief noticeable in her voice. She then sighed and said, “I apologize for sending such a vague email. I am realizing now that it was likely… anxiety provoking. I simply did not wish for the wrong people to find out about Shepard’s survival.”

Garrus huffed, “Yeah, if the media caught wind of this, it’d be a circus.”

“That is what I feared,” she agreed with a sigh, “Besides, I thought you should be the first to see her. I know she is important to you.”

“Thank you, doc. For everything.”

“It is the very least I can do. I owe my life to the both of you. Twice over, now it would seem:”

“I’ll get to the Citadel as soon as I can.”

“Talk to you then.”

The call ended with a beep and Garrus shut off his omni-tool display, staring blankly at the wall on the opposite side of the room for several minutes, attempting to recover from the emotional whiplash the last half hour had given him. He took a deep breath, rose to his feet, and headed back out to the mess hall.

All eyes turned to him as he made his way toward the memorial wall just outside the elevator. EDI’s and Anderson’s names had already been placed, tears already shed. Now they looked to Garrus, Cortez approaching with the name plaque meant to commemorate Shepard’s death. He took the polished silver plate and examined it, light glinting off its corners as he stepped up to the wall. For a long moment he traced the letters of a name that had come to mean so much to him, to those crowded in the narrow hallway around him, to the hundreds of thousands who’d cheered from ships in the massive fleet she’d rallied and led to victory, and to the billions of lives she’d saved across the galaxy. Shepard deserved so much more than a name on a wall.

And now, just maybe, she could have it.

Garrus would have preferred to keep Shepard’s survival to himself, to snag her from the hospital and elope to some secluded tropical paradise where nobody could ask anything of either of them again, except “Would you like a refill on that incredibly alcoholic beverage?” But he knew he couldn’t do that. After all, he was not the only one who loved her.

Lowering the plaque, he turned to face the others, all of whom looked at him with a mix of confusion and concern. He glanced down at Shepard’s name again, mandibles flaring out reflexively as relief and excitement swelled in his chest.

“They found her. They found Shepard,” he told them, bringing his eyes to meet their gazes as he spoke. “She’s alive.”

#mass effect #mass effect legendary edition #garrus vakarian #shakarian #ashley williams #tali'zorah #fanfic #my writing

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years

Text

The Perfect Bad Boy (Pt. 04 of 18)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 2.9K

Summary: Working as a lifeguard in the Hawkins Community Pool, you try to fit in after moving from New York. Things were going pretty well when you notice you've been under someone's stare. Billy Hargrove, Hawkins' bad boy, has been staring at you since day one. You never intended to have anything to do with him, judging by the reputation he has. But Billy won't leave you alone, determined to show you his feelings are different this time...

As if your heart flooding you with confusing feelings wasn't enough, there are weird, strange animals lurking in the woods... But those have to be just part of the wild live of the woods surrounding Hawkins... Right?

<- Previous part (03)

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{Stranger Things Masterlist}

Walls Start Falling

“(Y/N), that was insane,” Monica says as you have your lunch break. “Billy never did that. He never cared enough.”

You're still a mess, a confusing, flustered mess. But you made up your mind. Yesterday's events were madness. But it was just Billy being nice, you concluded. Another reason for you to be thankful and to give friendship a chance. Nothing else. “Yeah, it was nice of him to do that.” You try to keep it cool, your voice steady.

“Weren't you even a little bit... Excited about that?” She lowers her voice, even though there's nobody else around.

“Well...” Lying is not your thing, so you just have to tune it down a bit. “I was surprised. Perplexed and... I don't know. It felt good to have someone stand up for me.” You remember how cute it was when Christopher defended Monica, and see it happening to you a while after did send chills down your spine. But there's no reason for you to believe it was anything else. Billy might think he likes you, but he doesn't know you enough yet. That reminds you of another thing you have to tell Mon. “He... Billy told me something weird yesterday.” Mumbling, you drum your fingers on the table.

“What?”

“That he... That he likes me.” It only takes four words to make Monica stand up abruptly as if bit by a snake.

“Why in the hell didn't you tell me that the moment you set foot in this pool?”

You can't help but giggle. “Because it's not a big deal. You can't just decide you like someone you don't even know.” Shrugging your shoulders, you play with your food.

“Look. Something happened to Billy in senior year.” She starts. “He was in this awful car accident and if it wasn't for his sister and her friends, he'd be dead. After that he... Changed. Not completely, but he stopped treating his sister like shit.” It makes you curious. You haven't seen any scars on Billy, and nobody told you about any kind of accident. Maybe you could ask him about it sometime.

“And what does it has to do with anything?”

“It means that he changed then so he can change now.” It has some physiological background she's not explaining. “Just... You can be a normal girl around me, ok? We're friends, we're supposed to tell each other this kind of things.”

It's not that you don't want to open up, you just don't want to think about Billy all the time. But you guess it's ok. You feel like you can trust Monica, even about things you're a little scared about. “I know. But tell you what exactly?” You ask, taking a sip from your lemonade.

Her lips break into a smile. “Like the fact that you find Billy hot.” You almost choke, clearing your throat as you put the glass down. “You said that yourself. Yesterday when you shoved into David's face that he's envious of Billy because he's way hotter.”

“Billy is... Cute.” That's a good word, you decide. It's kind, it's not a lie, and it sounds casual.

“Have you ever seen him shirtless?”

“Yes. We're both lifeguards on Hawkins Community Pool and it's Summer, so yes.” Mon rolls her eyes at you sarcastic tone, but you just smile at her.

“Ok. But have you stopped to actually look?”

“Monica, I won't stare at the guy.”

“Why not? He stares at you.”

“It's different.” You snap.

“How so?”

You don't know how to answer. You don't even know exactly what's going on with you, or with Billy, or with this whole town. It doesn't matter how hard you think, you can't come up with a satisfactory answer, one that will be enough for your brain to stop forming questions. Monica is restless, and sometimes you catch yourself wishing she won't call. And she doesn't even know that Billy kissed you in the cheek. If you tell her that, you'll never hear the end of it. “I don't–” The door is open suddenly and it makes you shut up immediately. And the person who comes in makes you nervously move in your chair, sitting up straight.

“Were you talking about me?” Billy asks with a smirk.

“No.” You burst out, ready to stand up and head back to your chair. But Monica moves first, giving you such a hard stare that it makes you sit back down.

“Gotta go.” She says, storming out of the cafeteria.

Billy sits where Monica was, looking at you, as usual. “You were talking about me, weren't you?”

“No,” you repeat, cursing yourself for lying. “My lunch break will be over in-” you take a quick look at the clock above the fridge. “-three minutes. So I gotta go too.”

“Tomorrow is our day off. What are you up to?” He says when you reach the door.

You do have somewhere to be, thank God. “Mon invited me for a trail in the woods. With her crew...” You lock eyes with him again, and somehow, even though the distance, you feel the weight. It's not a bad kind of weight... It's different. It's gentle. “Wanna come?” It comes out faster than you can process it, so you look down, not sure if you want him to say yes or no.

“Yeah.”

You know he's smiling, and it has an effect on you. “We'll meet up at Benny's at nine. Don't be late or we'll leave without you.”

“I'll be there.” You listen as you walk away, thankful for the forty-five minutes you'll have on your chair without Billy being around.

•••

The sun is casting a beautiful golden light. It will be another hot day, and the fact that you'll be walking all morning isn't going to help. So you picked a light blue shirt with thin straps, short jeans, and comfortable white sneakers. You're leaning against Monica's car, parked in front of Benny's Burgers, doing a side french braid on your hair as you wait for the guys to get here. There's a fresh, morning wind blowing, and you breathe in the soft smell of coffee coming from Benny's. You didn't tell anyone about inviting Billy, so, if he doesn't show up, you won't have anyone talking about it.

Minutes later, the rest of Monica's crew gets here, five minutes before nine. You feel a little relieved that Billy won't come, actually. You've been trying to understand why the guy is making you so nervous when you're set to pursue nothing but a good friendship. Being confused is tiring. “Well, let's go,” Jason exclaims, and immediately, everyone starts getting in the cars. You're moving to sit on the passenger seat of Monica's car when Christopher calls shotgun. Great.

