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#once I settle into my new place I wanna make more limited life stuff and empires also :3c
noteguk · 3 years
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be quiet | jjk | m | drabble
[ ! ] this is a drabble for bad influence. It can be read as a stand-alone. 
— summary; in which jungkook is the best at picking the worst possible place for a quickie. 
— contents and warnings; smut, pwp, the endless adventures of badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, enemies with benefits, public sex (library), doing the nasty in the theology section, dirty talk, unprotected sex, mid-sex arguments, jk is a mean lil shit (nothing new), kind of dom!jk, creampie, oral (female receiving), cum eating, cum play
— words; 3.1k
— author’s note; this was requested by anon and I thought it would be a nice thing to drop before the angsty parts begin 😌 also, for time context, this happens a bit after “bad behavior”
~
You were pretty sure that Jungkook had chosen that section on purpose. Because he hated you, that’s why. 
Never once in your life had you wondered so far into the university’s library, past the known biology and chemistry shelves, and into the dusty alleyways of the humanities courses. And that was the shameful reason why you didn’t even know that there was a religious section in the first place. 
The realization was obvious if you actually stopped to think about it: there were so many classes related to theology in your university that it would be ridiculous not to have books on that. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel like the old, hardcover bible was staring at you in endless disappointment as Jungkook turned you around and threw the hem of your dress over your hips. 
“Shhhh, baby, keep it quiet,” he shushed you after a small whimper had escaped your lips, his palms spreading over your ass cheeks. “Someone’s gonna hear you.” 
Because Jungkook hated you (as previously established), he instantly contradicted himself with a loud slap against your ass. 
“You’re such a fucking idiot,” you hissed, fumbling closer to him as he tugged your underwear to the side. The cold air hit your wet folds instantly, spreading goosebumps through your skin. Jungkook was an expert at noticing the most timid, basic ways that your body reacted to his touches, so the clear asymmetry between your rough speech and the shivers running through your body was enough to make him snicker. “Keep it down. This isn’t funny.” 
Jungkook chuckled behind you, the sharp noise of his zipper opening sounding like a gunshot inside that quiet building. “No. It’s hilarious, actually.” 
You sighed, praying to all the books around you that no one would stumble across that erotic spectacle. You had no idea if there was another living soul wandering around the library so late — in fact, the place was like thirty minutes away from closing and you were positive that the librarian was already dozing off on the front counter when you arrived, so she was probably balls deep in REM sleep by that point. There was no one cramming for midterms, no night owls to interrupt the two of you and, just to top it all off, it was a fucking Friday. The library was so empty that you didn’t even know why you went to that place. 
Okay, that was a lie. You went there because Jungkook had booty called you — yeah, yeah, boo-hoo, shame and disgrace — but, in your defense, you honestly thought he was just in desperate need for some extra help with his project (which was what he had initially told you). Turns out, “extra help” in Jungkook Dictionary didn’t mean the academic one. It meant that he was pathetically hard and he wanted somewhere to stick his dick in (instead of doing it like a normal person and using his hand). 
Regardless, your position was equally embarrassing. You could’ve just walked away when you realized his true intentions, and not followed him into the theology section of the library, for fuck’s sake. You really needed to start exercising some self love and put some limits in that chaotic situationship before you got yourself in serious trouble. 
Still, all those mental promises turned into silence when you felt his fingers playing with your folds, teasing their way between them. “So fucking wet,” Jungkook’s horniness dripped from his voice like honey, so soft and deep that got your knees buckling, back arching so he could reach your heat better. “Such a needy girl. Always begging for cock.” 
“I didn’t beg for anything,” you weren’t in the mood to deal with his bullshit; looking over your shoulder just so you could stare him down. Somewhere along your messy make-out session and the Bible-induced guilt, Jungkook had already moved his pants and underwear halfway down his thighs, his cock standing erect and proud. His timing was fantastic when he was actually interested in something. “You’re the one that can’t keep it in your pants.” 
He scoffed. “Don’t ruin the mood.” Jungkook punctuated his sentence with the plunging of two of his fingers inside your pussy, making a surprised whimper fall from your mouth — which you suppressed a second too late. “And of course I can’t, not when you’re dressed like this.”
You rolled your eyes, fighting the pleasure that started to build up at the pumping of his fingers in and out of you. “My knee-level dress is neither sexy nor an open invitation, you troglodyte.” You had chosen to wear that dress because it was a deliciously warm afternoon, not because you wanted to get railed while staring at religious texts. Jungkook, however, seemed to stare at your choice of clothing like he was looking at an “all you can eat” bouffet. You groaned. “But if you’re gonna do it, can you rush? I don’t wanna get caught.” 
It was Jungkook’s turn to roll his eyes, a sigh escaping his lips as his digits left your heat. You knew he’d tease you endlessly if you didn’t say that, and you two were on a tight schedule. “You never do,” he mumbled. 
“Duh,” you said, watching as his hand curled around his cock, pumping it a few times. You placed your own hands on the shelves and refused to look at the books any longer. “I have a future, you know. Don’t wanna get expelled halfway through the—”
“Shut up,” he interrupted you, holding onto your hips. Jungkook aligned himself with your entrance, coating his crown with your wetness and grunting at the sensation. “Fuck. Don’t wanna talk about your stupid high marks right now.” 
Jungkook made his point clear with a swift roll of his hips, his thick length gradually entering your pussy. You bit down on your lip, closing your eyes as you marveled at the aphrodisiac sensation of his cock opening you up. “Shit,” you moaned — a whispered, breathy moan that wiped all your fierceness away. “You’re so — fuck — so annoying.” 
“I said shut up,” Jungkook hissed, his cock hitting deep inside you with a strong hit of his hips against yours. You could feel him everywhere, mercilessly pushing his way inside your tight walls and stretching them wide for him. 
Your eyes instantly fell shut, eyebrows raising as he started to set a rhythm, moving in and out of your soaked heat. The sounds of your bodies meeting was dirty and, worst of all, it was super perceptible to any one passing by — however, in typical Jungkook magic, you quickly forgot about most of your worries. “Oh my… Jungkook,” you gasped, feeling his grasp on your skin grow tighter at the uttering of his name. “Someone’s… someone’s gonna hear us.” 
But you had successfully managed to piss Jungkook off, which was a terrible sign in that specific (public) situation. “Shit, you’re always like this,” he groaned, raising the force of his thrusts. A desperate moan died on your throat at the feeling of his cock drilling in and out of you, your breath shallow. That couldn’t be good. “Can’t stop fucking talking.” 
Thinking was starting to get difficult, and speaking was even worse. “That’s not what I—”
Another whimper broke your sentence, your trail of thought long forgotten, and he used that opening to his advantage. One of Jungkook’s hands slithered from your hip to the front of your body, moving between your breasts before, at last, settling on your neck. There was no strength on his actions when he pulled you backwards, making your back press against his chest. “Why can’t you understand when I tell you to be fucking quiet, uh?” His voice was a rough growl close to your ear, filled with so much hunger that you almost lost your balance. Before you did, however, the tap of two of his fingers on your lips made your focus shift. “Do both of us a fucking favor and put your mouth to good use.” 
For the first time that night, you were obedient. Without hesitation, you parted your lips so his fingers could move inside your mouth, a deep exhale leaving his chest once you started sucking on them; muffling your whimpers. 
“That’s it, fuck,” he praised, his momentaneous anger slipping away from his grasp. You could feel Jungkook throbbing inside you every time you swirled your tongue around his digits, his length splitting you open like no one else could. “You’re so fucking tight. The only reason why I don’t stuff your mouth full of my cock right now is because this pussy is too good.” 
You clenched around him, tried to say something that sounded like gibberish with his fingers still in your mouth. Amazingly so, Jungkook understood what it was. 
“Are you gonna cum, baby?” He asked, breathless. You could only nod, your body bouncing up and down with the force of his precise thrusts. “Yeah?” He chuckled. “You know, I should just leave you like this, see if you learn to shut up for once.” 
“Pfflease, no,” you struggled to get out. 
“No? Now you listen to what I have to say?” Jungkook kept teasing you, watching as your initial petulant attitude was washed away. Doing that to you seemed to be a habit that he couldn’t let go, no matter how hard he tried. There was something about the way you fumbled and whimpered under his grasp that inflated his ego more than anything. “You only listen when I have you like this. Don’t you think that’s funny?” 
Jungkook pulled his fingers out of your mouth, using that hand to press your body closer to his; tattooed arm wrapped in an iron grip around your waist. “Sorry,” you didn’t even know why you were apologizing at that point; you were just trying to grasp at anything that could bring you some sort of salvation. Maybe if you tried to appease his pestering spirit, he wouldn’t be so cruel when it came to your release. “Jungkook, please.” 
“Please what?” He asked, his breath ragged against your ear; sounding like he was almost getting lost in your pussy. 
“Please let me cum, please,” you begged. You didn’t know how he managed to do it: to make your entire personality crumble down into a desperate, needy mess with little to no effort. He knew just the right buttons to push; just the right way to fuck you. It was a dangerous game that you were playing and the score clearly wasn’t in your favor. 
“I’ll think about it.” He groaned, a particularly loud moan ripping itself from his throat at another hash buckle of his hips. He was fucking your so well that you couldn’t even remember where you were for a second, all inihibitions pushed aside as your mind turned into a hazed, disconnected mess. “First, be a good girl and let me fill you up.” 
You nodded desperately, not trusting yourself to say anything else. The heat in your stomach was building up at a worrisome speed, threatening to spill over at any given second, and yet you didn’t think it would happen quick enough. 
Just as you expected, Jungkook was cumming a few thrusts later, spilling himself inside your pussy as he groaned against your shoulder. “Fuck, baby,” he was fighting for air, trying to keep his moans as quiet as he could manage them. And yet, when his mouth right next to your ear, you could hear with divine clarity the beautiful, airy sighs he gifted you as he continued to fuck you through his high. “Take it, come on. Fuck.” 
You were almost pleading for your own body to hush and allow you to cum before Jungkook pulled away but, once again, you weren’t that lucky. You were left with shaky legs as he removed himself from your heat; feeling awfully empty as he swirled you around before crashing his mouth against yours in a messy kiss. 
Yes, Jungkook fucked you like no one else could, but kissing him managed to be even more heavenly sometimes. Time and time again, he would surprise you with kisses that left you seeking for air; the slow drag of his tongue against yours matching perfectly with the way his hand cupped your cheek, thumb delicately caressing the skin. It was the eye of a hurricane, the tranquil skies before the storm hit, and you could get lost in it with such ease that it scared you sometimes. 
But then he pulled away, and the magic left you just as quickly as it had arrived. “J-Jungkook, I didn’t—“ 
“Shh, baby, I know.” Another tender kiss against your lips, and his mouth moved to your jaw, nibbling on the skin. “Gonna clean you up, princess. Don’t worry.” 
Brain too overwhelmed to react, you were left speechless as Jungkook trailed a path of sloppy kisses down your neck, sending shivers down your spine before, at last, getting down on his knees before you. A question got trapped in your throat, rapidly forgotten, when he raised one of your thighs and placed it over his shoulder. “Hold this up for me.” He signed at the hem of your dress, and you did as he requested, pulling the fabric to the level of your breasts. “That’s my girl.” 
A shivering sigh danced on your tongue as you waited for him to move, his eyes eagerly taking in the way his release dripped between your folds, mingling with your own wetness. Jungkook loved to watch his work. “So pretty,” Jungkook mumbled, as he always did; sounding like he was trapped in a daydream. Like you weren’t actually supposed to hear that. “Always so pretty for me.” 
You got lost in his praise for exactly two seconds before he was leaning in and pressing his mouth against your heat. Your hips buckled forward, barely held in place by his strong arms around your thighs. “Jungkook,” you called his name, making his dark eyes snap towards yours. His tongue prodded against your opening once, twice, teasing your pussy a few times before he licked his path up your slit, lips wrapping around your clit. “God, so good.” 
Jungkook hummed against your heat, lapping between your folds like he was a starved animal, not caring about the fact that his own cum was mixed with your arousal. You were starting to consider that maybe he had a bit of an oral fixation, because you never saw him so focused as when he had his face buried between your thighs; his tongue playing with your sensitive spots so eagerly that you couldn’t help but whine out his name. 
“Oh— Fuck,” you whimpered, feeling  as that familiar pressure started to build on the base of your spine. Your hands were sweaty, clenching onto the fabric of your flowery dress as Jungkook continued to moan and lick his way around your pussy. “Fuck, I’m so close.”
Jungkook was looking up at you through the thick curtain of his messy hair, his devilish eyes sparking up in a silent dare for you to make a mess on his tongue. At the same time that he told you to keep quiet, you knew that he got off when you were loud — especially in a place like that, where the two of you could get caught. He was a fucking demon when he wanted to be, and he seriously didn’t have any trouble dragging you to hell along with him. 
The worst part was that you liked it. You liked it since the very first time he had you, liked the way he took your precious control away from you. You liked when he had you like that: a shivering, desperate mess hanging by a thread; dwelling in the fantastic sensation of his wet muscle prodding your entrance, fucking it open as he stared up at you like he could eat you whole. 
It was always the sight of Jungkook like that — between your thighs, eating you out like you were his favorite sweet — that pushed you over the edge. You pressed the back of your hand against your mouth, muffling your needy cries as you finally reached your high, his tongue still playing with your clit as you came down. Jungkook groaned as a small wave of your arousal dripped on him, his mouth expertly cleaning it up, just like he had promised. 
“S-Stop,” you whimpered, a violent shiver overtaking your muscles as you started to feel the effects of your sensitivity. “Too much.” 
After a final stroke of his tongue against your slick, Jungkook tugged your panties back in place and removed your thigh from his shoulder before, finally, he moved back to his feet. Your hand, weak, let go of the fabric and allowed your dress to collapse back into place, covering the mess between your legs. 
He smirked at your overwhelmed, fucked-out state as he tugged himself back inside his pants. The sound of his zipper was once again a noisy interruption, which brought along a new wave of panic as you remembered your location. 
You grabbed Jungkook’s wrist, twisting it around so you could look at his watch. “We have five minutes until closing time.” You sighed heavily, looking up at him with your typical irritated stare. His magic didn’t last for long, after all. “Why are you always like this?”
“Like what?” Jungkook raised one eyebrow, unable to hide the entertainment in his voice as he watched your expression. He ran one hand through his dark hair, pushing it back. “Incredibly handsome? Charismatic? Good at everything? Including eati—”  
“I was going to ask why do you have the inherent need to defile religious places, but whatever helps you sleep at night,” you interrupted. “By the way, this,” you pointed between you two, “is not happening again. So I hope you had a good last time.” 
Jungkook chuckled, holding your chin with his fingers. “This is like the third time you’re saying that, baby.” He pulled you in for a quick kiss, barely a tender press of his lips against yours. “But whatever helps you sleep at night.” 
 ~
Check out the rest of the bad influence collection!
Taglist: @youurkryptonite @taehyungieskith @fan-ati--c @btstrasht @crazy4myself @sashimi-mochi @ft-multi @kooafraid @dianaaviny @ggukkieland @cryinginmypromdress @kissestothesky @imluckybitches @gyukult @jinsalpaca @0901-1230
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182 Centimeters | Tall!F!Reader x Surprise
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A great boon has been bestowed upon Aoi Todo. First, he got to meet Takada in person. Second, he gained a brother. Third, he was able to fight a special grade all in one month.
Is there anything else that could make this trip perfect?
Todo didn't think so until he lays eyes on you, standing in the middle of the hallway with luggage tucked under one arm and the other holding onto a rolling suitcase. He remembers now about Mai mentioning a late edition transfer student who was going to be joining in the school games a little late. He only wishes Mai had warned him about the other thing about you. The fact that you are an amazon in the flesh.
"She has to be 187," Todo thinks upon first seeing you and sizing you up from a respectable distance. "No, she's definitely closer to 185. Definitely, 185," he corrects as he tries to measure you by judging how far your head was away from the top door frame. When he glances down at your feet, he realizes his stupid mistake and smacks himself on the forehead. "I'm such an idiot. I forgot about her shoes." Taking your soles into account, he finally narrows down your height range. You have to be 182cm. An even 6 feet. That makes you taller than even Takada!
Todo's eyes widen upon the realization.
You had half his attraction factor right there; and with his help in training, you would definitely have the second half. He knows plenty of exercises that would make your ass look great and have the rest of your body strong enough to toss any curse. You guys could make training into dates, and dates would lead to the two of you making kissy faces. Aoi can already picture it. Naturally, you'd be admiring him, shirtless and glistening with sweat, unable to take your eyes off him. Then, you'd grow embarrassed when he would call you out on it and try to look away like you were never staring in the first place. Luckily for you, he wouldn't mind if you wanted to look at his chiseled chest a little while longer. Or better yet, touch it. 
Todo isn't sure what he's done to deserve such luck. Perhaps the world is rewarding him for finally breaking his record of 1000 sit-ups in an hour or maybe it's the limited-edition lucky Takada-chan charm that arrived in a mail a week earlier working its magic?
Either way, this might be the best year of his life, Todo decides.
That is until he hears a familiar voice. 
"Hey there! How are you doing?" Yuuji asks loudly as he walks up to your person. Todo should've known. Of course, his brother would sense best girl material walking into the building.
"My name is Yuuji. What's yours?"
"I'm (Name). I'm a new student here. I'm a little lost actually. Could you help me out?"
Even your voice sounds so cute! You were so perfect.
That means Yuuji had no chance with the way he was doing things now. Despite Todo wanting you for himself, he could never leave his brother to make such an embarrassment of himself. If the two of them are to battle for your love, it has to be a fair battle.
"Yeah, the dorms are thi—" Yuuji yelps as he's suddenly tugged away from you and dragged around the nearest corner, leaving you in a confused state where you stood.
"What’s the big idea?" Yuuji asks, breaking free from the grasp that held him.
"I'm trying to save you, brother! What do you think you're doing walking up to a woman like that so casually?" Todo asks.
It takes Yuuji a few seconds to realize that Todo meant you were the woman that couldn't be so casually spoken to since he's fairly sure you're a first-year like him. "I'm pretty sure she's the same age as us, dude."
This is worse than he thought. He's definitely going to have to give Yuuji the rundown on how to properly ask a girl out. "That doesn't matter. She's still a lady that requires finesse if you're going to try to ask her out," Todo says. 
Sadly, they are too busy in their discussion to notice you getting impatient for Yuuji to return or to notice another one of your classmates passing them and heading in your direction. You are just thankful to finally have someone help walk you to your dorm and not ditch you instead.
For the rest of the day, Yuuji is stuck with Todo lecturing in his ear. The first time being at the baseball game against the Kyoto school.
"First, you need to set the mood. And by mood, I mean you need to get her attention on you. Do something to impress her without her knowing you're trying to impress her," Todo instructs as you round home base on long legs, which Todo claims is made for a goddess. You were able to get a score for the team thanks to Fushiguro's sacrifice bunt, and the two of you take a seat in the dugout.
"Shouldn't you be helping your team?" Yuuji asks Todo after seeing him compliment your score. Todo sighs. Obviously, Yuuji needs more lessons. 
Eventually, Yuuji steps up to the plate for his turn. Naturally, he hits a home run. As he rounds home, he sees you applauding loudly. Your eyes perfectly on him. It definitely feels good to have a cute girl's attention, and Yuuji realizes that he did really want to ask you out. He wonders if Todo thinks that's a good way to set the mood.
The next time Todo decides to instruct Yuuji is after they all take their showers and decide to rest up before dinner. "Next, you need to leave a letter under her door. Something to pique her interest and make her want to meet up with you."
Luckily, Yuuji has seen this before in anime. "Right, right. I heard of that actually." He easily drafted a letter and slid it under your dorm door. It sounds like you're talking to someone else on the other side so Yuuji hopes you'll see it in time so the two of you can meet up in fifteen minutes.
"Finally, make sure the place you meet up is scenic," Todo says, nodding his head and closing his eyes to repeat the steps in his head as he follows his brother to the school's courtyard. Impress? Check. Letter? Check. Scenic meet-up place? Check.
It isn't until he feels Yuuji's hand on his shoulder and a quick thanks that Todo realizes his mistake. Yuuji rushes away from him to the other side of the courtyard where you're waiting with the letter in hand. 
"My name is Yuuji. I don't know if you remember me from class."
"Oh, yes, I know! You hit that homerun. It was really great."
Todo stands in shock. 
...He was so busy trying to teach that he actually forgot to pursue you first!
"Really? Thanks! I was just trying to make sure I actually hit it. I wasn't expecting it to go so far." Yuuji laughed. "So, (Name), I was wondering if you wanna go out together?"
Todo could cry. Actually, he already feels the tears coming down his face, but his brother could at least be happy. And if his brother is happy, that's all he needed!
"I'm sorry," you say sweetly. "I only showed up because I didn't want to stand you up, but the truth is I already like someone, and I wouldn't feel comfortable going out with someone when I have a crush on another person."
Todo's ears ring with your words. You already like someone!
"Oh, well, that's too bad, I guess. Thanks for telling me," Yuuji says with a disappointed yet understanding smile while Todo finds the opportunity to scoot in the middle of your conversation.
"Excuse me but your crush wouldn't happen to be on me by any chance?" he asks, hopeful.
You force a smile onto your face and tilt your head. "Sorry...Have we met?" you ask, nervously.
Todo gasps as he feels his world crashing down. Your date. Your marriage. Your kids. All gone, and it’s all black in his memory after that. The next thing he can recall is sitting in the eating area with Itadori. He remembers this heartache once before. "It's just like with Takada-chan..." he mumbles heartbrokenly.
"I told you already. We never went to the same middle school, and you never confessed to Takada," Yuuji grumbles, but Todo knows that Yuuji is only trying to make him feel better. He is so lucky to have such a good brother.
"Who...Who do you think it is anyway?"
Yuuji pauses.
He actually wonders that as well.
Then, they hear your voice ringing through the dining hall. Immediately, both sets of eyes are on you. 
"Fushiguro-kun, I wanted to thank you for helping me get settled into the academy. My mom gave me a buy one, get one free for a sushi place for when I made some friends, so...I was wondering if you wanted to be my plus one?"
Then, Yuuji finally gets it. He had been ignoring the small conversations happening around him the entire time thanks to Todo's interruptions.
The Hall.
"Excuse me. I'm looking for the dorms. Gojo-sensei was supposed to show me, but he got sidetracked so I've been sort of left on my own."
"Of course, he did. Geeze, that guy." Megumi sighs. "You can follow me. I'll show you where some empty rooms near the other girls are."
"Thank you so much! I'm (Name) by the way."
"Fushiguro," he states plainly and simply as you struggle behind him with your luggage. "Is that stuff heavy? Want me to help you carry it?"
”Yes. My arms got numb while I was waiting. Thank you so much!”
The Game.
"Out!" Gojo says. Fushiguro rounds first base to head back to the dugout, but you at least made it home to score. You head to the dugout as well.
"That's too bad, Fushiguro. You'll get it next time," you say, sitting next to him.
"As long as Kugisaki made it to second and you made it home then it's fine. I'm not really too hyped up on winning anyway."
”Oh. I was really looking forward to seeing you get one.”
”Too bad. Guess you’ll have to wait,” and by “wait” Megumi had meant probably not ever but you laughed anyway even though you had got what he meant. 
”I don’t mind waiting.”
The Dorms.
"Kugisaki-san said you could summon different shikigami animals."
"That's true."
"Would you mind showing me sometime? I love animals."
"What is your favorite?"
"I really like rabbits. Are you able to summon those?"
"Not at the moment, but I’ll show you when I learn it. How do you feel about dogs instead?"
”That cute dog was yours? That’s amazing.”
And now.
"Yeah, sure. I wasn't really in the mood for anything at school anyway," Fushiguro agrees, and your face lights up with a glow that could rival sunshine. Yuuji thinks if he squints he can see the anime hearts starting to dance over your head but Fushiguro didn't seem to mind.
Itadori could almost laugh. That's a new record in anyone ever befriending Fushiguro. The two of you must have hit it off really well. Yuuji smiles. In that case, he couldn't be upset. That must mean fate has something in store for you guys, and he didn't want to get in the way. "I guess girls really do like that cool, quiet type."
Meanwhile, Todo is crying in defeat. How could a woman like you like Fushiguro? 
"He's so boring though..."
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thismaydestroyme · 3 years
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Little Did I know Pt. 2
summary: in this short story, harry is famous, and he moved into a town during the summer to relax and potentially write some new songs for his upcoming album. i included some song lyrics from different amazing artists, and i pretended that harry and y/n wrote it.
author’s note: i wrote the beginning of this two months ago me being lazy i picked up where i left off because i’m too lazy to read through this. so if there’s any major fuck ups then…. i did warn you that i’m incompetent
word count: 3165
“I’m a SLAVE FOR YOU!” Y/N shouts out, and little did you know Harry was front and center watching your trainwreck of a performance. 
Harry did a whole french inhale without breaking eye contact with you. “I really wanna dance tonight with you.” Y/N hears Brittany playing in the background which you pause the music, to see what Harry would say about your little ‘performance.’ 
“Really? A slave? don’t you think it’s pretty dramatic don’t ya think?” Harry says, raising one of his eyebrows. You know he’s just playing around, but you coudn’t help feeling embarrassed how he fucking witnessed… that. You don't want Harry to know that you’re embarrassed, so you did the next best thing. 
“That fucking snake was huge. Did you know she was holding an Albino Burmese Python? I bet MTV wasn’t expecting that. Do you think MTV got filthy rich from that performance? Everyone tuned in for that performance and till this day it’s still the most talked about.” You ramble and spew out random information you bet Harry couldn’t care two shit about.” Harry has a smirk on his face, you bet he was enjoying you looking like a damn idiot. 
You start profusely apologizing until Harry interrupts you, “Do you want to come over?” He says all nonchalantly and walks away without you even agreeing. You’re all stunned and weren't able to even say one single word or even move your two feet. Harry doesn’t need to turn around to see you not moving, “C’mon weirdo, don’t act all shy with me now.” He threw back. 
“Fuck.” You whisper, but your feet finally start to move and your feet are heading straight to Harry. 
Harry turned his head and started to smirk, but he kept walking which had you feeling some nerves building up in your stomach. You’re not scared per se, just you’re going to Harry Styles house. This is normal. This is fine. This is just a once in a lifetime opportunity. 
Cool. 
When you finally get to his entrance Harry is already inside and he disappears somewhere because you don’t see him. You hesitantly walk inside and shut the door behind you. When you turn around you couldn’t help, but notice the disarray this house is covered in. Your mouth gape opened, but you immediately brought your hands to cover up how shocked you are. You couldn’t help but gawk at Harry’s place. There’s a big pink couch in the center of the room which is covered in boxes and clothes. There’s a TV on the floor which doesn’t seem to be plugged in because you don’t see it even plugged in. You try not to be too judgy because he did just move in, so what do you expect?  Harry having his life all sorted out in a span of a couple of weeks? 
You almost missed the nice white fluffy carpet that’s underneath the couch. Even though Harry’s place is a disaster, you can envision what Harry is planning on doing when he has his stuff all situated. In the back of your mind you hope he might even invite you back if he does a ‘welcoming party.’
Before you could even investigate more Harry walks back in with two bottles of water in his hand. He’s already drinking out of one of them, so he handed the one that hasn’t been opened to you. You reach your hands over to grab it. 
“This isn’t safe for the environment.” You states while unscrewing the cap. 
“Well.. you belting out to Britney is an endangerment to our society, so I guess we both got the short end of the sticks.” 
You immediately start drinking your water because you didn’t have your next rebuttal. You start scanning the room and hoping it’ll have your heartbeat settle down because you can feel it through your chest. Harry moves from his spot and starts taking boxes off the couch and to make some room for the both of you. He had to take down three boxes, so you could both sit comfortably. 
