#all three of those things can lead to huge problems if brought to light | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

once-upon-an-imagine · 1 year

Photo

Playing Nurse

Author: @kjs-s Summary: When Argyle gets sick and Jonathan had plans he asks you to help take care of himPrompt I Used: “Should I stop talking?” || “Don’t, your voice is very soothing.”Word Count: 2140Warning: NoneNote: The italics part are the fairy tale, I hope you like this just as much as i love your stories

“(Y/N) Jonathan is on the phone for you. ” Your mom called out to you while you were daydreaming about a new story to write. You abandoned the notebook in which you had written the new plot to rush to the phone. Jonathan must need you for something important since he never called you to just chat.

“Hi, Jonathan. What is going on?”

“Hi (Y/N), I need a huge favor. I have to drive Will to meet the other kids for a school project and I agreed to help them with it.” He paused to try to figure out how to ask what he wanted and your first thought was that he wanted you to join them.

“No, that’s not it (Y/N). The thing is that Argyle is home sick. So, I was wondering if you could please come by and keep him some company. And if you could give him his medicine in half an hour when you get here.”

“Of course Jonathan, you can count on me. I will try to be over in about twenty minutes.” You informed your mom who allowed you to stay for as long as you were needed. She had met Argyle before and felt like you two would become a great couple.

You reached Jonathan’s house in no time at all and he met you outside to give you instructions on what Argyle needed.

“He will mostly stay on the couch since he has no energy to move and whine about his head hurting. Don’t take it personally if he says that you are not a good nurse. He keeps saying that I have no bedside manners every time I try to help him with anything.”

“Don’t worry about me, I am sure we will be fine. You have fun helping the kids.”

You entered the house and saw Argyle on the couch clenching to the blanket on him. He had water and an empty plate on the table next to him. At first glance, he looked like he was sleeping.

“Argyle can you hear me? Jonathan called me to replace him as your nurse.”

“I am so glad love. You are much nicer than him. Could you please get me some water? And I should get another blanket. It’s freezing in here.” He pouted at you and you loved how cute he looked despite him looking sick and weak.

“I will get those right after you take your medicine. And then I will stay to keep you company.” You gave him his medicine and then brought the water and blanket. You brought him some crackers as well and he smiled at the sight of you trying to carry all of those things to the living room.

“Thank you (Y/N). Will you stay with me until I fall asleep? It won’t be long since I’m way exhausted.” He reached for your hand to plead with you to stay and you took a chair to sit next to him.

“So, how has your day been so far?” He asked you while resting his eyes because the light in the living room was too bright for him.

“Fine, I guess. I was planning what gifts to give everyone for Christmas. And I came up with a great plot for a new story.”

“New story you say? What is this one about?” He always liked hearing your stories and your thought process about how you created all the settings and characters.

“I only have a basic plot so far. I don’t feel I’m ready to talk about it.” He whined at you so you proposed to tell him a fairy tale instead. One that you would come up on the spot with him as the leading man.

“Once upon a time, in a land far away from here there was a very skilled guy who loved to cook. One day he chose to make his favorite type of pizza, a pineapple one. He started looking everywhere for the ingredients for the pizza. He found most of them but there were three ingredients that he didn’t have in his pantry, flour, bacon, and the most important one pineapple.”

You paused for dramatic effect and to check whether Argyle had fallen asleep but he made a gesture for you to continue.

“The problem was that he lived in a secluded part of the land and he had to go through the forest to reach the town. So he asked his best friend and neighbor, who also didn’t have any of the things in her house, to help him go and get them. Right away, they started their journey to retrieve the things he needed and so the adventure began

The forest they had to go through was very dark. But luckily for them, his friend knew about it and had brought a flashlight with her. They were walking carefully on the path. Then all of the sudden they found themselves at a fork in the path.

’‘Which way should we go? Do you remember?’'The handsome hero asked.

’'I don’t recall which way to go. However, my mother who always traveled through the forest used to sing a lullaby to me that said will always help me find the right way.” She tried to remember the song and then she tried humming it so the lyrics will eventually come to her.

<<When you find a fork in the paththen you must know in which way to shalldon’t trust the light, listen to your heart, and know that the right is in the dark.>>

“We must go to the darkest path, I just hope I’m right.”

“I trust you and your cute song to lead us.”

So they chose the darkest path. And they went through a lot of trees to find themselves on the outskirts of the town.

There were no people there so they made their way to the town square to ask for directions. A nice lady saw them and rushed to them.

“Are you two lost? We don’t get too many new people or visitors here.” She seemed curious about the reason they visited the small town.

“We live on the other side of the forest. Can you by any chance help up find the things on this list?” The hero showed her the piece of paper on which he had written the ingredients on.

“The bakery is right over there. For the butcher’s and the grocery store, you have to go round the corner after the bakery. ’'She smiled at them and offered to go with them but they declined so she wouldn’t get tired.”

Mentioning being tired you turned to Argyle and checked on him.

“Argyle should I stop talking to let you sleep?”

“Don’t, your voice is very soothing. I like it as much as I like your smile, and your beautiful hair, and how nice you are. And you in general. And your stories. So please, I need you to finish this one.” He made himself more comfortable on the couch.

“Fine, I will continue then.”

“At first, they went to the bakery. They asked for flour and the baker informed them that they can’t get flour with their coins.

’'To give it to you I will ask you three riddles and only if you answer all of them correctly you will get want you desire.”

“Tell us your riddles.” The hero said since both he and the girl were smart.

“Fine. What has to be broken before you can use it?”

“Easy, an egg.” The girl quickly responded proudly.

“Right, well done. Second one. What lets you look right through a wall?”

They thought for a while and the hero tried to guess when he saw the answer in front of him. A window.

“Right again. Last one. What gets bigger when more is taken away?”

“I think I know the answer to that one. A hole maybe?” The hero hoped he was right and then instead of an answer they were given the flour they needed. They thanked the baker and left for the butcher’s.

They couldn’t pay there with coins. The butcher challenged them to a board or card game of their choice. Seeing the games the butcher had they thought they could win at UNO. So the hero decided to take on the challenge. They started playing and decided to play fine times. Whoever wins the most times get to be the winner. They tied the first four times they played so it was up to the last game to declare the winner. The hero had a bad hand with no special cards and the butcher was smirking throughout the game. The butcher played a plus 4 card near the end but the hero picked all four special cards managing to turn the game around. When the butcher forgot to say UNO when he had just one card and had to take two more cards the hero was declared the winner. But since the victory wasn’t as easy as the hero thought at first they were both tired. That resulted in the hero and his friend staying a while to relax before leaving with the bacon.

The last stop was the grocery store to get the pineapple. The vendor gave them the fruit right away.

“No riddles or games to win for this?” They both asked at the same time.

“I don’t need you to pay for this with the challenges the others had given you. Just tell me what you will use the pineapple for.”

“We will make a pizza. We will make it big enough for both of us.” The hero always used his friend as a helper in the kitchen and he used her ideas for new recipes from time to time.

“If you can spare a slice for me I will take it as payment.” They both agreed and went back home to start baking.

The road home was easier since they recalled the way to go through the forest.

“So, a pineapple pizza for three?” The friend asked.

“No, I have enough to make an extra large pizza as big as three small ones. We will make one like that to give to all who helped us today. When the extra large pizza is ready we will send an invitation to the baker, the butcher, the vendor, and the lady who showed us the way.”

And that’s what they did and all six of them had a feast worthy of kings and queens.“

You finished the fairy tale and heard laughter next to you.

’'Cute story, I hope I had heard the entirety of it and not just the ending.” Jonathan told you after checking that Argyle had fallen asleep.

“He told me he likes me earlier.” You didn’t want to admit to even yourself that your heart was beating faster just by talking about it.

“He does. Do you feel the same?”

“I do. But what should I do about it?” You asked Jonathan, glancing at the sleeping guy to make sure he hadn’t heard anything.

“Come by tomorrow morning to have breakfast with us and you will talk to him then.”

Just as Jonathan instructed you, you went by the next morning. Argyle was still asleep so you helped Jonathan make three different kinds of pancakes for everyone.

Argyle woke up only to find nobody around him.

“Is anyone here? My head still hurts but otherwise, I feel better if anyone is wondering.”

You were next to him right away.

“Jonathan and I are making breakfast for all of us. You stay here. We got it covered.” You started to leave but turned around since you two were alone and had all the privacy to talk.

“Actually Argyle can we talk about something.”

“Sure what’s going on?”

“Last night while I was telling you a story you mentioned everything you like about me so I should return the favor.” He seemed embarrassed about what he had said. He remembered all of it but thought he had dreamt about it.

“I like your smile too, your great hugs can make me feel safe. And your great sense of humor and your amazing hair. I generally like you a lot as well.”

“I like that. I like it so much that I feel I could kiss you right now.” He approached you but you backed away.

“Not right now. You are still sick. So, just settle down and let me help Jonathan in the kitchen. You are having breakfast on the couch today and we will keep you company. But I wouldn’t reject a thank you hug when I bring the pancakes over.”

He laughed and sat back down. And just as you already knew the thank you for breakfast hug from Argyle was a perfect way to start your day.

**********************************************

oh my God! I cannot express how much I loved this!!! not just the story itself but the fact that you thought about this story for me! THANK YOU SOOOO INCREDIBLY MUCH, LOVE!!! this is the best present ever! I loved EVERY SINGLE PART OF IT! from the moodboard to Argyle basically living with the Byers and complaining about Jonathan not being a good nurse and wanting you instead and the way he confessed his feelings just out of the blue!! every single thing was just beyond PERFECT!!!! thank you so, so, soooo much, love!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

#submission #submission by kjs-s #christmas present #best gift ever #stranger things #stranger things imagine #argyle #argyle imagine #argyle x reader #argyle oneshot #argyle submission

18 notes · View notes

ksfc · 2 years

Text

How to choose an outdoor power supply? - STW

The circle of friends who have been baptized by the "picnic style" is now occupied by various camping curtains. During the post-pandemic period, people are looking forward to eco-tourism more than ever. About three or five confidants to escape from the city by chance, go on a self-driving tour to build up your mind and body; or take your family and children to the suburban wilderness to build a curtain on weekends, bask in the sun and blow the wind, and then have a rich meal. Picnic... And those beautiful implementations must have full wind protection: lighting and heating, big brother, camera battery life, those who take a picnic with a baby, always deliberately cook some hot food, rather than eat some fast food, boil water and burn out without electricity

Some outdoor enthusiasts will use disposable portable gas tanks to deal with cooking problems, but

First, it is necessary to purchase a gas stove with a special door for use.

The second is that a stove cannot boil water and cook vegetables at the same time; the most important thing is that you will inevitably stumble while driving, and you will be troubled by life and stability.

In the past, there was another solution to lead the outdoor motor, but the purchase of fuel was not in line with ordinary homes, and the roaring music and the strong smell of gasoline were also the reasons why many people stopped.

In comparison, a smart and portable outdoor power supply is much more practical. Compared with the gas tank, it is stable and more effective; compared with the motor, it is exquisite, environmentally friendly and quiet.

One: power

The size of the power determines what appliances this power supply can inspire, which also determines what you can do with it outdoors. Even if it is just to charge the big brother, laptop, drone, lighting, etc. outdoors, the power of 100w is enough. Even if you want to have an outdoor picnic, use a few small portable household appliances, such as rice cookers. , outdoor kettle, low-power electric discharge, etc., you need more than 500w of power.

Two: Content

The content is the most important specification of dry batteries. It determines how long it can last for a full charge. The mobile power supply we usually use generally uses Bo ampere hours (mah), but outdoor dry batteries with large content will use wh action units, because it is converted into mah. The numbers are huge. The electricity we are familiar with is 1000wh.

3. Look at the stability instinct

The stability of the outdoor power supply, except for the use of high-quality batteries and high-grade fireproof materials, is also related to the quality of the inverter waveform and shell materials. Let’s talk about the conclusion first: the sine wave is quieter than the correction wave; the stability of the plastic casing is better than that of the non-metal casing.

There are generally two types of inverters for outdoor power supplies, namely rectifying waves (also known as square waves) and sine waves. When supplying power to resistance electrical appliances (such as rice cookers, light bulbs, led lights), the input power of the two is not much distinguishable, but even with electronic induction appliances (hand drill, electric fan, a few electrical appliances ), the correction wave will take a big discount, the nominal input power of 500w can only inspire water appliances within 200w.

In contrast, the AC input of the sine wave outdoor power supply is a sinusoidal arc, which is similar to the AC AC of the mains, the waveform is quiet, does not interfere with the water installation, the use of speakers will not produce noise, and it can be brought within the range of their respective nominal power. of all electrical appliances.