You're about to get into the back seat when you hear a car approaching, dangerously fast judging by the loud noise, and then it stops. You stand up straight, feeling your stomach burning when you see it's Billy's Camaro. “What the hell,” Mon mutters, giving you a glance.

Ignore her, you tell yourself. “Did you invite him?” Jason asks. “Or is he just crashing the party again?”

“I invited him. Hope it's not a problem.” Jason shakes his head no before getting into the car. But not before giving you a smirk. Well, you invited him, so you have to go and say hi. With your stupid heart beating faster, you walk over his car, offering a small smile when he steps out, standing by the door. “Hey. You're almost late.”

“Almost. Get in.”

“I'm going in Mon's car.” You gesture at where the two cars are parked. You get the feeling that you'll just end up in the same talk as last time, so you give up. “Just because I'm literally your only friend here.” Rolling your eyes, you gesture for the guys to go as you walk around the car to get to the passenger seat.

Billy follows the party until they stop randomly by the road. Everyone starts moving, getting their backpacks to get into the woods. You get yours from Monica's car, putting in on your back.

“Hey,” Billy calls, gesturing for you to get over his car with his index finger.

“What?”

He doesn't say anything as he takes the water bottle and snacks from your bag, putting in on his backpack. You watch, arms crossed, wondering why in the hell he's doing it without even asking if he could. Once your stuff is packed with his, he throws your empty bag on the passenger seat.

“Give me that,” you demand, reaching out your hand. “I'll carry through half of the way and you carry on the other half.” You raise an eyebrow at his smug smile as he hands you the pack. The moment he releases it, the weight pulls your arm down, and you have to push it back up before it hits the ground. “Damn, what do you have in here?” Suddenly you don't wanna carry this thing anymore. You should've just played along.

“Don't worry, princess, I can carry it.”

Shit. That name again.

“Fine.” You give him the bag, moving closer to the others.

“For the sake of our health, we're not going too far today,” Christopher announces, leading the way.

He keeps saying things, but you're not listening. You have never been in the woods, and you're too busy looking around, taking it in. Diane was lucky to have grown up in such a place, so beautifully calm, close to nature, being able to just run a few miles and be among the trees. You easily fall back, walking slightly slower than the party, mesmerized.

“It looks like you're enjoying it,” Billy says, and you notice he's purposely keeping your pace. But what else would he do? You're the only one he talks to in this group.

“It's beautiful. Living so close to the woods... It's just amazing. I can't believe I actually live here.” You're smiling like an idiot now, your eyes moving from the trees up to the blue sky. “What about you? Do you like living here?”

“Not in the beginning, but I got used to it, I guess.”

“I'm from New York, so you get the difference.” Shrugging your shoulders, you see something through the corner of your eye. It's small, and it jumps from a tree to the ground, running away. “A squirrel!” You exclaim, gesturing at a tree on our left. “I saw a squirrel.” Giving one last look at the group, you start moving to where you saw it going to.

“Wait up,” Billy calls since you're trying to walk as fast as you can without tripping on any branches.

You scan the woods, looking for any sign of the small animal, but you don't find anything. There's a slight slope on the way, so you use a fallen tree as a support as you move through it. But a rock moves under your foot, making you slip and fall on your butt. A low whine escapes your mouth when you feel a sting on your calf as you slide down the rest of the slope.

“Hey.” Billy is suddenly before you, you don't even know how he got here so fast. He pulls you up, holding your arms. You're laughing though, and the confused expression on his face doesn't help much. “You ok?”

“Yeah, I'm alright.” You look up, noticing how close Billy is. His blue eyes are like the ocean, beautiful, calming, and peaceful. Not the kind of eyes you'd expect from someone with the reputation he has. Clearing your throat, you step back, dusting off your clothes. “The squirrel won this round, I guess.” You can feel his stare as you look down.

“There's a cut on your calf.” He gets on one knee, taking your left leg by the ankle.

“What are you doing?” You mutter when you almost fall for the sudden loss of balance. You use Billy's shoulder to keep yourself steady. You feel his thumb on your skin, watching as he carefully removes the blood from the wound to take a better look.

“It's just a small cut. You'll survive.” He says as he stands up, those blue, piercing eyes on you again.

That was... Weird. To say the least. You just don't get why it made you so nervous. You really need some time away from Billy to think and think very carefully, to get things figured out. “We should get going or we'll get left behind.”

“As you wish.” He gestures for you to move, and that's what you do. But when you're about to climb up the slope, Billy comes to stay near you, a hand on your side when you use the fallen tree to pull yourself up. You just decided you don't like him touching you. If that's what makes you nervous, you have to avoid it.

But how are you supposed to be friends with someone you can't touch? Friends hug all the time... Damn it, why does it have to be so confusing? You blame Billy for this, even though this is not really his fault. Or is it?

“Hey. Monica told me something about a car accident. In senior year.” You decide to ask, and hopefully get a nice conversation that will keep you from getting nervous.

“Yeah. I was going on a date when... I hit a deer and crashed the car.” By how dark his voice gets, you can tell those aren't pleasant memories.

“Was it bad?” You move to walk closer to him as if it would offer any kind of comfort.

“Very.” He confirms. “If it wasn't for my dipshit sister and her stupid friends I'd be dead.” Despite the mean names, he flashes a small, quick smile. “Things changed from that day on. I couldn't hate her anymore.”

“And why did you hate her before?”

“Everyone says I'm an asshole but I was an even worse asshole before. But that day, it just... Clicked. After years of having me treating her like trash, she still went through a lot of trouble to save my life.” He lowers his voice, barely a whisper now. “And I'm not sure I was worth saving back then.”

It breaks your heart a little, to see how some of his walls just fell to the ground. You wonder if he told this to all the girls he has been with. “And when are you going to introduce me to your sister?” You try lighting up the mood a little, elbowing him.

“Are you inviting yourself to my place?” His smirk is back, but it doesn't bother you. You're actually happy the heaviness in his voice faded away.

“No.”

“You already have a place to be on your next day off.” He's clearly not asking.

“I'm not going to your place, Billy.” Despite being glad the atmosphere changed, you still have to set up some boundaries.

“I'll make Max stay home. I'll even let her invite the kiddos.”

Running a hand through your hair, you start playing with the tip of the braid. “Only if you order pizza.” You give him a quick look, admiring his smile. “But I'm paying this time.”

“No way.”

“Then I'm not going.”

“You're very stubborn.”

“That I am.” Smirking at him, you move to walk backwards, right before him. “I'll stop by your place to meet your savior sister and her savior friends and I'll pay for the pizza. Deal?”

“You should really watch where you're going.” The moment he's done speaking, your back hits a tree. Billy comes closer, standing there, way too close for your taste, looking down at you. It reminds you of when he kissed your cheek, the sudden proximity that made your stomach burn before the feeling his lips on your skin. “Deal.” He whispers, moving away.

Closing your eyes for a couple of seconds, you take the deepest breath you can, thankful that he moved away. He's doing that on purpose, you're so damn sure. Rolling your eyes, you set in motion, now listening to the low chattering of the group.

“Billy. Let me get some water.” You quicken your pace until you reach him, searching through his backpack until you find your bottle. It's still cold, thankfully. “Want some?” You watch as he shakes his head no before you drink. You take a few sips, closing your eyes at the good sensation of the fresh water in such a heat. Suddenly you feel the bottle being pushed up, and the water spills all over your mouth and nose, rolling down your chest. Opening your eyes abruptly, the first thing you see it's Billy's amused smile.

“You're such a-” You move forward, holding the bottle tightly as you throw some water on him. “-idiot!”

He bursts into a laugh as the fight begins. You're struggling to throw what's left of the water on his face as he tries to hold your arms. “You gave me no choice.” He mumbles under his heavy breath.

“Shut up,” you yell, your voice altered by the laughs. You're trying to set free from his grip, but he's stronger. You use your body weight to try and make him move backward, anything that could give you a chance. “Jerk!” As you speak he somehow manages to take the bottle from your hand, throwing the water on you. But you think fast, moving your body closer to his as you push his arm, so the water ends up falling on both of you.

“Hey, kids!” Jason shouts, and your head immediately turns at the source of his voice. You're both frozen now, as you notice the whole group stopped, looking at you. “Let's go!”