Harry walks over to you, but you freeze. Harry was pleased knowing he had you all flustered. It was one of Harry’s turn ons. Harry sits and brings his arms draping on the back of the couch which would have you being in his arm if you decide to sit right there. A couple of seconds of you contemplating you walk towards Harry and hesitantly sit down. 
“I’m not going to bite.” he whispers in your left ear. Feeling his breath in your ear made you slightly clench your thighs together, hoping Harry doesn’t notice. But knowing your track record he probably did notice.
You try to come up with a conversation starter that hopefully doesn't hold all the spotlight on you. You look down at her close water bottle and scrambling for something in her head. 
“Now you’re shy. The last time I checked up you were coming for my head after that  mishap with your dog earlier.” 
“You deserved it. You were attacking Cosmo, so yeah. I was in fact coming for your ass.” You glance your eyes to Harry. You’re overly protected over Cosmo. Cosmo is your life.
Harry gave you a smirk. He couldn’t help but to admire your bluntness. He barely comes across people who lit a fire inside of him. They always try to please him because he is a celebrity, and people just want to please him- which he doesn’t mind, but he does wish they sometime bites back. Having you in his presence he doesn’t want to let you go just yet, little did he know, he wants to get to know you more. 
“What do you do, Y/N besides piercing people’s eardrums and being a dog mom.” 
“Ummm.. that’s a loaded fucking question. But you being Harry fuckin’ Styles I guess I have to come up with something to make myself more interesting and less… chaotic. Well I’m a 21 years old who doesn’t have anything to offer to this world. I live my life accepting I’ll probably be working at Newbury Comics. And on top of that I love music, but I’ll be considered unqualified because I have no talents, and all I could do is muster up some mediocre lyrics that I have stored in my notes app.” 
Harry didn’t break any eye contact when you were summarizing your sad life. That created a pit in your stomach because you never experienced anything that could ever compare to Harry’s tense gaze. 
Harry never encountered anyone in the span of meeting them baring their skin to him. He couldn’t help, but feel some sort of pride knowing he created a space for Y/N to be able to let your hair down and express herself in full detail. He feels more drawn to you because he knows what you’re feeling. The unknown is a scary thing to feel, but you’re doing that with grace without you even realizing it. Just accepting reality is the biggest thing to acknowledge, and you’re doing just that. 
“What do you have on your notes? Could you even help me write my next album.” Harry shrug glances his eyes away from you. 
You feel a surge of worries entering her body. You don't know what’s going on, and you don't like it. “What?! You barely know me. My so-called ‘lyrics’ could be shitty and cliche. What are you getting out of this? My humiliation?” You don't like being taken as a joke, but that’s all  you could come up with this peculiar interaction. Harry sees a naive little girl. 
“You’re pretty,” Harry says. And that’s all he said. He got up and walked out the room. You're left on the couch alone, and not understanding what he just said. Just a few minutes ago he asked for your help, and now just a few seconds ago he said you’re pretty. What kind of fuckery is this?!
You immediately got up and walked to whatever room you could find Harry in. It wasn’t that hard because Harry is in the kitchen. 
“Harry! I need you to explain. Talk to me, please.” You say while running her hands down your face. You thanked yourself for not wearing any makeup.
“Uh, you beg. I like that Y/N,” Harry chuckles and closes his fridge door. 
“Well…. I do find you attractive and I see a potential in you. I might be wrong or I might be right. There’s nothing wrong with finding out and seeing what you have.” Harry says. Harry isn’t afraid to look people in the eyes, but you sure do. You’re debating if you should  take this risk. Harry did say there’s nothing wrong with finding it out. 
“Fine. I will take that jump with you.” You say unsurely, but you have some faith in him and a little bit in yourself. 
“Good. Now can you stop being tense and enjoy yourself. You’re in fact talking to the one and only Harry Styles.” 
“Shut up, doofus.” 
One month Later
After Harry made the deal with you a month ago,  you guys have been surprisingly working together quite nicely. You guys wrote one complete song, and that song is now called, “Dirty Little Secret.” You can’t wait to hear Harry sing that song with his band because you’re pretty sure it will fit the band theme for his upcoming album. Harry doesn’t want to limit himself, but he does have an idea to make his third album mostly rock. 
Harry didn’t expect you to be a fuckin’ genious. Watching you in the corner jotting down lines in your beat up notebook with a pen in your hand made you start feeling someway. You always appreciate the art seeing people enjoy what they do, but Y/N is truly gifted because she has no experience with producing music. One long night two weeks ago you guys were sleep deprived because there was a week where you guys would stay up all night to write and you would stop when you saw the sunrise. Y/N found her love in music because of her father. He was a huge factor that made her who she is today. There was substance in her when she would talk about the accent in a song, how she would bounce that off with the bar while you would play the instruments. Y/N is truly a force to be reckoned with and you couldn’t help but wonder how it would be like to have her on tour with you. 
Y/N never felt more alive after her father passed. It’s like Harry woken something inside of her. You never thought you would experiment with music with Harry Styles, the artist for this generation. You’re not going to lie that you would watched all of his interviews and he would talk about when he write songs he has no boundaries, and it’s crazy he upheld that ideology because Harry made sure you know that there’s no right or wrong way, the only way is to play around and see how it goes. 
“I’m going to get some water. Do you want some?” You ask Harry dropping your notebook on the coffee table that’s covered in rolled up papers and a lot of take out boxes.
“Yeah. Thanks.” He says. You nod at him, and you got up to grab two cups of ice water for you both. 
Your notebook page flipped to a new page and Harry couldn’t help but notice to see “Bubblegum Bitch” written in all caps. Harry got intrigued, so he happily kicked the table so the book could fall, so his excuse could be, “Y/N it fell.” 
Harry kicked the coffee table with his big ass feet and the notebook happily splat on the floor. Harry reached for it and started flipping pages to see that title again, and it took him a couple of tries to find it. 
“Got a figure like a pin-up, got a figure like a doll
Don't care if you think I'm dumb, I don't care at all
Candy bear, sweetie pie, wanna be adored
I'm the girl you'd die for”
Harry couldn’t help but not try to read all the lyrics. He wants to digest it all, but he knew Y/N could walk in any second. He couldn’t help but make a small gasp when he skimmed to the part of the song that had him falling on his knees 
“I'm gonna be your bubblegum bitch.” 
“Harry, what are you doing?” Y/N says timidly. On the outside Y/N is calm and cool and collective, but on the inside you’re shaking and screaming. Your songs are attended only to you, not for other eyes to see. You’re still not confident with your writing abilities when it comes to songs for yourself, but knowing your idol probably read more than one line of your song is having you want the ground to swallow you up. 
“I’m not going to tiptoe around you and pretend Y/N. Bubblegum Bitch is amazing, fuck maybe fucking brillant Y/N. Shit.” Harry says he looks at you but goes back down to your notebook flipping pages after pages. 
You’re stuck where you’re standing. Feeling the condensation of two cups of water you’re currently holding is the only concept you’re able to maintain. 
Did Harry say that he likes your songs? Did he say brilliant? You’re not able to speak, all you’re able to do is walk up to the coffee table, drop the cups down and grab your notebook from Harry's grabby hands and collect your belongings. This is too much. You feel too much. You simply can’t right now. 
Harry sees you picking up your stuff and shoving your notebook and pens in your purse you bring every time you visit him. Harry couldn’t help, but feel bad that he could possibly make you feel uncomfortable. 
Harry stands up and starts walking up to where you are putting the last thing in your bag, “Y/N I’m sorry if me going through your stuff made you angry, but I couldn't help it Y/N. What I read was amazing, you’re amazing.” Harry hurrys out his words because he felt if he didn’t say it fast enough you would vanish. 
You’re trying to hold back your tears because it’s getting too much for you. The last time somebody read your stuff was your father, and right now you feel like you’re betraying the intimate moments you had with him. He was the one you would share your songs first with him. Now that he’s gone, you couldn’t put yourself out there to have someone else read it. You turn back around and you try to give a smile to Harry. 
“It’s okay, I- I just have to go. I’m sorry. We can talk later.” You push past Harry to make it to the front door, but you feel someone hand on your wrist so you immediately stop. 
“Y/N, I can’t have you leave, when I know that you’re not okay. Can you please talk to me? Please?” There’s a hint of sadness in Harry. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave him without having the answer he’s yearning for. 
You turn around and there’s Harry. His green eyes are pleading with yours, and you couldn’t help, but do what Harry is asking you to do. 
“Okay, I don’t want pity. Okay? Tell me you understand.” You ask Harry because the last thing you want from him is sympathy. 
“I promise Y/N. Would you mind if we sit down?” You nod your head and he walks you back with his hand in your hand. You both couldn’t help but feel some sort of palse running inside you both while holding each other's hands. It’s something both of you guys can’t simply forget. 
You got to the couch and you both sat down, no longer holding hands. You adjust yourself so you can face him. “Okay. My father died a couple of years ago and he was the only one I let read my stuff first. After he passed I never showed anyone my stuff because it would feel like I’m replacing him. I’m not mad that you read my stuff- I was just surprised, and I couldn’t help it but feel sadness creeping over me. Once again, I’m not angry at you, I’m just adjusting to a new milestone I just crossed without me not realizing it.” You say, and you’re hoping Harry doesn’t say, “Oh I’m sorry”  because you’re sorry to. 
“Well, I’m not sorry for your loss,” Harry says and you couldn’t help, but smile and laugh. “but I’m not sorry that I read it. You have something Y/N and I know you told me you haven’t had any experience in music industry, but fuck that. You have passion and I feel that every time we write something together in the past month, I don’t think I'll be able to forget about you when the summer is over.” Harry says. There was so much sincerity in what he just said.  
You thought it was all one sided because you felt so much being with Harry. You felt you were finally seeing a rainbow you hadn’t seen in a very long time. Harry brings so much out of you that you. Harry was always there when you were scared to take the first step. Him being there with you made it less scary because he was there every step of the way.
Harry didn’t expect he would’ve met someone this summer who would make such an impact on him. Harry thought he would do a lot of hooks up, go to parties and write for the entirety of the summer. But the universe had something planned for him. He met Y/N. He didn’t want to tell Y/N he that he found his first and only love, but he didn’t want to scare her. She could probably feel the same way or she only saw him as a friend but neither of them were ready for that big leap of faith. Even Y/N knew Harry is someone she couldn’t live without because he brings something out of you that you never felt in your entire life and that was courage and faith. 
Y/N met her faith. Only time could tell if faith would lead Harry and Y/N the soulmate they both were looking for.
“Harry, I don’t think I could possibly forget about you.” Y/N whisper because you felt if you used your normal voice the bubble you guys created would shatter within seconds.
Faith is a silly thing because faith could have you longing for something that’s impossible to grasp or faith could have you leaving you vulnerable, but that vulnerability could unlock something you never dreamt was even possible. 
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hunterartemis · 3 years
Text
Media Bias (Avengers X Alien!Reader)
It was a request from anonymous reader and since I have limited experience with tagging, I am going to quote the person’s request here:
“ Hi can you please do Avengers x reader where the reader is like Starfire from og teen titans (but the reader is green and the blasts are blue) and the Avengers go on a talk show and the host is being very mean to her. Thanks”
So, dear anonymous. I hope you enjoy!“
Words: a whopping 4100
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Y/n, open the door” I heard Sam thudding away on my door as I buried myself in the layers of blanket and put the air condition humid enough to cause a mini monsoon.
“Go away Wilson and leave me alone--” I bellowed on top of my voice.
“Y/n it’s been more than 7 hrs, you got to come out... whatever happened in the morning you gotta let it go--”
“I don’t wanna let it go... I am a national embarrassment--”
You must be thinking, what is the situation you’ve been dragged into. Let me pause there and rewind 17 hours back to give you a complete understanding which lead to this complete mess.
People think our story ended and sealed with Thanos never got to see what we go through in the New York penthouse. With the ongoing Pandemic on board, people are desperate to see us even more, as if it is the new Thanos and we are to defeat it. There is no greater sense of helplessness than playing the puppet of courage without doing anything. So whoever wrote that “after the defeat of big bad, the heroes rejoice” was a big idiot.
And thus, I found myself awake after hours, sitting alongside the broad glass panel that showed the completely stopped-in-time, shining in the dark cityscape of once bustling New York. A fleeting sense of desolation plagued me as I remember my own world in the verge of extinction. My breath almost stopped in the great worry of my fellow living being in this planet; the one who saved me from destitution--
 “y/n, is that you?”A calm and concerned paternal voice broke the train of my thought. I sharply looked behind my shoulder to see a disheveled figure of man standing in the dark. By the tousled curls and the slouched hem of the sweatpants, I knew was Bruce.
“Urh, you startled me!” I said with a dismissive voice. I felt almost embarrassed to realize what I was thinking moments ago. I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself.
“It’s you who startled me y/n, what are you doing up so late?” Bruce said with a groggy voice rubbing his eyes rather irritatingly. “We have an important event to attend tomorrow first thing in the morning” he slowly moved towards from the shadowy part of the room to the path of dimmed light from the glass panel and spared a long glance at my face. The way he looked at me sometimes irritated me, because it was an inalienable fact that he fell into the same category of humans who express an unhealthy obsession with my kind: a scientist.
“It’s not like I enjoy staying up like you Lowly Human...I am as stressed for tomorrow as you are!” I tore my face from his ken to express my displeasure. In reply, he sighed disappointedly, which sounded patronizing in my already agitated mind.
“I wish you’d stop insulting my specie whenever you get upset...” he gently put his hand in my shoulder, but soon he withdrew and stepped back. “And what is that god-awful smell?”
Any female whether she is human or not is very sensitive to criticism, especially about how she appears, thus Bruce’s comment was not only offensive but hurtful as well. I could not restrain my anger and annoyance anymore, and I stood up sharply to face him “I just happen to wet myself in the rain yesterday at my detour downtown and it turns out it has too much sulphuric acid and it is peeling my skin away... right before when I am about to go up close on television.”  My hand subconsciously moved up to my cheek, where flakes were forming in my otherwise jade smooth skin. “And you are telling me to stop insulting your specie... I will when you unicellular cretins will stop ruining your own environment—“ I folded my arms defensively, gazing away from Bruce’s face “--as if I don’t get ridiculed enough for my chrorophyllic skintone, and now I am shedding like a common reptile.”
“Alright alright I am sorry...” Bruce threw up his arms defensively, and his small paces back and forth showed his discomfort more than anything, “do you want something for your skin, CeraVe or something? I can fetch you some ice if you want?”
His apologetic gesture made my whole effort defeated; but my pride disrupted me from being apologetic “Forget it... as if those human manures would work on my skin—“ I heaved a sigh and looked at him again “must we do the thing? I mean I am not the only alien that set foot on earth in this decade, why must I be walked around like a showdog in front of all the people?”
For some moments Bruce did not answer me. I almost thought he was ignoring me, but then I realised that he must be contemplating on every word he wanted to say and every word that was running through his brilliant mind. Out of anyone in the team, Bruce was the visual hole, the less than heroic material: even with the Hulk. And for this, the society made sure that he would be self conscious for the rest of his life for his other identity. My annoyance almost melted to sympathy when I heard him speak in a rather frustrated voice.
“Y/N, I know that you are stressed about this and frankly I hate this stuff too, but this is very important for the people: for your people as well as ours. Not all things that come from the space are benign and people need reassurance that you are not hostile. I hate this too, but it is for the greater good!”
“Greater good, greater good... it is always for the greater good!”  The same old daily whining of lofty agenda made me sick “I am sick and tired of these Brucie, I don’t want to do this anymore... I am tired about people asking me weird questions and cretins posing as scientists trying to push probes on me the first chances they get-- I wish I could just disappear with the portal that brought me in this cursed place!“
Bruce came closer and grabbed my shoulders gently “Don’t say that y/n... otherwise we wouldn’t have the means to counterattack all those aliens—“ my silence might have given him the cue that he wasn’t doing a very good job at convincing. His wavering eyes fixed on my face once again as he spoke “okay, here is a deal: how about it is the last time you appear in public, hm? Once you satisfy them that you are part of the team, I swear people will leave you alone... they left the Hulk alone too once they understood that he is one of the good guys!”
“No but...“
“No ifs and buts... go, and have some sleep. Let me look in the lab if we have some squalanes and peptide solutions lying around—“ he said with a paternal affection and disappeared into the dark passage which lead to his room
“Thanks Brucie you are the best—“
I couldn’t help but to smile a little. Humans!
...
“This is a bad idea I am telling you--“ I told Bruce with an hushed tone as the makeup artist went on with a puff on my face for the millionth times. The rest of my team was behind me, getting the same attentions to their dismay. I could tell Bucky was downright uncomfortable as his makeup artist had a hard time getting not distracted by his bionic arm; and Wanda was downright glaring at the man who kept flicking the brush on her nose.
“relax y/n, you are smart and you are friendly, you are going to ace this and trust me people are going to love you--“ Bruce said with gritted teeth to make sure no one could tell what he was saying. He almost flinched as some of the powder made into his nose and the makeup artist followed him up with a q-tip.
“My face is itchy...“ I whispered again, trying not to gouge my face out with my nails as the powder sat on the flaky part of the cheek. If this wasn’t a studio I would have scratched my face like a lunatic and ended up as someone who was attacked by a bear in the mountains. And I was glad that I was standing beside Bruce who knew how not to go overboard with the things. Clint would have brushed them off, Wanda and Bucky would have panicked, and Sam’s gestures no matter how genuine would have made me laugh.
“Wanda already told the makeup artist to spray you with Squalane, your face isn’t half as bad as it were yesterday night“ Bruce then went on politely gesturing the makeup artist to spray the stuff Bruce brought from the lab in a clear bottle, and the look on the Makeup Artist’s face was between annoyance and bursting into tears.
“Brucie...“ “I don’t wanna mess it up--“ I said nervously as we walked into the couch and settled with the others.
“Trust me you won’t... “ Bruce graciously consoled me.
The cameraman cued and we were all gestured to look into the main camera as the lights in front of us adjusted accordingly. Within all hustle and bustle, the host walked in like a royalty, and by the looks of his face and those following him with makeup and refreshment, he had a really bad morning.
“We will go on air in 3, 2 and 1”
“Good Morning America, this is your host Justin Fallon and welcome to another episode of The Early Show. Today we have with us some really special guests. You might know them from News, the murals, the comics and the Merchs please welcome our own global superheroes: The Avengers. Welcome to our show” the host said with an uncomfortable friendliness and turned towards us.
"Thanks for having us with you" Sam answered graciously, with a little awkwardness. I could understand why; it was always Tony, Steve and Natasha who spoke in public. After such a terrible loss, he is struggling to fill up their shoes for the sake of our public image. He had been wrapped up into a pretty bad controversy recently for succeeding as Captain America and it had a pretty bad toll on him—to the point his speech kind of went from cheerful to composed in an unnatural way.
 "It’s been way too long since our morning couch looked so colorful and it surely brightens up the day.” The host said with an obligatory politeness. Although the term was innocent enough but it seemed not so—I instantly froze up and million things started flying inside my head: was I looking good enough, is my patches showing under the layers of power and squalane. Turns out it was not me alone. From the corner of my eye I could sense the tension behind me from Clint and Bucky and I know it was different than mine. The host must have wanted the old team, and looked like he was stuck with the mediocre leftovers.
“Thank you...“ Sam replied.
“So here you guys are after averting the big wipeout crisis, in the quiet and chilling, so how does it feel to be in the pensive from being hyperactive all the time?“
“Well, at first it did feel kind of boring and lack luster, but slowly we are adjusting to it. With the ongoing Pandemic crisis I think we just have to adjust to the situation. In a way, I think we are all helping each other by staying inside and recuperating.” Sam answered diplomatically.
“That’s so nice” the interviewer said quite curtly and then changing the topic he sharply turned to Doctor Banner “I know of all you people Dr. Banner will find this Lockdown Leisure slightly more comforting, isn’t that so Doctor Banner?”
Wait, what was that? Was that even normal? Sam was sitting in the front and after him Bucky, then Wanda and then Bruce. Should not he come gradually? Breathe... maybe I am reading too much into this. Keep a friendly face, don’t think too much... the entire nation is watching... this is the one time I have to do things right! It’s for me, my team who housed me and my people.
I had to give props to Bruce for managing things calmly despite his claims about public speaking. He politely replied “Well theoretically it should be but it’s not like causes of anger cannot exist within the so called peaceful environment if you think about it, but I am glad you showed your concern” and like a pro, reached out to the glass in front of him to sip some water—like some real celebs in talk shows.
“Isn’t that true! So Solaris, how does it feel to be surrounded by the icons of the earth?”
I wasn’t really ready for the sudden attention. For a second I blanked out completely and gaped my mouth like a complete idiot. My stupefied face must have been quite prominent because the host tried to laugh it off lightly to divert the attention. I am still wrapping my head around the fact how some humans work so beautifully under so much attention—If I could choose between blasting off alien armies and speaking in talk shows, I will take the aliens instead.
“I..I--It’s quite fun... there is never a dull moment with them--“ I manage to utter, and thankfully it wasn’t a gurgling sound from a deep abyss.
“The thing is, being the most newest member, you sort of have a mystery around you, the kind of a Blue Comet sort--“
“Oh thank you— “ great going me, like a real talk show celeb—keep it up!
“So why don’t we break that down... Solaris, is that true that you came from a whole another galaxy which is not Milky Way?” the Talk show host asked, reading from a small piece of card.
Finally, something I can talk about all day: stars, planets and galaxy. I will have to slay this, I chanted inside and replied after drawing a breath “Yes that’s true. I am from Planet Auriga from Pleiades system. Our Sun is Alcyone, the second brightest star right after Aldebaran. You people call our system Taurus Constellation--” 
“--so much astrophysics, take notes kids they might ask you at the NASA interview.“ the talk show host interrupted. It annoyed me greatly because I could finish the words I worked so hard to speak confidently. So that’s how Bruce must feel all the time when people interrupted him when he explains things. However the host went on as if nothing happened “For a near human creature in this planet, do you identify more with the Professor X’s troop or with the Avengers?”
Near human creature? My race is literally the most Superior in all of galaxy.
“I don’t really understand what you mean...” I said as politely as I could manage.
“I mean isn’t it hard to fit in when you are the only alien in the group--“
The flippant remark was rude and I tried not to wrap my head around it. I recalled Bruce’s words to keep cool and maintain a neutral face replied : “I mean I am not the only one, Thor is also not of the earth and he is a darling to be around. Alien or not I think I have learned a lot about myself and the ways of earth by spending time with this wonderful people?“
I could hear the audience clapping and cheering with my reply. A surge of pride swept across my chest and I smiled slightly at the audience.
“How sweet--“ the host said, keeping with the cheerful mood “as the outer world people are coming into the planets, we think a lot of things are shifting, do you find it hard to cope into the earth from where you come from--“
Finally, a thoughtful question, I made a solid eye contact with the host and replied “No, the atmosphere is pretty much the same in Auriga, but I think humans can do a lot better taking care of the environment. I know for a fact that millions of planets and their lifeforms were extinct because of excesses I see on earth.”
The thoughtfulness of the host was only for so long “The girl’s been around... if you know what I mean—“ he commented with a little wink, and from the audience’s laugh I knew he didn’t mean something polite or mildly positive. After the laughter subsided, he turned again to me “I dig the midnight blue hair... it is so contradictory and yet it works“ he complimented “because you know scale and hair are not something we see very often in our planet--“ 
Excuse me, what was that supposed to mean?
“--so tell me are the lapis cascades all natural? I mean they are not dyed at all?”
“No they are not... the special keratin bond that reflect the blue pigment of the natural light but they are actually transparent—“ I added objectively.
“So that means in the right lighting you don’t need to mow the bush—“ the host said with a curved smile on his lips, and the audience went on laughing in the same manner they did moments ago.
Even under the blowing airconditioner, I started t feel really warm around my neck “I really don’t know what you mean; you are making any sense at all! Do you guys need special light to mow the bush, do you do in the solstices or during the eclipses—“  this time I didn’t hide the fact that I was annoyed.
“--she is really really funny you guys--“ the host again smiled and acted like I was a stone wall and my reaction didn’t register in his mind at all. “So you are saying you don’t mow your bush at all?“
“I live in a New York Penthouse, there is no bush--“ honestly if this wasn’t a dumb talk show, I would have taught this impudent human a lesson.
The host looked a little uncomfortable as our eye contact lasted for several seconds. He cleared his throat and went on “Okay you guys, she just clarified that there is no bush, so let’s move on to your...your look... I am so fascinated by it, it’s so reptile chic--“
What’s your fascination with cold blooded animals? Are you asking to die like one?
“Um, thanks...?!”
“So how do you manage to maintain this--“
That was honestly the last straw. This host is impolite and rude and he leeches off the discomfort of his talk show host. When this realisation hit, all my self-control and self preservation went out of the window. The vacuum was replaced by the sheer annoyance towards the host who deliberately mistreated us since the beginning.
“Do you think that’s how I live, maintaining my skin and mowing the bush--“ my pitch rose from my previous composed tone “I mean what kind of questions are these?“
The host was still wearing his phony smile on his face, but I could see the colour slightly draining off his face “No I was just asking, because the audience wants to know--“
“I think the audience is smart enough to understand that they cannot get the green skin on natural blue hair, so can you move on to a more sensible question?“ I answered heatedly and defensively at the same time, and as I spoke I felt the aura of tension shifting from discomfort to sheer panic.
“Y/n... don’t do this--” I heard Bucky whisper very faintly from above.
“Solaris, don’t get me wrong, but we don’t always get a green-skin hottie on the morning couch, don’t be offended!” he said while he gestured covertly to cut the camera on the other side. I have to give this man an applause , I could tell he had busted all his courage but he kept the face of nonchalance too good to be true—no wonder he sat on this chair for so long.
“What’s your obsession with the skin colour?—“ I said heatedly as I stood up from my seat “Don’t you dare cut the camera... don’t you dare! Do you think you humans are the epitome of beauty from which point everyone in the galaxy should confirm? I am sick of this... Everyone, I am so sorry for your wasted time but no more of this!”
“Solaris--“ this time it was Sam’s voice that implored me from the sides. For a split second I felt bad for him, because as Captain America, he would have to take the heat from the public. But I was at the point of no return. If I back out now, I would be called a pushover and I would have to endure that image for the rest of my life in the earth.
“You know what, as you are so obsessed with my looks, I would love to show you another thing of mine that is blue--”
Blast
So long story short, Solaris goes to a morning talk show, Solaris encounters a rude host and Solaris blasts him with her Blue Sun Beam. Biggest disaster ever!
The thudding outside the door would not stop, and honestly their over attention was getting on my nerves “honestly, why don’t you go away... what are you, my royal nanny?”
“Very funny Solaris... now come out and get some food--” this time it was Bucky who spoke. Although he was the shortest to reply, but it made me well up. He had the shittiest history amongst all of us: hunted, betrayed, manipulated and now sidelined—how can I see my problems bigger than him.
 “How can I... I ruined everything, all the reputation you built throughout the year, I blew it up within 3 minutes, how can I show my face to you guys! I was supposed to be the superior being--“
A moment of silence followed. But then the old familiar calm voice spoke from the other side
“y/n... It’s not about superior or inferior, you were just very very honest with your feeling! sometimes it’s good for the public, sometimes it is not. I mean look at me--I have struggling with my anger all my life and god knows the stuff I have wrecked in Hulk state. It’s okay to make a mistake... no one blames you!”
“Ha ha right...“ I replied sarcastically, feeling mad about how well Bruce understood my situation.
“Honestly, the way you acted today... Tony would have been proud!”
I could not hold myself anymore. All the feeling that has been plaguing me until now: embarrassment, guilt, confusion, sadness... all came down like a thundering rain with that one statement. I rushed and slammed the door open and jumped on Bruce to embrace him into a tight hug. At first I could tell Bruce was taken aback, but soon his firm arms snaked under my back to hold me tightly.