Outdoor power supplies are generally used outdoors or in vehicles, which are inevitably bumped, dropped, squeezed, and in extreme cases, will show bumps and rolling. In order to maintain the lithium dry battery cells inside, there must be a tough and tough shell.

0 notes

outerbankies · 3 years

Note

You know how teenager rafe is gonna just be spiralling over reader going to prom with someone else? I’m going to cry cause like he’s a baby and he doesn’t know why he has these feeling for this one person that he’s always kind of orbited around?? And he knows she’s it for him but only deep down cause he’s trying to figure so much out and how could you know who you’re going to end up with at the age of 17 let alone 10 or 12 but he’s always known and aaaaah imagine that kind of love

an angsty little pre-series prom blurb partially inspired by this ^ ask that made me spiralll. thanks anon i hope u like this!

—

new light blurb: before we knew — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

obv takes place pre-series in high school! referenced in part 1

warnings: underage drinking

“Top, it’s not fucking funny.”

“It’s kinda fucking funny, Y/n/n. Like, way more than a little.”

Rafe had ditched the last fifteen minutes of statistics when he finished his test early today, and he’d been messing around on his phone for ten minutes waiting for the rest of you to come and get in Topper’s Jeep so you could all go to lunch off-campus today.

Rafe stands up straight from where he’d been leaning against the hood when he hears your voice approaching, his smile matching yours once you see him. “Hey, Rafe. How did your stats test go?”

“Good, hey, Y/n. What’s not funny?” he asks, opening the passenger side door for you before sliding into the backseat behind you.

“Oh, get this, Rafe,” Topper says, laughing. You just groan again, clicking your seatbelt on. “Griffin is gonna ask Y/n to prom. Tomorrow.”

Rafe blanches. “Griffin?”

He knew Griffin thought you were hot. Certainly had to hear it enough times in the pool at practice every day. Rafe always found himself biting back a remark—well, almost always. As captain, Rafe was able to tell everyone to run another play whenever he felt like it. The extra exertion in the pool was nothing compared to having to tread water and hear his teammate talk about you like that.

But even after all of that, he still had no idea Griffin had the balls to actually make a move on you. Because Rafe could tell you’d seriously rather die than ever give Griffin the time of day. And Griffin had been pursuing you without luck for months, even though you’d been trying to gently show you weren’t interested. Half of the time, Rafe wished you'd just tell him to fuck off.

The other half of the time, Rafe was considering just doing it for you.

Rafe clears his throat after his outburst, a finger digging into a hole in his jeans. “How do you know?”

“He just told me in PE,” Topper says. “He said he has this huge banner, and speakers, and he’s gonna do it at lunch right in the middle of the quad—”

“Topper.” You cut him off a bit more seriously this time; Rafe can hear the shift in your tone. You've always hated being anywhere close to the center of attention, getting embarrassed by the smallest things others wouldn’t even think about. If Griffin actually knew anything about you the way Rafe does, he’d know you wouldn’t like something big and flashy. “Can you stop?”

“Hey, cut it out, Top,” Rafe is saying immediately. Topper just rolls his eyes, but Rafe doesn’t care. “You okay?”

“Yeah, Rafe,” you say, smiling over your shoulder at him. “M’fine.”

“Do you want me to tell Griffin to—”

Topper laughs from the driver’s seat, clearing his throat to cover it up when you look over at him. You look back at Rafe, and his heart breaks at the worry in your face. “Don’t, Rafe.”

“Are you gonna say yes?”

“No,” you immediately laugh, looking at him like the idea is preposterous.

“Oh c’mon, Y/n/n. Can’t say no to him in front of all those people,” Topper teases. “And where the fuck is Kelce? I’m starving.”

“You’re right,” you sigh. “I don’t wanna embarrass him. I’ll just find him after school today and tell him I’m going with Kelce.”

Topper’s eyes widen, Rafe catches it in the rearview mirror before he hurriedly looks away. Rafe clears his throat, settling back into his seat from where he’d been leaning into the front space to talk with you. “You—uh, are you actually going with Kelce?”

“Yeah,” you nod, distracted by your phone. “We said we’d go together if we didn’t find dates. Kelce didn’t really wanna ask anyone after what happened last summer. And after nearly being set up with Top last night, I’m about ready to throw in the towel.“

Rafe looks to his friend that sits in the driver’s seat, who's looking straight at his lap, the back of his neck bright red. “Wait, you two?”

“It was just our parents, dude. Went to dinner at the club last night and our moms brought it up,” Topper mumbles. You giggle at the idea, completely unaware of the energy in the car right now.

“Yeah, sorry, Thornton. But no thanks. You and Emily should be really cute, though,” you say earnestly, patting his shoulder.

Topper just stares straight ahead. “Thanks, Y/n/n.”

“And then this thing with Griffin—I’m just so over the idea of finding an actual date at this point,” you sigh. “Plus, I know Kelce won’t put up a fight about the color scheme. I’m thinking like, aqua. Or maybe pink? I don't think I'd look good in gold.”

You'll look good in absolutely anything, and Rafe will just have to watch you from across the floor of the Island Club, while Kelce twirls you around the dance floor or holds you close during a slow dance.

The guy in question opens the car door and slides into the backseat next to Rafe right then, sighing as he slides his backpack off. “Sorry guys, coach stopped me in the hall. Where are we eating?”

Rafe glares at him.

“I want a smoothie,” you declare from the front seat.

“Fine with me,” Topper nods, pulling out of his parking spot. “Guys?”

“Can we go to that place with the deli next door? I’m so hungry,” Kelce says.

“Yeah, I like their açaí bowls,” you say, twisting around to look at Rafe one more time. He must not be able to hide his emotions as much as he thought, because your smile drops when you see him. “Rafe? Does that sound good?”

He turns his body to look out the window, eyes flicking back to yours one last time. “Not hungry.”

—

Rafe meets Topper and Kelce at the dock later that night, the three of them intending to get drunk and maybe take Topper’s boat out if they felt like it.

Kelce is already there by the time Rafe pulls up, drinking a beer with Topper while they laugh at something on his phone.

And Rafe paces right down the dock, snatches Kelce’s phone out of his hand, and pushes him off the platform and into the water.

“Rafe, dude,” Topper says, immediately pushing him back by his chest.

“What the fuck?” Kelce sputters, spitting out water as he surfaces and climbs the ladder back up. “What is your fucking problem?”

“You couldn’t ask literally fucking anyone else? It had to be Y/n?” Rafe says, laughing indignantly. He looks down at where Topper is still keeping them separated. “And you—what the fuck—”

“I told you, man. It was just our moms. We didn’t even consider it,” Topper says, rolling his eyes.

“You both lied to me,” Rafe accuses. “Because you knew I’d be mad.”

“And why’s that, Rafe?” Kelce spits, reaching around Topper to try and push at his chest. “Why are you mad? Not like you were gonna ask her.”

“No,” Rafe says immediately. And he isn’t even lying; it’d never crossed his mind as a possibility. Which is why he can’t even begin to try and work out why he’s this upset about it. He didn’t do anything to stop this, but it’s still happening, and it’s making him crazy. “You know my dad’s making me take Reagan since we’re both on prom court.”

“That’s what I thought,” Kelce grumbles. “I was gonna tell you.”

“When?”

“Soon, I just—we made the plan so long ago, bro. Neither of us wanted to worry about dates… but I gave it time because I thought you might—I dunno,” Kelce trails off, shrugging. “I dunno.”

“Thought I might what?”

“Figure your shit out and ask her yourself,” Topper says, coming back from the boathouse with a towel that he passes to Kelce.

“Even if I could, Y/n/n would never say yes to me,” Rafe scoffs, shaking his head and reaching for the six-pack they were working through.

Topper scoffs back. “Oh, yeah ri—”

“Guess we’ll never know,” Kelce says, cutting him off while he dumps the water out of his shoes. He sighs at his soaked clothes before he looks back up at Rafe. “You know I’m not into her right? We’re just going as friends. It’s senior prom.”

“Why would I care what you’re going as?” Rafe says, shifting in discomfort, hand clutching his already-half-empty beer can a little tighter. “None of it even matters.”

“Whatever you wanna tell yourself, bro,” Kelce sighs, grabbing his phone out of Rafe’s hand and pushing past him to go change.

—

“Nice taste, Y/l/n.”

You whirl around from where you’d been adjusting Kelce’s boutonnière (you’d only pricked him twice, which was a personal record for you) at the sound of Rafe’s voice, plastering on a smile before you face him. Your eyes drop to his attire immediately. “Oh shit, Rafe. We match.”

“I know,” he laughs. “My step-mom wants a picture.”

You furrow your eyebrows, shifting in your heels, the tule of your dress suddenly itchy against your legs. “Um. Shouldn’t you take one with Reagan?”

“We already took a million. From every angle. With every possible fucking pose,” Rafe sighs. “C’mon, please? Before the limo comes.”

Rafe grabs your hand and you look back at Kelce who just nods, downing some champagne. “Take care of my date, Cameron.”

You can see Rafe just shake his head where you trail behind him, leading you back to where Rose is talking to one of the other moms. “There you are. Your dress is beautiful! I wish we'd found one like that for Reagan. It looks great with Rafe's tuxedo.”

“Uh, yeah. It's nice to see you, Mrs. Cameron,” you say politely, ignoring the last half of what she said completely. She pulls up her phone and Rafe’s bringing you into his side, his hand resting in the middle of your back.

“This okay?” he murmurs, his breath fanning over your neck as he leans down.

“Yep,” you say quickly, but you can’t help but look around and catch multiple of your friends watching you, including Reagan, who promptly rolls her eyes once you make eye contact with her.

“Y/n, sweetie, just a few pictures for the newsletter,” Rose says, reminding you of your purpose right now.

“Right, sorry,” you say.

“Hey,” Rafe whispers. You look up at him, feeling his hand bring you closer to his body. “Take this a little more seriously, Y/l/n. Don’t you know that the next issue of the Island Club newsletter will be completely ruined without this one specific photo, that will probably be squished into the corner of a terribly- edited collage?”

You laugh in surprise, hitting him on his chest for joking about his step-mom right in front of her. “Rafe. Be nice.”

He just grins down at you, before straightening up and turning back to the camera. “If I’m nice, will you save a dance for me later tonight?”

You’re glad he’s not looking at you anymore, because then he’d see the way your smile faltered before you turn back to the camera as well. “Sure.”

—

“How is my flask empty?” Kelce groans, tipping it over and shaking it out for emphasis.

“That’s what happens when you drink it all, bud,” you laugh, patting his shoulder. He rolls his eyes at you, linking his arm in yours as you both pass through the crowd to find Topper and his date, Emily. You all watch Rafe up on stage, waiting to inevitably be crowned prom king.

He was a shoo-in anyway, but you’d definitely distracted your English teacher with a conversation about the 1984 essay you just turned in while Topper and Kelce stuffed the ballot box he was meant to be guarding.

Rafe seemed like he couldn’t care less about stuff like prom court, just shaking his head when his name was announced over the speaker as a nominee three weeks ago at lunch.

And he’d dragged his feet through finding a date, just shrugging whenever you brought it up to him, prying partially for your own sake.

You couldn’t figure out why he seemed so averse to the entire event, but you supposed that was better than having to hear him go on and on about Reagan and how he asked her and what corsage he bought for her and if he was bringing her to after-prom—or anything else that would’ve dragged up some feelings you thought you’d firmly buried at this point, telling yourself for years that you never stood a chance with Rafe.

But the closer graduation got, the more you’ve been realizing that things with your friends would never be the same. Things with Rafe would never be the same.

“Kildare Academy, your prom king is Rafe Cameron,” the DJ says, snapping you out of your thoughts. Kelce and Topper cheer obnoxiously while you laugh, a little grateful they’re both drunk and distracted—so happy their plan worked (Rafe subtly flips them off behind his back as he’s crowned) that they can’t notice the way your shoulders slump as Rafe leads Reagan, just crowned queen, out to the middle of the dance floor while some Ed Sheeran song starts playing through the speakers. You’d roll your eyes at the terrible music selection if that was what you could focus on.

All you could focus on was wondering if Rafe would even remember that you promised him a dance tonight.

Kelce is dramatically bringing you into his arms as the prom court dance takes place, subtly turning you around so your back faces the stage and the court, smiling as he holds your waist. “C’mon, dance with me.”

—

Rafe’s letting go of Reagan as soon as the song ends and everybody cheers, dashing off to the DJ booth after telling her he’d be back in a bit. She merely shrugged before adjusting her crown and going off to some friends.

“Hey man, can I pull some prom king privilege right now?” he says, leaning in to speak into the guys’ ear. “I have a song request.”