Clearing your throat, you struggle not to let your mind process the closeness. How you pushed yourself onto Billy, collapsing on his chest. “Let's go,” you tell him, stepping away. “Jerk,” you repeat, failing to hold back the smile.

@chloe-skywalker

#imagine billy #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #imagine billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy stranger things #stranger things imagine #imagine stranger things

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justthehiddleswrites · 3 years

Text

Rumour Has It | Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Summary: You are dating Tom Hiddleston but no one on set knows and you hope to keep it that way. When Tom’s big love scene comes up, your jealousy bubbles up and threatens to ruin the secret bliss you have created.

Warnings: jealousy, implied smut

“Someone will see us, Thomas.” you muttered as he pushed you against the door to his hotel room, his lips pressed against you.

“Let them see. I’m not ashamed of our relationship.” Tom pressed his hips into you. His hands raked down the sides of your body. “Unlike some people.”

You pushed Tom off of you and opened the door, slamming the door once you crossed the threshold.

You sighed. “It’s not shame and you know that. The rumour mill on set is bad enough under normal circumstances. I would rather not play out this relationship under the scrutiny of the cast and crew, thank you very much.” You slipped your shoes off and Tom did the same.

He sat on the edge of the bed to continue undressing. “You read too much into these things.” he smirked. “Everyone is too busy doing their job to pay attention.”

He beckoned you over as he tugged off his jeans. You slipped your panties off from under your dress and straddled his hips.

You cupped his face. “You are oblivious sometimes, aren’t you?” You kissed him, slipping your tongue into his mouth, hungry for more.

“I’m not oblivious to your effect on me.” Tom nipped at your neck.

You smirked as you wiggled in his lap. “And what effect is that?”

“Let me show you.” Tom pulled you tight against him.

You rode into the studio early that morning with Tom rather than waiting for your call time later in the day. Tom’s hand inched up your thigh in the back of the car.

“The driver will see.” you hissed, removing his hand, only for Tom to place it back on your knee immediately, squeezing.

“Frank is focused on the road.” Tom leaned over to nip behind your ear.

You shoved him back into his seat. “No!” you protested louder than you meant to.

“Everything alright back there, ma’am?” Frank called out, slowing down.

“Fine, Frank.” Tom responded. “She banged her knee against the console.”

You glared at Tom. “I’m about to bang something.” you whispered.

Tom leaned in close. “Save the dirty talk for later.” he teased.

You rolled your eyes before turning your attention to your phone for the rest of the ride. Once you arrived on set, Tom headed out to hair and makeup while you beelined for craft services. You skipped breakfast that morning for more “vigorous” activities.

“You’re here awfully early today.” a voice boomed behind you and you jumped, dropping your cup of tea.

You spun on your heels to punch Michael Sheen in the arm.

“Stop doing that! I dropped my tea.” You snatched a danish, reaching across Michael.

“If you’re so jumpy, perhaps more caffeine is not the answer.” Michael took a large bite of a cookie. “I would suggest decaf. And you still haven’t answer my question, why are you here?”

You took a long draw of coffee to avoid answer the question. Michael stared you down, tapping his foot in frustration.

“Can I help you?” you asked from behind your coffee mug and turned away from Michael to find a quiet place on set to watch Tom work.

“For heaven’s sake woman, it’s a simple question. It’s not like I’m accusing of having an illicit affair on set.” Michael blurted out.

You snorted coffee up your nose and started coughing, grateful you turned your back. Michael rushed to your side, pounded on your back.

“Breathe, darling. Breathe. So you have heard the rumours too?”

“I beg your pardon? What rumours?”

Michael grabbed you by the elbow and guided you behind a trailer. “There’s a bit of buzz of an on-set romance between our darling Thomas and someone.” he whispered conspiratorially.

You did your best to hide your shock. You did a poor job, but Michael took it as genuine surprise rather than embarrassment.

“Any idea who?” you choked out.

Michael glanced over his shoulder as though he was getting ready to spill State secrets, rather than flimsy gossip. “No idea. Which is why I would suggest keeping your eyes and ears open.”

A gaffer walked by and Michael leaned against the trailer looking like a cat who just ate the cream. He pointed his fingers at his eyes and then you as he strolled away.

“Eyes and ears open.” he hissed before ducking behind the trailer.

“Shit!” you muttered and stomped off to find Tom.

You never found Tom, chasing him throughout the production. By the time you caught up, he was prepping for a scene with the leading lady, Emma.

“What scene is this?” you asked a production assistant walking by. They shoved a script into your hand. You flipped to the tabbed page and read through the line.

“Fuck…”

“Precisely, my dear.” Michael sidled up to you again. “Do you think Mr. Hiddleston over there has a clause in his contracts, he must have a love scene in his films?”

You cleared your throat. “I wouldn’t know.”

“I know I would have a clause like that if I had an ass like that.” He sipped his tea.

“Michael!” You punched the man for the second time that day. Hardly a record for you.

“I’m just commenting. You can’t tell that is not a magnificent ass.” He grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you to the other side of the set before you could answer. “Let’s get a better view.”

Your stomach dropped as you saw Tom and Emma standing around in bathrobes. The director came to speak to the both of them and they nodded before slipping under the covers of the bed and handed their robes off. Tom whispered into Emma’s ear and she giggled. You seethed on the inside. Final light checks and the director strolled back to the camera.

“Action!”

Tom rolled on top of Emma and inhaled her before a moment before kissing her with a fervor. You overheard the smacking and dug your nails into the heels of your hands. Tom’s hips rolled underneath the covers and Emma moaned in response.

“I guess we know who the other half of the rumour is.” Michael hummed in your ear before sipping his tea.

You stormed off set leaving Michael in a daze. You ended up in Tom’s trailer, seething. You spied a picture of the two of you on a cork board by Tom’s bed. It was the two of you smiling out at a local pub. The entire cast and crew went out that night. And you and Tom stayed back after everyone else left. You sang off key karaoke and when Tom walked you back to your hotel room; he kissed you goodnight. The next morning you prepared yourself for him to shrugged it off as a drunken mistake when Tom showed up with coffee and croissants, but he asked you to dinner instead.

As tears fell onto your cheeks, the door opened to the trailer. Tom stepped in, back in his bathrobe. You wiped the tears from your face and put on a forced smile.

“Darling? Are you all right?” He grabbed your hands. “Michael said you stormed off set. You’re not sick are you?” His brow pinched in worry.

“Just a little sick to my stomach.” you snapped back.

“I’ll have someone bring you a ginger ale and some crac…” His voice trailed off as he caught your expression. “Oh. Are you mad about Emma?” He hooked his thumb towards the door.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Why would be mad at my boyfriend basically having sex with a gorgeous and talented actress?” You spat out the words like a foul taste in your mouth.

Tom smiled. “I didn’t hear you complaining last night.” His joke fell flat as you stared blankly back at him.

“Michael says there’s a rumour you are dating someone on set.”

“Well that’s more than a rumour and you know that.” He pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around your waist. You turned your head to avoid his kiss. “Are you jealous of Emma?” Tom smirked.

“No.” you lied.

“You are!” Tom’s eyes widened. “You’re jealous of Emma. It’s acting, darling. You should know that better than anyone, love scenes are part of this job. But it means nothing.”

Your lip trembled, and you sniffled. “It seems so real in the moment. The moans and the…” You broke down sobbing.

Tom hugged you tight against his chest. “Shhh, darling. You are the one I want to be with. And the rest is just bullshit and mirrors.” He cupped your face. “I love you.”

Tom leaned down and for a split second his mouth opened to inhale you before pressing his lips to yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and yanked you both down to the bed. Tom settled between your legs, hips pressed against you.

“That’s the first time you have said that.” you panted when the two of you broke contact.

“It is. But I meant every word. I love you. Do you feel the same?” Tom’s eyes glistened as he searched your face for a sign.

“I do.” Your fingers ran along his cheekbones. “I love you too.”

Tom smiled before kissing you again. His tongue slipping into your mouth and you did the same. Your hands ran along his back and tugged at the tie on the bathrobe.