“I am so sorry... I ruined you all--“ I hid my face in Bruce’s shoulder. Suddenly I felt a gentle pat on my back, I straightened up and looked, it was Sam. His awkward cautionary expression was gone and he looked cherry as the old days “As Captain America, I cannot condone your behaviour, but as Sam... well, that jerk deserved it--“ he reached for his pocket and took out his cellphone “and hundred thousand people in New York agree with you“
I looked at him with a curious expression as he gave me his phone. When I looked at it, it was a tabloid video that had the clip of me blasting the host and it had—
“Stars in galaxies!... 100K likes?” I exclaimed
“And look down, there are comments too--” Bucky scrolled down from behind my shoulder to descend to the white space.
That jerk deserves it, he was literally harassing her...You go Solaris #MeToo
Solaris is so cool, I wish I was as cool as her.
Ugh, I hate that morning show host, if I was in her place I would have thrown him off the stark tower, #SunQueen
Racists never change, and We stan our color positive hero #SolarisRocks
Humans...
...
Okay, that took a lot of time because at first I didn’t know how to work on the request, then I had to go back and forth and rewrite most of it two times because I wasn’t convinced it was good. So I sincerely hope it’s good because I am freaked out as hell.
I also gave reader a name because she is inspired by an alien character in TeenTitans called “Starfire”. So I call her Solaris, and was constantly reminded of Solar of Mamamoo (TMI)
I don’t hate on Fallon, I just used his name because it is recognisable by American public and I also had to see a lot of Jimmy Fallon’s show to write about the Talk Show plot. I was also greatly inspired by Naomi Campbell, RDJ and Nicki Minaj’s interviews.
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Because Hearts Get Broken - I Know That You’re Scared (Part 2/3)
Continuation of ‘Because Hearts Get Broken’ - see my masterlist for it :)
Synopsis: She’s trying to move on. He’s still hoping for a chance
Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader
Genre: angsty, bruh, but with a sprinkle of fluff and a hopeful (??) ending
Warnings: swearing, emotionally distant mindset... can’t think of anything else, really. 
Word count: 3656
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Heartbreak isn’t loud. Y/N doesn’t even know if it had a sound what it would be like. Like glass shattering against the ground? Or maybe like a book being ripped and shredded apart, memories of time spent together ruined. Or maybe it'd like the crackle of a fire, as it slowly but surely crept up and turned everything into charred remains before it became nothing but ash and was carried away by the winds.
        No one in her family talked about feelings. If they did all they received back was ‘suck it up. That’s life’. After that, it was time to move on. So, when she got together with probably the most open-hearted person in the world, it was almost laughable.
        Y/N had always been the friend others went for advice, relationship or not, but she herself never asked for one, simply because she didn’t wanna bother anyone. Not that she thought the others were bothers. It’s just having grown up in a household where emotions were basically suppressed, opening up was quite impossible. 
       Then came Harry. Perfect, impossible, loving, sweet, kind, ridiculously open Harry. God, she just wanted to punch him because no one should be that nice. 
        January 2nd, 2020 he’d called her up, having gotten Y/N’s number from Sarah (after ages of pleading, because as much as Sarah sometimes couldn’t handle drunk Y/N, she’d defend and protect her until the very last breath), and they set up a coffee date.
        Slowly but surely, they spent more and more time together and seeing as her job had her based in LA for a while, visiting Harry was no problem. Then the pandemic hit, and on March 18th the whole stay-at-home order was issued in California. 
        Y/N was in a panic. She was meant to leave LA in ten days, and the hotel her company was paying for had been paid until the 28th. With all flights getting rapidly cancelled, she was scrambling to get one, but even her firm was unable to get her a seat. That’s when Harry had called up, his tone a worried, urgent mess as to if Y/N was alright and what her plans were.
        Of course, him being him, he immediately offered her a place to stay.
        “We don’t even need to stay in the same room, there’s like five other guest rooms you can take up,” he tried to joke, and ease her tension.
        “Fuck, Harry, just rub it in how rich you are.” Y/N cackled, and when she heard him laugh in the background, her heart did that stupid fluttery thing she’d grown so used to. 
        It took a little persuasion from Harry’s side, and reassurance at least seven more times, that Y/N wouldn’t be intruding on his space, and he was more than happy to spend the quarantine with someone else, instead of being alone, and that in no way her taking over a room or two would limit him and his own artistic endeavours. So, apprehensively Y/N packed her suitcases, grabbed an uber, wearing a mask the whole time, and drove to Harry’s place.  
When Y/N saw the gated community and the palace he was living in, the inside of her cheek was practically bitten in half. They’d barely been together for three months, and now she was basically moving in with him, but given how it was either live with Harry in a fucking mansion or walk across the country to New York, she took the first option. 
        As much as Harry loved on her, pretty much shagging her brains out every possible second, and loving on her until her cheeks hurt from smiling, the anxiety about the whole situation never left.
Harry was worried about his mom and sister, Y/N was scared of what was happening in New York. So, when the state boarders opened, immediately, although reluctantly, she flew back to her apartment and her dying plants, but never forgetting to FaceTime with Harry. But they couldn't stay away long from one another.
        Which is why they decided, given how she was able to work from home now, and Harry could do so as well, they’d fly over to one another every two weeks, quarantine together for the next two weeks, and then fly to the other place. Her boss actually loved the idea that Y/N was so willing to go back and forth between the two cities, so all her flights were written off as business expenses, not to mention when she said she wouldn’t need a hotel, he was more than thrilled to let her be in LA whenever she wanted, as long as her work got done.
        It seemed funny to her now, that before Y/N couldn’t wait to get back to the sunny state of Cali. Now when she had to fly over (which was just a couple of times since the breakup), going through JFK security made her sweat, and landing was a vomit-inducing action. And the last time she’d gotten back to the home-base state, she’d actually thrown up, Harry’s last words ringing in her ears.
        It’d been three weeks since Sarah’s New Year party, and three weeks since she’d spoken to him although he still kept calling. Every morning she’d wake up to a couple of notifications of missed calls, and each time she’d listen to the messages; it was all the same – I miss your voice. And every time she’d listen to it, her thoughts were exactly the same. You could say it was almost pathetic as to how many times she’d listened to his albums, just to hear him sing. Almost like he used to do right before she fell asleep.
        But Y/N had no one else but herself to blame for it. She’d been the one to call it quits, she’d been the one who walked out of his apartment, and the one who decided she wouldn’t fight. 
        Now, she was sat by her small magazine table, documents spread out in front of her as if a tornado had rolled through, while an apple and cinnamon candle spread its delicious scent through the air. 
        Y/N would only admit it once because, well, the proof was all over the apartment, but she was very lazy when it came to taking away the Christmas décor. It made her feel warm and comfy. And it reminded her of Harry. How when she’d woken up after their first date, already in the new year, he still had colourful fairy lights strung across the curtain rods, giving everything a soft, cosy glow. 
        He’d also been the one who convinced her that a real Christmas tree was so much better than a plastic one. 
        “Yes, it’s a hassle,” he’d said through slurred words as they’d slinked away from the partying crowd after the countdown was done, and each of them had taken three shots of vodka. “But it’s so worth it. Smells like a fucking forest in your room. Like proper Christmas!”
        And although she’d spent this holiday season alone, Harry had been right. Just like he’d been right about Y/N.
        She tapped her pen against the glass surface and readjusted her position on the floor.
        “This is the periodic table, noble gases stable, halogens and alkali react aggressively,” Y/N hummed as she highlighted the incorrect parts of the paper in front of her. “Each period will see new outer shells, while electrons are added moving to the right.”
        Just as she was about to start off the second verse, her doorbell rang, and her stomach gurgled in response.
        “Ugh,” she groaned to herself. “Pasta come to fuckin’ mama.”
        But when she opened the door, she wasn’t greeted by the Uber Eats delivery man.
        “Harry.”
        Y/N was taken aback. She didn’t expect him to visit her, especially not so soon and especially to fly out to New York (as much as he was most likely there to do other stuff as well, her gut told her he was there for her). 
Sure, she hoped that one day they could be friends, if not acquaintances, he was too important of a person for her to lose completely from her life, but that was looking like five years into the future.
        “I bring gifts.” He raised his hand where her boxes of food hung in a paper bag. “Can I?”
        “Uh, yeah, of course!” She shook her head to clear it from the shock and allowed Harry to enter into the warmth of her apartment and escape from the cold January air.
        “I was on my way up when the delivery man came in, and I recognised by the boxes it was yours.” The smirk on Harry’s face was something Y/N loved to see, but usually, she liked to also wipe it away. Preferably with her own lips. 
        She let out a small scoff, not waiting to see if he followed inside, as she scurried to the adjacent kitchen and grabbed two plates, while he opened up the white cardboard containers and allowed the delicious smell of spaghetti Bolognese as well as a carbonara waft into the air. Y/N had wanted to eat the latter at some point during the night when the munchies hit, but she supposed Harry was probably hungry as well. “Maybe there’s someone else here, who likes Italian.”
        “Probably, but only you would order from the shittiest Italian restaurant just because they have pesto and parmesan bread.”
        “Hey!” She slapped his arm. “They’re not shit. They provide me with everything I need – calories, carbs and bread.”
        “What more does a person need?”
        “Exactly!”
        Both of them let out small chuckles and then settled down on her couch to dig into the meal. They ate in silence, and despite Y/N’s initial shock, it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, they were sitting pretty much shoulder to shoulder, as she watched Harry re-read the spread-out articles on the table and use her marker to tick some stuff that could use re-wording. He had a knack for words, after all.
        “I uh…” He wiped his mouth with one of the napkins provided by the diner before clasping his fingers together and looking at the woman sitting next to him, as she slowly set her empty plate on the small cupboard beside the sofa. “I was hoping we could talk.”
        Y/N hung her head. She should’ve known he wasn’t here to just check-in and have some dinner. “We already did. Twice might I add. What makes you think this time the ending will be different?”
        “Third times the charm?” Harry let out a little laugh, and she rolled her eyes. “Look, I didn’t wanna leave everything the way I did. I – I said some pretty shit things.”
        Y/N fiddled with her thumb. ‘I had,’ Harry’s words echoed in her head. ‘Only she didn’t trust that I loved her the same.’ “Nothing that was untrue though.”
        “See, that’s where I think both of us are wrong.”
        That was not what Y/N thought this conversation would be whatsoever.
        “I – “ He cleared his throat. “I know I said I didn’t think you trusted me that I loved you enough. I think you know I did – do.”
        If Y/N still had any food in her mouth she would’ve choked on it, as she bit back the rising lump in her throat, but instead of interrupting him, she let Harry continue. “And honestly, it’s not your fault that it fell apart, ‘s my fault too. I pushed you to do something, you didn’t want to, weren’t comfortable with, when you told me not to… just because I wanted to feel important, ‘nd because I wanted to get a role in your life you weren’t ready for yet. And I’m sorry for doing that. I should’ve never forced you.”
        “Harry…” Y/N was at a complete loss. “I – I don’t really know what to say.”
        He took her left hand in his and clasped it, finally able to properly say what'd been eating away at him. “During the New Year party, I didn’t go about it the right way. I was just – I was just still so hurt, and I wanted you to hurt the same because… it didn’t seem like you cared at all, which I know you did… I know you loved me, and…” He took in a deep breath. “I hope that you still do. At least enough to give us another chance. We can take it at your pace,” he instantly added, knowing how she’d react, expecting the sigh and the almost tired and resigned ‘Harry’ that escaped her lips. But he’d say everything on his mind. “You can take how long you need to feel like you can trust me with what’s bothering you.”
        “Harry,” she repeated, but it didn’t seem like he was about to stop.
        “But I think we can do it, and we can do it right this time. We know where we stand, we won't make the same mistakes.”
        Y/N’s hand came to rest against his cheek, and he practically melted, engulfing her palm with his as to not let her touch leave his skin for even a second. “Are you even listening to yourself?”
        “Look, I know, you’re scared, and the thing is, so am I. I don’t want it to end like that or end. Period. But I do want to try again.”
        And if nothing but to humour him Y/N asked, “And if it does end the same way?”
        “It won’t.” He was so sure of it, she had to laugh.
        “Harry, the big difference between us is – you like to talk about your feelings. You like to go through them and stuff. I don’t. I feel… icky when I even think about talking to someone of what I feel. We’re just too opposite.”
        “Opposites attract.”
        “No,” she pointed a finger at him, stifling her laughter, though Harry seemed not to be hiding his smile. “Do not use science against me.”
        He raised his hands as if in surrender. “I’m not, I’m just supporting my point with facts. Scientific facts, that you can’t argue against.”
        “I mean…” Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “I dunno… Maybe it was a good thing we ended it when we did. It was ten months – almost ten – amazing months, but… can you imagine if we’d gone so far as to think about moving in together, and then it fell apart? That would’ve been a whole different kind of a mess.”
        “Do you love me?”
        Y/N sighed, resting her cheek against the couch while she smoothed away his brown locks from his face. “Of course, I do. Don’t think there will be a time in my life I don’t.”
        “Then that’s all I need.”
         “Is that really enough for you?”
        “Yes.”
        And there was no lie in that single word. Did he want for Y/N to feel comfortable enough with him that she talked about whatever concerned her, however small? Of course. But he also wanted her to be comfortable enough to be herself. If that meant her keeping things to herself, and trusting Harry to support her decisions, it’d be enough.
        Her Y/E/C eyes hadn’t left his green ones, and they only widened as he leaned forwards and pressed his forehead to hers.
        “Haz…”
        Fuck, how he’d missed her calling him that. It wasn’t an exclusive nickname by any means, but when it came from Y/N’s mouth, it was the sweetest sound in the universe.
        He was her Haz when he broke a plate, he was her Haz when she threw her head back as pleasure exploded through her body, he was her Haz when he took her hand in his to quell her anxiety, and he was her Haz when he gave her tissues as they watched a movie, and she couldn’t help but cry each time a dog or cat died (or a dragon, but he was a sobbing mess as well because ‘Dragonheart’ messed with them both).
        His lips were so close, and just as they skimmed over her own, Y/N’s phone rang making her physically spring back, eyes like saucers.
        “S – Sorry,” she stammered, scrambling to find the annoying device between the cushions. It was Sarah’s name that lit up her screen.
        “Hey, what’s up?” Y/N started, voice trembling and shaky. God, when had she suddenly gone so out of breath? And why was her head so dizzy, as if she’d just gotten off a rollercoaster?
        “Yeah, he’s here,” she replied, eyeing Harry. “Yeah, just a sec,” and Y/N handed him her phone with a quiet ‘why’s your phone always dead?’
        ‘Didn’t know it died’, he said, but that was untrue. He’d turned it off so this sort of a situation wouldn’t happen; so a call or text wouldn’t interrupt him at the most critical moment. He had to give the universe a proper talk once he was done.
        “ ‘Ello?” 
        Seconds of silence passed, and Y/N didn’t like how weird it was, so she took the empty plates and put them in the sink to soak.
        “Now?”
        She could see the frustration rise in Harry as his forehead creased, and he let a hand rake through his hair. “Fuck’s sake… yeah, I’ll be there in ten. ‘S alright,” he sighed. “Not your fault Sarah. Tell Jeff not to worry, and that I’m not dead.”
        With that, he pressed the red button and ended the call, drumming his fingers against the screen. God, he really didn’t want to leave. Not now. Not after he’d been so close.
        “Uh, work?” Y/N asked, arms crossed in front of her as if she was protecting herself from the answer. 
        “Yeah, sorry. I uh a meeting from tomorrow got rescheduled for tonight, like right now because there was some sort of an emergency from the label’s side."
        “ ‘S alright, I get it. Showbiz never stops.” Y/N motioned to the door. “I’ll walk you out.”
        There were a couple of times in his life Harry wanted to give himself a beating. Once when he was six and Gemma had told on him after he’d broken a favourite vase of their mothers, he decided to get revenge and destroy her favourite plushie. He’d never forget the tears Gem had cried, and how absolutely heartbroken she’d sounded. He vowed although he was the little brother, to never ever let anyone hurt her like that, and if someone did, they’d meet their maker sooner rather than later.
        The second time was when he was still a teenager, One Direction on the rise, and it had gotten to his head just a little bit more than it should’ve. He’d gotten really messed up at a party (which Harry shouldn’t have even been at). The disappointment on his mother’s face as she scolded him through FaceTime was gut-wrenching enough to make him promise to always know the limit.
        And Harry guessed this was the third time.
        He could’ve said no to the meeting. Jeff was there and so was Sarah and Mitch. The three of them could handle it for him. It’s not like he would mind much whatever they came up with if it had given him the time to settle things with Y/N. 
        “It was great to see you, Harry.” She brought him out from the thoughts as she unlocked the door and opened it for him, bringing her jumper sleeves over her palms to hide from the cold outside air. “Really. I – I missed you, and honestly, I’m glad we got to talk. I uh well, take care. And say hi to Sarah from me please.”
        “I – “ he took hold of Y/N’s wrist before she could turn away. “I’m holding a small concert in a week. Here in uh in New York. It’s for charity… I want you to come.”
        “I umm… I’ll have to check if I’m free, but yeah. I will. Thank you.”
        “ ‘S no problem… Sarah missed you like crazy now that you’re not in LA as often… ‘n yeah. Anyway. I’ll put your name on the guest list, so just bring some ID, and they’ll let you backstage.”
        “Okay,” she whispered and gave him a small, genuine smile. “Thank you. I’ll really try to come.”
        “Yeah.”
        And he was going to go without doing anything else. Harry truly was. But as he released her wrist, going to the stairs, he gave Y/N one last glance back, and it was like his feet had a mind of their own, as they carried him back to where she stood by the still open door, grabbed her by the waist and pressed his lips to hers. 
        He expected Y/N to push him away, but to his very huge delight, she didn’t. Instead, her fingers wove through his hair and her legs almost on instinct rose so he could take her by the thighs, wrap them around his middle and press her against the doorway. 
        The groan that Harry swallowed from Y/N only ignited the fire that’d been burning ever since he met her, but it wasn’t the destructive kind, like the ones that leave nothing but charcoal behind. It was warm. Safe. Like the light of a fairy light. Like the embrace of home.
        “Come to the show,” he muttered against Y/N’s lips, as they broke apart, and he set her down on the ground, not letting go until he was sure she was steady on her feet. “I’ll wait for you.”
        With that, he left because if he didn’t, he’d make sure Y/N would be unable to walk for a week.
        And Y/N watched him retreat while her brain fought with her heart.
        What was it he’d sung in ‘Golden’, as he’d twirled her in the sea of bodies and glitter a little bit more than a year ago? ‘Loving is the antidote?’ 
        Maybe love was the antidote to her fear.
        She closed the door.
        And smiled.
Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):
Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished
Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​
A/N: I’ve been listening to ‘Fine Line’, ‘The Periodic Table Song’, ‘Welcome to the Christmas Parade’ (Welcome to the Black Parade mix with All I Want For Christmas) and ‘Rasputin’ Boney M remix exclusively... I feel like a complete crackhead... :D
Decided to tag also those who wanted a part 2 but didn’t necessarily ask to be tagged :)
P.S. I guess there will be a part 3???
P.S.S. if you wanna be added to a tag list drop me a message :)
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inforapound · 3 years
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The Devil Inside  - Part 4
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Ugg, I did it again. This was supposed to be the last chapter but it didn’t happen. Sorry. Thank you so much for reading and your lovely comments and likes. 
Pairing – Ivar x reader
Warning – jealousy, possessiveness, arguing, me making up words 
For months your life ran more or less in the same way, that black Camaro like a waiting chariot, always ready to whisk you off.
Friday and Saturday nights were spent driving around, going to the movies or the mall, hand in hand with your gorgeous boyfriend, always ending up in his room to fool around. Occasionally, very occasionally, he’d give you a night off so you could stay at home and study.
Lunches were spent in much of the same way; in Ivar’s bed with most of your clothes on the floor. Kissing, cuddling, touching and tasting and... well...sucking. He had been true to his word, though, and despite the amount of time spent between your legs, you had not yet done the deed. In a way, it surprised you as he was so demanding for affection and you had done pretty much everything else. Made you wonder if he had his own hang-ups but some topics with him were off-limits.
It took some time but your friends were finally resigned to the fact that you were never around. Amanda going as far as to call you the person she used to know. They weren’t upset really but you couldn’t say they were thrilled with your all-consuming relationship. And it was all-consuming. You were in la-la land and when you weren’t with him, you were thinking about him; his cutting blue eyes, his gorgeous face, and wicked, sexy body. You had done things with him you hadn’t even known about so it was hard to imagine, once you did start having sex, how much needier he’d become. How much more he’d want you close. In reality, he craved you, and getting time on your own resulted in what you referred to as an ‘Ivar pout-a-thon.’ It was cute and if asked he would deny it, obviously.
At times it was difficult to understand his upset, his constant need to know where you were, who you were with and why. Yes, why was a big one for Ivar. Why did you need to do other things? Why did you need time alone? Oh, and why did you need to study at the library as he had a perfectly good desk in his room?
Love was new to him, like it was to you, and he just handled it differently. It was sweet though and you simply ignored Amanda’s jokes, when walking class to class, that you better text him and let him know you were on the move. Yes, on the outside, it would seem intense but Ivar was intense. Moody and brooding, in a constant state of internal struggle until you were there. You seemed to make everything better and with you, he seemed free; sweet and smiling, overwhelmingly affectionate, so incredibly loving, kissing, even in public, any part of your skin that showed. Always, always, always holding your hand. He called you his baby, his princess, bought you so many cute things, and kept a picture of you up in his car. Even texted in the morning to ask what he should bring you that day for lunch. And you were truly lucky as some boyfriends weren’t communicators. Not your Ivar; his messages were non-stop and he loved to talk on the phone at night too, always saying “just a few minutes more” until you were both half asleep and mumbling. He was beyond adorable, totally devoted and you felt cherished.
Ivar Lothbrok was the best boyfriend ever.
----
On that day, pulling out of school, he did not make the normal right hand turn to head to his place but drove straight and eventually into Maxwell Park. The flat-black Camaro roared on, hugging the winding road all the way up to the lookout, Ivar, as usual, holding your hand.
Killing the engine, he tilted his steering wheel up before releasing and sliding his seat back as far as it would go. Once reclined, he extended his arms out to you and you climbed over the console to lie on him. It took a moment to shift and settle so your weight wasn’t on his legs but then you snuggled in, eliciting from him the world’s loudest sigh.
“Why are we here?” you asked knowing by the strength of his hug and the deep crease between his eyebrows that his thoughts were heavier than normal.
“Where’s my boob?” was his response and you automatically unbuttoned you’re blouse enough for him to reach in and rest his hand where he liked to keep it.
The silence continued and you knew you couldn’t ask again so you waited and while doing so enjoyed the feel of your cheek on his broad chest and the smell of his neck; that perfect mix of aftershave and leather. Ahhh, his strong arms were wrapped around you and his lips were pressed to the top of your head. God, you loved having such a tall boyfriend and as attached as he was to you, you were a total leech.
But... it did feel strange that you were there, alone, so close and he wasn’t trying to grope you or kiss you or reach up your kilt. It made you feel a little insecure, in fact.
“I dated a girl last year for a bit,” he kissed your hair, taking his time, and you wondered where it was going. “Some chick that always hung out with my brothers and their girlfriends so... it seemed like it made sense. She was good-looking and stuff but, I don’t know... the whole time...it just didn’t feel like I thought it should. And she was my first. That’s supposed to make you feel something…like... how it feels with you,” he squeezed you tighter. “My brothers couldn’t understand why I broke it off but I know now that this is how it’s supposed to feel. Like it does with us. I would do anything for you. Anything. I love you so fucking much it hurts. And when we’re not together, it's like....it’s like...I can‘t....”
“Breathe?”
“Yes,” he exhaled loudly. “See baby, you know. You feel the same,” he kissed the top of your head again. “Don’t you?”
“Yes,” you whispered back, hugging him tighter not entirely sure you did; however, you did understand that’s how it felt for him, so…pretty much the same thing.
There was no question that you were in love! So much, but, if you were being honest, there was a small part of you, just a tiny part, you purposefully held back. It felt like the only way to keep a little power and not get swallowed up entirely. You still loved him though. Head over heels.
Tipping your head up, you looked at him and his eyes were shining with what looked like the start of tears and his expression was vulnerable and heart-stoppingly handsome.
Clearing his throat a few times, he looked down at the console between the seats.
“I wanna give you something.”
Popping open the compartment, he grabbed a small burgundy velvet box and you pushed yourself up from his chest to better see. It felt important.
Opening it, he held it up and showed you a locket inside. It was large and silver with a long silver chain and from the patina around its edges, you knew it was an antique. The entire thing was gorgeous.
“It was my mother’s,” he said quietly, watching your face as you picked it up, holding it carefully. “She always wore it.... even when things turned to shit with my dad. It was like...a symbol of her promise to him,” he shook his head as if just thinking about it was painful. “She wore it right up until the end like they might find their way back to each other.”
For a moment, he was silent but you could tell he wasn’t done.
“Baby,” he grabbed your free hand in his large one. “Let’s promise to never get lost in the first place? I want us to be together always. Hmm?”
It was hard to speak. You weren’t sure what to say but nodded your head, the gravity of his gift and his beautiful words filtering through, making your own tears rise in your eyes.  
“Let me put it on you,” he whispered and took it out of your hand, spreading the chain to drape over your head. The chain was long and the pendant sat low on your chest, right between your breasts and you loved that it was so close to your heart.
“Ivar,” you picked up the locket again, running your thumb over the intricate, oval surface. “It's so beautiful. So special. Are you sure you want me to have it?” You glanced up. “It means so much to you.”
Shit.
Shifting his jaw around, you watched his face tighten and his mood begin to sink.  
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“I wouldn’t be giving it to you if I wasn’t sure,” he spoke in a low, slow voice, stressing each word. “Would I?” His nostrils flared and you could see in his eyes that he was hurt.
SHIT!!!
“I’m sorry,” you rushed, “that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry.” Immediately you leaned forward and kissed and kissed him, not pulling your lips away from his until you felt his body begin to ease and let you back in. “I’m sorry,” you whispered again, hugging him harder. “I love it so much and I love you. It’s the most beautiful thing anyone has ever given me. I’ll never take it off. Never.”
As if returning to the moment, he adjusted in the seat and cleared his throat, his eyes focusing on yours again. And thank god, some of the brightness from before was returning to his expression. Brushing your bangs away from the side of your face, he kissed you softly, so perfectly and with so much feeling, before pulling back and gazing into your eyes. There were instances like that, fragments in time, even after kissing you likely a thousand times, that he still looked blown away by you. Blown away that you were there and his and looking back at him with love in your eyes.
“My mother was the most beautiful and most important person in my life. Now you are. Of course, you should wear it. It is my gift to you.”
“Thank you,” you smiled unable to look away from his beautiful, sincere blue eyes. “I love it,” you whispered.
“And I love you,” he whispered back. “Forever.”
The ride back to school, holding Ivar’s free hand did not seem close enough and so you leaned over and rested your head on his shoulder. It was then that you decided that you would call him later that night and tell him you were ready to take the next step. The ‘point of no return’ you had heard it called in some psychology book or.... somewhere. In your heart of hearts, you knew that he was the one and felt that there wasn’t anything you didn’t want to share with him.
“What baby?” he asked, side glancing down at your smiling face.
“I’m just happy.”
Kissing your forehead, he mumbled that he was too.
In truth, you were also laughing at the fleeting thought of telling him right then that you wanted to have sex but Ivar was a walking hard-on! You’d never make it back to school. Instead, you decided to wait and tell him before bed on the phone. He was going to be thrilled.
Yes, everything had fallen into place. You were weeks away from graduation, you had met the love of your life and the future felt full of possibilities. Nothing could slow you down.
----    
As expected, Ivar had responded enthusiastically to the news, so much so, you spent 15 minutes pleading with him not to try and sneak into your room. So, in the morning, as you dressed for school, it was a bit ridiculous that you took extra care selecting a pretty bra and panties to wear, knowing that they would last about 3.5 seconds on your body after entering his room. Some days, he couldn’t even wait to get home and made you take off your underwear while still en route. He loved stuff like that, evidenced by his nightstand full of your drawers.