“Playlist is set, approved by the school,” he says dismissively.

“Thought you might say that,” Rafe grumbles, reaching into his breast pocket before he can take the time to wonder if he’s really going to do this—if he’s really going to bribe the DJ to play a song by your favorite band before he goes to cash in on that dance together that you’d promised.

He hands him a crisp hundred.

The DJ sighs, snatching it out of his hand and pocketing it while Rafe smirks in victory. “Alright, what song, country club?”

And then it's practically a race to find you before the Kid Cudi remix currently playing ends. Rafe heads off in the direction where Topper and Kelce had been yelling when he was on stage, evening his pace when he spots you jumping around with Kelce, your dress fanning around you while you laugh, the string lights illuminating your face.

You’re smiling so big that it stops Rafe in his tracks.

Guys had always shown interest in you, and you turned most of them down. Not all of them; Rafe still had to see you with guys who absolutely did not deserve you giving them the time of day, sometimes at parties or maybe at the Club. Rafe could usually lie to himself, write off these feelings as some protectiveness over you, a nice girl who’d been a good friend to him his entire life. Rafe was protective of all the people he held close in his life, why wouldn’t he look out for you, too?

But something must have changed, because now—now Rafe’s looking at you, and he knows time is running out before you both set off on your futures. He has three weeks of school left with you, then a summer of seeing you around. And then... that's it.

And now he’s looking at you, those feelings less and less ignorable with every single second closer Rafe gets to not having you around him every day anymore.

Those feelings are crowding every corner of his mind, finally coming to the surface after all of the drama with prom dates had forced Rafe to wonder why he couldn’t stand you going with Griffin or Topper or Kelce. Couldn’t stand thinking about you ever being with someone that wasn’t him—a reality he knows he’d have to get used to you a lot quicker than it took him to even realize he’d fallen for you.

Because the future’s coming, and maybe in the future you actually end up with someone like Griffin, or Mateo, or that guy from the party that one time, or that touron from New England that your parents tried to set you up with, some hotshot you brought home from California after a semester, or Kelce—even Topper. Your parents would love that one. And one day in this future, you’re running into Rafe on the soccer field; your kids play for the same team together. Rafe ended up settling for someone he could never like half as much as he loved you, and he sees you across the field with a sweater tied around your shoulders, chatting with all of the other moms. The lucky asshole you finally chose just watches you the way Rafe always had, the way he is now as you dance with his best friend, the way Rafe will probably never be able to stop himself from doing.

Or maybe there's another future without you, where you move away to somewhere that suits you; the Outer Banks had never good enough for you, in his mind. Maybe you stay in California after school. And you bring home that hotshot that’s perfectly matched for you, who gets to hold you and kiss you and have you. Rafe only gets to see you every once in a while, when you decide to grace the Outer Banks with your presence for the holidays or for Midsummers. Maybe in this scenario, Rafe was never able to find someone else, maybe he shows up solo while you flash your engagement ring when the old crew gets together for drinks—no, you wouldn’t do that. You’d be absolutely smitten with whoever won your heart, showing the ring he got you to your girl friends with an embarrassed little smile pulling at your lips while they all gush over it. And maybe one of your friends jokes about how Rafe used to have a crush on you. You'll just laugh and shrug it off, nodding—because you knew all along. Of course you knew, everyone had to know at this point. And Rafe can picture you merely laughing at his feelings for you as the other guy gets to pull you closer on his lap.

The opening chords of your song snap him out of his reverie. He can see the exact moment you realize what song it is.

Rafe beelines for you, holding his hand out as soon as he’s in your vicinity, fully pretending he hadn’t just realized he’s fallen for one of his closest friends in the middle of prom. Like he hadn't realized that he wasn't just into you, didn't just think you were cute or like the way you made him feel when you remembered his stats tests or wore his shirt to his water polo games. Like he hadn't just realized that no matter how many times he'd told himself it didn't bother him that much that you'd never come close to giving him the time of day, that he'd never forget what it felt like to not even be on your radar.

“You promised me a dance, Y/n.”

You look at him and his outstretched hand and smile, then look back to Kelce, who's quickly letting you out of his arms, casting an accusatory glance at Rafe. But then he smiles a little. “I'm gonna hit the restrooms.”

“Too bad our one dance is gonna be to a song by a band you hate,” you laugh, accepting Rafe's hand. Rafe’s on autopilot, his hands resting on your lower back while yours move to his chest, swaying the two of you in little circles. The song is already through with the first verse.

“I don’t hate this band,” he lies. But maybe it’s not a lie—how could he hate anything you loved?

“Okay, prom king,” you laugh, fiddling with his pocket square a little, the one that matches your dress. “Still can’t believe we ended up matching.”

“Great minds, Y/l/n,” he shrugs, eyes trained on your face. Your hands slip up around his shoulders, and you nudge the plastic crown on his head before leaving your arms to rest there, fingers locked behind his neck. Rafe pulls you closer. The second chorus was already starting up. Time was running out.

“I’m not sure what the optics are of our matching and you leaving the prom queen to come dance with your friend,” you say, your small smile turning into a frown. “Reagan already seemed pissed earlier.”

“Don’t worry about her,” Rafe says. “It’s just you and me right now.”

“When we go off to college, I think I might just miss you, Cameron,” you say, smiling.

And Rafe might not ever get to tell you how he feels, or ever be with you the way he wants to, but at least he got to dance with you at his senior prom.

“I know I'm gonna miss you.”

—

@moniamaybank @downbytheouterbanks @littlementalpolaroids @fangirlvoice @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @pogueslandia @loveylangdon @oopsiedoopsie23 @sodasback @rafeseggplant @cooper8224 @rafeyybabyy @lemur46 @cameronsrafe @theepoguelandia @judayyyw @irlpadfoot @synonymforlame @tinawhynot @mildkleptomaniac @ilymarkchan @sofiatheseconf @hockeyshmockey @supersouthy @coffeeandcrimeshows @emptyloverofmine @infinitleyethereal @nerdypartytrashpsychic @mrs-cameron @tcmhollnd @nicavass @sakikos @catonthesideoftheroad @jemimah-b99 @serrendipiity @depressinq @svechnibrock @julianakawaja @ctrlcherries @lostaurorax @wildflower98 @babygirl2022 @lieswithoutfairytales @painlesslies @messagesinthesky @orrsoared @destourtereaux @sammywilscn @tylernagle @anonymousobxfan @lilacsandwhiskey @raphaelcameron @mardema @princesspogue @alwaysclassyeagle @brittlehe-art @drewswrld

528 notes · View notes

ghostofbambifanfiction · 3 years

Text

Part 1 of ?????

Started writing this fic a while ago and then lost faith in it. Should I continue? Feel bad for not posting much lately so I thought I'd share this. Read on and weigh in.

COME OUT TONIGHT

You don't have to fucking shout?

Said the pot to the kettle?

Oh you grandmother The caps were an accidental by-product of voice-to-text Blame Siri if you're going to blame anyone

You have a Samsung Galaxy S20.

HAD. It got smashed. Worst luck. Listen, come out with me tonight.

Urghhhhhhhhhhhhhh I'm tired!

https://www.boots.com/wellness/vitaminsandsupplements/vitamins-supplements-shop-by-ingredient/echinacea

Hah (indifferent)

Just come out with me! Isaac has to go see some godawful student performance of the Antigone in wherever the fuck Chichester is and it's Sirius's flatmate's birthday party so I have to go and I don't know any of his weird mates

You don't HAVE to go.

Have to/want to Semantics

I'm not in a birthday party mood. I'm having a stressful week. My arse has been tense since Tuesday.

I will wade into the deep and massage your arse if I have to, just come It's a swank pad in Belgravia! I bet they'll have all sorts of expensive nibbles!

I read that as expensive nipples.

Those too!

Partying it up with the children of wealthy Tories. Sounds super fun.

Just come out with me, for fuck I'll pick you up at 7 and we can steal their silverware if it's boring as the grave

URGH I'll go but I'm NOT dressing up!

You don't have to dress up!

FINE!

take the drawings down please i'm begging you i'm actually begging you

Nah mate

siriusssssssss pleeeeeease

Nah

PLEASE

Nah

PLEASE ffs it's MY birthday!!!! there are going to be PEOPLE there! standing around! AT EYE LEVEL

I don't see what the problem is.

EVERYONE will see what the problem is! they literally will not be able to IGNORE what the problem is!

Sounds like a recipe for lively discussion to me tbh

that is NOT what i want people talking about at my birthday!

If I take them down, I'll have to take all the nails out and that'll leave nail marks all over the walls. It would be unsightly.

MORE UNSIGHTLY THAN YOUR DICK, SIRIUS?

My dick is bewitching.

DIE

She walks in expecting to find herself the infiltrator of a Made in Chelsea/Royal Ascot/Henley Regatta netherworld, filled with a gaggle of giggling, SW-postcode socialites wielding suspiciously powder-edged Harrods Amex cards in the place of horses and boats, but that's not what actually greets her on the other side of the lacquered front door.

What greets her is really quite ordinary.

Aside from the naked drawings of Kingsley's mate, which aren't.

Otherwise, the whole affair is pretty relaxed. People her age are clustered in their small groups, swigging beers. There's a table of oven-heated party foods, salty snacks and rapidly depleting ramekins of guac. She spies more band shirts than there are dress shirts. There's a round of Fortnite in full swing on the TV.

It's all just...startlingly normal. A normal birthday party.

And that's sort of embarrassing, really.

Where are all the visible Tory toffs, she wonders? Where is the braying laughter? The Eton alumni reunion? The glimpse of hunting-happy tweed and shotgun barrels as a coat cupboard door swings shut? Where's the indelible air of sneering superiority, of "we're richer and more privileged and better than you, so fuck the NHS and death to foxes!" that she'd been expecting? There's a fucking Henry Hoover in the corner of the hall, for Christ's sake. Lily came here to smile through her teeth at them all, to listen to the champagne problems privilege that bubbled from their lips and tell herself that she was the one who knew better, who thought better. Her plain white tee and skinny jeans and scuff-toed, high-top trainers were supposed to be a statement, a subtle setting-apart, but she's not even the most underdressed person in the room.

She pre-judged a house full of people. What's that about?

There's a lesson to be found in this. Perhaps.

James covered all of the dicks in Paw Patrol stickers that he bought from the newsagent on his way home from his mum's, but Sirius peeled them all off while he was taking a soothing lavender bath, so what's the bloody point in birthdays anyway?

It's early in the evening, and he's wedged—against his will—between the dining room bar and Shane Ruttle, who has just pointed at one of the many lamentable dicks and asked, "Is this one of yours?" which James kind of wants to thump him for. It's bad enough that he looks like a madman who stuffed his house with naked drawings of his brother, now people are actually assuming that he drew the damn things, even though most of the compositions are appallingly far beneath his skill level. He's a professional illustrator, for the love of god, and Shane is really standing before him like the posturing prick he is, asking him if he's the one who drew Sirius with one arm disproportionately longer than the other.

He knows that he should cheer up.

It is his birthday. There is cake.

Good cake, too, not the kind that gets buried in too-thick fondant that he has to pick off before he can eat what's underneath.

The problem is, there's also a party, and his friends are his friends, Peter and Sirius included, and Peter and Sirius can both get drunk much faster than James can. When Peter and Sirius get drunk, serious injuries tend to follow, Remus tends to fuck off in a flash and James tends to be the one who calls for an ambulance or mothers them back to health—physical, mental or otherwise. He has just turned twenty-six, and these repeated, drunkenly dramatic medical emergency scenes are starting to wear a little thin.

Can't a man get comfortably drunk and have a laugh at his own birthday party?

No, he can't, because Peter's already halfway to trashed, wobbling unsteadily towards the French doors that lead to the terrace, wearing that look on his face that says I'm definitely going to vomit or maybe even shit myself like I did on that one night we all spent in Munich with the Belgian handball team and the creepy tour guide who couldn't keep his sleazy hands to himself. For the sake of sparing the lawn such a punishment, James hastily removes himself from Shane, grabs Peter by the collar, shoves him in the direction of the downstairs loo and retreats to the safety of the living room, where there are, at least, no naked drawings of Sirius gracing the walls.

Most of the people in here are transfixed by Saffy Stephens, who is down to the last three in her Fortnite game and cursing like a sailor, but there are a small pile of birthday cards on the end table where James and Sirius normally keep their keys. He perches on the sofa arm, sets his half-drunk beer bottle on the carpet, pushes his dark, disheveled hair away from his forehead and begins leafing through them. It's a necessity when one lives with Sirius, who thinks nothing of swiping gift cards when the mood strikes him and he's had enough to drink.