“Thomas, have you seen—” Michael stopped in his tracks at the sight of you and Tom entangled on his bed. “I see that you have. This explains so much.” Michael rocked back on his heels.

Tom turned to stare at Michael. “Not a word.”

Michael gestured, zipping his lips. “Not a peep.”

You sat up. “I mean it, Sheen. If I get wind of a single rumour. I’m coming for you.”

Michael nodded. “I am the soul of discretion.” He thumbed at the door. “I’ll see myself out.”

Once the door latched shut, you and Tom glanced and each other before bursting into laughter.

He pecked your lips before kissing your nose and then forehead. “I need to get back on set. Are we good?”

You nodded. “Yes. I need to get to hair and makeup myself.”

“You are beautiful without it.” Tom smiled back.

“Thank you. And I need to put the fear of God into Mr. Sheen.”

Tom lifted himself off of you, tightening his robe. “An excellent plan. That man is the worst gossip.”

You giggled and kissed Tom one more time. “Meet me here after work?” You teased his chest through the top of the robe.

Tom tugged at the bottom of your shirt. “Do you have any plans?” His lips twitched at the corners into a smile.

“Bring your script. You definitely need more rehearsal time for that love scene.”

“I’m willing to put in the hours if you are.” he teased.

“Well, it’s for the film.”

“Ever the professional.” Tom smirked before kissing you as you walked out the door to hunt down Michael.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston imagine

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toosicktoocare · 4 years

Text

No one asked for this... I just still have BatFam on the mind.

Jason’s perched on the ledge of a roof, weight shifting between the balls of his feet, eager to bring some sense of warmth back to his limbs. He scans the dark alleyway below him, finding it understandably empty considering the single-digit temperature with the aggressive wind chill that’s practically seeping through his thick suit.

“Remind me again,” he starts, dragging his eyes across dark shadows until they fall on Dick, who’s corner covered and peeping around a grimy brick wall, “what we’re looking for? In the middle of January? When it’s cold as fuck?”

“I don’t know,” Dick’s voice crackles in his ear, hoarse, thick, a few notes lower than normal. “Suspicious activity?” Dick’s words end with a few coughs, and Jason sighs, watching as Dick muffles the coughs into the crook of his arm.

“Suspicious activity from a sketchy tip,” Jason reminds him. “A tip that’s probably not even valid. My guess is some boomer bumped into a few drunks on her way out of a convenience store.” He stands when his calf muscles begin to burn, and he shakes out his legs a few times, mindful of his balance, before dropping back down into a crouch and casting the barrel of his gun down the alleyway behind Dick.

“The message said area g-gang violence.” Dick coughs again, harder this time, and Jason swallows back a wince.

“Anything in Gotham can be perceived as area gang violence,” Jason mutters flatly when Dick sucks in a shuddering breath. “You good, golden boy?”

“Aw, Jay, are you worried about me?”

Jason groans deep in his throat. “Not a chance, Dickie Bird. I’m just trying to figure out who took your one remaining brain cell. Surely you’ve realized that you’re too sick to be out playing superhero right now.”

“B would kill me if he found out I had information on a potential gang and didn’t follow through with an investigation.” Dick’s voice comes out in small, shuddering gasps, and he groans lowly into the comm before falling into a sneezing fit that leaves Jason sighing pointedly.

“And you don’t think he’d kill you harder if he finds out you’re risking your precious health?” He cocks his head to the side when Dick briefly whips his gaze up to him, and he can imagine Dick’s eye roll based on the huff that echoes in his ear.

“How would he kill me harder if I’m already dead?”

There’s a flick of movement in Jason’s peripherals, and he whips his gaze and gun to the left just in time to see a shadow passing under a street light. He starts toward it, careful, gun steady in his hands.

“You could try the whole coming back from the dead thing. I could give you some pointers.” His tone is flat, and Dick sighs into the comm.

“Jay...”

“Save it, Wing,” Jason mutters, barrel of the gun following a line of four men stumbling into the alleyway. “I think I found your area gang.” He’s got a clear shot on the leader, one rubber bullet to the knee and he’d be down for weeks, if not longer.

“Don’t,” Dick growls into his ear, and Jason’s shoulders tighten as he whips a frown toward Dick, who’s already moving toward the four men.

“Rubber bullets can still kill from that height.”

“Careful, Wing,” Jason starts, still following each movement easily with the tip of his gun. “You’re starting to sound like him.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Jason laughs, a sly smile playing at his lips. “There’s my little rebel bird.”

“Okay, A) I’m older than you,” Dick starts around a few wet coughs, “and B) just no.”

Jason laughs louder, promptly distracting the four men, who all jump and turn to squint up at the rooftops.

“Is that the Red Hood?”

Jason offers a wave, fingers waggling. “You got this, Wing?”

“Yeah,” Dick says, coughing harshly, and Jason frowns deeper.

“Are you sure? You kinda sound like you’re dying.”

“Shut up, Hood.”

Jason’s not sure if it’s just because Dick is clearly sick, way too sick to be out playing superhero, but he finds he’s drawn to this level of aggravated sass. Or maybe, he considers, that he’s just finally rubbing off on Dick.

He watches as Dick approaches the crew, arms outstretched, a visible sign of peace, but Jason knows this type well, and Dick only gets about two sentences out before one of the very clear drunks swings at him.

Dick dodges it with practiced ease, and Jason keeps his hand steady on his gun in the minutes that follow, only easing up when Dick’s standing before four unconscious men and phoning Gotham PD.

“I hate to say it, but nicely done, Wing.” Jason stands from his crouch, hissing sharply at the wind that whips against him. Dick’s following silence has Jason frowning, and he looks down to see Dick swaying slightly.

“Wing? You good?”

When Dick still doesn’t reply, Jason’s unnerved enough to leap off the roof, landing just in time to catch Dick when his knees buckle and give out.

“Shit! Dick?” Even through the suit, Jason can feel a worrying heat pouring off Dick in loud waves. On instinct, he begins smoothing his palms down Dick’s back and sides. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” Dick grumbles into Jason’s neck, coughing weakly. “Just feel like shit.”

“Clearly,” Jason mutters, shoving Dick back until he’s leaning against the cold brick wall.

Dick instantly hugs himself tightly at the sudden absence of brief warmth, and Jason takes the time that Dick’s able to mostly stand on his own to bite his glove off and slap a palm to Dick’s forehead, finding it unsurprisingly hot and damp to the touch.

“You’re burning up,” he mutters, and Dick shivers hard before him with a groan that falls into a few coughs.

“Weird because I’m freezing.”

“You are such an idiot,” Jason drags out, pulling Dick from the wall and snaking an arm around his waist to keep him upright. “How’d you get here?”

“Grapple hook?” Dick drops his too-hot forehead to Jason’s neck.

“Christ,” Jason mutters, patting his pocket with his free hand for his bike keys. His apartment is a lot closer than the manor, especially if he’s going to have to figure out how to get Dick on his bike without toppling off.

Dick coughs against him, hard, repeated, until he’s gasping for breath and shaking hard at his side.

“Do you need a hospital?”

“Ugh, please no.”

“Great,” Jason says. “We’re going back to mine then. Try to stay awake.”

***

By the time Jason gets Dick into his apartment, Dick’s shivering consistently, and he hasn’t stopped coughing since he got onto the bike minutes before. Jason moves fast, uneasiness threatening to succumb him. He helps Dick change, gets him pumped full of medicine, and when he finally gets Dick into bed, he’s promptly exhausted and falls face first onto the empty side, still in his suit but mask thrown across the floor.

“Jay? You okay?”

Jason laughs lowly into the pillow before he twists his neck until he’s facing Dick. “You would be the one to ask me that when you’re dying.”

“I’m not dying,” Dick stresses, coughing harshly into his fist. “But I kinda feel like it. I thought it was just a cold.”

Jason sits up, smooths one palm across Dick’s forehead as if his temperature would have gone down by now. “Probably was until you decided to run around in the deadass middle of winter.”

Dick groans, dragging an arm over his eyes. “Sorry for wasting your time tonight. And contaminating your bed.”

Jason slips off the bed, patting Dick’s covered leg. “It’s fine. I hate these sheets anyway. Now shut up and sleep.”