So, at lunch that day, you were surprised when climbing into your waiting chariot that your gorgeous boyfriend looked rather serious and had two subway sandwiches sitting in a bag between the seats.
“We’ll eat here,” was all he said as he passed you your favourite veggie sub loaded with extra olives and pickles. Roast beef for him, of course.
You ate in silence and by the way he didn’t look over at you, you knew he was upset about something. In your head, you ran through your phone conversation from the previous night, analyzing what you could have said wrong, but your attention was pulled back when he started the car.
“We’re going home now?” you asked, trying to keep your anxiousness out of your voice.
He didn’t answer.
“Ivar?”
“Reynolds,” was all he said.
“Pardon?
“Reynolds,” he said again and pulled the Camaro out onto the road.
“Reynolds High? Why? Are you selling something to someone?”
When he didn’t answer, you reached over and squeezed his arm but he pulled it away and you were stunned.
“Ivar?” you mewed, sounding baffled.
“I want you to point out that guy you dated. The one you slept with.”
What the fuck.
“Why?” You straightened in your seat, confused but it was mostly dread that came over you. “Why?” you asked again, a little louder.
He still didn’t answer and it was not helping your nerves.
“Ivar!”
Inhaling loudly, he blew air out his nose as if barely coping.
“After we got off the phone last night, I was so fucking happy about today. But then....” he shook his head keeping his eyes on the road, “I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about the fact that you had done it already with someone else. It made me sick.”
Oh no.
“Why do you want to know who Adam is? “
“Adam!” he exclaimed, his voice shooting high. “Adam?” he glared over at you, repeating the name like it was poison in his mouth.
“Ivar stop,” you whined. “You knew that I was with someone before. God, it was nothing even close to what we have. Not even close.”
Stewing, he just kept staring ahead, his face frozen in the most miserable, disgusted look.
“Babe, pull over, please, so we can talk,” you were using your gentlest voice attempting to coax him down but he ignored you. “Okay, at least tell me what you are going to do once we get there.”
Still nothing.
“Ivar!” you shouted. “What are you going to do?”
“Nothing,” he sneered. “I just want to see him. Know who he is……and I want you to tell me everything you did with him. Every detail,” he looked over again, shooting you some look as if you better not even think about lying.
“What? No!” you were dumbfounded but knew he was serious. “Ivar, it was over before I met you. None of that matters. I love you so much, Ivar.”
“It does matter!” he sneered again. “As long as I don’t know the details, it’s like a secret that the two of you share. My girlfriend is not going to keep secrets with other dudes,” his voice was dramatic as if he was talking about hundreds of other guys. “It’s enough that you’ve been fucked before.”
Woah. You felt punched in the chest. In the stomach. You felt attacked like he was shaming you and despite understanding it was all coming from his insecurities, it felt like a knife in the heart.
“Ivar?” you pleaded softly. “Please babe. This is crazy.”
“Crazy? You think I’m crazy?” he chuckled, glancing over, his laugh sounding awful and his eyes looking strange. “As far as I’m concerned, you are the only girl I’ve ever been with.
Ummm….
“Ohh-kay...,” you replied cautiously, “but that’s not actually true…. is it?”
“Tell me!” he shouted again. “What did he do to you?”
“Please stop the car. I want to get out.”
This was insane.
“Fucking tell me!” he kept at you.
“Fine!” you gave in, just wanting it to end. “You tell me first then,” you yelled. “What did you do with that girl before me? The one who was good-looking and stuff,” you mimicked him sarcastically.  
“Barely anything,” he scoffed as if it was absolutely absurd that you were even asking. “She was a lump. Something that was just…. there. A body that followed me around all the time. I couldn’t cum with her either!” he announced as if that explained everything. “That’s how in-love I am with you. You make me blow my load so fast and we haven’t even had sex yet,” he shot you a sharp eye. “Your turn.”
Watching his demented expression and listening to his bullshit, you were floored. He was totally unable to see the situation from any perspective but his own twisted one. You were horrified…. possibly a little jealous and, maybe even a bit proud. It was true, you could make him finish quickly.  Sidelining the thought, you just wished the hurricane storming inside of him would head out to sea.  
“Tell me,” he snarled, “and then it will be over and we won’t ever talk about it again.”
That seemed unlikely, you thought.
“You’re the one dragging it out,” he added.
“Fine, I hung out with him for eight or nine months before anything happened. We started dating and fooled around a bit and then, well, we tried it,” you threw up your hands in defeat. “I can’t believe you.”
“Why did it end?”
“I just didn’t have those feelings for him. I just wanted to be friends.”
“How many times did you sleep with him?”
“Only a couple of times. I wasn’t... I don’t know... I wasn’t turned on. That’s it, okay?”
Apparently, it was not okay.
“Did he cum in you?”
“What!”
“Did he cum in you!” Ivar shouted.
“This is so stupid, Ivar.”
“Tell me!” he shouted again, the speed of the Camaro getting a little faster.
“The first time no, cause it hurt,” your eyes skipped over watching the needle on the speedometer rise. “It was my first time…..but…the second time he did…. with a condom.”
That was it, Ivar shrieked and punched the center of the steering wheel making you jump. Adrenaline surged through you and you were both pissed off and out of patience. Fuck you Ivar, you said in your head.
“Feel better?” you jabbed. “Glad you know. Are my answers everything you hoped they’d be? Done treating me like I cheated on you…before we met?”
“Don’t fucking mock me,” he growled.
“You know what. Pull over. I’m done. I’m getting out.”
“No.”
“Pull over right now,” you glared at the side of his face. “I’m walking back to school.”
Leaning forward in his seat, his hand squeezed the wheel tighter and you felt the car speed up a bit more.
Okay, you thought, he wanted to fight. Wanted to attack you and punish you for something that happened in the past. That’s fine, you could hit back, hard, and aim right for his soft spots.  
Reaching up, you grabbed the chain of the locket around your neck and pulled it off up over your head. Unwinding the window, you looked over at him and dangled it out of the car.
“Pull. Over. Asshole.”
Doing a double-take, his eyes shot wide and he growled, taking a swipe at your arm holding the necklace but you shifted your hand away just in time.
“Pull over!” you shouted. “Or I’ll let go.”
His eyes blazed at you, terrifyingly, but somehow it worked. Magically, he hit the breaks and swerved off the road, the tires jumping from the pavement to the dirt shoulder on the side, jostling you both before coming to a dusty stop.  
Run, your own voice screamed in your head and you tossed the necklace in his direction and at the same time pulled the handle on the door, shooting out. Thank god, there was virtually no traffic and you rounded the back of the Camaro bolting straight out into the road, across the street, not looking back when you heard him scream your name.  There was an opening in the guard rail fence and concrete steps down which you took, two at a time, knowing it led to a path that cut through the neighborhood back toward your campus. It was the very same path you and Kim and Amanda used to walk back in the days before boys and cars when everything was simple.
On you ran, not stopping when you heard him call a second time and without looking back, you imagined him standing at the top of the stairs, crutch under one arm, watching you desert him. It wasn’t until you reached the edge of the grass hockey field at your school, that you stopped and bent over, leaning on your knees, to catch your breath.
It was…. The whole thing was…. What just…
You couldn’t process it.  Couldn’t put thought to what had just happened. It was insanity and you felt a rise of emotion making you straighten and look up at the sky, your hands on your chest as if it might help slow your speeding heart. Were you going to be sick? Throw up? Were you going to cry? Scream? Nope. You stopped and.... started to laugh. You started to fucking laugh. You laughed until your cheeks hurt and your eyes watered. You laughed like a psycho who hadn’t just been accosted by her boyfriend. You laughed as if it was all one big fat game.
Maybe it was shock. Maybe it was something else…but it was hard to stop. Feeling sweaty from the run, you took off your cardigan and tied it around your waist, and headed off in the direction of school not wanting to be late for your chem class.
Not once on that walk over, with a dazed smile on your face, did you think about what Ivar would do next.
Next chapter
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residentcelery · 3 years
Text
Ok everyone, wanna hear my breakdown of Philza’s character? No? Too bad. I’m doing it anyway.
Phil as a character is super interesting because of how much he allows the fans to come up with ideas and he picks what he likes and doesn’t care about the details which gives us a lot to work with. With character analysis, you have to play the meta game a bit. For Phil, this leads us knowing that he walked into the SMP with little to no back story. But we know about Phil from SMPEarth or his hardcore series or MCC/MCM etc. NOW, for Dream SMP Philza... I’m just going over his relationships with people/places so you get a feel for what he’s about. This is all basic knowledge but I want to cover everything.  Philza is a survivalist. He specializes in PvE and has a vast knowledge of how things work but he still is good with PvP. He knows these things because he is old. He has lived for so long and he has specified that he has only ever had 1 life. He’s never died. So he has had to learn and adapt. The first thing we learn is that Wilbur is his son biologically. Pushing aside who Wilbur’s mother could be (because Wilbur is a chaos child so who ever knows? Apparently Mumza got replaced with a fridge.) That means that Character Philza had settled down enough to have a child. So it’s safe to assume that despite how much loss this character has gone through, he still is willing to grow attached to other people. But because of his long history throughout his life, he limits those people and is willing to cut people out of his life if need be, like with Tommy. He is careful who he chooses to keep in his company. First off, we have Wilbur, his son. I’m sure he trained Wilbur to protect himself and always be alert due to his life experience, but that’s not Wilbur’s style. We know Wilbur is better with his words and never wears armor because he doesn’t like it but I’m not going to get into that here. But he survived off of his strengths, his words. Phil taught him well, but Wilbur was his own downfall in some ways. L’Manburg is strange when it comes to it’s connections to Philza. Phil has said that Wilbur had sent him letters about his adventures after he ventured to the Dream SMP. He probably talked about Tommy and the Camarvan and the escapades they had up until they claimed independence. Phil may know about the battles between him and Dream until that point. Wilbur probably stopped writing letters just after losing the election, causing Phil to adventure out and make sure everything is ok. That’s all he knew--it’s a country that his son built and arrived to find it a button away from exploding by the very person who founded it. He stuck around simply because it was Wilbur’s legacy and he didn’t know the full history. He didn’t know why Techno wanted to blow it up or anything that had happened during the revolution but helped them as he thought it was best at the time. Why did he kill Wilbur? He came to find his son had lost 2 of his 3 lives and was nothing like the son who had left on an adventure. He was manic and about to destroy everything he had built. They had just fought a war to win it back and he STILL was going to blow it up. Just because he could. He wanted to. That was no longer his son. It was an echo of the real Wilbur. That’s also why he didn’t like Ghostbur or consider Ghostbur his son in any way. He was a fake imitation of what he once was.  Phil is very close to Technoblade. Philza has said that they are old friends. While it is unclear how they met, it is possible that it might have been through a fight or battle. Wilbur called Phil “Killza” which you can say is a throw away line or you can say it adds into the lore that Phil is a force to be reckoned with. Their friendship probably started on mutual respect for one another and grew from that. They both have similar views about how people try to claim power for themselves and how power corrupts and follow a sort of anarchist mindset. After learning what happened to L’Manburg and why Techno spawned withers on it, he sympathized and sided with Techno more than he did with L’Manburg. He even told the Butcher Army that he and Techno ‘go way back’. Then there’s Fundy. Phil never got to know Fundy. He showed up and was told he had a grandson. He never got to know him before Fundy ransacked his house and locked him inside. (Fundy recalls this as peer pressure but it doesn’t seem like it at ALL). He then goes to try and kill the only friend Phil has left and tries to execute him in front of him where Phil can’t do anything, attempting to use their relation to try and get information from Phil. Even after Techno’s escape, Fundy makes no attempt to help him. They did have moments where they tried to bond, but to Phil, Fundy never earned his trust or respect. He doesn’t consider him family because Fundy only really shows up when he wants something or to cause trouble. At least, that is how Phil probably sees it. At this moment, he doesn’t seem all that interested in giving Fundy much of a chance since he’s never been shown that Fundy is remorseful for his actions. Tubbo wasn't and still isn’t close to Phil. He took over the nation of L’Manburg but never really stood up and set a good example for the others (in Phil’s eyes).  Tubbo(with the help of Quackity) told Phil to give them information simply because of their status and how he lives within their walls, considering it treason when he refuses. After putting him on house arrest and watching Techno’s ‘trial’ turn into a public execution, Phil lost all faith in him and quickly left to join Techno. Phil felt L’Manburg just turned good people corrupt as Tubbo had seemingly turned violent against anyone who stood against him from Phil’s POV.(Similarly to how he feels it corrupted Wilbur.) Phil is ok with giving Tubbo another chance with a peaceful life in Snowchester. Whether this has anything to do with Tubbo’s new relationship with Ranboo and their new child Michael is unclear but it certainly doesn’t hurt. For Tommy, it’s very straight forward. Tommy showed up one day and sided with Techno after his exile. Phil was under the impression that Techno was very forthcoming with his intentions--he wanted to destroy the country that betrayed him. That they betrayed him by using him during the revolution. (Because that is what Techno believes) They were working together to help each other out. Tommy just built and took whatever he wanted while living with them. Then they went to the festival together and Techno came back alone saying Tommy returned to the country that exiled him and took the Axe of Peace with him.  With Dream, it was strictly business. Dream did some messed up stuff and he probably knew Dream was the one Wilbur fought with for L’Manburg’s independence, but Wilbur died after blowing it up and Phil was more than willing to finish the job for him. So Dream was an associate with a common goal in mind that he worked with, nothing more.  Ranboo is a bit more complicated. On one of Ranboo’s first days, Phil had rescued him from lava and Ranboo had felt indebted to him for going out of his way to help. However, Ranboo was a part of the Butcher Army against Techno but never wore the bloody aprons. And Ranboo didn’t really attack Techno (Which he saw when he snooped on the battle) Ranboo didn’t really say anything during Phil’s house arrest and didn’t sound very happy when he handed over the ankle monitor. Phil felt that Ranboo was being forced into situations so he checked on him after Doomsday, asking if he was ok and if he needed a place to stay. Ranboo has earned Phil’s trust by being cautiously honest. Phil feels that Ranboo is very timid and easily falls under peer pressure. Combined with his poor memory, he feels Ranboo was coerced into most of his situations and likes to reassure him that he can stay. He also has shown that while he is hesitant, Phil has told Techno that he feels that he can be trusted.  All of this combined really just shows that Phil lets someone’s actions speak for themselves. He believes the words of those he trusts over others. He feels guilt over what he did to Wilbur, thinking he was helping everyone at the time. He still feels that way, that Wilbur was already gone and needed to be stopped. However, he wants to bring him back, being indifferent to Ghostbur and not seeing him as his son. His only true ally is Techno, though he feels positive toward Ranboo. The only goals he currently has are toward the Syndicate, to prevent any persons or government to try and rule over others and to bring back his son to right the wrong he had done and ease him of his guilt.
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ficforce · 3 years
Text
Second Chances
Akitaru Obi x Reader SFW No set timeline Old flames
“Captain, I’m fine, really!” Shinra complained as Obi all but marched him over to the Ambulance, his forehead was bleeding badly from where he had flown into a brick, but head injuries always bled a lot. “Heroes don’t sweat over little things.
“Heroes still get concussions,” The Captain gave him a little shove toward the Ambulance, the paramedic was busy getting everything away but she turned her head once she realised someone was there.
She was already putting on a fresh pair of gloves, smiling at the two and then she paused, “Akitaru?”
“…Y/N?” The Captain was taken aback but then he was grinning from ear to ear, “How are you? I thought you’d gone off and gotten married?”
Y/N smiled back, her eyes bright as she looked him over, “I’m good – Better for not going off and getting married, dodged a bullet there… Look at you, you’re… huge, Akitaru.” The last time she had seen him he was a regular firefighter, he’d been muscular back then but not like this, he looked happier too. Checking out his uniform she made an impressed noise, “Captain of a Special Fire Force… Wow.” She was really happy for him, he had always been a hard worker and he deserved the recognition. “Were you passing by or did you need help?
“I’m bleeding to death but if you two wanna catch up I’ll go find a corner…” Shinra felt like he was invisible, he was stood in between them but he felt forgotten.
“Sorry, take a seat on the van,” Y/N let out an embarrassed laugh and grabbed out a clean cloth to dab at the blood, “Hey, Akitaru?” she called over her shoulder, “You didn’t tell me you had a secret love child.”
“I have a whole new family, Y/N. As great as Shinra is, I’m not lucky enough to have a good kid like him.”
Shinra’s cheeks blushed and he tried not to show how happy he was with his Captain’s words, “Honest, if you two want to catch up I’ll just go bleed out in the Matchbox.”
“Oh shush, it’s a flesh wound at best. Stick around and I’ll tell you some cringe-worthy stories of your Captain.” As she spoke she cleaned the teens face up a little then began inspecting the actual cut, “The first time I met him, he had the same injury like this – there was blood in his eye, down his face, the front of his uniform was covered. They rushed him into the hospital and it was my first day on my own.” She was a nurse inside the hospital most days but sometimes she was called out as a paramedic when they were short. “He broke my nose.”
“What?!” The teen leaned to the side to watch as his Captain blushed, “How?”
Obi cleared his throat and leaned on the side of the Ambulance, “It was an accident, I had a concussion so I was in and out of consciousness, I bolted up and smashed my head right into her face…”
“Didn’t they give you a medal for that?” Y/N pulled out a pack of steristrips.
“Breaking your nose?” Shinra asked
Obi was rubbing the back of his head, he looked like he was enjoying the teasing, “It was a medal for bravery, I went back inside the building to help out a friend – Think it’s the same one they stripped from me two years later. Then they gave it back…”
“You never could back down when you thought something was wrong, Akitaru. Medals and titles mean nothing if you turn your back on what’s right.”
He smiled fondly at her, “You’re not much better at ignoring that stuff either, I remember the time you threatened that Doctor in the middle of the ER. You gave him the lecture of his life, told him he could take your job but if he didn’t save that kid’s life you would destroy him,” He looked somewhat proud and Obi had to stand up straight and fix his jacket as a distraction, “You used to burn hotter than any third gen.”
Shinra looked between the two, a crease between his eyebrows as he picked up the weird atmosphere, Obi ruffled his hair as Y/N finished treating him, “We used to date, long time ago.”
“But you stayed friends?” That sounded like something his Captain might do, who could ever hate the man?
Y/N disposed of her gloves and stood with her hands on her hips, “Sort of, I ended up dating a cop and then we got engaged… then I got un-engaged.” She said it so flippantly that neither man wanted to ask further, “What about you, Akitaru? You find someone to settle down with – not that you could settle if you wanted to, you’re always busy.”
“You know how clumsy I am, Y/N, you’re the only one who had enough patience…” The Captain took a breath and looked her in the eye, “Wanna go on a date sometime?”
The teen threw his hands up, “I’m right here!”
“Then go somewhere else.”
Y/N giggled at them but she wrote her details on a piece of paper and handed it to Obi, “Maybe we won’t screw it up this time?”
– -
Hinawa watched as Obi first passed the office wearing a suit, he passed again and then stopped at the door ten minutes later in his fatigues, “Too casual, right? But the suit seems too uptight…” The Lieutenant opened his mouth to reply but Obi was gone, the Captain next showing up in an odd half casual, half formal look, “Can I borrow your cologne? And what about this outfit?” He came fully into the office and sat down, his hands in his hair and his foot tapping, “Should I do something with my hair?”
“Where are you taking her?” He continued typing on his laptop, trying not to pick up on the other’s nervous energy, “You should dress in relation to that.” He typed for a little longer, the odd silence drawing it until he glanced at his Captain, the man looked like he was going to be sick, “You don’t know where you’re taking her, do you?”
“…”
“Ramen,” he suggested, “Go to your usual Ramen store and relax, stick to casual. You used to date, you have no false persona to maintain… Just be you, Captain.” He got up and stood in front of Obi, pulling him to his feet so that he could have him remove the formal jack, it left him in a pair of dark jeans and a short-sleeved black t-shirt. “If in doubt – Flex.”
“Thanks, Hinawa…” Obi knew he was trying too hard, he was excited and nervous and couldn’t quite control himself, “I was in love with her, I don’t think I really ever let go but I screwed it up so badly before that I’m worried I’ll do it again. I should be concentrating on our mission…” He felt hands on his shoulders and he looked at his Lieutenant’s serious expression.
Hinawa wasn’t the best at talking about his own feelings but he certainly cared about his Team’s emotional welfare, “You’ve been given a second chance with a woman you love, I want you to be happy, Captain. Everyone in this Company wants you to be happy and we’ll help you in any way we can.” He gave him a pat, “And if she doesn’t like you back I can always shoot her.”
“…Please don’t shoot her. Everything else was appreciated.”
– -
Y/N grinned as she stepped into the ramen place, she could see that Obi was blushing and he was rubbing the back of his head nervously - he was panicking. He was so calm and collected in an emergency but he was so cute when he had to make public speeches and always when he chose date spots. “I was so worried you’d take me somewhere ridiculous, somewhere fancy that we would both hate. This is great.” She took a seat in a booth and he slid in opposite her, Obi looked a little less stiff and she could see the tension released as soon as she had said that.
“I’d like to take the credit but my Lieutenant talked me down - I still get nervous around you.”
“Akitaru…” Y/N couldn’t help but smile, her face warm at his honesty, “You’re still a charmer.”
They passed the evening catching up, eating Ramen and then heading to a nearby bar for drinks. It was like old times, Obi felt like they had picked up from where they had left off and the time apart seemed trivial. They had originally split up because of their jobs. Being a fireman was hard work and so was being an ER nurse, they wouldn’t have much time for each other and when they did they were exhausted and irritable. Obi was often frustrated with the limits put on him, he valued lives - not rules - he didn’t train as much back then either and he’d always had excess energy to burn.
Y/N worked all hours, she had to fight with her managers on treatment over saving money, they cut corners and she was so low on the chain that they ignored her, she didn’t want to listen to him complain when she had her own frustrations.
They had to let each other go before they came to hate one another.
Obi placed another drink in front of her, they sat beside one another, close enough to converse over the noise of the bar, “So, you didn’t get married in the end?”
There it was, she knew this was going to come up eventually and she shrugged as if it were nothing, “He had a temper, so I got out of there before it got out of hand - he could be quite frightening at times…” Y/N picked up her glass and took a drink, “Why haven’t you dated in such a long time? You must have gotten offers, women love a fireman.”
“No one compared to you,” He admitted right away, the Captain looked at her surprised expression and smiled, “I let you go because we weren’t mature enough for each other at the time, I didn’t let you go because I didn’t love you.”
He came straight out with it. The way he had always been and what she had always adored, “Akitaru…” There was no hesitation in her as the man leaned in, his lips were familiar and oddly comforting, Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut and she caressed up his jaw until she could feel the prickly short hairs of his undercut, keeping him from pulling away.
— -
Company 8 had noticed the change in Obi’s mood over the few weeks he’d been dating, he was usually enthusiastic but he was so much happier than before, it spread through them all. He was still serious about their mission but it was nice for everyone to see him taking more time to relax, “Captain, you have a visitor,” Maki announced as she stepped into his office, Y/N was just behind her but the to woman went unnoticed for a few seconds as Obi continued to punch the bag in the corner. Y/N couldn’t help but admire his muscular back, his skin was shiny with sweat and if it hadn’t been for one thing then she was certain she would be thinking about getting him alone for some fun. Instead, she was focussed on the sound of his fists hitting the bag.
The sound made her flinch and she had to remember to breathe.
“Captain Obi!” Maki called out this time, her hands on her hips as she approached him, “Y/N’s here.”
That did the trick and Obi stopped, turning around to grin at her, “Thanks, Maki.” The woman gave a nod and headed out, Obi grabbed a hand towel and wiped the sweat from his face, “Sorry, I was too into it. I didn’t think you’d actually come to… visit…” He noticed that she looked a little off colour and as he looked closer he could see that Y/N was tense, “Y/N?” He walked to her and reached out to move a loose hair from her face - immediately she recoiled with a sharp gasp. Obi froze.
He watched her hunch in on herself and lower her gaze to the floor, she looked terrified… “Y/N, what is it? What’s wrong?” She shook her head and tried to look at him, a half muttered ‘I’m fine’ escaped her lips and was followed shortly by a hitched breath, then another… and another. Years of looking after people during and after traumatising events made Obi realise immediately that she was having an anxiety attack. “Hey, you’re safe, Y/N, it’s okay. Come on, take a seat.” The man took her hand and guided her to his chair, getting her to sit and then opened the office window before getting on his knees in front of her, Obi tried to reach for her face again but once more she flinched away.
She didn’t want him to touch her.
“Okay, okay…” Obi placed his hands on his thighs, he waited for her to get control of her breathing, she was a nurse and she seemed to be trying to bring herself out of the anxious state so that she could at least take a proper breath, “Do you need some water?” At her nod he got up and crossed the room to grab a bottle, bringing it back and opening it for her, “That was new…” Obi tried to make light of it once she seemed almost calm.
“I’m sorry, Akitaru… I…I haven’t had one of those in a while…”
He told her not to apologise and remained on the floor, keeping himself low and trying to seem a little less big. “Did something happen today? Is that why you came to see me?”
“I just wanted to visit… I…” She looked at his handsome face, his warm, kind eyes looking at her with such concern, “You’ll get angry, Akitaru.”
“About what?”
He would get angry and that would just give her another attack but he should know. “Sometimes… sometimes the sound of fists hitting something else… sets me off.” Y/N sucked in her bottom lip and tightened her hands into fists, “Remember when I said my ex had a temper…?”
Obi could be slow at times, known to have more brawn than brains but this was a very simple equation. “He hit you?” It was difficult for him to keep his voice level, anger began to clump together inside him and made his body feel heavy - he stamped it down and tried not to let a single bit escape him. “I’m… you…” What did he say to her? How long did she put up with that kind of abuse? How bad was it? How did she get away? He had so many questions and not one of them would make this better and would only cause her more distress. The Captain took her hands in his and pressed his lips to her fingertips, taking a long moment to compose himself and then looking up into her nervous gaze, “I don’t think I need to tell you that I would never harm you, Y/N. I get that it’s probably really hard to trust anyone after someone you were supposed to marry, who you must have loved dearly, hurt you. But I would never, ever, ever lay a hand on you with the intent to hurt you.”
“I know, Akitaru,” she understood that completely and she felt guilty for getting so worked up over his training, “It took me so long to walk away from him, I was in denial and thought maybe I could make him kind again but maybe he was always that bad. I’m sorry I freaked out - You looked pretty sexy before I had to mess things up.”
The man leaned up to press a short kiss to her lips, pulling back to make sure she didn’t feel crowded by him, “You didn’t mess anything up… Besides, I look sexier when I’m lifting weights.” Obi took hold of the seat she was on and lifted both it and her up onto his desk, the woman giving out a surprised yell as he did, “You’re the prettiest desk weight I’ve ever seen, my paperwork will never blow away again.”
Y/N ran her hand through his hair and smiled down at him, he knew how to make her feel treasured and she reached for him to pick her up and place her back on the ground, she hugged him tight and sighed in relief as he held her - She felt safe with him.
“If the furniture isn’t back in its proper place by the time our meeting starts, I will shoot you in the knee, Captain.”
Y/N heard something that sounded suspiciously like a whimper and Obi’s embrace became a little tighter as he tried to shrink behind her. She managed to turn her head enough to see that Hinawa had entered the office and didn’t seem happy to see the chair on top of the desk or that Obi had set up a punching bag, “I’ll protect you, Akitaru.”
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artxyra · 4 years
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Healing Gotham | Part 2
Prologue | Part 1
Just hours before her schedule plane ride from Paris, France to New York City,  New York, Marinette was sitting across from her husband of five years. Luka and Marinette have been talking about this for months on end, but there was never a perfect time to enact it until now. Their eyes lock onto one another, he hums a soft tone knowing that it will calm his wife’s nerves just enough to talk or to think. While they stay in place, they don’t acknowledge the small flying gods watching them in curiosity.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks once their silent conversation concludes. Marinette visibly gulps and nods. Though Luka could tell something was on her mind.