They're mostly from his female friends, and all pretty standard, until he reaches the middle of the pile and finds a card bearing a picture of a moustached tabby and the caption: Have a Purr-fect Birthday!

The inscription inside is written in a lovely, swirling hand.

To Jasper/Jack/Jason/maybe Ja Rule?/J-something idk

(see above: everything I've learned about you from the friend* I came here with, verbatim)

(*who can't remember your name)

Happy Birthday! Thank you for (not) specifically inviting me, a stranger, to your party to celebrate this momentous event in your life. Please enjoy this festive card/social nicety/convention from me to you. My friend brought rum which you may prefer.

I'll be around. Not that you'll know.

James lowers the card and twists on the sofa arm at once, eyes darting around the room in search of its author, as if they might be laying in wait to watch him read it and see how he reacts. Nobody appears to have ducked behind the couch, however, so the situation merits further scrutiny.

Obviously, he needs to meet this person.

A mystery! At his birthday party!

He perks right up after that.

She's coming out of the downstairs loo when a short, blonde man in a garish Hawaiian shirt barrels past her and pukes all over the chequerboard tiled floor, narrowly missing her jeans.

"Oh no," he moans into his wet hands. "Oh no—"

"There there, mate," says Lily consolingly, never one to judge somebody for getting drunk early at a party. She pats him on the back before squeezing past him and rejoining Kingsley, who is standing in one of this meandering Georgian house's many hallways, chatting to a bloke in a houndstooth sweater vest and holding two glasses of something very, very sparkly that she must try at once.

"It's like...it's like everything and nothing at the same time," Houndstooth Bloke is saying when Lily draws close, gesturing to a huge canvas painting of a rain-soaked fairground at night.

"Is it?" Kingsley asks.

"Mmm. Very." Houndstooth shakes his shoulders like he's slipping out of a robe. "Meant to be esoteric, I suppose."

That sounds suspiciously like pretentious bullshit to Lily, who doesn't find the concept of a merry looking fairground all that difficult to absorb. Kingsley knows more about the art world than she does, but he must agree with her assessment because he grunts and shoves her glass into her hand when she stops beside him, and more roughly than she deserves, as if she's the one who landed him in this mess of a conversation to begin with.

Trust him to find himself stuck with the only dick (not etched by a 4B Steadtler graphite pencil) in the building, and trust her to be stuck with the person who got himself stuck with King.

"What are we talking about?" she asks brightly, just to fuck with him.

"Drink your champagne, there's a good little hen," King mutters, his teeth clenched together, hallway lights bouncing off the smoothly waxed dome of his bald head.

"We've been discussing this piece." Houndstooth nods to the painting, but his limpid eyes narrow on Lily's face. "Christ, you're very redheaded, aren't you?"

It's decided. She'll wait 'til Houndstooth is drunk and trip him up with Henry Hoover's hose.

"Ergo soulless, yes," she agrees.

"And you...enjoy that?" he asks, as if being redheaded is her profession.

"Very much, thanks."

"Hmmp. Well. I came here with Saffron," he announces, pronouncing it Sef-ron. As if Lily is supposed to know who that is. "Platonically, of course. Actually, we're some sort of cousins, I think. What do you think the artist is trying to convey?"

He's very pointedly asking her, so Lily blinks at the painting, her eyes on the outstretched arm of a child on the carousel.

"I like the pretty colours," she decides aloud.

"Right," says Houndstooth, "but that's not—"

"And the lights, too. The lights are really pretty."

"But—"

"I love funfairs, actually," she brightly continues, finding a strange satisfaction in playing dumb in front of Houndstooth and his overbleached fade. Although she does really like the colours. "Haven't been to one in years!"

"Yes, good, whatever, but what is the artist trying to convey?"

"What artist?" comes a voice from behind them.

Lily glances over her shoulder and finds herself looking up at the man whose penis she's spent the past thirty minutes avoiding eye contact with, though he is taller, better proportioned and infinitely more beautiful than any of those crudely drawn depictions could possibly convey. He is also beplumed and bejewelled like a pirate, wearing a sumptuous velvet jacket over a loose white shirt, numerous rings on his fingers and an assortment of silver chains around his slender neck, while his grey eyes and elegantly high-set cheekbones are framed by a tumble of black hair that genuinely looks like silk.

The man is so beautiful, in fact, that Lily immediately wonders why he's been taking sketches home from the life drawing class that he and Kingsley pose for—hence their acquaintance and Lily's presence at this party—when nothing she's seen tonight has done him any justice.

Most happily, his penis is tucked safely out of sight.

"Alright, Sirius?" says King.

"Alright, Marvel?" Sirius claps a hand to the taller man's massive shoulder. Kingley's muscles bulge in a way that cannot be hidden by modern habiliments. "What are we talking about?"

"Not much." Houndstooth looks put out by the arrival of yet another person. "We were just mesmerised by this piece."

Lily refrains from gesturing to the painting with both hands and a "ta-dah!" choosing instead to sip her champagne.

It's very good champagne. Mmm. Yes.

"Oh, yeah, it's really something," Sirius agrees. He brushes past Kingsley and runs a finger over the illegible squiggle of a signature on the canvas. His nails are beautifully manicured. "Local guy, young up-and-comer. I assume you've heard of Algernon?" he asks Houndstooth, fixing him with a steely-eyed stare.

"Er, yes." Houndstooth's gaze slides from Sirius to the painting. "I know him."

Sirius's eyebrows lift. "Know him personally?"

"Well—"

"That's so weird, I heard he never speaks to people."

Houndstooth chews on the inside of his cheek, weighing up the challenge. "How…funny."

"Funny?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just, I know I've spoken to him before, and since you've bought his painting I assumed that you'd have—"

"That is funny, actually," Sirius interrupts, "because the artist is my brother, and Algernon is the name of his cat."

Kingsley has been tugging on his earring and almost rips it out of his ear as his body convulses, champagne spraying from his nostrils, while an alarming red flush sweeps across Houndstooth's face and he begins to sputter on his own self-importance. Sirius has clearly decided that he's done with all of that noise, however, because he turns back to Lily instead, looking her up and down with great and sudden interest.

"Who's this then?" he asks Kingsley, cocking his head to one side. "James's present?"

The champagne glass swings down and Lily fixes him with a deadpan stare. "Excuse me?"

Sirius slants a grin at Kingsley, a quick flash of teeth. "This one's queenly, isn't she?"

Kingsley wipes his nose with the back of his hand and laughs again. "Hardly."

"This is Primark, mate," Lily retorts, tugging on her t-shirt.

"Queenliness is a state of mind," says Sirius, "not a state of wardrobe."

"You had me marked down as a prostitute not ten seconds ago."

"Oh, that. I was only joking," he sighs, and grips her arm at the elbow, his long fingers cool against her skin. "But still, you're far too attractive to stand here talking to this clown. Come with me and I'll find you someone better."

James's friends are useless.

And drunk. Useless and drunk—or sort of drunk, in Saffy's case. Remus is certainly already pissed, but Remus is on meds so often that he drinks but once in a blue moon. One cocktail is usually enough to set him off, and he's been hard at the gin since he turned up with Peter at six.

"I don't know anyone with those initials," Saffy declares, once she has read, examined and even sniffed the birthday card for clues. "Except for Lisa Edelstein."

"Who's Lisa Edelstein?"

"Cuddy from House," says Remus, lowering the negroni from which he has been drinking deeply.

James pulls a face. "What the fuck is a Cuddy?"

"Oh, actually, it could mean le?" Remus suggests.

"Yes!" Saffy points at him like he might be onto something. "Like the French word for the?"

"Exactly, like—"

"It doesn't mean that!" James interrupts, unwilling to allow such profanity in his home. "That doesn't make sense, why would somebody sign their name as the?"

"Now you're asking me to explain how French people think?" says Saffy derisively, adjusting her bra strap beneath that burnt orange waistcoat she loves, the one that makes her look like she's directing a pornographic movie in the 70s when she pairs it with her tortoiseshell-framed aviators. It clashes wildly with her electric blue buzz-cut. "Am nooooo drunk enough for that."

"They could be one of those one word moniker pop stars, I suppose," Remus pipes up, smiling slyly. "You know, like Madonna?"

They think James doesn't realise that they're taking the piss out of him, but neither of them are sober enough to attempt their gambit with any kind of subtlety or grace.

"You know that's actually her real Christian name?" says Saffy.

Remus turns towards her with interest. "What, Madonna?"

"Yeah!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Saffy repeats. "I thought it couldn't possibly be her real name because, I mean, Madonna, yeah? But then I looked it up and apparently that's the name her mummy gave her, just goes to show—"

"I'm sorry," James interrupts, "but is Madonna relevant to this conversation?"

"Yes, always," says Saffy.

"She's an international pop megastar," Remus seconds.

James stares at his friend incredulously. "Drinking really chips away at your wit, y'know?"

"Does it?" Remus grins lazily and jiggles his cocktail in the air. "Oh, well, I'm negronly joking."

Saffy does a spit-take without the spit and clings helplessly to Remus's shoulder as she laughs, knees buckling, bangles tinkling, but James fights his own urge to start snickering.

"It's not that funny," he lies, and Remus eyes him with an alarmingly teacher-like shrewdness, despite the tellingly intoxicated flush that has crept into his thin, freckled face.

James's love of puns is tragically well known.

"You didn't get it." Remus points at his drink. His speech is starting to slur. "This is a negroni, what I said was—"

"Yeah, I got that part, I just—"

"Jesus fuck, look at her!" Saffy suddenly hisses, staggering sideways into Remus and sending him into the wall in a flurry of giggles—Remus giggling?—her voice hushed and urgent. "Who the hell is that?!"

James does look, following the direction of Saffy's gaze. Sirius has just entered the living room, casually clutching the elbow of a……

……goddess.

An actual. Like. Goddess.

A goddess. In James's house. In his living room. In the place where he eats his chocolate boulder cereal and rewatches Scrubs (even season 9, which is hilarious, and very unfairly disparaged by Joe Public) on Saturday mornings.

She's a goddess. A real one, and cleverly disguised as a mortal, sure, with her slouchy white t-shirt and her big hoop earrings and her light blue jeans that are torn at the knees, wearing her shoulder-length red hair half up, half down and slightly messy, but that doesn't hide what she is.

"Oh my god," he murmurs. His heart is pounding all of a sudden, which is so...utterly bloody stupid, but Saffy's right, bloody look at her, Jesus fuck.

"Surely she can't be with Sirius?" Saffy murmurs back.

"No, she—" He watches Sirius lean down to mutter something in the redhead's ear. A ghost of a laugh flits across her beautiful face. "She's not his—he isn't—"

"D'you think—"

"No, I—"

"Good," says Saffy firmly. She lets go of Remus and rises, lengthening her spine. It is a battle stance of some sort, presumably. "Because I saw her first."

"No!" James cries, wounded, and the redhead shoots him a curious look with a pair of eyes that are startlingly emerald green, even from all the bloody way over here. He spins to face Saffy and lowers his voice, face burning. "It's my house!"

"What are you arguing here, ownership rights?"

"No but it—it's my birthday!" James retorts, jabbing at his own chest. "And, actually, and—"

"It's in the bloody post!"

"—you didn't get me a present!" he finishes in triumph, not that he knows what he's arguing for, because the likelihood is that his tongue will glue itself to the roof of his mouth if he even dares to look in her direction one more time. "Plus I set you up with Vanya Petrich, with whom, as I recall, you enjoyed four years—"

"Stop throwing that in my face!"

"—four blissful years—"

"Is it my fault that you've never fancied any girl I've set you up with?!"

"—promised me an Easter ham for setting you up with her and I never got it—"

"So now you'll trade a woman for a ham?" Saffy accuses, though her face is too lit up, her brown eyes too crinkled at the corners—she's having fun with this and she isn't going to fool him and she knows it. "That's so low, even—"

"Don't start with that," James scathingly cuts in. "You offered me Sean Connery's autograph for Bonnie Grogan's number—"

"Which you never gave me!"

"Because you forged the bloody signature!"

"And now she's bloody married!"

"Yeah, well, Isabella wouldn't give me a counterfeit present, would she?" he retorts, and Saffy lets her shoulders drop, smirking. "This is pointless, Saf, we can't—"

"She's just left with Sirius," Remus informs them, and burps.