Dick nods off mere moments later, a small smile on his lips, and Jason grabs some clean clothes and moves to the bathroom, typing out a text on his way.

To Timmers: D’s sick. Took him back to mine. Can you send a car or someone to get him when you’re done with the charity event?

He’s out of suit and slipping into a fleece hoodie when his phone chimes.

From Timmers: Sure. Is he okay?

To Timmers: Yeah, just Gotham’s second biggest idiot.

From Timmers: Do I even need to ask who the first is?

To Timmers: ;)

***

Jason’s nodding off on the couch when he hears a knock on the door. It startles him enough to leave him cursing under his breath as he shuffles to the door, on edge but still too tired to grab a weapon, a habit he can’t quite break.

He undos the locks and pulls the door open, and any trace of lingering sleep is shoved away in an instant.

“Jason...”

“Bruce,” Jason bites out.

Bruce is standing before him, dressed in a sleek black suit and matching thick coat. He looks worried, and Jason kind of wants to slam the door in his face and just deal with Dick himself.

“I texted Tim.”

“And he informed me that you did. How’s Dick?”

“Alive,” Jason spits out, and Bruce winces visibly before his eyes go soft, somber.

“May I come in?”

Jason wordlessly moves to the side, and Bruce steps in, mindful, quiet, only walking further when Jason points to the bedroom. He follows Bruce to the bedroom, slipping in but staying close to the wall when Bruce drops to the edge of the bed and smooths a careful palm over Dick’s forehead.

Dick stirs under his touch, blinking slowly, damp brow furrowed.

“B?” He croaks out, swallowing back a few coughs.

“Chum,” Bruce says, concern laced heavily in his tone. “You weren’t nearly this bad when we left. What happened?”

“Got a message about a gang,” Dick mutters, wincing at the sharp look Bruce shoots him. “Got it handled. Jay came to cover me.”

Bruce only sighs, smoothing a few damp strands of hair from Dick’s too-warm face. “Well, I’m glad you were diligent in your work, but I do wish you would have waited until you were feeling better. Are you ready to go?”

Dick nods and struggles to sit up, coughing harshly when he swings his legs over the bed. He staggers, and both Bruce and Jason reach out to him, but Jason drops his arms and moves back when Dick steadies himself with a hand to the wall.

“I’m fine.” He manages out in between coughs, yet he’s already shivering and he’s gone far too pale.

Bruce slips out of his coat and drapes it over Dick’s shoulders before snaking an arm around him, pulling him in close.

They start out the room, with Jason following quietly behind, unsure of what to do and not trusting what will come out of his mouth. He stops when Dick suddenly spins around, smiling at him.

“Thanks for the everything, Jay. I’ll get you some new sheets.”

Jason laughs quietly. “Yeah, okay, Dickie Bird. Just get better first.”

“Aw, Jay you are worried about me.”

“No,” Jason spits out flatly, ushering both to the door. “Fuck off.” He slams it to the sound of Dick’s painful mixture of laughing and coughing.

#batman #batfam #batbros #sickfic #whump #whumpfic #dick grayson #jason todd #bruce wayne #nightwing #red hood #dc #dcu #my writing #my batfam writing #hurt/comfort

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writingtoforgetreality · 4 years

Text

“Who is she?” (Alexander Calvert x Reader)

Request: I would like to ask for something where Alex and the reader are dating and the two are part of the Supernatural cast, and they fake a fight in front of Jensen, Jared and Misha, but it ends in a cute moment. That's it lol. (by anonymous), [Actors-Masterlist]

Summary: You could not find the script you needed for an important upcoming audition. Still, you had to start practicing or you would not perform well. Luckily, Alex was always there to help you with your lines. But what would happen if things got out of hand?

Words: 1,937

Warnings: language, mentions of cheating, argument, protective!Jensen, fluff, (Y/E/C) = your eye color

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

“Alex?” you were currently in your shared apartment in Vancouver. Searching for a very important script, you slowly started to go insane. You could have sworn you put it right on top of the coffee table. Why was it not there anymore? Maybe Alex had seen it.

“Yeah?” his scruffy voice made you look up. He came straight out of the shower, only a towel hanging low on his waist. On every other day, this sight would have been an invitation for you but you had to find this damn script.

“Have you seen my script? I put it right there.” you pointed to the place where you last saw it.

“Um, I don´t know...Are you sure you left it there?” Alex got closer to you and started helping you. First the living room, then the kitchen. Soon after, it felt like you searched through your entire apartment, without luck.

“(Y/N), it´s time to head out. We´ll be late.” he disappeared in the bedroom and came out seconds later in a black hoodie and gray sweatpants. Why bother wearing anything else when you had to change as soon as you were on set?

“Ugh, okay. I´m coming.” it did not make sense to you. You needed that script. There was a very important audition coming up. A big movie with TOM CRUISE. Yes, you heard that right. An action film where you would portray his love interest. This would be your chance to really start at Hollywood. Your role in Supernatural was the first start and the fans loved you a lot. Just like Alex, you came around for the 13th season. At first, you were only meant to stick around for a few episodes. Just some girl who was saved by Jack and brought back to the bunker. The fans seemed to like you and they almost immediately caught up on the chemistry Alex and you shared. When you started dating, the writers decided to make your character Jack´s love interest. Now, the last few episodes were about to air and you still had not found your next job.

Of course you worked on it to change that. Supernatural was your first acting job, you were not the most famous in this industry. Jared had already found his next role: Texas Ranger. Jensen will be a part of the third season of The Boys. You were incredibly happy for them but it also scared the shit out of you. If it took them this long to be cast in another project, how long would it take you? That was something you should not be thinking about during your ride to the set of Supernatural. You should start preparing for the upcoming scenes.

The first half of the day was very productive. Ever since the thought of shooting the LAST episodes has sunken in, the crew really wanted to bring the best out of every scene. Still, Jensen, Jared and Misha loved to mess with Alex and you. There had to be enough scenes for the gag reel, right?

As the director called for lunch break, all of you made your way over to the catering area. You were not hungry, thoughts still with your lost script. Maybe you should just give them a call to let them know that you needed another script. No, that would not leave a good impression.

“When do we continue filming today?” Jensen asked.

“Uhhh, around 3 pm, I think?” Jared´s answer was not really helpful. Most days he had no idea about your schedule. One of the reasons that made you love him even more.

“For once you´re right.” Misha threw in.

Everyone headed back to their trailers, wanting to prepare for the next few scenes and relax a bit.

“Can you practice with me?” you asked Alex as you were walking towards your trailers. You did not share those because they were very small to begin with.

“Practice what? We rehearsed our shared scenes, like, a hundred times last night.” he chuckled, amused by your uncertainty. He knew how you barely ever forgot your lines or broke character yet you still wanted to keep on running through your lines.

“Nooo, I mean for the audition. It´s next week and if I don´t start going through it now I´ll be even more nervous.” you came to a halt, waiting for his reaction.

“I thought you lost the script?” Alex turned around to look at you.

“Misplaced. Anyway, I know the story more or less. We could just improvise. Please?” your big (Y/E/C) looked at him in a way you knew he could never resist.

“In my trailer or-”

“Actually, I think right here, outside, would be perfectly fine.” your smile grew. You loved acting alongside Alex. This role was not meant to be his but he was always happy to help you with auditions. You did the same for him. Recalling what was written on the script, you tried your best to explain the story to him. It was easy, really, your character found emails from another woman, arranging meetings that go way back, like seven months. The scene you had to prepare for the audition was you confronting “Tom Cruise” which ended in a big fight.

“Got it?” you watched Alex´ face closely, looking for any misunderstandings. A nod from his head made you get into character.

“Hey, honey, I´m home.” your back faced Alex, your body language seemingly tense. He moved closer to you as you did not answer him. A hand was held out to touch your shoulder but as soon as it came in contact with you, you brushed it off angrily. Turning around with tears in your eyes, Alex was impressed by how fast you could make this role alive, without even saying a word. You truly were magnificent.

“DO NOT call me honey!” you managed to keep the tears at bay, thinking it would be better to let them spill a bit later.

“What´s wrong?” Alex gave you space, getting the sign of you not wanting to be touched by him.