“Yes, I’m sure. Ever since I was little, I could feel the darkness that surrounds Gotham and I doubt anything has changed even with the help of Batman. Doing it now just seems perfect. Hawkmoth is no longer a threat, our careers are decently stable, and the Miraculous Team is finely spread across Europe. Granted, the European Justice League seems to butt in every now and then trying to recruit our members…so yeah now is perfect.” Marinette responds getting up from the couch and into her husband’s arm.
Luka instinctively wraps his arms around his wife’s small waist. Maybe this would be good. Marinette would finally get closure about Jason’s death and bond with her brother’s growing family—something that they have been meaning to start on their own.
“If anything, having Tikki around could help speed up the cleansing. If not, well…” Marinette trails off not sure what to say next. Will having Tikki help speed up the process? She wasn’t even sure herself.
“Say no more, everything will work out just fine. You’re healing years’ worth of pain and suffering, and on top of that, you need closure for yourself. I know Jason’s death took a lot out of you and going back just seems wrong to you.” Luka tightens his hold on Marinette. He knows she was near a mental breakdown of her own, and he just hopes that a hug would suffice.
Marinette smiles and looks up to her husband, “You’re right this might do me some good.” Her lips brush against Luka nearly nibbling on his bottom lip.
Breaking for air, the couple smile at one another but the moment is lost when Plagg decided to make himself known.
“As much as this is a sweet moment, can someone please get me more cheese?”  The kwami of destruction moans out causing the two to chuckle.
“Sure Plagg, but remember you’re going with Luka on his tour while the others that aren’t active are coming with me, which means you’ll be on a strict cheese limit.” Marinette states before walking into the kitchen and returning with a small block of cheese. Plagg blanches at the thought of having a cheese limit. That defeats the purpose of his greatest love.
In honesty, Plagg could hear Tikki and the others somewhat laughing at him about this latest piece of news. While this isn’t like being with Adrien (his former wielder & best friend), it’s home to him.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know.” Plagg waves it away with little care in the world.
“You better keep an eye on him.” Marinette turns to Luka as if her husband hasn’t been the wielder of the black cat miraculous for years.
“I will,” Luka kisses Marinette’s forehead and turns to Plagg, “Are you coming or what?” Plagg flies over to Luka and settles down on the taller man’s shoulder.
“Well miss you bug; don’t let that brother of yours beat you down.” Marinette scoffs at the kwami before sending him a little chuckle.
Marinette looks at the time, her plane boards in just under three hours. That is enough time for her to get through the checkpoints and to her gate. She didn’t want to say goodbye, but maybe leaving Paris is a good idea—they haven’t exactly left unless it was for tours or fashion shows. Luka was going on tour with Jagged Stone and his own protégée, who he is currently the producer for, and Marinette didn't have any shows planned for weeks but visiting her Gotham branch is good. They plan to meet up in New York for the final show and then head back to Gotham depending on Marinette’s mental health stage and the progress she made in Gotham.
“Marin Etta Martha Wayne, you stay safe and we’ll see you in a few months.” Luka jokes at first but he seriously wants his wife to be safe in Gotham. Their lips meet saying goodbye to one another.
Making it to the airport was nothing. Originally, Marinette was supposed to take Kaalki but she didn’t want Bruce or anyone to question her early arrival. That and riding on a plane gives her ample time to think of a game plan and build her confidence.
“Flight 04857 to New York City is now boarding now.” A voice announces over the coms. Time really does pass quickly when someone is stuck in their head. Marinette barely would have acknowledged it if it wasn’t for Tikki making movements in her carry-on bag.
Taking a big breath, Marinette gathers her carry-on and takes her stance line to board. In less than twelve hours, she’ll be arriving in her birth city where it all started.
The flights were exhausting, on the first flight she had in front of a crying toddler (first time flying) and her seating partner would not shut up. Though there were some good moments before it all when down the hill. Then her second flight was slightly delayed. Apparently, Gotham’s airport was attacked, and this is the only flight that enters Gotham that day.
Miraculously, she managed to get into Gotham within the same time frame she gave Alfred just days before. Gathering her stuff, she takes notice of all the damage the fight did. Some parts of the airport were unavailable, and a handful of airplanes were destroyed. Seriously, how high is Gotham’s insurances for this to be an everyday occurrence? Due to regular superhero fights, Paris would be forever grateful for the miraculous cure because it saved so many people paperwork and having to replace what was lost.
After getting off the phone with Alfred, Marinette knew she had some time to spare which was enough time to grab a cup of coffee and find a nice bench in the cool weather.
“Welcome home, Miss Marin Etta.” Alfred states once the car is parked and he exits the vehicle to hug the person he has forever viewed as a daughter (or granddaughter at best). Marinette flings herself into Alfred’s arms.
“Alfred, please Marinette is just fine.” Marinette laughs before her voice lowers with the next statement, “And I missed you too, Alfie.”
They break the embrace to finish placing her three luggage into the car’s trunk. Marinette wanted to take a seat in the front, but she knew Alfred would instruct her to sit in the back, just like he did when she was little and six years ago.
“So, Miss Marinette how much of your life has changed? I hear your business MEM Fashions is looking to start a new branch.” Alfred knows everything that happens within the Wayne household but having a conversation with Marinette was always different than that with the boys. He doesn’t see her as often as the others.
Marinette’s eyes lit up, she loves talking about her fashion and retail business.  Ever since she turned eighteen, she decided that MDC no longer represents her, who she truly is, so she rebranded to MEM Fashions (or Styles) when she gained access to her shares of Wayne Enterprise. Since then she takes care of the fashion business that runs through WE, but not many people know that. All they know is that MEM is a brand that is being sponsored by WE and nothing more.
When Alfred pulls in through the gates, Marinette had to take a deep breath. There was no turning back. The moment the doors to the Wayne Manor opens, she and Alfred knew that there will be chaos before them.
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Keeping Vigil || Morgan & Eddie
TIMING: Current
PARTIES: @specterchasing & @mor-beck-more-problems
SUMMARY: When Morgan can’t carry her hope, Eddie is there to help. 
CONTAINS: body horror, discussions of death, mortality, decay
After reaching another dead end in her search for answers, Morgan broke down and took an extra long shower to get rid of her smell and wash the rough parts on her body that had been hurt or picked at by bugs. The water pattered on her just right, steadier and softer than rain. When she let it fall into her ear and make the room feel like underwater, she could hold onto the water and nothing else and the aches and cramps faded, and everything was fine. She savored the change in water temperature as it faded from hot to cool as much as the change in the sky from light to dark.
A little later, as she picked at cold fried rice and brains, the waistband on her sweats started to feel a little tight, and when Morgan looked down her coloring had gone another shade of wrong and when she touched her stomach (first in the middle, then all around) she got the sinking feeling she used to once a month: bloating. Maybe it was water damage, maybe it was just that time in the un-life cycle. It didn’t fucking matter, did it?
“Great. First I’m dead, then I’m falling apart and ripped up like a rag doll, and now I’m a dead ripped up balloon doll waiting to pop.” She thought about how she’d announce this latest development to Deirdre when she got home and decided she didn’t want to. So she made some tea, remembered all the chamomile in the world wouldn’t actually calm her and threw it against her studio. 
The mug bounced off the wall. Tea splattered the yard.
Morgan picked it up and holed herself up inside the four little walls where she was supposed to be alone. Maybe if she disappeared in a book or a playlist she could forget about what was happening to her body. Funny how she’d dreamed of feeling the world again every day for the last fourteen months; now she’d try just about anything to go numb and float off again.
As Eddie approached the front door of Morgan’s home, an unexpected sound from the backyard caught his attention. He took a few steps back and looked over the fence in time to see the studio door close. If that’s where Morgan was, it would be pointless to try getting into the main house. Admittedly, tracking her down would be a nonissue if she knew he planned to drop by, but Eddie had a sneaking suspicion she didn’t want visitors in her current condition. Be that as it may, he needed to see her. For all he knew, this might be his last chance.
Eddie reached over the fence’s gate and unlocked it from the other side, immediately re-locking it once inside. Even in his haste, he didn’t want to be the reason something unwanted took an open door as an invitation. Eddie quickly bypassed the garden that usually imbued him with a sense of calmness. Today, all it did was put more space between him and Morgan.
At the studio door, Eddie knocked only to enter without waiting for a response. The second he saw her, his heart fell into his stomach. Morgan, for the first time since meeting her, looked dead.
“I heard about what happened,” Eddie announced. He figured wasting time on small talk would be insulting at this point. “I wish you would’ve told me yourself, but I guess it doesn’t matter now.” As he spoke, he walked further into the studio. “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of people in your corner right now. Is there room for me to throw my hat in the ring?”
Morgan only managed a few minutes of stillness before she heard a knock. She flinched, dreading what she would have to explain to Deirdre, but before she could work up the nerve to answer, Eddie came in. She was so startled she forgot to cover her face. Her blue-purple pallor was growing new colors, black in some places, yellow in others. Somehow, her skin was peeling and shriveled and swollen at once. Her eyes, now clouded like frost on a window, looked smaller than they should and her lids sagged around the empty space. For a woman who would never age, she sure looked like she had outlived her time.
In the brief instant Eddie held the door open, three flies flew in and circled lazily toward her. They knew a good thing when they saw it. She should probably have been more grateful that maggots and fungi hadn’t found her yet, but the only thought she had room for was, Eddie shouldn’t be here.
“W--what? I--” It didn’t really matter how he found out, did it? “I don’t want to be one of those people that puts their bullshit on kids and makes them carry it,” she sighed. “And I don’t...know what I’m going to do about any of this. If I can do anything about this. I went through the books I had, I tried looking through some others and--” Nothing. She slumped back in her corner on the day bed and covered her face with a pillow. Then, feeling ridiculous, tossed it away and settled for pulling her legs up and hiding that way. “You should probably grab some air freshener from the kitchenette,” she mumbled.
Eddie had never seen Morgan look so small before. In the past, her petite frame always seemed like an act of misdirection. When she spoke, the weight of her words commanded attention. Her laugh charmed a sigh of relief from the world around her. Out of everyone Eddie knew, he couldn’t think of a single person he respected more than Morgan Beck. Seeing her this way didn’t change that, it only proved the severity of the situation. It was time for him to start repaying her for everything she’d done.
“Well, this kid would rather help carry your bullshit than let it bury you,” Eddie replied as he took her advice and walked over to the kitchenette. He wanted to tell her he didn’t mind the smell but lying wouldn’t make the situation any better. Eddie pulled the trigger and a clean-linen scented mist mingled with the smell of decay. It would have to do.
“So,” he continued, moving closer to her before taking a seat beside her on the day bed. “Catch me up to speed, I only know the bare minimum.” Eddie didn’t think being told the details would lead them to a solution but that wasn’t why he came here. Other, more capable people would help Morgan in that area. What he wanted to accomplish was simply to make sure she knew she wasn’t alone. Maybe it wasn’t as glamorous of a purpose as finding a cure but believed it to be important all the same. “You woke up and, out of nowhere, you were alive again?”
Morgan grimaced at the hiss of the air freshener. She had suggested it, but smelling it and knowing how little good it would do was another matter. “You might wanna go a little heavier on that,” she deadpanned. “I’m almost a week into this, and whatever is fucking with me the slow, painful way, has a year’s worth of decay to catch up on.” She let her head rest against the wall and closed her eyes. All her physical senses back, and she still had to endure this latest cosmic ‘fuck you’ in complete sobriety. No rest. No relief.
She curled up a little tighter as he sat by her, as if her death-sickness was contagious. “Uh, if you haven’t noticed, I apparently don’t need to be buried. I can decompose all by myself.” She worked his question thoughtfully, trying to find the right words for it. How stupidly excited she was for so little, and how suddenly it was a little too much.
“I wasn’t alive,” she said at last, face still buried in her knees. “No heartbeat. No warmth. I could just...feel again. The bedsheets were cold. And soft. Weirdly soft. And my girlfriend was soft and cold but different, and the carpet was...coarse and thick and plushy...it was like I’d never been on this planet before. Everything was new. The words I had weren’t enough to describe it. I spent a whole two days convincing myself that whatever was happening it wouldn’t be so bad. Some weird town thing we’d have to reverse. But then I got hurt and it took me forever to heal. And then I didn’t heal at all. And I ate, I had so many brains, but my body was shriveling up, turning color, smelling, all that gross stuff that’s not supposed to happen to me if I do everything I’m supposed to. And do you know how it feels, literally feels, to have your body dry up? Or to--” One of the flies landed on her cheek and began exploring the new terrain. Morgan raised her hand and let it, waiting til it reached her hairline where she wasn’t so sensitive. She slapped it dead and left the goo where it was. “Be food for the bugs? Because that’s something I know now. Can’t wait for everything else to go, or for whatever’s keeping me wide awake for the whole horror science show to...decide what comes next.” She didn’t want to die. She wouldn’t be this frustrated if she did. But being nothing but wobbling bones and leather and dust frightened her just as much as oblivion. She didn’t know which she was really supposed to hope for.
Eddie listened as Morgan described the past few days. At first, her condition sounded like a gift. He remembered when she told him how badly she missed being able to experience the world as a living participant. No heartbeat or warmth meant certain sensations were still off limits but, other than that, he imagined those first two days felt pretty damn good. A false sense of security, obviously. He hated this.
Morgan swatted the fly and Eddie’s lips pursed in response. “Hold on,” he announced, standing up to make his second trip to the kitchenette. Facing the counter, he tore a few paper towels from the roll and wetted them in the sink. After wringing out the extra moisture, he carried them back to the daybed and took his seat again. Eddie tentatively reached out and, as gently as he could, washed away the insect’s remains. When his hand lowered, he kept the damp wad of paper in his hand in case another decided to land on her.
“Morgan, do you remember what you said to me about hope, that it’s a choice?” Eddie asked. Of all people, he knew how unqualified he was to preach the importance of hope but he wanted to try. “You also said that to stop believing in the future is to stop believing in existing.” Even if he lacked the experience to explain the importance of looking for good, he knew Morgan didn’t. He could use her own words to help him navigate the situation.
“This isn’t the first time life’s given you its worst,” he said. “Obviously, you can roll over and accept hopelessness. Or, you can do what you do best and tell death to go fuck itself.”
“Yeah, this is an anomaly—so are you. Nothing is written, right? Don’t give up. Not yet.”
There were a lot of words Morgan had spoken in the past that haunted her now. Magic is going to save my life. All I need is to break the curse. Hope is a fucking choice. What was there to hope for when the only thing on the horizon was another shade of suffering? How could she continue believing in existence, when existence seemed to be shutting her down at both ends? Was she supposed to bone-jangle her way downstairs to breakfast every morning? Or be carried on a stretcher in so many pieces, to and fro? Or would the magic take away her mind too, and this was simply a farewell tour she didn’t have a say in? Morgan didn’t see much hope in that. What had all her suffering been for? A year of half a life, and then this?
Morgan scrubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and said nothing for a while. Then, just peeking over her knees with dead, swollen eyes, she said, “Death comes for everyone, Eddie. That’s what gives life balance. We end. We go...somewhere. Home. Even if it’s not until this planet implodes or gets struck by the right meteor. Everything is change. To stay stuck one way, that’s the biggest waste of what we have.” She shrugged. “But...stars in the fucking sky above…” Her voice drowned with held-in tears. “I couldn’t find anything about this, Eddie. I haven’t figured it out. And I don’t know what I’m supposed to imagine to hope for. And I’m so tired...I am so tired of climbing back up, of fighting the universe for one scrap of good. And right now...I almost wish I could give up. But I don’t even know what to give up on. All of it looks like giving up something right now.”
Eddie knew death came for everyone. Until recently, he clung to that fact with everything he had. Even now, his grip was only a little looser than before. Death, to him, sounded like a release. Morgan was tired, it made sense for her to want rest. A few months ago, Eddie might not have argued that it wasn’t the answer, but now he knew what loss felt like. If Morgan died, a piece of him would too. Ironically enough, the more he cared about someone, the more selfish he became.
“Lots of things that happen in this town don’t have books written about them. That doesn’t make them impossible to handle,” Eddie insisted before adopting a softer tone. “I know you’re tired. If anyone deserves rest, it’s you, and you’ll get it.” Eddie reached out with his free-hand and took hold of Morgan’s. “Like you said, death’s inevitable but it doesn’t have you yet. As long as you’re here, there’s a chance for things to get better. And—and, no, I don’t know what your pain feels like, but I know my own. Most days, getting out of bed is a fucking triumph, but I still do it; for you. For Alfie, for Bex, and Kyle, and everyone else who’s been kind to me. I don’t know what I’m hoping for exactly. Maybe I’m just hoping for hope.” Eddie paused before speaking again. “Think about that scrap of good, are you ready to let it go?” He meant the question genuinely and without pretense. “If you do, there’s no getting it back. No more garden, no more Deirdre, no more laughter, no more anything. Is there really nothing left worth fighting for?”
Morgan hid her face again as it crumpled with grief. But she let Eddie take her hand, and though her fingers were stiff, she squeezed his back. Mina had told her once that life was a curse of its own; Morgan had brushed it off as a flash of witty irony. But it came to her again now: was this living? Was crawling out of one hole only to fall into another what life looked like from the inside? She couldn’t think of a person she knew who wasn’t crawling out of something right now. The difference was only in terms of degree. When she was alive, human-alive, she had coached herself into accepting happiness as a stolen gift, a thing she would be caught red handed with and have to surrender. It would all be okay, because when the curse was over, she could have as much as she wanted and more. She could chase down every bright thing and know that however it turned out, it was fair as anything on earth could be, and she had given her best. It made her dry organs shrivel just a little more to suppose this was the way of all things, not just a thirty-nine-year blip of existence.
And yet there was no better choice before her. It was just like Eddie said. If she tried to will this bullshit to the end, she would be releasing everything she’d fought so hard to hold. And if she surrendered to the thought of an eternity of true living death, it would be much the same. The world struck no natural balance in the course of a life, and in White Crest it arched toward cruelty, and yet there had to be another horizon. These scraps of good had to be enough because they were all she had. And maybe In another week, a month, in a decade, things would be different. Magic always had a key to unlock itself. What was done might someday be undone. (Might, and with so little evidence to make it feel like anything at all.) She tried to imagine it, coming out of a stupor like sleeping beauty, kissing her own skin for holding its shape and keeping her here just enough to try and make a better balance in the world, kissing Deirdre, and the cats, and having every fresh memory from those early days to guide her toward contentment. She couldn’t hold the image very long. It burnt in flashes. Somehow, it hurt worse than either path of doom she saw. Morgan nodded and let hope in and sobbed, breaking with the weight of it.
She tried to muffle her cries with her other hand, but it was no good. She shook and soaked her sweatpants with her tears and turned Eddie’s fingers red with her grip. At last she noticed the change in the feel of his hand and let go. “Sorry. I’m...s-sorry. Um.” She wiped her face on her sleeve and tried to look at the boy. “You know you’re...a really kind, brave kid, right? And that’s why we all want you to be more careful? Because we need more of that around. We need you. And I wish you could be there for yourself like you are for me right now.” She heaved another dry sob and scrubbed her face again fighting for composure. It was always harder to show up for yourself, especially when you were alone.
“I’m not--uh, this isn’t because--” She gestured vaguely at the mess of herself. “I mean, you’re right. You’re right and I know you’re right and it’s just--” Kind of wish you weren’t. It would be so much easier if you weren’t. She shook her head, abandoning words in favor of meeting his gaze. What she didn’t know how to say was this: it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, holding out for hope and hoping for its own sake. But Eddie knew dark almost as well as she did; maybe he would know this just by looking at her, too.
When Morgan broke down, Eddie knew he’d struck a chord. He could only hope that meant something good and that he hadn’t made things worse. Her grip on his hand tightened exponentially but the pain barely registered. All he could focus on were her anguished sobs—he wondered how long she’d been trying to swallow them. Despair like that didn’t come to term in an instant. It laid in wait, brewing and accumulating more grievances both big and small until it could no longer be contained. If he had managed to help her rethink the release of death, maybe a release like this one would suffice for now.
“No, no, it’s—” Eddie’s dismissal of Morgan’s apology cut off when she spoke again. His expression slowly relaxed, brows raising in gentle surprise. A few people had called him brave now but he never seemed to get used to it. After spending so much of his life in hiding, he didn’t think he deserved that kind of praise. At the same time, he wanted to believe he was wrong. Eddie smiled sadly at Morgan. “One day, maybe. It’s a work in progress.” He didn’t know what to say about being needed but he tucked the compliment away somewhere he could find it when he lost sight of what mattered.
What she said—or, more accurately, didn’t say next resonated exactly as she expected it to. “It feels impossible, doesn’t it?” Eddie asked before his smile returned. “Kind of like when you’ve been in the dark for so long your eyes adjust to it and suddenly a light comes on and blinds you.” He gingerly rubbed the back of her with his thumb. “We’ll adjust to the light the same as we did the dark, just gotta give ourselves some time.”
Morgan nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Slowly, she unfolded her legs. There wasn’t much of her left to hide, and the second fly was already crawling along her skull. She thought about what Eddie said when it came to the light and the dark, and wondered how long it would take for her vision to get screwed up from so much back and forth that everything hurt. It would have to be a long time from now, wouldn’t it? She would have to make it that way.
After what seemed like a long time she said, “You know, for someone who lumped in hope with the evils of the world, you’re getting pretty good at being hope’s cheerleader.” Then after another silence, “You don’t have to stay with me though, okay? I’m not gonna go off the deep end, or do anything I shouldn’t. Deirdre will probably be home soon anyway.” Time had a way of moving funny when you were miserable, something Eddie was probably familiar with too, but the last thing she wanted him to carry was more worry about her. She nearly reached over to pat his arm, reassure him in a performance of her good ol’ self, but she remembered how she looked and let it fall empty instead. “Thank you though,” she said quietly.
Since Eddie last gave Morgan his opinion on hope, a lot had changed—was still changing. He didn’t find comfort in misery as much as he used to. Now, he understood happiness took a little elbow grease and that brains need to be re-wired every now and then. Some days were harder than others, he didn’t always believe his positive affirmations, but he was trying. For himself and everyone he loved, he was trying.
“When you’re wrong, you’re wrong,” he said with a shrug. “I thought I might as well give your outlook a shot. It’s going pretty okay so far.”
When Morgan next spoke, Eddie considered her carefully. He didn’t want to linger if she needed time to decompress but he also didn’t want to risk leaving too soon. Finally, he said, “Okay, if you’re sure.” Eddie stood up and took a deep breath before turning to face her. “If you need anything, anything at all, call me. I don’t care what time it is. I know it sucks to feel like you’re weighing people down but I love you, Morgan. I like helping you.” He leaned down to wrap his arms loosely around her. “Don’t ever feel like a burden.”
“I love you too, Eddie,” Morgan whispered. “Go on now. Be good and I’ll see you soon.”
Eddie straightened up and walked over to the kitchenette to toss the wadded up paper towels in the trash. Afterwards, he headed for the door. “See you soon,” he said, glancing back at Morgan before taking his leave.
11 notes · View notes
staticscreenwriting · 4 years
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California Summer - B.H. Smut [two]
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Synopsis: Kings Cove California is Billy Hargrove’s hometown. It’s also a popular summer vacation destination for rich couples and their spoiled kids. (Y/N) is one of those rich girls. Proper, sweet, innocent. Only that all bores her to death and Billy is just the adventure she’s been looking for. It’s all fun and games. A summer fling. Not strings attached. Right?
Inspired by the song “Young & Dumb” by Cigarettes After Sex.
Part 1
A/N: There is smut in this, babes. Please if that is not for you, don’t read it. Also do not interact if you’re under 18, that’s just not cool. Kay, thanks ♥
[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]
The air is hot and sweltering on Tuesday. A blue sky filled with thick grey clouds. There’s a sizzling in the air. A promise of rain. A promise of a storm. 
Billy steps out of his car and onto the white gravel driveway of the (Y/L/N)’s holiday estate. It’s a grand house. These people are rich and they want you to know it. Nothing is subtle or modest. It wants to be seen, to be stared at, to be wanted. This house demands your attention. Thinking about it, Billy thinks it’s fitting that (Y/N) lives here. She too, demands people’s attention. Undivided. 
He steps up to the door, his black polo shirt proudly displaying the “ Franklin and Company cleaning and maintenance service” logo in his right chest. Mr Franklin said company uniforms are a good way to increase the team spirit. Billy suspects it’s just another way for those rich assholes to further distance themselves from peasants like him. 
The doorbell chimes up in some melodic little tune. Even the god damn doorbell is over the top. A deep disdain settles inside Billy’s bones, takes residence in his heart. He wonders if those people truly know what suffering means. He wonders if financial stability and a luxurious lifestyle can soften the blow of a heartache. Wonder if he’d still be this bitter, if his heart would still feel this heavy, if he was the one living in a house like this.
When the door swings open, Billy is greeted by Mr. (Y/L/N) and his smile that’s just too big. There’s a certain size a smile should have and his smile exceeds that size. It’s unsettling. With his bright white teeth and the moustache, he looks like some kind of cheesy 60s Batman villain. 
“ Hi, Billy. Good to see you. So here’s the thing — “ he then starts to proceed a dramatic monologue about the broken filter system of their pool. Billy only half listens, his mind wandering through the halls of this mansion. He wonders if she’s home. Wonders what her room looks like. Wonders if she can still feel his lips on hers. Taste him. Feel him inside her.
As they walk through the main living room, Billy’s eyes fall onto a picture on the mantlepiece of their elaborate fireplace. (Y/N) smiles brightly back at him from the photograph, draped in a long white dress and long opera gloves. It almost looks like a wedding gown only she looks way too young in this picture and there’s no husband to be seen. She smiles so big, so radiant but there’s something in her eyes. The same riddle he’s tried to figure out that day he picked her up in the rain. A kind of sadness that is both so familiar, and so foreign to him. 
“ Joan and I are gonna be out all day but if you need anything, my daughter (Y/N) should be around. She’s a nice girl, I’m sure she’ll be pleased to lend you a hand. “ 
Billy has to stop himself from choking on his own spit. If only this man knew what his girl gets up to when dad’s not looking.
“ Alright, that’s fine. “ 
“ Good. Good. Now if you’ll excuse me. “ 
“ Sure, yeah. Have a good day.” 
Mr. (Y/L/N) walks back towards the entrance hall, this house has a goddamn entrance hall. A second later his wife steps up next to him, big floppy hat on her head, fancy-looking silk scarf around her neck. That one probably cost more than Billy pays in rent every month. 
The way the interact makes him feel uneasy. There’s no affection there, no kindness. It all is very stoic and structured and empty. He wonders if rich people are all this hollow, if it comes with the territory. If maybe there are certain expectations put on you when you’re loaded and to fulfil those you have to lose part of yourself in the process. 
“ Bunny, we’re off “ (Y/N)’s father yells up the stairs to be met with her voice calling down a disgruntled “okay” a few seconds later. 
Bunny. They call her bunny. This day is getting better and better. With a smirk on his face, Billy grabs his tools and drags himself out towards the pool into the hot California sun. 
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The filter is fixed in a matter of minutes, then he cleans the pool, mows the lawn, scraps dirt out of the rain gutter. All while the hot sun is beating down on him, burning his skin and making him sweat. What he wouldn’t give for a bit of rain or a dip in the ocean. 
Just as he’s packing up his tools, a loud banging sound from the inside catches Billy’s attention, followed by a string of curses. There’s no doubt in his mind it’s her. Her voice still fresh on his mind as she whispers dirty words into his ears while he dreams.
Rounding the corner, he catches sight of her, sitting on the bottom step of the stairs, rubbing her knee and contorting her face in a display of pain.
“ Are you okay? “ 
“ Yeah, just tried taking two steps at once and uh — didn’t go so well, “ (Y/N) replies as she gets up and dusts herself off.