#Jily #Part 1 #Of 3?#Honestly I just wanted to give you guys a treat

156 notes · View notes

onceupon · 3 years

Text

London Boy - Part 2: Let the Game begin

summary: You had always thought you knew exactly what kind of boys Rafe Cameron and Topper Thornton were - but did you actually?

pairing: Rafe x reader (slowburn)

warnings: swearing

word count: 2.5k

a/n: no one is asking for this but here it is anyways lmao enjoy (not canon Rafe)

You make it back to your room and take a deep breath. Boys. You were living with boys. Not just any boys - Rafe Cameron and Topper Thornton. Whatever, you thought, shaking yourself back to reality. It didn’t matter anyways. You weren’t about to let them get in the way of having the time of your life these next few months and you definitely weren’t going to let them keep your mind tied to OBX. That was a tie you desperately wanted to cut. Besides, if you knew Rafe and Topper like you thought you did, they’d be too caught up with playing both the field and the girls of Westheath before you knew it, effectively keeping them occupied and out of your way.

You decided to go about your day as you usually would. Your Have a Great Day playlist was queued up and playing as you slipped on your favorite jeans and top. You let yourself get absentmindedly lost in your actions as you did your hair and makeup - enough to make you feel put together and regain some control after the way this morning had left you feeling vulnerable. Looking good made you feel good - and if anyone else thought you looked good too, then hey, that was just an added bonus.

You hadn’t noticed how lost in the process of getting ready you had gotten until you looked down at your phone and saw that an hour had flown by. You were half way down the hall to the kitchen when the door of your flat flew open, bringing you face to face with two new people for the second time that day.

“Oh my gosh hiiii!” a girl turned to you, pausing her laughter from the conversation she was having with the girl next to her. “I’m Olivia! It’s so nice to meet you!!” the bubbly girl exclaimed, immediately embracing you in a hug. The other girl laughed at her friend’s excitement and forwardness which had clearly startled you.

“I’m Millie - you must be one of our flatmates,” the other girl smiled, introducing herself to you as well.

“Hi, I’m Y/n,” you smiled softly.

“Oh my gosh Mills! I knew it! I told you we’d get roomed with the Americans! Ugh this is so exciting, there’s so much I need to know I don’t even know where to start!” Olivia squealed with a little hop.

“Alright don’t scare the poor girl, she’s gonna think they’ve stuck her with a couple of psychos,” laughed Millie, pulling her friend’s arm to lead her down the hall. “Come on Liv let’s let y/n breathe for a second while we go put our bags down,” she said, giving you an apologetic smile.

You laughed and continued on to the kitchen to get some water as you had originally set out to do. You were honestly relieved. Thank god your other two roommates were girls who weren’t remotely associated with OBX. You didn’t even mind their intensity, it was endearing really, and you’d take a couple of loud but genuine girls who seemed like they were a bunch of fun to hang out with over the bitchiness and cattiness you were used to with the girls back home at Kildare.

“Alright Y/n, I forgot sheets and Mills didn’t bring a towel so we’re going to Primark and you’re coming with. I want to hear all the American gossip,” Olivia reappeared and then slipped back down the hallway with a wink. You laughed and went to go grab your bag, just then realizing Rafe and Topper were no longer at the flat. You wondered where they had gone, not hearing them slip out over the music you were playing earlier. Not that you cared, it was a relief to have them out of sight and out of mind for now.

—

“Hmm Rafe Cameron and Topper Thornton, does sound rather posh,” mused Millie as you had begun providing some intel to your friends on the two flatmates they had yet to meet.

“Two American ladies men, sign me up!” cackled Olivia.

“Hey watch yourself missy, you’re taken,” Millie scolded.

You had only known these girls for maybe an hour and somehow you had been comfortable enough with them to open up about your entire life’s backstory as you walked with them through the home section of Primark. It felt like they had been your friends for years, the three of you gelling together effortlessly.

“Oo you have a boyfriend?” you asked as your eyes scanned over the shelf of fluffy blankets in front of you. You simply couldn’t leave without the light grey one, daydreaming about how cozy napping with it would be.

“I do. His name is Jake,” Olivia beamed, “he’s kind of an idiot, but I love him.”

“And he’s got a whole squad of idiot friends too, but you’ll see for yourself,” Millie laughed.

“Oh shit that reminds me! I invited them all over to pregame tonight before freshers,” chimed Olivia.

“What’s freshers?” you asked, raising your brows in confusion.

Millie and Olivia shared a quick laugh at how clueless you were to everything in their world.

“So freshers is like this huge club event at the beginning of the school year. It’s really meant for uni freshers but since half of us are 18 and we can easily sneak in the other half it’s kind of tradition for Westheath kids to go their last year. Me and Mills went last year too though, one of the guys we knew the year above us was cousins with the bouncer,” Olivia grinned proudly. “But literally everyone is going and that means you’re coming too and- oh shit I’m such a bloody idiot aren’t I! I’m sorry Y/n I literally didn’t think at all to ask anyone from our flat if it was okay to host a pregame,” she bit her thumb with guilt-ridden eyes.

“Looks like you and your idiot boyfriend are actually a match made in heaven,” joked Millie as Olivia gave her the finger, trying to suppress the smile tugging at her lips.

“Oh no that’s totally fine! I’ve had like barely any human interaction these last few days and it’ll be nice to meet some more people from Westheath. It’ll be fun,” you reassured Olivia with a genuine smile. “I just uh- I’ve never been clubbing. Like what do I even wear, I don’t think I brought anything like that. And I’m not 18 for another month, would I even get in?”

“Well it’s a good thing we’re here isn’t it!” exclaimed Olivia, grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you to the clothes section. “Mills this would be PERFECT don’t you think,” she said as she held up a sheer black top in front of you.

“Oh my gosh yes. With a black bra underneath and mini skirt,” Millie grinned, nodding in excitement with Olivia.

“Guys I don’t know if I can wear this. Like I don’t think I can pull this off,” you said meekly.

“Oh my god shut up this would look so good on you. Your body is killer and you can 1000% pull this off,” Olivia insisted, shoving the garment toward you. “And we’ll get you in the club no problem,” she added firmly, shutting down any possibility of you talking your way out of tonight.

“Wait shit do you think Rafe and Topper will be cool with the pregame? We haven’t even properly met them yet and I’ve already invited a bunch of strangers to our place,” groaned Olivia as the three of you headed toward the register.

“Trust me, if there’s two things those boys definitely don’t mind it’s a party and a reason to drink,” you laughed.

—-

As the three of you unlocked the door to your flat you could hear Rafe and Topper’s voices from the kitchen. Ugh, back already.

“Hellooo boys,” called Olivia with zero hesitation, walking straight into the kitchen. “Name’s Olivia, pleasure to meet you,” she smiled extending her hand.

“Pleasure is all ours,” Rafe smiled back. It took every ounce of your will power not to roll your eyes at his smugness.

“Indeed it is,” grinned Topper giving her a hand shake. “And you are,” Topper immediately drew his attention to Millie entering the kitchen right behind Olivia. You didn’t miss how his eyes ran her up and down.

“Millie, your fifth and final roommate,” she smirked, not having missed his wandering eyes either.

“So listen boys,” Olivia clapped her hands together, drawing everyone’s attention. “I may have invited my boyfriend and some of our friends over to pregame tonight before we all go out to the club. You guys are obviously welcome to join but if you’re not cool with us having people over just say the word and-“

“Done deal. What time should we be ready?” Topper cut her off

“9. See you then,” she grinned from ear to ear sauntering off to her room.

“Alright I need to go unpack, but it was lovely to meet you boys, see you soon,” Millie smiled, eyes locking with Topper’s for a second too long before she too slipped away. You wanted nothing more than to escape to your room as well but you were starving, and since you were now living with Rafe and Topper you’d have to learn to go about your life around your new home despite their presence. You sighed as you made your way to the fridge, trying to decide what you were gonna scrap together for dinner.

“So how long have you been here already?” asked Rafe, grabbing some Pringles and taking a seat at the table, Topper already spreading out comfortably on the couch.

“Uh, few days,” you replied, not bothering to turn around.

“See anything cool yet,” Topper chimed in as he scrolled on his phone. The way they were asking you questions was oddly normal. You were trying hard to detect any hint of cockiness in their voice but you couldn’t find any. You weren’t ready to let your guard down fully, not entirely trusting the pair, but you decided to soften a bit and give them a chance.

“Yeah actually, I walked around Hyde Park the other day and the day before I watched the sunset from Millennium Bridge. It was beautiful,” you replied, finally turning toward the boys, a jar of pasta sauce in hand.

“Crazy being in a city like this huh. Definitely not the Outer Banks,” Rafe chuckled lightly, gaze settling on the window.

“Definitely not the Outer Banks,” you smiled.

—-

“What do you mean you haven’t watched Friends!?” you let out an exasperated cry as you twirled more spaghetti on your fork.

“It’s stupid,” said Topper, making a face.

“It’s a classic,” you retorted.

“No. The Office though. Now that’s a classic.”

“Should’ve know you were an Office guy,” you shook your head, Rafe laughing from his seat across from you.

“Listen, I can’t help you if you don’t know how to appreciate true comedy,” Topper shrugged.

“Yeah okay,” you rolled your eyes, turning now to face the dirty blonde seated across from you, absent mindedly shuffling a deck of cards for no reason, the golden ring on his finer catching your eye as his hands moved in a repetitive motion. “And what about you Mr. Dealer,” you asked Rafe, eyes motioning to the cards in his hand before going back up to meet his gaze. Rafe knew how to keep good eye contact with a person, confident yet not overpowering, and as the evening progressed and you become more comfortable you welcomed the challenge of his piercing blue eyes.

“I’m more of a How I Met Your Mother guy,” he answered nonchalantly.

“Huh, I wouldn’t’ve pegged you as that.”

“And what would you have pegged me as, Y/n,” he asked, still holding your gaze to which you just shrugged playfully, letting him wonder.

“Okay, forget about comedies. Game of Thrones. Hands down best thing I’ve ever watched,” Topper stated, throwing his palms down on the table.

“I mean I do hear good things, but I don’t know, seems kind of intense,” you said before shoving another forkful of spaghetti in your mouth.

“No no no Y/n you literally don’t know what you’re missing out on, it’s pure genius,” Topper continued passionately.

Rafe gave you a knowing glance as you two made eye contact again, trying not to laugh, “He’s been on my ass for years to watch it.”

“And now you have no excuse! It’s senior man, classes will be light work, just give it a chance,” Topper pleaded.

“You know what Topper, just because you’re practically jumping out of your seat right now, I’ll check it out just for you,” you laughed as Toppers face pulled into a wide grin.

“Good enough for me,” he said victoriously.

“Lemme one up that Topps, I’ll also give it a chance, so it better be worth it,” Rafe added, Topper’s eyes growing wide in simultaneous glee and disbelief. Topper quickly got up from his seat, puffing his chest, “woooo! Winter is coming to London baby!” he exclaimed, pumping his fist before heading down the hall to his room.

Two hours had passed by with you hanging out in the kitchen with Rafe and Topper, and to your surprise… you were actually enjoying yourself. You guys had talked about the things you wanted to do in London, the music you all listened to, favorite movies, and tv shows of course. You almost didn’t know how to process it. How could two guys who seemed like such kook douchebags actually be - cool? You had always regarded the two at face value, but perhaps there was more to these boys than what meets the eye.

“Oh god how is it already 8, I’m so behind,” you groaned, getting up to wash your dishes.

“Once Topper is full speed ahead, there’s no stopping that man,” Rafe laughed.

“Hey,” you turned your head around from the sink, soapy dish in hand. “I was actually serious about giving Game of Thrones a try. Damn Topper if he didn’t make me curious now,” you laughed, “but I was thinking, if you’re actually gonna watch too, that we should time it so we both watch on the same days. Because then if we’re on the same schedule, whenever we see each other in the kitchen or something we can discuss and we’ll be on the same episodes so no spoilers.”

“So you mean we’d both watch on our own but at the same time?” Rafe asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, as if it was obvious. That’s what you literally just described.

“Well if we’re gonna watch it at the same time, we might as well just watch it together Y/n,” he calmly stated, walking right up next to you to put his Pringles away.

“Uh yeah I mean that works too,” you replied, looking up at the boy now next to you, getting slightly flustered by his presence once again. His blue eyes were piercing right through you, and this time it was a losing a battle.

“Cool,” he smiled, turning around and walking out of the kitchen to his room. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in, the water still running in front of you as you stood their holding the sponge like an idiot. What the fuck just happened?

---

Part 3

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron imagine #obx #rafe obx

98 notes · View notes

whatifxwereyou · 3 years

Text

The Oncoming Storm Part 7: Symptom

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

Three days in a row on accident because I have 0 self control. Someone on ao3 suggested a hot spring scene but it didn't fit the narrative- SO I have also written two "interludes" in the springs. I will post those both this weekend for funsies. No idea where they fit in the story but they're fun so who cares? Haha.