“Oh, so you don´t have anything to tell me?” your arms crossed in front of your chest, your eyebrows raising, waiting for him to answer you.

“Um, I´m not su-”

“BULLSHIT! Bullshit.” the second part was barely above a whisper, showing that, despite everything you saw, you still cared for him. Loved him, even. Alex just stood there, knowing what your next words would be like.

“How long has this been going on?” your gaze was focused on the floor, not wanting him to see your tears that now started spilling.

“She doesn´t mean anything to me. You are the on-” but once again, Alex was cut off by your screaming.

“Did you fuck her?” your voice was small, not wanting to ask this question but desperate for the answer.

“Sweetheart, I-”

“DID YOU FUCK HER?” this time you screamed at his face. Your emotions were all over the place.

What neither Alex nor you noticed was Jensen, Jared and Misha storming out of their trailers due to hearing screams. When they saw the scene in front of them, they came to a fast stop. Did they just hear that Alex had cheated on their (Y/N)? Someone who was like a little sister to them? Jensen made himself ready to storm to you, wanting nothing more than to punch Alex. Jared and Misha, though, held him back.

“Yes.” Alex sighed. “But it´s not like she means anything to me.” he once again came closer to you. This time you did not protest. You were too exhausted to react to it.

“Who is she?” scared of what the answer would be, you took a step back but looked straight into his eyes.

“Cassie.” you read Alex´ face as regret but as soon as you heard him say the name you could have thrown up.

“CASSIE?! MY BEST FRIEND CASSIE?!” you lunged towards him and started punching his chest, too weak to do any damage, but you were angry and did not know what else to do.

That was too much for Jensen. He ripped himself free and ran towards you, Jared and Misha following close behind. A shove from the side made Alex and you separate. Suddenly you were pulled back by two strong arms. As you looked behind, you saw Jared holding you close to him. As you focused your gaze back to Alex, you were shocked to see him in Jensen´s grasp. You did not quite understand what Jensen was saying but it did not sound good at all.

“Jensen, stop!” you wiggled yourself out of Jared´s arms and ran to save Alex. You tried pulling Jensen away but he was too strong. Even Alex could not free himself.

“IT WAS JUST ACTING!” your scream erupted which made Jensen stop in his tracks. Slowly, he let go of Alex who coughed a few times.

“What?!” the confusion was written all over Jensen´s face.

“Alex and I were just practicing for my audition next week. You know, the one with Tom Cruise? I told you about that.” your heart was racing, your breathing too fast. Jared and Misha were already at Alex´ side, making sure he was not hurt.

“Shit, I´m sorry. Alex, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, all good.” he waved it off as if it was nothing. Typical Alex, you thought.

Suddenly you started laughing, replaying the scene in your head. Everyone looked at you weirdly but copied your actions soon after.

“Alex, he almost killed you.” by now tears were streaming down your face because you were laughing so hard.

“Hey, I didn´t even touch him.” Jensen complained.

“Oh yeah? Tell that my throat.” Alex stated sarcastically.

“That was acting?” Jared asked to which Alex and you only nodded.

“If you don´t get the job I´ll make sure to sue them, just so you know.” this time it was Misha who spoke up. This only made all of you laugh even more.

“Everyone back on set, please!” you could hear the director yell. Jared, Misha and you walked over, chatting and laughing about everything that just happened. Alex and Jensen, though, were a bit behind.

“Sorry again, kid. I really thought y´all were fighting. It sounded so real. You sure you´re okay?” he finished his sentence with a light chuckle, still somewhat ashamed of throwing himself at Alex like that.

“I´m fine, Jensen, really.” Alex laughed lightly. “Besides, now I know what happens if I ever hurt (Y/N) in any way.”

“You better take care of her and treat her like a princess. I´m serious.” Jensen had a stern look on his face but smiled anyway. You meant a lot to him and he could not bare the thought of anyone hurting you.

“I will. I promise.”

“Y´all coming or what?” you screamed at them from the other end of the set, waiting for the two of them so you could finally continue filming.

“On our way.” Alex said back, beginning to walk towards where you were standing. As he kept walking he thought about you again. How it was so easy for you to act out such a hard scene. Your talent amazed him. He really hoped you would land that role. From what he had seen so far, you were perfect for it. God, he loved you. It still had not sunken in that you were his. What did he ever do to deserve you? He knew he could not live without you and he would keep on reminding you of his love for you every single day.

Published (09/10/2020) by Cathy

Tags: @kalasyrtiaan, @blairrrose (thanks for your support <3)

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huntective-kyeo · 3 years

Text

❗Warning❗ TYPOS, SPELLING, AND GRAMMAR. And English is not my first language. Kinda angry hehehe

This is my first time to post it here and I hope you like it. Feel free to criticize my writing so I can improve.

So enjoy.

FIRST FANFIC

My Father is Dean Winchester

Dean POV

I sat down on the chair and open the lid of the beer. It's been hectic two weeks. Sam and I hunt a witch in Colorado and it took us a week to find the witch and killed it. That witch got Sam to bruise his ankle, and a concussion but thankfully nothing major injuries that needed stitches and so. Most of all the sonavabitch wore witch almost touch and probably hex my Baby which I did make her pay for it.

All in all, it took us a few days to get back at the bunker and now I'm sitting on the chair, probably wanted to eat some pies and get drunk.

My thoughts interrupt when the door opened and I looked up wonder who that person is. My instinct is to grab my trustful gun and aim it towards that intruder. However instead of getting alert, and hunting instinct it exactly quite opposite to what I feel right now.

Third POV.

A girl took a deep breath and with her shaky hand, she holds the handle and she pauses before she opened the door.

She didn't know what to do or what to say. She felt nervous to face them all. She wants to keep it secret however it keeps harder and harder to hide all the symptoms she felt during the last few months.

with heavy heart and soul, she opened the door and wish that bunker is well as empty as when she leaves it a few hours ago.

She didn't notice that the Impala, her first love park on her usual spot, she didn't notice a man sit on the chair seem like thinking something, she didn't notice her dad.

Dean POV

" y/n? " I blurted out. I didn't notice that my daughter y/n leave the bunker without telling us, or wasn't I?

Y/n my precious daughter, my little sunshine, and the only reason aside from my little brother who keeps me alive. 16 years ago Her mother and I met at the bar and happened to have one night stand. I was drunk to forget us condoms. I didn't realize it until, nine months later, Kylia found me and she shove the newly baby born into arms. I didn't hear her rants about not wanting kids because I was so fallen to my baby girl. I swear y/n is the most beautiful baby girl that I've ever seen. From that fateful night, I swore that I protect and love her no matter what.

With the help of my brother and my family, we did a good job raising a finest and yet mini-me y/n which kinda bit frustrated when she becomes a rebellious teenager and seeking for a new way to hunt.

I know that being a father and hunter ain't hood to raise a child in a world full of darkness but I did try my best to become a father that she deserved and not the father that I used to grow up

I again clear up my throat and by the time that I saw her, I know something is terrible up. Called it father instinct. My stomach began to feel something that I don't know if it's about the food or the worriedness about my daughter.

"Where have you been, I told you not to go outside not unless if you needed something but should-" I stumble and am shocked by a sudden hug coming from my daughter. My eyebrows meet and speculate more thoughts about what happened to her during a few weeks.

Then suddenly y/n cried up and my heart broke up thousand of pieces. Through I used to her cry of nonsense but this is different. I can feel it.

I began to think of a different reason why she cried like this. Is she on her period? Did a boy break her heart? If it is, then who? Oh god, my baby girl is heartbroken?! No-no-no.

" Hey, baby girl what's wrong? " I managed to ask a few words as I stroke her hair.

I didn't get her reply as she continues sobbing and sniffing on my chest. I continuously stroke her hair and rubbed a small circle on her back. With her tears I heard, I began to tear up which probably I got hurt when my baby girl gets hurt.

I saw Sam holding a can and some books and gave me confused look. I know he was confused about what is going on and the same as me. I only gave her shrug off before concentrate on keeping her calm down.

I sigh and sing a song that makes her calm down. It's a song that I always sing to her whenever she feels scared and upset. it her lullaby and till now I always sing to her when she felt like this. And now even though she's growing up ain't stopping this.