Whenever Billy thinks of her, his mind always wanders back to that first night he caught sight of her. Her flowy skirt, the flower in her hair, the too big denim jacket. Something about her then looked almost ethereal. Like she didn’t belong with anyone around her. Like she didn’t belong to this place. To this earth. 
Looking at her now, Billy almost can’t believe it’s the same person. She’s wearing cut off jeans shorts, socks with that frilly lace stuff stick out from her beat-up tennis shoes and the I ♥ New York shirt that’s draped over her body is at least two sizes too big and has no doubt seen a few years pass already.
“ Look at you, Mr. Polo shirt! “ 
“ Stop! “ 
“ It’s cute! “ 
“ It’s company policy.” 
“ Aw no, does it limit your freedom for self-expression? “
“ Why are you taking the piss? I saw the picture on the fireplace. Cute wedding dress. Prom? “ 
(Y/N) does that thing that’s neither a scoff nor a laugh and yet both at once. She walks up to the fireplace and takes the frame in her hands. There it is again, the sadness in her eyes. Even though she’s smirking there’s a fundamental sadness so deeply engrained in her beautiful eyes that Billy almost regrets having mentioned the photo.
“ Not prom, goof. My cotillion” 
“ Your what now? “ 
“ My debutante ball. It’s a formal presentation of young women to introduce them into society. “ 
“ Sounds like a cattle auction to me. “ 
This time she fully scoffs, no laughter or smirk anywhere in sight. “ You might have a point.” 
“ So what they like, offered you or — “ 
It’s such a strange concept, Billy isn’t even able to wrap his head around it. A formal presentation of young women already sounds wrong. Just thinking about her being paraded around leaves a sour taste on his tongue.
“ Kinda yeah. I mean it’s nothing sexual or anything but uh — well. There’s a bunch of girls in matching dresses who all get introduced individually. They put a real emphasis on who your parents are so people are immediately aware your family is loaded. Then the dad’s guide the girls across the stage and hand them over to the escort. Usually, an equally rich male around the same age who’d be a wonderful addition to the family. Then there’s this specific curtsy every debutante has to perform …” 
“ Are you fucking with me right now? “ 
“ Absolutely not. It’s a real big deal. They have a serious committee and everything.” 
“ Well you look miserable in that picture. “ 
“ Oh I was. I didn’t wanna do it in the first place and then my dad also told me that I couldn’t have my boyfriend at the time be my escort because apparently he wasn't good enough or his family wasn't prestigious enough. I really liked that boy too. I was so sad. “ 
“ Why’d you do it then? “ 
“ Well all my friends did it and then dad also pulled the mom card so — “ 
As those words fall from her lips, her eye glass over a little, as if she just started dreaming or let her mind wander someplace else. Billy always felt like it was weird, the way he observes people, the way he notices things. But when you grow up in a house that’s so loud and so angry, you start to notice the quiet things. It’s a survival instinct. Noticing the little things can save your life.
“ The mom card?” 
“ Yeah. Said my mom always wanted to see me as a debutante. Said I should do it to honor her memory. Even had her own cotillion dress shipped in from my grandparents place to use the fabric for mine. “ 
Dead mother. There it is. One little puzzle piece to slide into place. A step in the right direction in figuring out the riddle that’s her mind. Dead mother. It’s not a pain he knows but one he can imagine. His own mother was the best person he knew, an angel in his eyes. He loved her more than he ever loved another person. Then she left and ripped his heart straight from his chest. Maybe he doesn’t know what it’s like losing your mother to death but he does know what it feels like having a mother one day and then not having one the next and feeling so terribly alone in the world.
“ So Joan’s not — “
“ She’s my mother too. Mom died when I was 6, dad and Joan married when I was 10. She’s been in my life not longer than my mother was. I love her so much but I also miss my actual mom. “ 
He doesn’t know what make the words fall from his mouth so easily, as if they don’t weight a million tons on his heart. But something tells him that he can be honest with her. Maybe it’s a certain comfort that two people can only find in shared pain. 
“ My mom fucked off when I was 9. Just up and left, to be with some guy she’d met at her job as a waitress. A fucking dentist of all people. Haven’t seen her since. “
“ Fuck, that sucks. “ 
“ Yeah it’s whatever.” Billy shrugs. It’s not whatever and they both know it but it’s one thing to tell her about his mother, it’s another to open up his entire chest and let her see all the cracks in his heart. That’s a vulnerability he’s not willing to show her. 
“ Well this is turning into a gloom-fest, huh. Do you wanna get outta here and do something? “
He really does. The heaviness on his heart feels suffocating. Like someone is squeezing his chest, breaking ribs in the process.
“ Sure. What’s your plan?” 
“ No plan. How about the beach? “
Billy smiles at her suggestion. “ Sounds good. “ 
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“ Man, your car is clean. I didn’t even notice the first time. “ (Y/N) remarks as the drive along the sleepy town of Kings Cove. The windows are rolled down and a soft wind sweeps through them, making (Y/N) hair fly around her face. Her feet are kicked up on the dashboard and her red lips are pulled into a teasing smirk.
“ It’s my baby, I like it when she’s clean. “
“ She? “ 
“ Mmh.” 
“ Does she have a name? “
“ No. You wanna make a suggestion?” 
“ Hmmm how about — (Y/N) ?” 
“ That’s your name. “
“ It’s a good name !” 
“ Not naming my car after you.” Billy chuckles.
“ Okay. How about Lilly? “ 
Billy shrugs. Honestly, he has no interest in naming his car but if it makes her happy, he might as well entertain the thought. “Sure, fine with me.”
She’s quiet for a moment before she speaks up again. “ You wanna know what Lilly needs? “ 
“ No. “ 
“ Some decor. Some personality. Like some dice hanging from the mirror or — or a dashboard dancer. Like a hula girl. “ 
“ Absolutely not. “ 
(Y/N) gasps “ I know! A dancing Elvis. You know the ones! You need one of those. “ 
Billy has to wince at the thought of a cheap plastic figure vaguely resembling Elvis stuck to his front window so it can dance on the dashboard. 
“ Or I could not do that. I like my car the way it is. Thank you very much. “ 
(Y/N) just smiles and maybe that’s enough for right now. There are more secrets hidden in the corner of her lips, in the glint of her eyes, in the way the sun falls on her face. But those can stay there for right now. All that matter in that moment is the cheesy Don Henley song playing from the stereo and the red of her fingernails tapping along to the beat and the way life feels weightless then.
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“ This is so beautiful. “ (Y/N)’s words are hardly louder than a whisper. Her voice is overtaken by a peaceful sense of awe and admiration. Her bare feet are buried into the still warm sand as the sky around them shines in hues of pinks and oranges. 
“ I can’t believe you get to see this every day of your life. You can just decide you want to watch the sunset over the ocean and do it. “ 
Billy shrugs as if it’s nothing when in reality he knows exactly how much this really means. Living in Hawkins, away from the ocean and his home and his heart, it made him realise how much he really loves this place. How his heart will forever be bound to the sea and the waves and the freedom it gives him. 
“ I guess it’s pretty cool. “ 
“ You guess? Billy this is — this is spectacular. Sitting here and just taking it all in makes me feel fearless and invincible and brave. Like the world is so big and vast and there’s so much still for me to discover and experience and I can actually do it. “ 
“ What’s stopping you ? You got all the money in the world. “ 
He wonders if she can hear the spark of resentment that his voice carries. Billy doesn’t put it there on purpose, it’s just something so deeply edged into his genetics it’s hard to get rid off. Life’s hard for everyone, he knows that. The logical part of his brain does. But being financially stable surely helps soften the blow.
“ Not if you ask my parents. They’re just waiting for me to find a suitable husband whos family is at least as rich as mine if not richer. Then settle down in a nice big house, pop out a few kids — be miserable forever. “ 
He doesn’t know what to say to that. There’s a certain familiarity in her words. Billy knows exactly what it feels like being stuck in a situation that makes you miserable and to feel like you will never get out of it. Even though both their situations couldn’t be more different, there’s a shared sense of captivity. 
“ I’m sorry, I’m being a huge whiny bitch about this. Poor rich girl with her rich girl problems. “
Though her words are meant to sound airy and light, they are all but that. There’s a heaviness to them. A sincerity. 
“ Don’t be stupid. This is your future. Your life. You get to bitch about it. If not about that then what about? “ 
Billy succeeds in making her crack a smile. A small success in the grand scheme of things, but a success nonetheless.
“ What would you wanna do? If your parents had no say in it ? “ 
Her sight settles on the setting sun, her chest heaves with big breaths. As if she’s trying to catch the moment in her lungs and keep it there forever.
 “ Last year I started studying photography in New York. My parents thought I was working an internship at a family friend’s firm. I wasn’t. When they found out they made me drop out and come back home. That’s why I wasn’t around last year. That’s what I wanna do. But my parents they are — my dad grew up during a time when art wasn’t a career that could really put food on the table. He’s a businessman, a hard worker. He sees numbers before anything else. And I don’t think he’s doing this to be mean or anything. It’s just what he knows. Dreams were not something he could chase and survive it. It was eat or dream. I think he wants to spare me that life. I just wish he would take the time to even as much as look at my pictures. They’re good. “ 
“ You should show me some. “ 
To be quite honest, it’s not about the pictures. Billy has never been a particularly artsy person nor does he care for photography. But this is important to her, this is where her heart is. No one has ever believe in him, he knows the empty feeling that comes with that realisation. If he can be the one person to show her that her dreams and her talent matter, then it’s worth it.
“ Yeah? “
“ Sure, why not? “ 
“ Alright, I will. Think I can mix in some naughty ones. “ 
Billy raises his eyebrow. “Oh really? “ 
“ Mmmh.” 
Her lips don’t taste like slurpee this time. They taste like summer heat and salt and warmth. A little like cigarette smoke and mint chewing gum.
Her fingers tangle in his locks, tugging deliciously as her tongue curls around his. It’s softer than the kisses in his kitchen, not fueled by lust but by a shared comfort in each other. 
“ What was that for? “ he asks as they pull away, far enough to talk to each other but close enough to breath in each other’s air. 
“ For listening. And for — caring.” 
Billy’s lips decent back on hers, then her cheek, her neck. Her skin feels soft and warm underneath him. He can feel her pulse quickening as he softly sucks at the delicate spot where her neck meets her shoulder.
“ You can’t leave hickeys!” 
“ Why not? “ he murmures against her.
“ Got this thing at the country club in a few days. My dress doesn’t have a turtleneck. Dad’s gonna kill me if he sees it. “
Of course her family frequents the country club the town over, it’s so fitting. Billy’s been there a few times, tending to their greenery and fixing stuff. It brings good money and he got to eat their for free which was nice. But looking at all the rich people in their fancy clothes drinking champagne by the pool was — strange. Johnny works there as a waiter part time and always has the most ridiculous but funny stories to tell.
“ Aw, daddy’s little girl not allowed to kiss boys? “ Billy mocks, not making any attempt at moving his lips away from her neck until she nudges him off and pushes him down onto the warm sand.
“ Oh I do more than just kiss them. “ (Y/N)’s voice is laced with lust and passion and sultriness.
Soft warm kisses wander down his neck, as her hands leave trails up and down his stomach underneath his shirt. In a swift motion she pushes the fabric up, to pepper gentle kisses on his chest, his stomach, down to the edge of his pants. 
Billy can feel the blood rushing through him, can feel the adrenaline flowing through his veins. A tingling sensation builds up. Is there anything better than a girl sucking you off with the sun setting over the ocean in the background? Not really, he’s fairly sure about that.
(Y/N) hands fumble with the zipper of his jeans before she pulls them down just enough for his dick to pop out. 
The way she looks up at him, eyes filled with a mixture of mischief and innocence. The way she bites her lip in anticipation — it kills him. This is his day of reckoning. This is the end and god does he love it.
Billy is fully aware of what's happening as she swirls her tongue around the head of his dick but his mind is swimming, his heart is pounding. Maybe it’s her or maybe it’s the moment, he doesn’t know. All he does know is that sometimes life can be real fucking sweet. Especially when your cock’s soft and warm in a pretty girl’s mouth.
She hollows her cheeks, goes fast then slow, moves her hand along her lips in a perfect rhythm of pure lust. It’s wet and warm and tight and perfect.
An alternating pattern of kitten licks and deep strokes drive him crazy. She swallows around him like the goddamn patron saint of sucking cock, takes him so deep he’s fairly sure they should grant her some award for it.
When he feels the tidal wave of passion crash onto him and pull him under, drown him in ecstasy, he buries his fingers into her hair, pulls her closer, moves his hip faster — fucks her mouth. And she moans, every once in a while looking up at him with those eyes — those damn beautiful eyes. And there’s a smirk playing on her lips, around his dick, every once in a while. She enjoys this too and that’s what sends him over the edge.
Billy cums just as the sun sets behind the horizon, that one moment when the world is pure gold. He doesn’t see that though, doesn’t realise. All he sees is her eyes and her smile and the way she wipes her lips and all the riddles he wants to solve that live in her heart and all the things he wants to explore with her.
“ You’re welcome.” she says and giggle as she crawls back up to lay beside him, propped up on her elbows, eyes set on the horizon.
“ Uh-huh. “ Billy’s mind is still hazy, words can hardly form least of all make sense.
“ I can’t believe you get this view every day. “ 
He’s not sure whether she’s talking to him or to herself, maybe a little of both. What he’s sure of though, is that his view is much nice right now. Her, free and wild and — beautiful, sitting and watching as the world turns pink and orange and gold for one last time before nightfall. 
It’s quiet for a moment as they catch their breath, as she takes it all in and Billy tries to shake off the fogginess in his brain. It’s quiet and peaceful and safe and comfortable. 
And then she speaks up again.
“ You should come to the country club thing. “ 
And his heart sinks because — absolutely fucking not. 
193 notes · View notes
overly-b · 4 years
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What We’ve Been Missing - Pope Heyward
In which Pope has his first time. 
Warnings: sexual content! swearing, i think thats it.  Word Count: 1.8k  Authors Note: Here it is folks! The last part to this tiny little Pope series! I’ve really enjoyed writing this and exploring writing for Pope and honestly, I would love to write more Pope stuff! Send me Pope requests!! I love you all! 
Sexual content under the cut!
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original gif by @auriants 
It had been months since you and Pope had started respectively going down on each other, and it had been months of bliss. 
After the first few weeks, sex was brought up, and it was decided that the two of you were not ready to take that step yet, but as time had gone on, and you had grown more comfortable with the sexual aspect of your relationship, sex became a more pressing topic. 
As Pope became more confident in bed, he also became more confident in terms of talking about sex with you. Sex was now the point of many of your conversations. You had talked about how you both feel about sex, where you think you will have your first time together, positions in which you would like to explore. Anything and everything, you two had discussed it, and the more you did, the more clear it became that sex was no longer a question of if, but when, whenever the best opportunity arose. 
It was another beautiful day out on the water closing with the orange glow of the setting sun. You and Pope had been slyly teasing each other all day long. 
Another thing to come along with exploring things in bed as well as Pope newfound confidence, teasing, all the damn time. Pope teased you whenever, and where ever he could. With the Pogues, with your parents, with his parents, in the van, on the boat, anywhere he could. 
You and Pope had been messing with each other all day. Finally, you managed to break away from the group and ended up at Pope's house. The instant you were in the door you had your hands all over him. You made your way to his room, where you rid yourselves of clothes and proceeded. 
“I wanna have sex.” He blurts out in between kisses. 
“What?” You laugh at his sudden statement. 
“I mean, uh,” He begins to retract his statement. “If you want to, too, of course, and we don’t have to-” You cut him off with a kiss to his swollen lips. 
“I want to,” You tell him through your lips as they touch him. “I would love to. I just want you to be ready. It’s your first time, do you think you’re ready?” 
“Absolutely. I love you and I want to do this with you.” 
“Amazing, and I love you too.” You smirk, place a chast kiss on his lips. It was clear that Pope was nervous, but his new found confidence hid his nerves decently well. 
He knew this time that he didn’t have to question or doubt anything. You loved him and he loved you. He knew he wouldn’t last very long, and that it probably wouldn’t be the best sexual experience of your life, but he had your past speeches in his head. 
Nothing with us could ever be bad. It’s okay for it to be new. We will learn together. 
These assurances in his mind, and you naked in front of him was all that he needed to know that everything was going to be fine. He was going to have sex with you. 
His sexual knowledge based on his conversations and experiences with you told him that he probably wasn’t going to make you cum from sex, at least not this time. So he went down on you first, allowing you to cum and be ready for him. 
Once you had come twice, and were wet and prepared, be made his way up your body, kissing you deeply. 
“How do you want it babe?” You ask him as he pulls away. 
“Um, I’m not sure honestly.” This is when his nerves came out, he trembles as he spoke. “Whatever you think would um, be the best,”  
“Hey, look at me,” You take his face in your hands. “It’s okay, I have an idea okay?” 
He nods, allowing you to move out from under him. You grab a condom from his bedside table, you both had bought a box for your bedrooms to be prepared. You help him put it on, and he groans softly as you roll it onto his hard length. You press your lips to his, adjusting to straddle him. He sits up, not breaking his mouth from yours. 
“You okay?” You ask him, looking into his chocolate brown eyes which were dilated widely. 
“More than.” 
“You ready?” 
“Extremely.” He replies in a very Pope fashion. 
“Okay,” You go back to his lips. You reach down, taking him in your hand and pumping him a few times. Settling around him, you press his tip to your entrance, and slowly sink down into his lap. 
“Holy fuck.” He groans, tilting his head back in pure bliss, you took this opportunity to kiss his neck. Pope knew that he was a goner. He would never tell you this, but he had been attempting to strengthen his stamina in preparation for this moment, but nothing could have ever readied him for the way that it felt to be inside you.  
You were tight, and warm, and better than he ever could have imagined possible. 
His hands found your hips, holding you as your hips connected and he was fully sheathed within you. You let out a small whimper too. It had been a while since you had sex, and the feeling was an adjustment. 
“Are you okay?” Pope asks you, no matter how blissed out he was, he also wanted to make sure that you were comfortable. You were still his top priority. You nod to him, signaling that you were in fact okay. 
He was still sitting up, so you wrapped one of your arms around his shoulders, and took his face in your hand with the other. You both stand still for a moment, relishing the feeling shared between the two of you. 
As you begin to roll your hips, he presses his face into your neck, kissing it and nipping at your delicate skin. The abnormal feeling subsides quickly as is replaced by waves of pleasure. You helped him lay back, chest still flush against his and you began bouncing your hips, snapping them against him. This insited a lustful moan to tumble from his lips. 
“That feel good Popey?” Your sinful tone filled his ears making him even more turned on. 
“Fuck I’m not gonna last very long.” He admitted, but you already knew that. They never last the first time. 
“I know baby, that’s okay.” You tell him truthfully. You sit up, now postured tall over his laying body. His hands grip your hips again, running from your hips, down your legs, up to your bouncing breasts, and back to your hips again. It was as if his hands were attempting to memorize every smooth curve of your figure. 
Your hands were on his chest, steadying yourself as you moved faster. You felt yourself slowly building up to another high, but doubted you would get there due to the limited time that you had. You smiled to yourself, knowing that Pope made you cum beforehand because he knew he wouldn’t last long.
“Fuck this feels so good, you feel so good.”
“You’re doing so well for me Popey.” 
Pope stops your movements by flipping you over, a new and interesting glint of lust in his eyes. He kisses you harshly and looks into your eyes, almost asking for permission to continue in this position. You nod rashly, and he begins thrusting into you. You moan loudly as he takes over the work you were once doing. You were surprised at his sudden dominant action, however you loved the fact that he was allowing himself to take over, rather than allowing you to be in control the entire time. This told you that he was comfortable enough to not constantly question himself. 
You wrap your legs around his waist, wanting your bodies to be as close as they possibly could. His thrusts were slow and loving, taking his time with each stroke of his hips. Your moans were music to his ears, and he treasured the fact that he was getting such a reaction from you. Your reaction drove him to plunge into you in more rapid motions, moving his hips up and down in a more rushed fashion. 
The change of pace surprised you, causing a gasp to catch in your throat.
“Fuck Pope” Your hands grip at his shoulders and back, he was hitting your spot now. 
“I”m so close.” He tells you gruffly. 
“Let go baby, cum inside me.” 
A few more deep thrusts and he was coming undone within you for the first time. The feeling was euphoric. 
You kissed him, muffling his sounds as he rode out his high, spilling into the rubber. Your ankles locked around his waist, holding him in place as he was milked dry. He did his best to hold himself up over you, but collapsed a good portion of his weight on you as he regained his breath. 
You place gentle kisses along his cheek, neck and shoulder as he takes a moment. You were still a bit worked up, but you elected to ignore it, wanting Pope to come down from his orgasm so you could gage his emotions. 
“Fuck,” He mumbles as he rolls off of you and lays on his back. You giggle at his bluntness. He removes the condom, leaning over your bed to throw it away. You pull a blanket from the foot of the bed and pull it over your naked bodies, cuddling into his side and throwing your leg over his waist. 
He was still quite flabbergasted, sighing as he layed back down, wrapping his arms around you and allowing you to settle within them. 
“You okay?” 
“That was amazing.” He states as fast as he could, kissing your forehead. 
“Yeah?” You ask. 
“What do you mean yeah? Of course it was.” He tells you. 
“I dunno,” You drift off drawing circles on his bare skin. “It was your first time, I wanted to make sure it was good, give you the best first experience possible.” 
“There’s no one I would have rather done this with. This was the best it possibly could have been, because you’re the best I could possibly have.” 
This makes you tear up slightly. 
“Thank you for saying that Popey.” 
“And thank you,” he kisses your lips this time. “For being amazing and showing me all of this, and letting it be new and allowing me to be comfortable. Everything has been amazing, and tonight was perfect.” 
“Of course baby,” You whisper. “If you think that was good, just wait. It only gets better from here.” 
“I can’t fucking wait.” 
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elizabeethan · 3 years
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The Days We Defend (Will Turn To Gold)- Chapter 3
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Everything is perfect, until it isn’t. Killian and Emma have spent months building a life together after finally defeating Neal and Gold, but when the Dark One dies and his power becomes untethered, everyone in Storybrooke is at risk, and some decisions may have lasting consequences.
Sequel to Walk With Me (I Think We’ll Find A Way)
Prologue, 1, 2
Read on Ao3
Tagging: @courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @profdanglaisstuff @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook​
Belle is overwhelmed with responsibilities, both as newfound official owner of the shop, and with settling the Crocodile’s assets. They weren’t even bound together by law, but for whatever reason, she felt compelled to take care of these things.
“I suppose we should bury him,” she says over her coffee mug as she pours over pages of financial documents at Killian and Emma’s dining table.
Killian shrugs. “I suppose that’s a good way to prevent any foul odors,” he agrees, and she gives him a look that tells him he may have said the wrong thing. “And… of course, it’s the respectful thing to do.”
“Of course,” she says through a laugh and rolls her eyes. “I mean, I probably should've taken care of this already. It’s been a week since he passed, I just… it’s been strange.”
“I understand, love. You weren’t together but you still had feelings towards him. And as big a bastard as he was, he did love you.”
She presses her mouth together thoughtfully, nodding as she looks back down at her pages and takes another sip from her mug and he finishes up the dishes from their lunch. It’s perhaps the first time that he’s realized what this means: his enemy is dead. His life’s mission is complete.
He has a feeling that, were this to happen three years ago, he would have felt lost. He’s lived an unnaturally long life with one goal in mind, and with that goal met, he’s unsure what else he may have had to live for. Now, he has everything he needs.
It isn’t long before he hears the bounding steps of his toddler stomping down the stairs, one step at a time, and a nervous Emma behind her reminding her to be cautious.
During the last week, he’s noticed a new trend: Emma is constantly anxious about Corrine’s safety. She’s far more nervous about her being hurt while exploring her environment and learning new skills, and is always helicoptering over the child, hardly taking an eye off of her. It isn’t that he suspects that she distrusts him, but he’s certainly noticed that she almost never leaves their daughter alone, not even with her father.
“Hello my little love,” Killian says as she reaches the landing.
“Hi Captain,” she says, her tiny voice pronouncing her new word without a T.
“Who the blazes is teaching you these terms, my dear?” he asks, picking her up once his hand is dry and placing a kiss on her forehead.
“No know,” she responds with a shrug, although he doubts that to be true. One can only trust a two-year-old as far as one can throw them, especially when that child’s father is Captain Hook, and he’s nearly completely certain that she does know that Prince Charming is trying to mess with him.
“You’re far too smart for your own good, sweetheart.”
“Thank.”
Emma smiles softly as she rounds the corner, placing a hand on their daughter’s back and glancing up at Killian before moving towards the refrigerator.
“What would you like for lunch, smarty pants?” Emma asks Corrine, and she shrugs.
“Cheese,” she tells her mother, smiling a toothy grin at Killian and then poking his nose with her chubby finger.
“A grilled cheese? For Emma Swan’s daughter? Preposterous.”
Emma laughs, barely, and bumps his shoulder with her own, moving throughout the kitchen to get started on cooking as Killian continues to entertain the lass.
“Corrine, did you say hello to Belle?” Killian asks, and she turns in his arms and smiles sweetly.
“Hi.”
“Hello there,” Belle says with a smile, standing and gathering her files. “I actually think I should be going. I’ve got to make the arrangements for the burial.”
“Aye, lass.”
“Would you guys, um, are you planning on coming?”
Emma drops something behind him with a clatter, then lets out a hissed curse. When he turns, he sees her shoving a frying pan to the back of the stove and forcing the burner into the off position, holding her hand in front of her.
“Uh,” he says, placing Corrine down and moving towards Emma. “I’ll let you know,” he tells Belle as she makes her way out the door to leave.
“Momma’s okay?” Corrine asks, toddling over towards her.
“I’m fine,” she mumbles back, looking down and plastering on a fake smile. “Baby, go play in the living room while I make your lunch, okay?”
Corrine runs clumsily towards her small chest, opening it up and exclaiming excitedly when she sees some of her favorite stuffed toys. “Emma,” Killian finally says, moving in front of her and taking her burned hand.
“I’m fine,” she spits out, yanking her hand back and reaching for the pan again, replacing it on the burner and moving towards the refrigerator.
“You’re clearly not.”
“I said I’m fine.”
“Did you forget the conversation we had last week? I told you I’m here for you, love. You don’t have to bear—”
“Hook, I’m fine! Just leave it, would you?”
She hadn’t called him that since the curse was broken, but lately it’s been slipping from her lips far more frequently than he prefers. “Don't do that, Swan. Don’t put your walls back up; don’t shut me out.”
“I”m not.”
“You are. You’re scared about what’s going to happen with Regina and you’re trying to protect yourself, but in doing so, you’re closing yourself off from me.” She refuses to look him in the eye as she lets a pat of butter slide into the pan and tilts it so that it melts across the surface. “You’re doing it now.”
“What do you want me to say?” she mumbles as she places a slice of bread in the pan.
He takes her hand once she places a slice of cheese over the bread and covers it with another, pulling her away and forcing her to turn and face him. “You don't have to say anything. Just… I just want you to trust me like I trust you.”
She sighs, wriggling out of his hold and grabbing for a tool that she uses to flip the sandwich over. “Of course I trust you,” she says softly as he hands her Corrine’s plastic plate. She slides the hot sandwich onto it, slices it down the middle, and hands it back to him, turning away once again and taking the pan towards the sink.
He stands there expectantly, foolishly, for a moment before turning and walking towards the table, calling for Corrine as he places the plate in front of her chair. “Come, love,” he calls, and he hears her tumbling towards him. He hoists her into her chair and kisses the top of her head as she starts munching away.
Emma holds her burnt hand out of the running stream of water as she washes the pan vigorously. She isn’t one for cleaning, well, anything, so to see her so passionately doing so is throwing him for a loop.