Part 6 Interlude One: Electricity in the Springs (Kung Lao x Reader) Interlude Two: Steam (Liu Kang x Reader) Part 8 Chapter Index

Together you walked through the temple, Kung Lao leading you down several flights of stairs, further into the mountainside. He chatted with you casually about several of the halls that you passed; what was down them and places he had explored with Liu Kang when they had been strictly forbidden to do so. You were grateful for the white noise of conversation. It was even nostalgic. He’d talk like this when he’d come to visit you at your Grandma’s. He’d talk and talk about anything and everything, even if you never said a word.

“Y/N?” He slowed his walk. You turned toward him and stopped walking just in front of where he’d now stopped. “Can I ask you something? And will you be honest with me?”

“Depends on the question, Kung Lao.”

“Are you sweet on Liu Kang?”

Completely floored by the boldness of his accusation, you stuttered and then laughed uncomfortably. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just curious. You lit up when he joined us in the pit.” He seemed barely able to say the words without gagging though there was a playful smile on his lips still.

“I don’t remember you being such a gossip.”

“You’re avoiding answering the question, Y/N.”

With a roll of your eyes, you shoved his shoulder. “I’m not dignifying that with an answer.” You were flustered to say the very least. Kung Lao was so damn forward, a far cry from how any of the time you’d spent with Liu Kang had been. He’d just outright asked! Of course you were sweet on Liu Kang, of course you were.

“Oh? Well, then what about me?” He tapped his chest with a childlike grin. “Were you ever sweet on me? Are you still?”

“You know, I am seriously considering throwing ink at you again.” You batted your eyelashes and spoke in a teasing sort of way. The questions were intrusive but he said them in such a way that it was actually comical. It was funny, honestly, to think that you’d fallen right back into a rapport that you’d had with Kung Lao when you were kids. He stepped in front of you to stop you from continuing forward. Then he pointed to your left. You followed him down the hall and then he leaned against the wall near an opening that led down yet another hall. He tapped the sign to his left that read ‘women only’.

“I can’t go past here without getting in trouble.” He held his arm out to stop you as you made to walk past him to further avoid awkward conversation. He didn’t need to say anything. The look he gave you was enough to know that he wanted an answer.

“I’m not thinking about that right now, Kung Lao. I’ve got ink in places that I don’t want to discuss with you.” You pouted and knocked his arm aside. He pulled it back. “What’s going on with you? You just got back and we’ve barely spoken since, you know, you died.” You emphasized the word more dramatically than necessary. The humidity beyond the hall in front of you was already filling the hall and you craved the comfort of clean, hot water. “These are silly questions, anyway.” Your nerves were very much shining through. You weren’t ready to admit anything to anyone. The last thing you wanted was Kung Lao meddling.

“I brought you something, that’s all.”

“I feel like this something comes with terms and conditions with the way that you’re talking.”

“Not at all. But if you’re sweet on Liu Kang then it might make things weird.”

“Do whatever you want, Kung Lao, just do it quickly. The ink is starting to crust and this conversation has made me so uncomfortable.”

“I didn’t say that I wasn’t going to give it to you no matter what your answer had been. I was just trying to weasel an answer out of you.” He smirked and you rolled your eyes.

“Some things never change.” Despite your obvious frustration, you couldn’t help but smile. Kung Lao had been a huge comfort to you when things had been at their most difficult in your youth. It was as though he’d never left. The lack of distance you felt between you was strange and you struggled to wrap your mind around it. You had to remind yourself that you hadn’t seen him in almost twenty years. “You’re such a pest, Kung Lao.”

You walked through the doorway but Kung Lao grasped your wrist and twisted you back to face him. You made a sound of surprise and stumbled into him. He caught you with a laugh.

“You’re clumsier than I expected after how you fought earlier.”

“Kung Lao, I swear.”

He reached between the folds of his shirt and withdrew a small purple flower. Your stomach dropped and you stared with your mouth hanging open, having been forming an empty threat. The flower. It was the exact same kind of flower that he’d given you the last time that you’d seen him when you’d been kids. Your heart had practically stopped in your chest.

“I made a detour on the way back. You’re right. They don’t grow in town anymore. Had to look around a bit before I found one.”

“Kung Lao…” Chills raced down your spine and you swallowed the sudden lump in your throat before reaching to grasp the flower. Kung Lao pulled it out of your reach.

“I thought that instead of teasing you like I used to as a dumb kid that I would be better off making a kind gesture.” Much to your surprise, he took your hand and placed the precious flower in your palm.

“I… uh…” You stuttered, feeling just about as clueless as you sounded.

“Enjoy the springs, Y/N. You can have your privacy for now but next time we’re joining you.” He patted your shoulder then tipped his hat and turned, walking away with a skip in his step down the hall.

You watched him go and sighed, resting your back against the stone wall while staring at the flower that he’d left you with. It was a precious little thing, with soft rows of petals that seemed frail but held on stronger than they looked. There was a small speck of pollen at its center and the stem was just long enough that you could wrap your fist around it. You’d gone looking for those flowers once in hopes of keeping them in the garden behind the dojo. There hadn’t been any and when you’d asked about them, no one knew where you could find one. It had been so long since you’d seen one living that you’d forgotten how resilient and perfect they were.

It seemed a small thing but it was also a huge gesture. He hadn’t said what the gesture meant but he had implied it well enough. You were surprised by how touched you were by the flower. If he’d caught you out there staring at the flower, then you would have never heard the end of it. He’d likely have teased you for being sweet on him.

You turned and entered the hall just to your left. There was a changing room with rudimentary waterflow systems so that you could clean off before going into the actual springs. You had never been so grateful for running water in your life. Ink pooled at your feet as you showered off, scrubbing as much of the ink away as you could. As you did, you felt your side sting painfully. Then blood flowed freely with the spray of water. You held your hand over the wound on your side and winced. You’d forgotten that Kung Lao had gotten you with the hat. You’d been so full of adrenaline and excitement that it had slipped your mind.

Now that you’d felt it, it was difficult to forget. Besides that, it was bleeding fairly freely for something that had happened some time ago now and should have scabbed over. It was probably a bad decision but you were going to enjoy the springs anyway. You found a first aid kit and covered the wound with gauze, then the gauze entirely with tape to protect it from the water. Then you took one of the towels there and wrapped it around yourself.

The cave beyond was smooth and the steam filled the room from floor to ceiling. These springs were huge. The cave formation seemed fairly natural, settling in shallow areas with deeper pools spread throughout. From where you stood, you couldn’t see the end of it but you didn’t feel the need to go far. In the distance, you could see several other monks enjoying the springs but they were far enough away that you wouldn’t be bothered by them.

You were suddenly disappointed that Kung Lao and Liu Kang hadn’t joined you. It was likely that they were too busy anyway. Your face went red at the mental image of what could have been and you sunk into the water and swooned. It was probably for the best that you’d come alone. Next time though, all bets were off. You rested the flower next to you on the stone beside where you rested your head.

It was difficult not to fall asleep with the warmth of the springs and the sound of rushing water in the room behind. Now that you were drifting in and out, you were grateful for some alone time. Often the air around Liu Kang was so stifled with whatever tension you’d cooked up that day that you couldn’t talk or think straight. And you had no idea what was happening with Kung Lao. You had to talk eventually and catch up but for now, those were all problems for you to deal with later. Future Y/N’s problems. Right now nothing mattered except for you, the steam, and the comfort of the springs.

Finally, you got up and as you did, the room spun. How long had you been lying there? Time was difficult to judge in the dimly lit cavern with scant an opening to the outside world. You lifted yourself from the springs, cautious of the flower you’d set aside, and sat on the edge. Then you whined since your towel and the water surrounding you was stained pink. Apparently two layers of gauze and a roll of tape wasn’t enough to keep the wound closed.

How embarrassing. Light-headed with blood loss because you’d been careless.

You picked up the flower and returned to the changing room. There were no extra clothes so you had to choose towel or filthy gi and you trusted the gi more than the towel. It was as crusted as you had joked it had been earlier. Before tying the top closed, you checked the wound and inhaled sharply at the sight of it. It bled freely and was red and ugly looking. Panic swelled in your chest.

When you’d been a kid your wounds had bled more freely than they should have. Even a scraped knee had been a problem. Doctors had put you on medicine to help you clot but it hadn’t helped. There was no way it was happening again. You’d outgrown it.

No, you were being silly. It had been the water and bad timing. You wrapped the wound tightly again but the damage had been done and your fingers tingled as a reminder. You’d been a fool not to go to the infirmary before going to the springs. Between the poison having made your blood such a mess and your recovery from those wounds, it was a wonder that you hadn’t accidentally bled to death while napping in the springs!

Carefully, you tied the gi closed and then tucked the flower inside of it safely. When you’d been led there by Kung Lao earlier, you’d made a point to remember where you’d come from so that you could return without getting lost. You’d spent more time lost in Raiden’s Temple than you had ever spent lost in your life.

You felt Liu’s energy before you saw him turning a corner and walking toward you. He smiled in greeting but it quickly fell into a look of concern. “Are you okay?”

You sure were tired of that question. Then again, you didn’t feel well thanks to your lack of foresight.

“Huh?”

“You’re incredibly pale.”

“Oh yeah. It’s dumb, really.” You pulled on the tear in the side of your gi and Liu’s worry only worsened.

“You said you were fine earlier.”

“Adrenaline is a funny thing, Liu. I forgot about it until I was cleaning up.”

“Kung Lao didn’t help you take care of it before letting you go?”

“I’m almost certain that he alsoforgot about it.”

“Careless.” Liu Kang didn’t sound surprised. “Come sit with me. We’ll take care of it.”

You looked him over, pulled the sliced gi a little and then looked back to Liu knowingly. What, were you just supposed to take your shirt off so that he could take a look at your wound? He laughed and held both his hands up defensively as if realizing what he was asking you to do. You caught the slightest bit of red on his cheeks. It was nice to know that it wasn’t in your head.

“If you aren’t comfortable doing that then come with me to the infirmary.”

“Ugh.” You were so tired of the infirmary! But you were feeling the impact of blood loss at an alarming rate. Your fingers were frigid and your breath was shallower than it should have been. You leaned against the wall nearby with a heavy sigh.

“Please?”

“I can probably sleep it off, Liu.”

“You’re like a ghost, Y/N.” He tried to joke but the worry in his eyes wasn’t going away. You were such a sucker for those eyes that you melted almost immediately.

“Fine. But I’m not happy about it.” You pouted and he laughed, offering you his arm.

“Thank you for humoring me, Y/N.”

Together you walked through the maze of corridors. Liu filled you in on what he and Kung Lao had done after you’d left. It hadn’t been anything remarkable, mostly tasks they were given to contribute to the life they lived in Raiden’s Temple. When you reached the infirmary, you were taken away by one of the female monks that you’d gotten acquainted with during your time there. They offered you a change of clothing and you couldn’t have been more grateful. A tank top and some comfortable loose pants. Familiar clothing, at long last. It was far easier to maneuver those around with the wound on your side.

Afterward you returned to the main room and sat on one of the benches there. The monk crouched next to you and you lifted up your shirt to show them the wound. It definitely looked uglier than it had earlier but it had also gone completely numb. Why couldn’t it look like the minor convenience you’d viewed it as earlier? Now it was swollen and the flesh was torn and jagged. Liu’s expression shifted and he turned away from you to hide it.

“It’s good you came to us. Don’t want to get an infection.” The monk offered you a smile then set about working on the wound. It was no longer numb and you twitched but stifled any painful objection you may have had. Liu stood behind the bench and offered you a hand to squeeze which you took.

“I’m fine.” You reassured him but your brain was buzzing. Did he think you were weak? Frail? Easily broken? You were strong! You had worked so hard to be strong. It was just a bad situation, overall. Kung Lao had immediately regretted throwing the hat at you. Accidents happened. You were getting it taken care of and you would be the better for it.

“Stay with us for a few hours to make sure you are alright.” The monk said and while it seemed like a question, it didn’t really seem optional. You exchanged a glance with Liu who you knew would argue with you to get you to stay. You had no leg to stand on except that you wanted to go back to your room.

“Fine.” The monk bowed to you gratefully and walked away. Liu had you scoot over and then took the seat next to you.

“I told you that hat was trouble.”

“You did. And I know staying is the right thing to do. I’m not happy about it though. I want to be strong again, Liu. It’s one setback after another.” He picked up your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“You’ll get there. Be patient with yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah, monk stuff, inner peace and all that.” He laughed at you. “So much for celebrating.”

“There will be plenty of time to celebrate later. This is more important. Tomorrow is another day.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’ll stay until you find rest.”

“I’m not sleeping here tonight, Liu. I’m going back to my room the moment they say I can.”