'Hey Jude, don't make it bad

Take a sad song and make it better

Remember to let her into your heart

Then you can start to make it better'

I sang softly and smile. I heard her sobs subside and her shoulder is no longer tensed. I kissed her head and quietly sing the rest of the song

By the song ends, y/n look up to me and hate to see her red-rimmed eyes and red nose face at me.

" Daddy... "

Y/n POV

After the song finish, I felt quite comfortable and my heart no longer pains me.

" daddy" I called up again. I hate seeing my dad worried glances and I wanted to back down but I know it's too late, now that I cried to his chest, and makes my father worried.

" what's wrong, princess " I nearly chuckle to hear the old nickname that I used to love but hate now. I should give my father annoying and death glares to him but I'm drained and tired to argue with my father.

Instead of the reply to his question, I took a piece of paper inside my leather jacket. With my shaky hand, I hesitate to give it to him. I saw my father unfold the paper and read it.

I know he reads it as I saw his face turn to a worried and horrifying face. I bit my lip as teardrops start to stream to his face and suddenly it aches my heart.

I didn't realize that my uncle Sam was there and he took the paper that my dad read it. My dad was frozen and saw Sam has the same reaction but he stumbled a bit and luckily sat on the chair or else he would hurt more.

The air was tense and several minutes seemed like a century to me as I was forced to see my dad and uncle of their horrifying reaction.

I was about to leave them and lock them up in my room but my dad grabs my wrist and put pressure on it, so I couldn't shove it off, I hesitate to look at his now red-rimmed eyes just like mine.

" Is this true? "

My heart broke as I nod

" when... When did it start? "

I flinched to hear a tone when my dad wanted a straight answer but I could see the difference of it. Instead of deadly and threatened, it's a broken and saddened tone that probably haunt me the rest of my life.

" honey, when did start... " I look up to him as a surprise to hear the familiar fatherly sweet tone that only me can know.

"a few months ago. When you just back from purgatory dad... " I mumble but I know that dad heard it because he mumbles coherent words that I know he's cursing, I wish it's not from me.

Then suddenly my dad sat down on the chair and then he hugged tightly couldn't breathe but slightly loose the tightness but still hugging me

" We can pull this up alright, we will. N/n we will fight this together okay, we'll find ways to rid this shit. We will be on your battle. " I then look up at my father and saw the tense and urging look " we will fight this out but you'll do your job ok, you'll kick this shit out, and keep fighting. Don't give up okay please, little n/n. " I heard him crack as didn't say anything considering, I was crying again and the inky response I can get is nodding.

Then I hug my father again and I feel another wrapped strong arms. I smile softly that uncle Sam joined the party. Now we are Complete, I feel like I'm ready to fight this shut out.

" Winchester is hard to kill, not even cancer. " I chuckle to hear uncle Sammy spoke.

"Yeah right, so you gonna do your part little princess, aright. Don't give up. " My father kiss my forehead. We parted away and wipes the tears we have. We laugh as we sniffle then finally our tears died down.

My father, Dean wipe the remaining tears and I look up to him confused. I saw him sad and regret my eyes and my heart sank.

" I love you N/Niepie, " then he kisses my forehead.

----AND CUT!!! ---

" Nice work J2 and Jodi damn there are no dried tears here " Robert yelled as all the staff and crew wipe their tears. " okay thirty minutes break, Jared, come to me I gotta asked you something" he added.

A group of assistants swarms the actors and did their task. Some wipe their sweats, do makeup, fixing their hair, and so on.

Jensen chuckles a little bit and wipes the remaining tears from his eyes.

" nice job dude, seem like the Days of our Lives gig paid off huh" A sixteen years old, young actress Jodi Smith tease him.

He rolled his eyes and ruffle her hair. " nice try but no you not riding my Baby" Jodi groan and about to reply when her assistant came and whisper to her ear "You're lucky, Mr. Ackles. Robert needs me now but I won't stop bothering you not until I sat on the driver seat and ride the impala".

When Jodi is out of sight, Jensen Ackles began to walk through his trailer. The thirty minutes of break is not enough of yearning for his daughter.

By the time he got inside. He locks it and sits on the couch. He rubbed his tired face as he grabs the old filthy Cinderella wallet. Today scene was emotional to him, not because of the scene itself but because he truly did miss his daughter y/n

In the finale of season 12, alongside Jack Kline played Alexander Calvert, and y/n Winchester played Jodi Smith we're both introduced and a new cast of Supernatural. Jensen was supposed to be glad that there are two new members of their family, but instead, it replaces guilt and dreadful feelings.

It's not the new cast members but the fact that Jodi Smith portrays is seem a great punch to his heart that he starts to realize he still has a daughter that should be taken care of.

No one knows not even Jared. Danneel and the kids, the crew nor the fans knew that the great Jensen Ackles has a secret daughter and only his close family knew about this truth.

" I'm sorry princess, How I wish I was there for you but you know I can't."

Jensen stroke a faded picture of an eight-year-old girl holding a doll whilst hugging the twenty-year-old Jensen Ackles.

" I'm sorry, I love you" he kisses the picture with so much love and tears began to stream down his cheeks

Hope you like it keep safe everyone. Reblog and like will yah.

#winchester x daughter reader #supernatural #jensen x daughter reader #jensen ackles #x daughter reader #dean x Reader #dean x daughter reader

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sailtoafarawayland · 3 years

Text

Oh, Captain!

Summary - Emma think’s she’s hurt Killian and deals with the consequences, saving him from himself just might be the one she didn’t see coming.

Rated for all, no warnings.

Tumblr Exclusive for now- will be posted over at AO3 and FF (Farawayland) when life allows. I just needed to write some happy what with all this not happy I’m watching on the news. Most likely a one-shot.

Chapter 1

Emma’s heart was in her throat.

He knew.

He knew, and she hadn’t even been the one to tell him.

“Don’t!” she pleaded, catching up to him and snatching at his sleeve, her fingers seizing the thin, black fabric and wrapping around his forearm. “Killian, please…”

The warmth of her hand, the chill of her fingertips—they were always so cold, despite his many attempts to warm them—stopped him in his tracks, the tension between them slackening as he allowed himself to be swayed back toward her, but she held on tightly, too afraid to let him go.

Afraid of what he would do.

“Am I supposed to simply let it go, Emma?”

She could hear the outrage, low and dangerous, in his voice—and it hurt, because she knew it was her fault.

“Belle shouldn’t have said anything—I told her not to, that I would handle it. I just wanted to wait until after tonight. I was afraid if you knew he’d kissed—”

“He kissed you?” Killian growled, his features darkening as he yanked his arm from her grasp, the prop hook clattering to the floor between them as he stormed toward center stage where Neal was mid-scene with Tinkerbell.

“Shit,” Emma groaned.

Belle probably hadn’t mentioned that, had probably only implied she’d seen Neal hitting on her and refusing to take no for an answer, but had left out the part where he’d tried to steal a kiss.

Emma didn’t know why she had so much trouble with words—why the things in her head couldn’t just exit her mouth in the right way, or at least in a way that didn’t always make things worse. It should have been so easy to explain—that the minute Neal leaned in, she’d shoved him halfway across the library, and if that hadn’t left an impression, she had a right hook ready. That in that moment, she’d been so sorry that she’d insisted on keeping her relationship with Killian a secret. That she wanted nothing more than to have been sitting there with his hand wrapped in hers, for everyone to see—no one else trying to take what wasn’t theirs.

Emma wavered where she stood, not sure how to process the shit show everything had become in such a small space of time. Killian was seething, his black leather coat flaring behind him as he stalked across the stage—much to the surprise of the cast performing. Ashley stumbled over her line and twisted her hands in the lime green tutu she wore as Killian reached them, his long fingers wrapping around Neal’s shoulder and jerking him into an about-face.

The gasps of confusion from the opposite wing were audible as everyone tried to figure out why Killian was on stage when he shouldn’t be, and the murmurs from the audience were no better. She was sure they were all wondering why Captain Hook was confronting Peter Pan out of nowhere. Time slowed as she watched Neal’s features twist from surprised to nervous, her eyes snapping down to Killian’s hand as he clenched it into a tight fist. She couldn’t take her eyes off the chunky, heavy jewelry from the prop department adorning his knuckles.