Rather than trying to talk any more sense into her, he walks up behind her, resting his prosthetic on her hip and taking the pan from her hand to place it down in the sink so that he can hold her. He feels tension leaving her quickly as she settles her back against his chest before turning around and wrapping her arms around his middle, sighing.
He holds her tight, attempting to squeeze the anxiety and fear out of her but knowing it likely isn’t going to work like that. Instead he settles for telling her, “I’m here, love, always. We’ll get through this, I swear it.”
He hopes beyond hope that he’s being truthful to her.
~~~~
Later that night, when Corrine is safely tucked into her crib only after David helped Emma to lower the platform in an attempt to prevent her from escaping, Emma and Killian sit quietly on the loveseat as Henry takes up the entire couch. They had a film on, and although Killian finds them difficult to follow, he guesses that Henry is having a far worse time focusing  based on the way he stares off at the ceiling for almost the entire picture. Eventually, he sits back up, his spine so straight that it looks uncomfortable, and announces, “I don’t wanna see my mom.”
Emma straightens too. “I know that, Henry. I told you I’m not gonna make you do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”
“I know she’s been asking for me.”
Emma squeezes Killian’s hand but won’t turn his way. He sighs and steps in. “Aye, lad, she has. But your mother has been very clear that that won't happen.”
“Hook’s right,” she says. “We aren't letting anything happen to you. You're old enough to make your own decisions about this stuff.”
The lad sighs, relaxing back into the couch a bit before speaking up again. “I feel bad, though. If she’s saying she wants to see me, maybe that would help her to fight the darkness.”
“Well, maybe that’s true, but it’s okay for you to set your own limits. Isn’t that what Dr. Hopper used to say?”
“Yeah. It’s just… why would she do this?” he asks softly, staring down at his hands resting on his knees. “Why would she let herself go back to being dark, after everything that happened when I was a kid?”
“The darkness came to her, Henry. She didn’t really have that much control over it,” Emma says, trailing off weakly at the end of her statement. He knows she’s blaming herself now for the position that Regina is in, and for Henry’s emotional turmoil.
“She’s gonna do something stupid. And dangerous.”
“Henry…”
“Mom, she did some really terrible stuff when she was the Evil Queen, and now she’s gone dark again. How can I trust that she won't try to hurt you like she did last time? Or me or Corrine?”
He feels her tense some more. “Kid, you shouldn’t have to worry about that.”
“But I do! It’s all I can think about!”
“We’re gonna take care of this! I told you that you don’t have to see her and I meant it. Nothing is gonna happen to you,” she tells him urgently, standing from the couch so quickly that Killian starts to tip over.
“But what about you? And everyone else I care about?”
“I’m gonna fix this,” she promises, her voice cracking. She moves towards Henry and pulls him into a tight hug which he returns in kind, the two of them standing still in the middle of the living room and seemingly blocking out the rest of the world.
Killian feels so helpless.
~~~~
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Swan,” he starts, moving towards the bed that she sits on heavily.
“If you tell me everything's gonna be okay, I think I’ll scream.”
He stops in his tracks, sighing as she flops backwards until her back hits the mattress and groans.
“Emma.”
“Hook, I can’t have this fight with you again!” she nearly shouts, thrusting her fingers into her hair.
“Who said we were fighting?”
She rolls over onto her stomach and presses herself up so that she’s sitting on her knees, staring him down with angry eyes. “You're going to tell me that this isn’t my fault and that we’ll get through this,” she says, irritation clear in her voice.
He steps towards the bed, standing closer to her and narrowing his eyes. “Suppose I am. Suppose I mean it.”
“It doesn’t help!” she says. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t just sit around doing nothing while we wait for something to go wrong.”
“Swan, you're not doing nothing.”
“Why do you keep saying that?!”
“Why are you so upset with me?”
“I’m not!”
“Clearly you—” he’s interrupted. Her hands are around his neck and her mouth is on his with a forceful pressure that nearly knocks him off his feet. “Swan,” he tries, but she continues her attack on his lips.
“Stop talking,” she mumbles against him. “I don't want to hear anymore.”
“What do you want?”
She slows her movements of her lips along his only slightly, as if she’s considering his question, and in her pause, he leans them forward so that she falls back onto the mattress with him on top of them. She grunts, biting his lip fiercely in an angry response, and before he can steady himself on top of her, she’s pushing his shoulders and flipping them.
“You,” she growls at him before kissing him again. “I want to fuck you.”
Her words shoot through him as quickly as his blood does, coursing through his body in an icy heat. His hand finds her hip immediately, squeezing before he slaps her ass covered by her tight leggings. “You want it rough, love?”
“Yes,” she answers immediately.
“Well,” he murmurs as her mouth trails down his stubble covered chin and finds the juncture of his neck, sucking what he knows will become a bruise. “I’m happy to oblige.”
He knows what this is. He knows she’s seeking out control where she can and while she has so little of it. He normally takes the reins and revels in his ability to make her fall apart, so tonight, he’ll sit back and enjoy as she flips the script.
She’s quick in her work of undoing the buttons of his top, ripping it open forcefully and fully exposing his chest so that she can slide her lips down the expanse of flesh. She sucks another bruise into the skin just beside his nipple as her hands make quick work of the zip of his trousers. She pulls them down promptly once they’re undone, continuing the wet trail that her mouth leaves down his torso until she’s blowing hot breath against the fabric of his boxers just above his already-hard cock. She slides onto her knees on the floor before him, pulling the garment away, and takes him in her mouth almost immediately, never breaking eye from his. It’s perhaps the longest their eyes have maintained contact all week.
She sucks him expertly, swirling her tongue as her cheeks hollow and taking him down nearly to the base. He groans at her enthusiasm and she hums in response, the back of her throat vibrating against his throbbing tip. “Fuck, Emma,” he says, pulling at her hair lightly and iliciting a moan from her. He nearly loses himself at her response. “Come here, love.”
She hums again to question him, looking up as her tongue trails a thick line up his shaft and she sucks his tip once more. “Where?”
“If you don’t stop, I’m going to finish, and I won’t be able to fuck you.”
Releasing him with a pop, she presses herself up from her knees and begins to slide her leggings and knickers down her shapely legs. “Didn’t you hear what I said?” she asks as she pulls her top above her head and moves back towards him. She’s straddling his hips, his erection trapped between his stomach and her core, and the heat of her against him driving his mad. “I’m fucking you.”
“Bloody hell,” he breathes out as she grasps him and tucks him inside her. She moans, her hands sliding up his chest and taking his hand to place it on her breast still covered by her bra. He moves the fabric away as best he can through the distraction of having her around him, but he must be moving too slowly because she reaches around her back and unhooks it herself. As he squeezes again and runs his thumb along her nipple, she moans, tossing her head back so that her long hair almost tickles the tops of his thighs.
She rides him mercilessly, bouncing and and thrusting hard against him as she takes what she needs from him. He hopes it helps her; he could see her fear all week, her lack of control driving her to a state he hasn’t seen her in in quite some time. Her walls are coming back up, and watching it happen before him and being unable to prevent it hurts more than he knows what to do with.
“Fuck,” Emma says, reaching her hand to rub tight circles along her clit as she continues to squeeze him. “God, yes.”
“That’s it, darling. Take what you need from me,” he chokes out. He’s hardly even coherent, barely holding himself together as he prays for her quick release after the work she has put in on him moments ago. “I’m here, love, take what you need.”
“I need you,” she whimpers. Her voice is high and breathy as she collapses against him, one hand still trapped between them on her clit and the other wrapping around his neck. “I need,” she breathes, following it with nothing.
He chooses now to bend his knees and thrust his hips up into her finally, feeling her squeeze her arm harder around his neck and her core tighter against his cock. He groans into her neck, holding her hips so she can continue to move above him as he meets her with each thrust. “That’s so good, love, you feel so perfect. Such a good job for me, that’s it.”
“Killian,” she chokes out. “I— I lo—”
He thinks for sure that she’ll say it— he would’ve loved to hear it— but instead, she squeezes once more, choking out a cry that tells him she’s cascading off the cliff they worked towards together. As soon as she gives him permission through her own orgasm, he’s spilling himself inside her. She lets out a keening whimper as she comes down, her lips biting and kissing against his neck as she collapses.
He turns his head towards her’s, kissing her forehead and rubbing his bare arm up and down along her back as she comes back down. He hasn’t been with her with her walls this high since Neverland, and he isn’t sure how she’ll react to his attempts to hold her after such animalistic sex, but he chances it.
After he rolls them onto their sides, she holds on tightly to him but won’t move her head from its spot under his chin. He feels her shallow breaths hitting the skin of his collarbone, tickling the hairs gently as he runs his fingers along her spine. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she whispers, and he feels his heart squeezing painfully in his chest.
He pulls her impossibly closer to him and responds, “there isn’t anything wrong with you, my love,” and kisses the crown of her head once more.
“I don’t know why I can’t just…” she shrugs.
He thinks— he hopes— he knows what she means. She feels love for him, but can’t say the words and stay for the aftermath. Assuming this is correct, he says, “it’s okay. I love you enough for the both of us.”
He feels her burying her face further into his chest and she tightens her grip on his torso. “I feel it, I do. I just…”
“I know.”
He does know. He only hopes that he doesn’t soon get to a place where that isn’t enough anymore.
~~~~
They meet again at Granny’s in the morning, Ruby and Tink staying with Henry and Corrine despite the lass’s protests. She wants desperately to come with her parents, and her increased clinginess to the both of them worries Killian. He thinks it worries Emma more. Just one more straw that threatens to break the camel’s back that is Emma, he thinks.
Regina can hardly focus. She’s still going back and forth between talking to them as herself and the Dark One, and her quick flip from one personality to another startles them all. Today, she can’t seem to think about anything aside from Henry, and he can feel Emma’s tension from across the diner.
“Regina, we need a real plan.”
“I have a plan! It’s to see my son!”
“We need a plan for getting the darkness out of you. Have you found anything in your books or your vault?”
“Emma, I have to see him,” she pleads. “He’s the only thing that can keep me sane right now. Being the Dark One is so hard… I’m trying so hard not to give in, and he gives me strength to fight it.”
He watches as Emma blinks, sighing and letting her head fall forward at Regina’s words. She’s trying to appeal to Emma’s motherhood, and it isn’t fair. He wants to step in, but they asked to talk privately and he’s trying to respect that.
“I’m sorry, I really am,” Emma says softly. “It’s just not a good idea right now.”
“So Emma Swan finally has something over me and she’s milking it for all it’s worth, is that it?”
“Regina, it isn’t that. You know I want what’s best for Henry.”
“Then why the hell won’t you let him see me? Is it revenge over what happened last year that you want?”
“No!”
“You finally have a say in this and you can’t seem to let go.”
“Regina, Henry doesn’t want to see you,” Emma practically shouts. Killian’s blood runs cold.
“What?” Regina spits, leaning towards Emma threateningly. He stands from his stool at the counter and starts to make his way over to them.
“He’s scared! He spent so much of his life frightened of his mother being the Evil Queen and now he’s scared that you’re going to hurt someone he loves again!”
He places his hand on Emma’s shoulder and feels her tense up in response. Regina stands slowly, leering over Emma and smiling maliciously. “We’ll see.”
“What does that mean…?” Emma asks softly, leaning back against his hand and seemingly taking comfort in his presence.
“Well, Miss Swan, I suppose you’ll see.”
“Regina—”
“Just you wait, Miss Swan. You can’t keep my son from me forever.”
Before Emma can argue, she vanishes.
~~~~
“I need your help.”
“With what?”
“A plan. Don’t think I’ve forgotten your little scheme to get what you wanted last year.”
“So the new Dark One needs help from the old Dark One’s son?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. Your plan to make everyone forget and keep your family to yourself was perfect, aside from the fact that it may have taken Henry from me. I need your help to make that happen now.”
“How will you do it?”
“Allow me to show you.”
~~~~
~~~~
Thoughts????? :)
Read Chapter 4
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poguesofthebau · 4 years
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Idea to write for OBX!!!! The pogues just having a good evening together, like playing truth or dare like 16 year olds before the events of the show take place!!
heyo all, writing is hard for me recently so i decided that i would do something based off what real life is like right now with a lil inspo from this request tossed in :) hope you like it!! (naturally, reader is dating jj in this bc i can’t help myself hehe oops)
summary: jj, y/n, and the rest of the pogues (including sarah) live in the world we’re all currently living in: quarantine. so what happens when the craziest friend group in the obx are trapped inside the Chateau for weeks at a time without any authority figures or outsiders? to put it simply, anarchy happens. (alternate summary: what i wish i was doing during this stupid quarantine instead of sitting in my room to avoid my parents’ hovering.) (alternate, simple summary: a hot ass day in quarantine with the pogues.) word count: 2101
sticky. why the hell were you sticky?
you opened your eyes with a deep groan, peeling yourself from jj with a disgusted look on your face. “jj, get off of me.” you’d both been laying on your stomachs as you slept, but the boy had somehow wound up directly on top of you. it would’ve been kind of endearing, cute almost, to wake up so close to jj, if it wasn’t so fucking hot.
someone across the room laughed lightly, and you slipped out from under jj and flipped onto your back, sitting up and squinting to see who it was. when you saw sarah, kie, and pope staring at you from the table a few feet away from the pull-out couch, you let out an annoyed puff of air, raking a hand through your bedhead to slightly calm it. leaning back on your hands, you glanced back down at your boyfriend. his nose was scrunched up, and his hand started rustling around the sheets until it made contact with your right calf. satisfied, his face relaxed again. before you could look back to your friends, pope was speaking. “i don’t know how the two of you managed to sleep like that all night. with those body temperatures combined, i’m pretty sure you should’ve burst into flames by like, 2am.”
“c’mon, pope,” sarah smirked. “they’re in love. their feelings for each other, they’re hotter than anything. like, hotter than--”
“hotter than the flames in hell!” kie interrupted proudly. “and the obx may feel like it’s hotter than that already, but--”
“nothing compares to their sacred, burning love.” sarah and kie both smiled smugly at their own ability to finish each other’s sentences, fist bumping as pope shook his head. “that was good. i love us.” the girls giggled again, and you couldn’t help but laugh a bit too.
“can you corny fucks shut the hell up? a guy can never get a wink of sleep around here, shit.” with that, jj was rolling over, too, a very unimpressed look plastered on his face as he scolded his friends. not as eager to be awake as you had been, jj groaned as he stretched, flopping into your lap on his back when he was finally done waking himself up. your hands naturally found their way to his hair, scratching at his scalp subconsciously as you looked around at the mess of the Chateau. “where’s jb at? and why is it so fucking hot in here?”
“you can’t really complain about body temps when you’re curled up in your girlfriend’s lap like a cat, bro,” pope pointed out. jj rolled his eyes as pope continued. “but since you asked so nicely, it’s the first heat wave of the year-- you’d know that if you ever listened to anything i say throughout the day. john b’s out trying to get food and water and stuff before it’s all gone.”
jj muttered something under his breath about wishing pope had gone out with their other friend as his eyes closed again at the feeling of your fingertips on his hairline. “you know what we should do today?”
“make out? at least let me brush my teeth first, you animal,” jj interjected. you flicked his nose, ignoring the comment otherwise. “oh, so you don’t wanna make out? alright, y/n, but just remember, it’s your rule!”
“jj, why does everything always have to be about you?”
“i have needs, kie!”
“okay, okay, okay, i think y/n had an idea. let the woman speak!” sarah quickly redirected.
“thank you,” you smiled pointedly at sarah. “i think-- and tell me if there are any objections-- i think, maybe, we should day-drink.”
as soon as the words left your mouth, the door beside you was swinging open with a creak, john b bursting into the room. “did someone say-- DAY-DRINK?” he held up a six pack of beer in each hand, that bright and proud john b grin plastered on his face. the entire group cheered, jumping up to help him bring in the groceries he’d gotten his hands on. “thanks to mr. c’s non-existent credit card limit, we are now loaded. thanks kie!” he tossed her dad’s card back on the table, the curly haired girl laughing at his words. kiara had somehow convinced her parents that spending her quarantine with the pogues at john b’s house was an acceptable idea, and they had even given her an emergency credit line for necessities and necessities only.
beer was an absolute need for the pogues, to be fair.
----
a few hours later, everyone was pretty day-drunk, so to speak.
sarah was currently engaged in a deep conversation with pope about why, exactly, he wanted to be a coroner so badly. you were in the middle of an arm-wrestling tournament against john b, with jj and kie passing the group’s second blunt of the afternoon back and forth. “y/n, your hand is fucking slippery!”
“fuck you, john b! it’s sweaty! haven’t you noticed that it’s a million damn degrees in this place?”
the arm wrestling tourney came to a close soon after, and the group went back to sweating, smoking, and throwing back beers. your feet wound up in jj’s lap as you tried to fan yourself with an empty, folded up cardboard box that one of the six-packs had come in. “hey kie, do you think your dad would mind if we used his credit card to buy a decent air conditioning system for this shithole? no offense, john b.”
“actually, y/n, i kind of take offense to that. just a little, you know?” you stuck your tongue out at your friend, throwing your piece of cardboard at him.
“you know, guys,” sarah spoke up. “me and my sister used to play this game--”
“oh, sarah, please tell me it’s not truth or dare with no dare.” john b’s face twisted into disapproval, and it was sarah’s turn to stick her tongue out at him.
“it is truth or dare with no dare, and i don’t hear any better ideas from anyone else, so we’re playing.”
jj’s hand came down on your ankle as he sat up and looked at the other blonde of the group. “actually, i’m thinking me and y/n will just roll another blunt and go hide in the guest room. that would be a better idea, i think.”
“no way, dumbass! if we have to do it, you two are sticking around for it too. pogues never abandon pogues, remember?” kie and her rules. “so, who starts?”
“well usually when i’ve played before it’s only been two people, so maybe i’ll ask the first question and we can all go around and answer?” jj groaned at this new development, causing you to smile. you flopped around on the futon a bit until your side was pressed against his, and he threw his arm around your shoulders once you’d settled. “okay, first question. um, let’s see... i don’t know. what’s the weirdest dream you’ve ever had?”
----
“weirdest place you’ve ever had sex. three, two, one, go!” jj pointed to john b, and the entire group erupted into laughter. john b was clearly struggling to think of an answer, and jj, who had become strangely invested in hour-long game, was running out of patience. “c’mon, man!”
“jesus christ, jj, i don’t know!” john b choked out through his laughs. “a bell tower, i guess?”
“great! sarah? where’ve ya done it, kook princess?” that one earned a smack on the arm from you, and jj quickly rephrased. “sorry! i meant, uh, where’ve ya-- i don’t know. just-- what’s your answer?”
sarah glanced between john b and jj, hesitating before she answered. “conveniently enough, my answer is also... a bell tower.”
with the ruckus that answer caused, you weren’t expecting the game to end any time soon.
----
“oh, my god. i finally don’t feel like i’m burning alive anymore.” pope threw his arms victoriously above his head as he made the statement, kie smiling at him and wrapping an arm around his waist.
“that’s how fucked the weather’s gonna be forever if humans don’t start taking care of the planet, pope. isn’t that crazy?” pope looked at her and nodded with a slightly terrified look in his eye, not finding the person kie became when drunk completely trustworthy to not flip out on him for his history of littering and excessive plastic use.
“you know, guys,” john b called out, quickly changing the subject. “this is kind of insane.”
“what do you mean, johnny boy? what’s so insane about a heat wave?” your head was pretty much buried in jj’s chest as you spoke, with his hands slowly tracing big circles in your back. the last blunt of the night had just been smoked, and it was hitting you both a little harder than the others had. for the past few minutes, you’d been thinking about you and jj finally making your way to the guest room for the more intimate one-on-one time that the weed had made you crave. as soon as he’d put the roach down, you’d crawled into his lap. the temperature had dropped reasonably, and the sticky feeling you’d experienced that morning was now completely out of the picture. your left hand was wrapped around jj’s neck, your right just hidden under his shirt as your thumb stroked back and forth just above his hip. jj had watched you nuzzle into that position through hooded red eyes with a little amused smile playing his lips, before returning the physical affection by sliding one hand reassuringly onto the back of your neck and letting the other draw shapes into your back.
by the time john b had finished gazing around lovingly at the group before answering, you had almost forgotten about having asked a question to begin with. “not the heat wave, y/n.” his correction reminded you of what the conversation had been, and your tilted your head up to make eye contact with jj. when you locked eyes, you knew jj was thinking the same thing as you: john b’s about to get corny and emotional. and you were both right. “seriously, look at us. isn’t this crazy?” you and jj smiled at each other, and you placed a loving kiss on his jawline before refocusing your sight on john b. “how did we all end up together? i mean, three losers who met in elementary school,” john b listed, looking to you and jj with a bright smile as you felt jj squeeze your neck lightly. “a weird kid who, for some reason, is totally obsessed with dead bodies and shit,” pope looked a john b awkwardly as kie giggled, slipping her hand into pope’s. “and a couple of fucking kooks.” sarah hummed from her spot next to john b, kie sarcastically saluting with her free hand. “you guys, somehow, we all got together, all found each other. what are the odds of that? what are the odds that we found this totally perfect, totally dysfunctional but perfect little family?”
before you could stop yourself, you felt the first tear slip down your face. “fuck you, john b,” you muttered quietly, taking your hand out from under jj’s shirt to swipe at the wetness on your face. scrubbing away the rest of the tears in your eyes before they could escape, you put your hand back down on jj’s arm this time.
“yeah, fuck you, john b. why you makin’ my girl cry, bro?” everyone chuckled softly, admiring each other in the moment. “alright, though, really. since she’s already crying, i guess i should say it now.” your head lifted back up to look at jj, and he looked back down at you as he continued. “i love you.” as you both broke into smiles, he looked back to your friends. “i love all of you guys. you’re all annoying as fuck, and i know i live for giving you all a hard time and stuff. but seriously. this is my family. pogues forever.”
“shit,” kie muttered this time, her thumb swiping under her own eyes as pope looked down at her adoringly. “pogues forever, guys. thank you for taking in us stupid kooks and letting us be who we are. pogues for-fucking-ever.”
“as corny as it sounds, i feel like we’re kind of required to group hug now,” pope added. “everybody up! i love you sickos and psychos, criminal records and all!”
and then, you all hugged the shit out of each other. pogue style.
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artificialqueens · 3 years
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Off Limits, Chapter 6 (Bitney) - Veronica/Albatross
A/N: Hey guys! This is the companion story to “No Strings Attached.” Both ships are in both stories, but generally, “No Strings Attached” is Willaska-focused and this one is Bitney-focused. (Link to all chapters in order.) Thanks as always to our lovely beta (and EVP of That’s So Aussie™️), @opalescent-cheetah
Chapter Summary: Let’s be honest, this chapter is just mostly porn.
***
Courtney was thrilled. Finally in Bianca’s arms, something she’d longed for since the first day they met--even if it had taken her awhile to admit it to herself. She flung herself into it with all of that pent-up longing, an urgent need to prove how certain she was that this wasn’t a mistake.
Her kisses were passionate, messy, almost frantic, making her way down Bianca’s body. When she began to slide Bianca’s bottoms off, a hand covered hers, stopping her.
“Whatcha doin’ down there?”
“I thought I would eat your pussy,” Courtney replied, doing her best to sound confident.
“Uh huh. And do you know how to do that?” Bianca asked, an amused smirk on her lips.
“Uhh…” Of course she didn’t, in spite of the several embarrassing google searches in her browser history, which ultimately ended up confusing her more than helping. But Bianca didn’t need to know that. “I’ve read some stuff. Figured I’d wing it.”
“I mean, I appreciate the thought, but, wouldn’t you like some instructions first?” Bianca cupped her face, tilting her chin up, tucking some hair behind her ear.
“I thought you like girls who know what they’re doing,” Courtney admitted, resisting the urge to press into Bianca’s hand like a cat.
“True. But...I can’t expect you to be psychic, can I? Why don’t I give you a live demo?” Her fingers drifted through Courtney’s hair, then scratched her scalp lightly, causing shivers to run through her.
It took less than half a second for Courtney to say, “Okay.”
Bianca grinned at her, moving aside to give her space on the narrow bed.
“Lie down.”
Courtney complied immediately, getting a tingling little thrill when Bianca’s grin deepened, heart pounding as she pressed a kiss to Courtney’s open mouth.
“Are you ready?” she murmured, hands sliding over Courtney’s body, making her skin prickle.
“Yes.”
“Take off your panties,” Bianca instructed.
Courtney raised her hips, saying, “You do it.”
Bianca’s head tilted at her, amused.
“I’m sorry, who’s running the show here?”
“Please,” Courtney pouted sweetly, fluttering her lashes.
“You’re a brat,” Bianca said, eyes sparkling with amusement as she hooked her fingers into the side of Courtney’s panties and slid them slowly down her legs. “And oh, look...telling the truth about being a natural blonde, huh?”
“Dead on.” With a victorious grin, Courtney spread her legs, giving Bianca space to settle between them. Her abdomen was tense with excitement as Bianca placed a soft, teasing kiss just below her belly button, then looked up with a smile. She locked eyes with Courtney, barely moving, one hand drifting slowly up and down her thigh.
“Go ahead,” Courtney urged.  
“What makes you think I haven’t already started?” Bianca asked. “See...you have to make sure she’s reallyready.”
She bent down slowly, placing an excruciatingly soft kiss just inside Courtney’s knee.
“I’m ready,” Courtney said, failing to keep the pitiful whine out of her voice.
Bianca didn’t answer, just smiled to herself and continued to trail featherlight kisses along her thighs.
“You want her to be dripping wet...quivering...a needy mess…” Bianca’s hot breath ghosted over her, and Courtney whimpered.
“I hope you know,” she gasped out, “this means I’m gonna be torturing you back.”
Bianca looked up, catching her eye with a mischievous glint.
“Counting on it.”
*
Bianca knew that she was being a bit of a sadistic bitch, but she couldn’t help it. Courtney was just so cute, with her cheeks flushed a bright pink, whimpering with need every time she so much as breathed against her.
“You can feel her with your fingers, to really see how wet she is,” Bianca said, letting the back of her knuckles graze her pussy; and Jesus Christ, wet was an understatement. Courtney squirmed against her hand, breath hitching. Bianca looked into her lust-darkened eyes, bringing her fingers up to her mouth to lick slowly.
“Taste her…”
Courtney inhaled sharply, watching Bianca in a trance as she licked her fingers clean. Her other hand still rested on her warm thigh, and she could feel the muscles tensing beneath her.
Finally satisfied that she was ready, Bianca bent down, hovering over her for a few moments until she could see her trembling.
“You wanna go in soft,” she said, before licking her slowly, tongue flat against her.
Courtney arched up, clutching Bianca’s sheets in her fist.
“Every girl is different,” Bianca explained, nuzzling against her. “And usually, you’re gonna get very little in the way of direct instructions. So...you have to try different things. See what works.”
Bianca swirled her tongue around, trying to watch Courtney’s reaction through her fringe of dark lashes. And then, when she began to flick her tongue, Courtney’s hips began to roll, a hand tangling into her hair and pressing down on the back of her head.
Pausing to reach behind her own head and tap Courtney’s hand, Bianca looked up at her with a smirk.
“If she’s pushing on the back of your head, she’s probably trying to tell you to go harder.”
“Yeah,” Courtney affirmed, nodding frantically. “Harder…”
“So, you can listen. Or, you can tease her a little more...back off and go even softer.”
The aggrieved whimper that came out of Courtney’s mouth next, accompanied by vigorous thrusting of her hips, was almost enough to make Bianca laugh. If she’d had to guess ahead of time, she’d have pegged Courtney as someone who wanted everything gentle and soft. Beautiful to look at, but pure vanilla--possibly even boring, in the way that pretty girls so often are. The rabid maniac trying to fuck her face was an enchanting surprise.
“Teasing is especially fun when she’s a bit of a freak,” Bianca told her with a light cackle.
“I-” Whatever Courtney’s response was going to be, it was cut off with a broken moan, body in overdrive as she fell apart, gasping for air.