“Sure, Y/N.” He seemed unconvinced and you pouted. Afterward you made casual conversation about your arcana, things that Liu wished to test, and what they thought your capabilities might be. Liu seemed to think you’d be excellent at mimicry. What was ink used for if not to record things? Before you knew it, you had fallen asleep against his shoulder.

***

Liu Kang waited until you fell asleep then watched you for some time afterward. Just to make sure you were alright. Then he crept away from where you rested and consulted with the monks, ignoring their snide remarks about the attention he paid you. It wasn’t their place to judge what he did with his time.

He finished his errands for the evening and as he returned to his quarters, he found Kung Lao in the fight pit, tossing his hat about and practicing. Liu stepped into the fight pit and when the hat turned toward him, he knocked it back with a definitive kick where it slammed against the sand. Kung Lao willed the hat back to him, caught it, and slipped it back on his head, strip neatly tucked under his chin.

“Want to spar? I don’t think I can sleep.”

“No, I’m good.” Liu folded his arms over his chest. “You were careless today, Kung Lao. Y/N nearly bled to death because of it.”

“What? Is she okay?” Kung Lao took an aggressive step toward the stairs but Liu held his arm out to block him, stepping back with him. Liu then explained where he’d found you in the hall and what they’d had to do in the infirmary where you were now resting. “…so she’s fine, is what you’re saying.”

“That’s not the point, Lao.”

“I’m sorry, Liu. I forgot. She handled it like a champ and kept on fighting. I was extra careful but it slipped! We were having so much fun that we may have gotten carried away. We used to pretend when we were kids…”

“I’m not here to scold you. I only wanted to let you know and to remind you to be mindful. Not all the warriors with the marking will be the two of us. Some might not have any experience at all. We’re lucky that Y/N does.”

“What is this, Liu?” Kung Lao’s tone shifted and his lips curled into a knowing smile.

“The consequences of your actions.” Liu turned to leave the arena.

“You know, I asked you to make sure that she was okay and keep her safe not to fall for her.” Kung Lao called after him. It wasn’t an accusation. He didn’t sound angry. He’d always had a way of stirring the pot.

“And keeping her safe is what I’ve done. Then you come back and undo half of the progress she’d made because you wanted to show off.” Liu turned again to face him. There was nothing that would undo their bond of brotherhood but Kung Lao had always been his careless counterpart. In the Academy he’d skipped classes, ignored studies, and had dragged Liu into all sorts of trouble. While Liu had been more studious, he’d gotten them into plenty of trouble over the years too.

“I’m sorry. Really, Liu. I’ll be more careful.” Kung Lao slipped his hat under his arm. “You’d tell me though, right?” Liu threw him a disapproving glare. “When I left back then one of my biggest regrets was not telling her the truth. I never thought I’d see her again so with time I wasn’t sure it mattered. Now I have a chance to be better than I was then. So, I’m going to ask you again. What is this, Liu? You’d tell me, right?”

Liu stepped back. They’d wrestled over far less and he was in no mood. He didn’t know what to say either. He didn’t want to lie to Kung Lao but he wasn’t sure what it was other than a few close calls and some pretty clear attraction.

“That was more than enough of an answer.” Kung Lao dusted off his still ink stained shirt. “Well, may the best man win.”

“This isn’t a contest, Kung Lao. We’re brothers. Always and no matter what.”

“Of course. And I’m going to win.” Kung Lao walked past him and hopped up the steps two at a time, waving him off with a laugh. Liu Kang sighed deeply and looked up at the starry night sky. That could have gone better but he supposed it also could have gone worse.

#liu kang x reader #kung lao x reader #mortal kombat 2021 #mortal kombat movie #liu kang/reader #kung lao/reader #kung lao x you #liu kang x you #fanfiction #fanfic #romance #angst #slow burn #mk kung lao #mk liu kang #arcana #ludi lin #max huang

108 notes · View notes

biggest-stupidhead · 3 years

Text

Bad Timing (Levi x Reader) Part 8

Summary: how do you tell your friends that you’re falling for your big brothers’ best friend?

Word Count: 4.8K

You woke up late the next morning, having forgotten to plug in your phone which also functioned as your alarm. Instead Hange had busted into your room and ripped the blankets off of you, exposing you to the chilly air. You yelped and reached blindly for the covers, your mind too foggy with sleep to comprehend how late you were.

"Rise and shine sleeping beauty." Hange sang as she jostled your shoulder.

"Wha..."

"School starts in like thirty minutes come on bust a move." That woke you up. You tossed your legs over the edge and stumbled around your room, pulling on a pair of joggers and a large t shirt. Hange had left once she was sure that you were awake, leaving you alone to get ready. You didn't bother with make up, not that you ever really did. You double checked that you had all of your supplies for school before zipping up your bag and meandered down the steps. Erwin and Hange were already pulling on their shoes by the door, Erwin was wrapping one of his scarves around Hange's neck. You scrunched your nose in disgust at their outright display of affection and shoved your feet into a pair of old sneakers.

The three of you exited the house, and made a beeline for Erwin's minivan which had been heating up to melt off the frost and snow. The drive was slow and cold, the van was dated so no matter how early Erwin woke up to heat up the car for you, it would always be colder than the Arctic. Erwin also drove like a god damn grandpa in the winter due to the icy roads which didn't help. Finally you made it to school with only five minutes before the bell rang, you bolted into the building, you were in such a hurry that you didn't bother to stomp the snow off your feet as you entered. Which was a mistake because in your hast you lost your footing on the already slick floor, you yelped as you fell flat on your ass. You blinked as you tried to comprehend what had just happened, you were brought back to the present by the sound of boisterous laughter. You turned to glare at Connie and Sasha who where standing to the left munching on a bag of hot cheetos.

"You should've seen the look on your face!" Connie howled as he slapped his thigh. Sasha giggled and nodded as she wiped cheeto dust on Connie's white shirt while he wasn't watching. You rolled your eyes as you picked yourself up off the floor, you ignored them and pushed forward down the hall. Sasha and Connie trailed after you since they had the same first class as you, making jokes as they went.

"You know they really should put out those yellow signs, you know the ones with the person falling?" Sasha joked loudly.

"Yeah I know what you mean, then we could print out a picture of (Y/n)'s face and then stick it on the sign." Connie quipped which lead to the two of them dissolving into another fit of laughter. You ducked into the class room as the minute bell rang weaving through the desks to get to your seat. Armin watched you with wide eyes as you pulled your things out for chem, after your desk was covered in notebooks and pens you topped it off with your phone, which was still dead. The bell rang and then Sasha and Connie staggered in, your teacher shook her head and marked them tardy once again.

"Did you get my text last night?" Armin asked, eyeing your phone on your desk.

"Aw no Armin I'm sorry, I didn't charge it last night so it's dead." you apologized as you attempted to organize your cluttered desk. Armin smiled sweetly and nodded,

"It's all good! I was just wondering what your schedule for this week was and if you wanted to study together again?" Armin explained as he pushed his pencil across his desktop.

"I'd love to study, Geometry is kicking my ass right now." you moaned, the thought of your math class made your stomach heavy with dread.

"I can help you with that if you can help me with poem for English." Armin said softly, his blue eyes sparkling with a playful glint. You rolled your eyes you knew that Armin wouldn't need your help with any of his classes, he was just trying to make you feel smarter.

"Whatever you want baby doll." Armin's face flushed at the pet name that you used for him, you had recently started calling him the nickname due to his doll like features. He averted his gaze to the board where the teacher had written a warm up question on the board to get class started. Instead of working on the problem like a good student, you decided to use the first five minutes of class time to revive your dead phone. You plugged your charger into your laptop and then plugged your phone into the charger, once you saw the tiny lightning bolt you turned your attention to the board.

Chemistry went by uncharacteristically fast, the teacher kept the class busy with a lecture as well as a rowdy game of kahoot in preparation for your midterm. You had no time to check your phone, so it wasn't until you were walking through the hallway with Mikasa and Sasha that you noticed that Levi had responded. According to your phone, he had responded only fifteen minutes after you sent the initial message.

"My bathroom schedule is none of your concern."

You smiled at your phone, it may not seem like he was pleased with your text but you knew better. You had come to appreciate Levi's own weird way of showing that he cared, it had been no small feat either. So you decided to interpret his response as "don't worry I'm fine." you shoved your phone back into your pocket and continued to push through the throng of students in the hall. Sasha walked a few paces in front of Mikasa and you, swinging her lunchbox and humming along to whatever song was playing through her ear buds. Mikasa tugged her scarf up over her nose as you passed Eren who waved vaguely in your direction. Your eyes roamed over Mikasa's form, she had recently switched her aesthetic a bit, changing her wardrobe to a more soft goth mixed with grunge.

Today she wore a green plaid skirt with a belt cinched tightly around her thin waist. She had selected a black turtleneck that clung to her curves with a thick silver necklace with a heart pendant. And of course she wore her red scarf around her neck. You had to admit that it suited her, she looked hot as hell. Sasha on the other hand often dressed in a more causal manner. Today the brunette wore a pair of baggy jeans that hung off her hips, only staying in place because of the shoe lace that she had tied around her waist to function as a belt. Despite the cold weather Sasha wore a tiny pink cami with cute little strawberries on it, she also wore a light pink cardigan over the cami, presumably to prevent herself from being dress coded. Seeing how cute your friends had dressed made you feel embarrassed, you frowned down at your sweatpants and your t shirt that had an ugly bleach stain on the front. You'd do better tomorrow, you thought to yourself as you and Mikasa followed Sasha to your next class, which was World History.

The three of you arrived just in time, not that it mattered anyway. The history teachers always took their time on Mondays, spending a minimum of at least twenty minutes in the hall chatting about sports. You took your seats in the back of the room, surprisingly Connie and Jean were already seated and arguing quietly.

"-I don't know that's a bit sus but hey I won't judge." Connie retorted, crossing his arms and averting his gaze while Jean glared at him.

"What are you guys talking about?" Sasha interrupted as she dropped into her seat next to Connie. Jean's cheeks flushed as he hardened his glare on Connie who waved Sasha off.

"Oh nothing" Connie winked at Jean who eyed the pair suspiciously, knowing that neither one could keep a secret.

"Aw ok then." Sasha looked a bit disappointed as she dropped her huge lunchbox down on the desk.

"Got anything good in there?" Jean sighed, eager to change the subject.

"Duh you dummy." Sasha scoffed as she opened the bag and began pawing through it's contents.

"Let me rephrase that: Got anything to spare? I have practice tonight and I didn't pack any snacks." Jean exasperated as he pointed to the lung box. Sasha paused and pursed her lips in thought while Connie poorly covered his laughter.

"Hmmm what's in it for me?" Sasha hummed thoughtfully as she pulled out a variety of granola bars and fanned them in front of her face tauntingly.

"I'm giving you the chance to be a good friend that should be enough!" Jean fumed with his eyes locked on the bars. You watched the pair go back in forth as they bartered for the snacks until they finally settled that Jean would be the designated driver for the party this weekend. You watched as Jean stuffed a handful of granola bars in his soccer bag and Sasha opened up another bag of hot cheetos. You giggled and turned to gauge Mikasa's reaction, she had a small smile on her full lips as she jotted down some notes.

"Speaking of parties, where is the party this weekend?" You asked as you pulled your own notebook out to take some notes. Connie cocked his head, his thin eyebrows furrowing as he stared at you.

"Your house I thought." Connie remarked as he drummed his pencil against the desk.

"Oh, I wasn't really planning on hosting but..."

"No Connie it's at Marco's remember?" Jean stated as he rolled his eyes.

"My bad." Connie chuckled.

"Well still I don't think I was invited so I wouldn't want to impose." you admitted.

"Nonsense! Marco would love to have you over." Sasha assured you as she once again wiped her hand on Connie's sleeve.

"Yeah Marco wouldn't mind if you tagged along." Connie shrugged, not even noticing that Sasha had left a bright red stain on his sleeve from the cheeto dust. You noticed that Jean looked a bit uncomfortable, the tips of his ears turning a bit pink. Strange, maybe something happened between the two of them.

"I don't know guys, I really wouldn't want to take advantage of the guy, he seems really nice and I wouldn't want him to think badly of me." you sighed, thinking about the sweet freckled barista.

"I'll ask him, don't worry about it!" Connie waved you off before he turned back to his work. You nodded, deciding to throw in the towel with this argument.

____

After history, you went your separate ways with your friends and went to your next class. English was easy enough, your teacher was an older woman who also doubled as the theater director. This meant that she would often assign some busy work at the beginning of the period and turn you loose so she could make preparations for the next production. So once you finished the assignment for today's class you allowed yourself some time on your phone. Levi's message remained unanswered as you ran through all the possible replies. Everything that you thought of didn't seem to fit so you decided to leave it unanswered until you could think of something good.