Props that she knew he was about to drive into Neal Cassidy’s face.

Principal Gold’s son.

The man who always had it out for Killian.

“Shit.”

Her boyfriend was about to get expelled, and it was all her fault. She should have told him earlier, but she couldn’t fix that now. She had to do something—anything—now.

Trying not to think about how far from normal this opening night was turning out to be, or how Wendy had no place in this scene, she rushed after him, doing the only thing she could think of to keep him from getting thrown out of his senior year.

“Oh, Captain!” she cried, feigning exhaustion and leaning heavily against the backdrop of painted, wooden jungle. She paused for a moment, catching her breath and glancing warily behind her, as if she were afraid at any minute something dangerous was going to pounce from the bushes.

Three sets of eyes from center stage turned to her, along with every head in the packed auditorium.

She caught her breath and tidied the blue bow perched on top of her perfect curls. “You found me! I thought I would be trapped here forever—”

Killian’s grip was still white-knuckled on Neal, who was starting to squirm uncomfortably, and Ashley looked like she wished she could actually turn into a ball of light and fly away, but she could see the curious sparkle in Killian’s eye beneath a cheekily arched brow, and it gave her the bravado she needed to keep going. She had no idea where this scene was headed with her at the helm, but it didn’t really matter.

Saving the play wasn’t the point.

Saving Killian was—the rest would just be a bonus if she could pull it off, so she continued.

“—stuck caring for Pan’s lost boys, washing their socks, cooking their meals, and do I ever get a thank you, Wendy—what delicious coconut salad, Wendy? No, never!” Righteous indignation flooded her face and she straightened her dress brusquely, angling toward the audience as she arched an eyebrow and rested her hands on her hips. “And let me tell you, not a single washing machine or microwave on the whole island.”

Not waiting for the reaction, but smiling inwardly as the wave of laughter rippled through the crowd, she turned her attention back to the strange trio that was a squeamish looking Peter Pan, a very nervous fairy, and an inscrutable Captain Hook. Relief washed over her as she saw Killian’s face losing that dark edge as she approached, her breath catching in her throat as they locked eyes. It may have been a cliché, but he’d always been able to do that to her, to just steal her breath away. It didn’t help that he looked sinful as anything in that pirate get-up. She thanked her lucky stars that he’d tossed that ridiculous wig and hat in the trash and decided to give Captain Hook his own spin.

He met her halfway between the wing and centerstage, letting go of Neal’s arm without a backward glance. To her surprise, the spotlight followed him, bathing them both in its glare as they came together. Her hand brushed along the rough stubble of his jaw before settling on the back of his neck, his arms circling her, and though he was dressed as a pirate, the possessive squeeze of his hand at her waist was all him.

There was anger and regret simmering, she could see it in the way he held his jaw, but there was also happiness, and laughter, and something more in the warmth of his eyes—something she would catch glimpses of sometimes when he thought she wasn’t paying attention, but she knew what it was, and that he held back for her—because she’d been so insistent about keeping everything between them a secret, because for some reason she was terrified if she admitted what she felt, and what she wanted, that she would lose it. It was a silly thing, and now it had hurt them.

“I never thought I’d fall in love with a pirate—” and it was not how she thought she’d tell him she loved him, so it was probably good that technically it was Wendy telling Captain Hook—“but you see me when no one else really does—made me realize that I have dreams, Captain. I can do anything I set my mind to. I can be anything—a lawyer, a sheriff, a high-end fashion designer specializing in faux-crocodile-vegan-leather accessories…”

She had no idea where that came from, but the raucous laughter from the audience made her feel a little better—at least they were having a good night. Then her gaze slipped to the side and she finally saw all of the horrified faces of the cast and crew watching the debacle from backstage. Well, maybe there was no way she was going to save the show, but even if Gold let loose, he couldn’t put the blame solely on Killian now. She was in the thick of it too, and she doubted he’d go so far as to expel Sheriff Nolan’s daughter.

“I’ve yet to see you fail, Wendy,” Killian asserted, and though the name was wrong and he was projecting enough to reach the back of the auditorium, she knew the words were meant for her, because he’d always believed in her, always believed in them.

She hated that she had been so afraid of what this could be, that she hid it away, worried if she put her heart out there, it would all fall apart.

“While I used to think that catching that crocodile was my happy ending,” Killian continued, grinding his jaw at the thought of the sneaky reptile, “I know now that it’s you, it’s always been you, so tell me, love,” and he dipped his lips closer to hers, teasing a kiss before turning his gaze on the audience, a rakish grin spreading across his face as he gestured broadly over the crowd, “will you sail away with me?”

“Always,” she breathed, “to the end of the world, and time!”

There was a roar of noise from the audience—laughter, clapping, whooping, whistling—and while she had no idea where the words had come from, what came next, well, that was no mystery. She grabbed her pirate, hands fisted in his jacket as she rocked into him, bodies swaying as their lips clashed. It didn’t matter that they were standing in front of the entire school, every detail illuminated by the hot spotlight—in that moment, there was nothing but the two of them.

It wasn’t until they broke apart—and if people hadn’t known about them before, they sure did now—that Emma heard anything outside their bubble, but then it hit—the crowd was clapping and laughing, perhaps at the insanity of it all, but who cared. Gold’s voice was cutting through the chaos backstage, reaching that thin, forced pitch that meant he was furious, and Belle was already picking up the pieces. Neal was grumbling and nursing his arm—maybe the best acting he’d ever done—beating a retreat from the stage, and the rest of the cast and crew couldn’t take their eyes off of her and Killian as they scrambled to close the curtains and help Belle figure out what came next.

Emma tugged Killian into the wing and back through the stacks of equipment and props to a quiet corner, wanting to find a place they could speak, but also to remove him from Gold’s eyesight as quickly as possible.

“I’m so sorry. I should have—”

“Emma,” he murmured, tilting her chin up so she could see the truth in his words. “I’m not upset with you. How could I be?”

“It was my fault. If I hadn’t insisted that we keep our relationship a secret, then he…”

“Oh, Swan. It is not your fault that Neal assaulted you.”

“Assault is a little…look, if he had known we were together, he wouldn’t have tried to kiss me.”

“He shouldn’t have tried to force a kiss on you, regardless. You’ve been more than clear, for years, that you have no interest in him. Though, maybe I shouldn’t have lost my temper and stormed the stage,” Killian admitted, ducking his head and scratching his ear in that way that always made her heart flutter. “Thanks for saving me from myself, lass.”

“I meant what I said, Killian,” she whispered, her voice dropping as she pushed the words out before they could crawl back in. “I think…I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

“Are you sure it’s not just the hook, Swan?” he teased, giving her the out, because he just understood her that well, but she could see the hope in his eyes, and suddenly all of that old trepidation was gone.

“You’re not even wearing the hook,” she pointed out. “I’m sure, Killian Jones. I love you, whether you’re a smoldering-eyed pirate, or not.”

“You think my eyes smolder?”

“Stop it!” she laughed, shaking his shoulders gently as he waggled his brows at her, the both of them enjoying the smile of the other before he grew serious once more.

“And I love you, Emma—so much.”

“Yeah, I know.”

* * *

Gold’s fury had tapered down to mild annoyance by the next morning, no small thanks to Sydney Glass and his cover story on their humble production. He’d praised the comical genius of their work, calling it far from ‘just another retelling of the same old story’. He highlighted the unexpected romance and praised the heartfelt acting of the two leads, whose whirlwind chemistry swept the audience away. He even went so far as to paint the play as a tongue-in-cheek examination of eternal youth versus personal growth, and while Emma thought that the whole piece was a little lofty, she was more than happy that there hadn’t been any blowback on Killian for his stage-crashing.

Overall, opening night hadn’t been a total failure, and Belle had been more than capable of a hasty rewrite for their follow-up performances. While Neal wasn’t thrilled with his sudden decrease in lines, Emma was hardly going to complain that she got to kiss her smoldering-eyed Killian Jones on stage each night—and if the hook and pirate costume went missing from the prop department for some reason, she doubted anyone would notice.

END

#Captain Swan #captain swan ff #emma swan #killian jones #captain hook #cs fanfic #cs au #cs ff

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