“Are you gonna remember this?” Bianca asked, “Because it’s all gonna be on the test. You should really be taking notes…”
“Oh God, Bianca, please…” she managed to choke out.
*
“Okay,” Bianca said, voice low and sexy, causing Courtney to shiver. “Pay attention, because this part is important..”
Courtney was neither a virgin nor a prude. She was fairly certain that she knew her own body. But the rapturous pleasure that ripped through her when Bianca began to suck on her clit was a new feeling entirely.
She twisted Bianca’s hair in her fists, moaning her name, grinding against her tongue as wave after wave of ecstasy hit her, until she finally collapsed in a sweaty heap. It felt like her bones were made of spaghetti--as weak as a rag doll, unable to even lift her head. She barely noticed Bianca sucking soft kisses into her skin, up her torso, until they were once again face to face, Bianca hovering over her with a satisfied smirk on her face.
“So...you like to fuck, huh?”
In spite of her exhaustion, Courtney chuckled drily.
“I’ve been trying to tell you…” she mumbled, and Bianca laughed, continuing to kiss her.
“Sorry to keep you waiting so long,” Bianca said. Her hands slid into Courtney’s hair, cradling the back of her head, lips trailing over her jaw.  
“I forgive you,” Courtney sighed, enjoying the tender affection. It was so gentle, and sweet, and made Courtney feel precious, warmth spreading through her to her toes. She reached a hand up to touch Bianca’s cheek.
As they kissed again, a giggle slipped from Courtney’s lips.
“What?” Bianca asked, nuzzling against her.
“You’re just...a little different than I expected,” Courtney admitted.
“Oh yeah? How so?”
“Well…” Courtney bit her lip, looking into Bianca’s dark eyes. “I just didn’t think you’d be so...I dunno. Sweet.”
“Disappointed?” Bianca whispered.
“No. I like you like this…”
“Well, don’t tell anyone,” Bianca warned. “You’ll ruin my reputation.”
“Okay,” Courtney said, fingers circling her left dimple. “I’ll just say you fucked me and then pushed me off the bed.”
Bianca laughed. “So, you’ve watched my sex tape?”
“Mmmhm,” Courtney giggled, feeling that familiar pride she always got when she made Bianca laugh.
As Bianca’s hot mouth found her neck, Courtney felt a tightness returning to her belly. She arched up, and Bianca chuckled slightly, bearing down against her.
“B…” Courtney whimpered, “It’s supposed to be your turn now.”
“I was trying to give you a few minutes to recover,” Bianca said, a wicked glint in her eye, hips rolling. “But I guess I can’t help myself.”  
Courtney’s breath came faster as her nails raked down Bianca’s back, gliding over her sweat-dampened skin. Feeling Bianca’s naked breasts against her own only made her long for more. She slipped her fingers under Bianca’s waistband, pushing her panties down impatiently.
“Can I help you with something?” Bianca raised her hips slightly to let Courtney push her panties down farther, until they got caught around her thighs.
“Please, B, please…”
“Yes, baby? Tell me what you want.”
“I want to feel you against me,” Courtney said, a desperate edge in her voice as she dug her fingers into Bianca’s ass, thighs spreading even more.
Bianca complied, pulling her panties off the rest of the way and then grinding down against Courtney’s welcoming body, making her gasp with pleasure. Courtney captured Bianca’s mouth in a kiss, nothing between them now but slick wetness as Bianca rubbed against her.
“Oh, fuck…”
*
Bianca raised herself up on her elbows, unable to resist watching Courtney’s beautiful face as she fell apart, cheeks flushed red, lips swollen, hips arching again and again. She reached down to butterfly her pussy open, grinding harder against her exposed, swollen clit. Courtney clung to Bianca for dear life as fingers sought out her heat, finding her dripping wet.
The way she moaned shamelessly made Bianca want to fuck her absolutely senseless.
“Hey…” she murmured into Courtney’s ear, not missing the telltale shiver. “I got another idea…”
Courtney turned towards her, lips chasing hers, soft sighs of pleasure turning to an indignant whine as Bianca rolled away, slipping off the bed.
“Patience, babydoll...” Bianca said, ducking under the bed to pull out a plastic box with the vague label of “SUPPLIES.” She pulled off the lid and pawed through the box, finding the dildo she was looking for, a very nice little beginner one in light pink, and placing it on the bed with a wicked smirk. “How do you feel about a strap-on?”
Courtney bit her lip, rolling over onto her side, thighs pressed together.
“I mean, I’ve never worn one before, but I’m willing to try…” she said, eyes fluttering.
“Very funny,” Bianca told her, watching her giggle and reach forward to touch the toy.
“It doesn’t really look like a dick,” she declared, running her fingers down the smooth length of it.
“Well...I’m not trying to trick you,” Bianca said, then paused before adding, “You can say no if you don’t want to-”
“I don’t wanna say no,” Courtney said, tilting her head, eyes still a bit glazed. “Let’s do it.”
Bianca grinned, dimples deep in her cheeks as she slipped on the harness and pushed the dildo through the ring, climbing back onto the bed. She handed Courtney a bottle of lube, then leaned back on her elbows, waiting.
“Do you want me to…”
“What do you want to do?” Bianca challenged, and Courtney lunged towards her, pulling her into a kiss.
She coated the toy generously with lube, a messy endeavor that was made even messier from her hurried enthusiasm. As she kneeled over Bianca, guiding the dildo towards her, Bianca started to tell her to take it slow, but she was too late, Courtney sitting down firmly against her with a gasp.
“Are you okay?” Bianca asked, tracing light patterns up her thighs, waiting for her to adjust.
Courtney nodded, leaning forward, starting to rock slowly. Getting to act out a literal fantasy was new for Bianca, and it took her brain a minute to catch up to what was happening, this golden-haired goddess riding her the way she’d dreamed of. Bianca groaned, mesmerized by her tits. She reached up to toy with them, and as her fingers brushed over the dark pink of her hardened nipples, Courtney let out a broken moan.
All Bianca wanted was to hear that sound again, and so she kept at it, pinching and rolling her nipples between her fingers, finally lifting her head to take one into her mouth, sucking gently at first and then harder, teeth nibbling at her, doing anything she could to chase the beautiful sound of Courtney coming apart.
*
“Oh, god…” Courtney’s thighs squeezed Bianca’s hips as she thrust forward frantically, unable to get enough of her. She thought she’d wanted her before, but nothing she’d imagined could compare to the real thing, the heat of her smooth, soft skin, the feel of her luscious curves, the way her hands felt on Courtney’s trembling body. Best of all, the look in her dark eyes as she gazed up at Courtney with pure, open desire, taking one of Courtney’s tits into her mouth, tingles shooting straight to her core as a tongue circled her nipple.
Courtney was so wrapped up in the moment that the sudden buzzing of the vibrator caught her completely off guard, lighting her up from within, making her cry out. Fingers dug into Bianca’s shoulders as she gasped for breath.
“Do you like that?”
The question barely registered in Courtney’s addled mind, but she answered on auto, nodding vigorously, the rolling waves of vibration washing over her. She whimpered pitifully as Bianca took control, pushing her onto her back, capturing her mouth in a kiss as she began to drive her hips forward faster and faster. Her controlled rhythm kept Courtney torturously on the edge, clawing at her back.
When Bianca turned the vibrator up, Courtney nearly blacked out, writhing beneath her, coming hard, and then again before she could catch a single breath, her entire body like a live wire as Bianca kept pumping her hips, slower now, teeth buried in the tender skin of her neck as she moaned, eyes rolled back.
Her mind was completely empty of everything but white-hot pleasure, lungs burning with a lack of oxygen, every thrust pushing her deeper and deeper into blissful agony, until she collapsed in exhaustion.
When Courtney’s eyes fluttered open, to the feeling of Bianca pressing soft kisses all over her face, she was drenched in sweat and still gasping for air. It could have been a minute later, or 10, or 10 years--she had no idea.
She wrapped her arms tighter around Bianca’s waist, holding her close.
“Wow.”
Bianca giggled softly, an adorably girlish sound, nuzzling into her cheek, and Courtney sighed against her, realizing that she still hadn’t reciprocated. This was turning into an upsettingly one-sided arrangement. Of course, there was the chance that the vibrator had made up for Courtney’s own lack of follow-through.
“Did you come?” Courtney asked hopefully, twirling a lock of Bianca’s hair around her finger.
“I did,” Bianca assured her. “You?”
“So many times.” Courtney let out a giddy laugh.
“Oh yeah? How many?”
“I lost count,” she admitted, head dropping backwards with a sleepy sigh.
For a few moments, they just breathed in the silence, bodies pressed together in a tangled heap, so sated that they soon drifted off to a contented sleep.
***
When Bianca’s eyes opened again, the evening sky had grown dark and Courtney was snuggled tight against her, tracing around her nipples so lightly, it made her shudder. She turned to Courtney with a dimpled grin.
“Hi,” Courtney said, eyes sparkling at her.
“Hey…How are you feeling?”
“Perfect...amazing…” Courtney stretched, making Bianca shift to give her more room. She flung a leg over Bianca’s, mouth turned up into a smirk. “So...are you glad I debated you into fucking me?”
“First time I enjoyed losing an argument…”
Courtney giggled, pushing Bianca onto her back and slipping a leg in between hers, lips seeking out Bianca’s for a deep, messy kiss. Bianca buried her hands into Courtney’s hair, enjoying the feel of a firm thigh against her. It was no longer rushed and desperate the way it had been earlier.  
It took Bianca a few minutes to catch on to what she was doing: lips brushing down her jaw to her neck, tongue over her collarbone, then circling her nipples. Slowly heading lower and lower.
“Court...what are you-”
“Fulfilling a promise…” Her breath was hot against Bianca’s abdomen, making her insides twist. She looked up at Bianca, batting her eyes innocently, bottom lip still brushing against her skin. “Is this okay?”
Bianca gulped. She was used to being in control, but could feel herself slipping, breath hitching as Courtney nibbled softly against her. When she didn’t immediately answer, Courtney crawled back up to capture her bottom lip in a heated kiss, teeth tugging it just enough that Bianca’s fingers dug into her waist. The way she hovered over Bianca’s body on her hands and knees, tits rubbing against Bianca’s own, made her shiver.
“I’m supposed to check, right?” Courtney asked, fingers skating up Bianca’s inner thigh to seek out her warm, wet pussy.
Bianca inhaled sharply, watching through heavy-lidded eyes as Courtney brought her slick fingers to her mouth, sucking hungrily at them, the satisfied noise she made so filthy that it made Bianca’s heart pound.
“Should I keep going?” Courtney asked, and Bianca nodded, allowing herself to relax backwards, enjoy the way she explored her body with a combination of tender affection and sordid greediness.
Her fingers curled back into Courtney’s hair as her head dipped lower and lower, eyes finally falling closed to concentrate on the heat of her tongue, when a bang on the door caused her to jump clean out of her skin.
“Bianca! Tell whatever slut you’ve got in there to cover up, we’re coming in!”
“Fuck me dead!” Courtney shrieked as the door flew open, snatching up a pillow to use as an ineffective privacy shield.
Willam stood in the doorway with her mouth open, just staring at them in absolute shock.
“That’s so Aussie,” giggled Alaska’s voice from behind her. “...Isn’t it?”
Willam turned around to ask incredulously, “Did you know it was Courtney she was fucking in there?”
“Yeah. Sorry. She’s loud.”  
“Huh…Not with guys,” Willam said.
Bianca was just getting over her shock of being interrupted in such a vulnerable state, her initial terror turning to indignant anger.  
“Excuse me!” she exclaimed, sitting up. “Is there a fucking reason for this invasion?!”
“Yes, asshole. Alaska’s been sexiled out here for hours and she needs to get her stuff,” Willam replied, hand on her hip.
“Shit.” Bianca glanced outside. The darkness had registered, but not the fact that they’d been keeping Alaska in purgatory. She would have felt a little bad...if she didn’t feel so fucking good.
“Omigod, Alaska, I’m so sorry!” Courtney cried guiltily. “I didn’t realize what time it was-”
“Clearly,” Willam said. “Get whatever you need, Lask. You can have Courtney’s bed tonight.” She turned back to Courtney, shaking her head with a scowl that just barely covered how amused she was. “I assume that’s okay with you, you fuckin’ whore?”
“Yes, of course!” Courtney said.
Bianca reached down for her blankets, which were piled down at the foot of the bed, pulling them up over their naked bodies to finally cover them both properly while Alaska retrieved her things.
“I guess she figured out what the tights meant,” she murmured into Courtney’s ear, earning a delighted laugh. Bianca pressed a kiss to her cheek, then unable to resist, nibbled softly down her jaw, almost immediately forgetting about their unwelcome company, whispering again into her skin, “God, you’re fucking delicious…”
Courtney’s cheeks were a lovely pink as she lowered the blanket slightly to say goodnight to the other girls.
“One word of advice, Bianca,” Willam said, holding the door open as Alaska scampered out. “...be careful.”
Bianca turned to her, glowering at her with a look that told Willam she better quickly shut the fucking door, but Willam continued.
“You know that thing about koalas and chlamydia...she could be patient zero…” she added.
Bianca leaned over and picked up one of Courtney’s sneakers from the ground beside the bed, hurling it towards Willam’s head with full force. She ducked, laughing, as it hit the door.
“Hey, I’m just looking out for your health!”
“Go!” Bianca yelled, blood pressure rising as Willam stuck out her tongue and finally shut the door behind her. She gave herself a few moments to shake off her irritation before turning back to Courtney with a smile. “Hey…”
“Hi.” Courtney bit her lip, suddenly bashful, and Bianca cupped her cheek gently.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah! I’m glad they know, actually,” Courtney said. “But…”
“But what?” Bianca felt a slight dread creep into the edges of her thoughts.
“But I kind of...have to pee.”
“Oh, yeah. Me too, actually,” Bianca chuckled, tossing the covers off. “And we should probably eat some dinner.”
“You’re still hungry?” Courtney asked, eyes flashing with a naughty glint.
Bianca laughed, utterly charmed. As she slid down from the bed, she caught Courtney’s gaze once again, dimples deep in her cheeks.
***
In the morning, once Bianca left for work, Courtney wandered back into her own room and flopped onto her unmade bed in a starry-eyed daze.
“Well well well. Look who’s joining us. The newest baby dyke,” Willam proclaimed, looking up from doing Alaska’s makeup.
“Will,” Alaska scolded, but Courtney just giggled, hugging a pillow to her chest.
She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night; neither of them did. And it was painful when Bianca finally slipped out of bed this morning to shower and get ready for work. Although Courtney had to admit, there was something sexy about watching her get ready--the almost choreographed routine of her hair and makeup, clad in a silky robe that kept slipping off her tanned shoulder, so enticing that Courtney eventually had to crawl to the edge of the bed to press a soft kiss against her. And then, when she began to get dressed, she allowed Courtney to dictate what she wore, down to the undergarments. She’d been amused when Courtney insisted on the set of forest green lingerie she’d bought that first week, the ones that had been at the center of Courtney’s most reckless fantasies.
“You like these?” Bianca had teased, dangling the panties between her fingers, laughing at the desperate edge in Courtney’s voice when she’d answered with a whispered ‘yes.’
Courtney curled around her pillow, counting the hours in her head until she would see Bianca again. She had an evening class after work, which meant that by the time she got home, Courtney would be stuck in her Cabaret rehearsal. It would be close to 11 pm before they’d be in the same room. Endless.
Willam looked up again, shaking her head and saying, “Surprised you can still walk after last night.”
“And this morning,” Courtney couldn’t help saying, with a cheeky grin. She nearly shivered with the memory of Bianca’s fingers working her into ecstasy while she was still in a sleepy, blissful haze, and then the intoxicating scent of her perfume right before she left, that glimpse she gave Courtney of the lingerie lingering in her mind, giving her something to obsess over all day.
Willam made a disgusted face, then began to fuss with Alaska’s hair.
“So...Ms. Del Rio took good care of you?” Alaska asked kindly, one eyebrow raised.
“Yeah, I’ll say…” Courtney smiled dreamily. “Did you know that you could come more than once, like in a row?”
“Everyone knows that, Courtney,” Willam said with an eye roll.
“No, I know, like in theory, but did you know actually?” Courtney sat up, eyes wide.
“Omigod,” Willam groaned. “She’s already fucked half your brain cells out.”
Alaska stifled a laugh, saying, “I’m real happy for you, Court.”
“Thank you. She just so…” Courtney searched for words, but came up empty. Shit, maybe Willam was right about her brain cells. She took a deep breath, noticing Alaska’s outfit for the first time. It was something she’d never worn before, and she looked adorable. “Alaska, I love that outfit! How come I’ve never seen it before?”
“It’s Willam’s.”
“Yeah, she had to borrow clothes since someone was getting railed in her bedroom this morning,” Willam said.
“Oh.” Courtney fell backwards, collapsing on the bed in blissful giggles. “Oops.”  
***
One thing that Bianca enjoyed about being the oldest one in their little group was that the others often assumed she was wise and experienced, even when she wasn’t. She liked the respect that came along with them believing that she knew things, and didn’t do much to dissuade their (sometimes incorrect) assumptions.
The truth was, though, as much experience as Bianca had with girls, she had never technically been in a “relationship.” She’d had plenty of one-night stands, but there wasn’t ever anyone that she felt justified calling a girlfriend.
Even though Courtney had blithely brushed aside her concerns about hooking up with a roommate, it didn’t totally negate them. She knew that, as close as they were and as much time as they spent together, there wasn’t going to be anything casual about their relationship. Even now, when it had been less than a day.
Her suspicions were confirmed when she got home that night to find a note on her pillow.
Had to go to rehearsal, but there’s a surprise for you in the fridge. XO, C
The surprise turned out to be homemade banana pudding, which was shocking to Bianca for two reasons. One, because in the months that she’d known Courtney, what she’d witnessed of her “cooking” was mostly just blending up smoothies or making kale chips, and very occasionally cooking some vegetables in a pan to dump over rice. To see what looked like a made-from-scratch dessert...even if it was terrible, the effort was overwhelmingly apparent. And two, banana pudding was Bianca’s favorite food, but she couldn’t for the life of her remembering ever telling that to Courtney.
She wanted to wait and maybe eat it together, but after about an hour, her resolve broke down, and she was in for a third surprise. It was good.
“How’s it taste?” Alaska asked, leaning on the doorframe.
“Oh, uh...it’s...it’s great, actually.”
“That was her third try,” her roommate confided, an amused smile playing on her lips. “She really likes you.”
“Well…” Bianca swallowed uncomfortably. “I really like her, too.”
But was it too much, too fast? Bianca couldn’t focus on her homework, mind too busy with racing, anxious thoughts. She tried to distract herself, sitting with Alaska (and then Willam, once she got home) and watching an idiotic reality show that they loved, all about children’s competitive cheerleading.
Courtney got back to the apartment around ten, immediately flying into the living room and climbing directly into Bianca’s lap, kissing her deeply, clearly unconcerned about their potential audience.
“Hey there,” Bianca murmured, when they finally came up for air. “How was your day?”
“It was the longest day of my life,” Courtney breathed, nuzzling into her neck. “I’m so glad to be home.”
In some ways, this was Bianca’s worst nightmare. So many feelings. Soft, gooey feelings, exposed and raw. But on the other hand, she did feel awfully warm in Bianca’s arms, and she smelled like heaven, and maybe feelings weren’t the worst thing in the world…
“Did you try the pudding?” Courtney asked. “Was it okay?”
“It was perfect.”
“Good.” Courtney twirled a lock of hair, lashes fluttering, and whispered, “Show me the bra…”
“There are other people in the room, you know,” Bianca murmured back, feeling her cheeks heat up.  
“So? Come on, just a peek.” Courtney tugged at her top button.
“Ugh...”
Courtney looked up, amused at Willam’s interruption. “What, Bill? You got an opinion to share?”
“Yeah. You’re being gross,” Willam said. “And you’ve never acted this way with a guy.”  
“Bianca’s better than a guy,” said Courtney.
Bianca looked up at Willam and offered a little shrug. “My dick vibrates.”
Alaska burst out laughing, looking up from her laptop. “Hard to argue with that logic, eh Will?”
“Whatever,” Willam said, rolling her eyes.
Courtney’s attention was back on Bianca, fingering her button, and Bianca gave a little nod of consent, letting her open it, a sharp inhale immediately following. It was, quite frankly, thrilling to see her so turned on just from a glimpse down her top. And then her head snapped up, almost like getting startled out of a dream, saying, “Alaska…?”
“Yes, Courtney?”
“Do you want to...borrow my bed again?”
“I already put my stuff in your room,” Alaska informed her.
“Oh, okay...beaut.” Courtney slid from Bianca’s lap and sauntered into her bedroom, Bianca quickly scrambling behind.
“Goodnight, guys!” Bianca tossed out.
Courtney gave a little wave to her other roommates before shutting the door firmly, cutting off the sound of their amused laughter. Then she turned and flashed the naughtiest, most wicked grin Bianca had ever seen.
“Lay down.”
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simsadventures · 5 years
Text
After All: Chapter 1: New Beginnings
Summary: It is your first few days at the compound. You meet the team, but Bucky is the one who tries to integrate you the most. 
Warnings: none so far
Word Count: 1460 A/N: This is just a first part, I promise it will get better, I just needed to set the scene. 
This is an out of canon fic. I can’t even set the time in the MCU universe. Bucky is an Avenger, Tony and Natasha never died. Also, I did my research on prosthetic limbs, but I’m no mean an expert, so I apologise in advance if I messed up. 
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Series Masterlist__Masterlist
You couldn’t believe it. Your dreams were coming true faster than you thought possible. You were starting a new job at Stark Industries and couldn’t believe your own luck. It was a dream-come-true for every scientist around the world. You knew you were good at your job, having a PhD in physics and mechanics made you a perfect material for many tech companies. 
And even though you enjoyed your last job- creating mechanic prosthetics for athletes with disabilities, you couldn’t really say no to Tony Stark. He even visited you personally and tried to convince you that a better future awaits you in his company. 
What you didn’t expect was to be one of the lead scientists to work with the Avengers themselves. You thought you’d be more in a lab, working on Stark’s other projects. But he told you that your inventions and ideas were too good to be locked somewhere and wanted to use them to help protect the world. 
The idea of the world’s mightiest heroes surrounding you scared you a little. Let’s just say you weren’t the most outgoing person. You didn’t mind spending your time with people, but more often than not, you ended up on your couch, a good book and a glass of wine. 
You never were the popular girl at school, wearing glasses and braces was enough for the kids to call you a nerd and not really wanting to spend their time with you. You didn’t mind, though. Your parents taught you to be independent and not really care about other’s people’s opinion on you. It still stung a little sometimes, when the kids would call you names or make practical jokes on you. 
But you were a big girl now, and you wouldn’t let anyone treat you like that. You might not be Miss Universe, but you had your value, and you knew all about it. 
Your first few days at the compound were hectic, to say the least. You had to learn all the access codes, cooperate with Friday and meet the whole team. 
When you finally settled, you actually started to do your job. The first thing to look at was Bucky’s arm. You saw it on the television, but you needed to see it with your own eyes. You thought it was beautiful- old-fashioned, but very well crafted. Even if it was constructed by Hydra- the scientist might have been the bad guy and all, but he was good at his job. You could appreciate that. 
You asked Friday to let Mr Barnes know you’d like to see him when he’s got time. You didn’t think that’d be in 20 minutes since you made the call. He walked in all his glory, wearing sweatpants and tightly fitting shirt. You could see his muscles and your mouth watered a little just because of it. 
“Hi, uh, Mr Barnes. I didn’t expect you so soon.” You said and offered him a hand to shook, which he did. “It’s Bucky, love. And wasn’t it you calling me here?” He smirked at you, and you blushed. Great, now you were blushing like a teenage girl who never saw a guy before. “Uhm, yeah, I just- never mind. I would like to have a look at your arm if you don’t mind.” 
You could see he was a little reluctant, so you added, “I think I might make it more comfortable and overall better, Bucky.” He sighed and rolled up his sleeve to show you where his arm was attached to his body. You could see that someone tried to heal his skin and muscle as much as possible, but the weight of the arm was possibly still too much for his organism. 
Tony told you that he tried to make the arm better, but because it was literally a part of Bucky’s body, he thought he’d let you have a better look and find a better solution than Tony’s temporary one. 
“How often do you have to take it off?” 
“I don’t know, every few weeks because of the therapy I’m doing? My shoulder hurt too much after a few weeks, so I have to take it off, we do physiotherapy, and I’m good to go for another few weeks.” 
“Uh-huh.” You just hummed to show you were listening and continued to inspect the arm. Bucky was watching you with interest. 
“And you can do everything with that arm? No limitations at all?” 
“Depends what you mean, doll face, anything you want me to show you?” He smirked at you, and you just laughed it off. Gosh. He was such a flirt! 
“Ok, I think I know what I wanna do with that arm. Can you come in tomorrow morning, so we take all of the measurements and stuff so I can start working on it?” 
“You got it, and btw, don’t you wanna come to a movie night tonight? Most of us will be there, and you can see the arm in daily life,” Bucky winked at you and laughed when you rolled your eyes at him. “Alright, Casanova, I’ll be there.” 
Bucky smiled at you and left your lab. The rest of the day went by just like your morning, Sam and Natasha being the ones who you talked to and looked at their equipment, and made mental notes and preliminary blueprints of what novelties you wanted to show them. 
You loved the job already. The team was really easy to work with, and the resources you suddenly had were immense. You didn’t have to ask for grants and wait for months to be usually denied. Here you just told Tony about your plans and voila, you had all you needed. 
When you were finished for the day, you pretty much ran into your room to get ready for the movie night. You knew you didn’t have to do much, you never did (some mascara would be enough), but you wanted to take a shower and get changed from the lab coat to something more. At least a regular pair of jeans and a t-shirt. 
You were almost done when you heard a light knock on your door. 
“Hey, doll. Here to pick you up, you ready?” you heard Bucky’s voice from behind the door. 
“Yeah, just give me a sec, and I’m with you.” You hollered at him and looked at yourself in the mirror for the last time. Ain’t getting better, you thought to yourself and walked out of the room. You walked side by side, making small talk about your day and his day. Within a few days, you learned that all of the Avengers work out like crazy, preparing for the next possible mission. 
“And so I kicked Steve’s ass so much, you know? The punk was wailing like a little brat!” You had to laugh at his antics. You couldn’t really imagine Captain American himself “wailing like a brat”, but you let Bucky to it. 
When you reached the little cinema built in the compounds, most of the team, and some other agents and lab techs were there. You were happy it wasn’t just the Avengers, you’d probably feel a little out of place. 
Everyone greeted you with a warm smile, and for a second, you really felt like you belonged there. It was a nice feeling, for once. 
Bucky insisted on you sitting next to him, both of you covered in one blanket, popcorn between you. Someone picked the newest Mission Impossible, despite Steve’d loud protests, because he “wanted to watch a classic, these new movies are just a colourful nothing with a plot that could never happen in real life.” This coming from a superhero, mind you. You had to roll your eyes. Brat.
Bucky threw some popcorn in Steve’s direction, which almost resulted in a popcorn battle, has Clint not stood up and started pestering Steve, Bucky, and Sam like little children. 
The whole movie, Bucky kept whispering nonsense into your ear, on how it wasn’t that difficult to jump out of a plane, or how he would beat Tom Cruise’s ass in a battle, single-handedly by his human arm. “Of course you would, Bucky. You’re a freaking superhero, and he is just a normal guy, remember?” He smiled and scooted a little closer to you because “the popcorn’s just too far doll.” 
It was weird, but a good weird, sitting there, next to Bucky, with his hand constantly touching yours. Little butterflies erupted in your stomach, but you tried to shoo them away. Bucky was just being friendly, and there was nothing else to it. He was simply a nice guy showing the ropes of the compound and the team to the new girl. 
But the butterflies didn’t listen anyway. 
Next Chapter > 
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