Levi tapped his foot impatiently as he watched Farlan and Isabel fumbled around the small flat. Farlan was rooting through a bin filled with shoes searching for his loafers. Isabel was standing in front of a small mirror holding up two different pairs of earrings up to her head to see which best matched her outfit. Finally they both found what they were looking for, Farlan slid on his brown loafters and Isabel fastened her hoops to her ears and then they were off. The streets of Paris were dusted in about a foot of snow, which Farlan bitched about due to his poor choice of footwear.

"Can we please call an uber? My toes are going to fall off!" Farlan complained as he shook snow out of his shoes. Isabel giggled and tossed her scarf over her shoulder.

"I like the snow." her green eyes sparkled playfully as she teased the older boy.

"So do I but that doesn't mean I want it between my god damn toes." Farlan hissed as he lifted his other foot to shake out more snow. Levi watched the pair bicker with a certain fondness in his gaze. They had been his first friends and for a time his only family. After his mother died, he was sent to live in an orphanage where he met the odd pair. Even if he was only in the orphanage for two years, he still had come to love the idiots. Thankfully they never lost touch, Farlan had turned 18 in July so he now had custody of Isabel and rented a flat for the both of them. Isabel was still only 16 so technically Farlan was her legal guardian, and so far he seemed to be doing a good job.

"What do you think Levi, should we call an uber?" Isabel asked, bumping her shoulder into Levi's to grab his attention.

"We're already almost there." Levi deadpanned as the three of them meandered down the sidewalk. The city was surprisingly busy for a Monday evening, couples walked with arms linked, families were window shopping, and students sat perched on barstools as they drank coffee while they typed away on laptops. Levi couldn't remember much about Paris, at least not this side of the city. He had grown up in the north-eastern district, which was known to be poorer than the central district or southern district. Farlan had managed to get a job at a law firm as an assistant which had allowed him to move himself and Isabel to the central district. Of course Kenny sent Farlan and Isabel a monthly allowance to keep their heads above water, but it was mostly Farlan who had scrounged the money together to move the pair.

"Then it's settled! We'll walk!" Isabel whooped as she skipped ahead of the two boys. Farlan groaned and shot Levi a disappointed look.

"Don't look at me like that, you're the idiot that wore loafers." Levi scolded.

"I hate how you're always right." Farlan chuckled. The trio walked the rest of the way to the restaurant in relative silence. Thankfully the walk wasn't too long, they sat themselves in a booth. A waiter came and took their orders, Levi was slightly taken aback when Farlan ordered a bottle of wine, but he quickly remembered that the legal drinking age in France was 18. The waiter left them to put in their order, Levi took the moment of peace to check his phone. A hand full of texts from Hange, a meme from Erwin, and.... no response from you.

He frowned as he stared at his own response, looking back at it he wasn't sure how she could respond to that. He mentally kicked himself, for the first time in your odd relationship you showed an interest in him and all he was doing was pushing you away. Levi was so deeply engrossed in his thoughts that he failed to notice that the waiter had already brought them their drinks. Isabel tapped her straw on the table a few times to rip the paper, once the tip of the straw was exposed she lifted the straw to her lips and blew. The paper shot off the straw and hit Levi square in the chin. Farlan snorted and spat his wine back into his glass so he could laugh at Levi's exasperated expression. Isabel howled with laughter, she banged her hand on the table dramatically as Levi frowned at the two of them unimpressed.

"How old are you?" Levi ridiculed as he stooped to pick up the scrap piece of paper. He balled the trash up and set it down on the table top. Farlan sighed as he finally managed to quell his laughter.

"Someone has to keep you humble Levi." Farlan teased as he took another sip of wine. Levi reached for the bottle and poured himself a glass, Isabel was drinking a root beer loudly through her straw. Levi sat his phone down on the table as he gave his friends his undivided attention. Isabel told him about her job at a doggy day care where she cleaned kennels and watched dogs. Farlan told him about his superiors and how they told him he would make a good lawyer one day. Levi felt a huge sense of relief as he listened to his friends, he was glad that the two of them were finally making a living for themselves. Levi was politely listening to Farlan rant about one of his annoying coworkers when he noticed that Isabel had grown uncharacteristically quiet. His heart dropped when he saw that Isabel had his phone and was frowning at the screen. Farlan followed his gaze and grew quiet as well.

"Isabel what do you think you are doing?" Levi enunciated each word, his tone dripping with venom. Isabel looked up at him, her cheeks tinged pink when she realized that she had been caught.

"Your phone was open and I saw her text..." Isabel trailed off as she turned to show Farlan. Levi slapped his palm over his face and sighed deeply. Farlan whistled lowly as he read the text.

"Shot her down real quick didn't you Levi." Farlan chuckled as he took another sip of wine. Levi frowned, another wave of guilt washing over him.

"Didn't mean to." he mumbled as he lifted his glass to his lips. Isabel had already set his phone down and favored her own phone, her eyes were scanning over the screen quickly as she scrolled through her phone. A few minutes of silence passed before Isabel showed Levi her screen, she had pulled up your instagram.

"This her?" she questioned, Levi only gave her a curt nod as he finished off the wine in his glass.

"Aw Levi's she's adorable!" Isabel gushed as she scrolled through your page, pausing on one of your more popular posts. A series of pictures of you on a beach towel wearing large sunglasses and a huge sun hat, the quality was amazing. He was sure that Armin took the photo, the kid had a knack for photography.

"Damn if you don't want her I'll take her." Farlan hummed as he looked over Isabels shoulder. Levi shot Farlan a disapproving glare.

"What's her number?" Farlan pressed, Isabel choked on her drink as she burst out laughing.

"Forget about it." Levi hissed as he snatched his phone off the table top.

"I'm just teasing you Levi." Farlan waved his hand dismissively as he poured another glass of wine. Levi rolled his eyes and let out a grunt, his own version of acknowledging Farlan's good natured jokes.

"You should call her." Isabel mused as she chewed on her food. Levi furrowed his brows, what would he even say to you? It's not like the two of you casually conversed, he usually only called you if Erwin couldn't reach you, which rarely happened. He glanced at his watch and frowned, if it was eight o'clock here that meant it was about two back home. Therefore you were still in school so he would have to wait until later.

"That's a dumb idea." Levi monotoned, Isabel rolled her eyes dramatically.

"No it's not, even if you're just her friend I'm sure she would like to know that she's on your mind!" Isabel insisted enthusiastically, Farlan nodded in agreement as he shoveled a forkful of pasta into his mouth.

"She's right you know-" Farlan paused as he swallowed his mouthful of food, "not everyone can handle your cold demeanor as well as others." Farlan chided as he lifted another bite to his lips.

"Fine I'll call her." Levi caved in as he stabbed his fork into his salad. Isabel squealed in excitement.

"This is great Big-bro! I'm so proud of you!" she gushed, her eyes glimmering with adoration. Levi couldn't resist reaching across the table and ruffling her hair affectionately. Dinner ended without any more noteworthy events, Farlan and Levi split the check and then bundled back up to walk back to the flat.

___

You sat at your dining room table staring hopelessly at your geometry homework. A bowl of cold soup sat untouched, you had been too stressed to eat dinner, a habit that you had recently picked up. Erwin and Hange had made dinner so you could get straight to work, which had been very sweet, but you felt guilty because truthfully you had barely made a dent in your assignment. You thought about calling Armin, he would help you. No you couldn't bother him, he was probably doing work of his own.

So you suffered in silence, the shapes and numbers spinning in your brain the longer you stared at the page. With a frustrated sigh you flipped the page only to see more blank problems that needed to be done. You stood up intending to stretch your legs and take a brain break. After you'd walked around the island in your kitchen three times you came back to the table and dropped down into the chair. You cracked your knuckles before clutching your pencil in a death grip and began to attempt one of the questions. As you scribbled on the page, attempting to make sense of the numbers and letters, you pressed too hard on your pencil and snapped the lead. You watched the tiny piece of lead roll across the page, out of spite you swiped your hand over the page to wipe the lead off.

Your eyes widened at the large smudge that now marred your paper. It all started with a single tear, it rolled down your cheek and splashed onto your paper. Before you could really understand why, you were absolutely bawling your eyes out at the dining room table. Was it because you were frustrated with school? Yeah that was definitely part of the reason. Before you could spiral into a dark pit of self deprecation, you were rudely interrupted by your phone ringing. You squinted through your bleary eyes to see that it was already 10:30 pm. You sighed, not really caring who was on the other end of the line you answered the phone.

"What" you blurted, not really in the mood to talk.

"..."

"Well? I'm kind of in the middle of something right now." your voice quivered as you fought back tears .

"Is...this a bad time?" your heart dropped at the sound of Levi's smooth voice.

"Uh" you sniffled and wiped your eyes.

"No it's not I can talk, what's the matter Levi?" you asked as you continued to wipe your eyes.

"Are you sure?" Levi probed, you nodded despite the fact that he couldn't see you. You stood up and began to pace around the kitchen once more.

"Y-Yeah-" you hiccuped and cringed, Levi sighed on the other end of the line.

"(Y/n) be honest with me....are you drunk?" Levi interrogated, you gasped it was a Monday night! Did he really think that you were that much of an alcoholic?

"No! I just...."

"Hm? What is it?" Levi quipped clearly enjoying your frazzled state.

"If you must know, I was in the middle of a mental break down." you admitted with a heavy sigh. Levi went silent on the other line, you were beginning to regret your honesty.

"It's only Monday." Levi cringed at his less than empathetic response.

"Yeah you're telling me." you chuckled, Levi immediately relaxed at the sound of your laughter even if it wasn't as bubbly as it usually was.

"What's bothering you?" Levi asked, surprisingly softly. You furrowed your brows surely he didn't call you just to hear about your day? He was probably just being nice.

"Oh uh... just school I guess." you paused your pacing to drop onto the sofa and kick your feet up onto the coffee table.

"I see." Levi mused as he reclined in the armchair he was seated in.

"Anyway, enough about me, why did you call me? Is there something you need?" you asked, you were sure that he didn't want to hear you complain about geometry.

"It's fine, tell me about your day." Levi grimaced, tell me about your day? Who was he your mother?

"O-Okay. Well I guess it was fine up until I tried to do this stupid geometry." you grumbled, the mere thought of your homework making your stomach sick with dread.

"Geometry?" Levi hummed, crossing his leg so his ankle was over his knee.

"Yeah." you sighed dejectedly, waiting for his scathing remark about how stupid you were.

"That one can be tough." Levi huffed, you could hear him re-situate so you waited to respond. Once you were sure he was settled you inhaled sharply to prepare yourself.

"It's just not clicking for me." you groaned, Levi snorted and once again you could hear some shuffling.

"Want some help?" he asked. You blinked slowly, not fully processing his words.

"Help?"

"Take it or leave it."

"I would be an idiot to decline."

______

"That wasn't so bad was it?" Levi asked, a playful glint in his grey eyes.

"It was awful, but I'm grateful for the help." you sighed, resting your head on the table. You'd been on the phone with Levi for almost two hours now. After he had offered to lend you a hand you had switched to facetime so he could see the problems. Levi tapped his pen on the counter top he was sitting at. Yeah you heard that right, Levi does math with a fucking pen like a psychopath.

"Anytime." his lip twitched upwards ever so slightly.

"God, I'm sorry that all we talked about was fucking math." you apologized.

"It's fine really. " Levi shrugged once again tapping his pen on the counter.

"Tell me about Paris? How are things on the other side of the pond?" you joked, finally able to genuinely smile now that the stress of your homework was lessened.

"First off, never say 'pond' again. Second, it's cold as a witch's tit over here." Levi enunciated each point by tapping the pen against the counter.

"Really? Is there snow over there?" You asked, suddenly very invested in the weather in France.

"Yeah there's a fuck ton." Levi stood up and brought his phone with him to a window. You could tell that he was on a high floor, you could see the lights of the city through the flurries of snow.

"Woah, it's so pretty!" you gushed as you admired Levi's view.

"Tch, I guess." Levi clicked his tongue as he flipped the camera back onto his face.

"Hey what time is it there?" you yawned.

"Six am." Levi deadpanned.

"What!! Why did you let me keep you up so late Levi! My god go to bed." you huffed incredulously. Levi rolled his eyes as he listened to you lecture him on the importance of a good nights rest.

"I mean seriously Levi no wonder why you're always so grumpy." you finished your rant as you closed your bedroom door and began pulling out a pair of flannel pj pants and a large hoodie since your room seemed to be particularly chilly. You dropped your phone onto your bed (camera down obviously) and began to change into your pjs.

"Don't worry about it sweetheart." Levi drawled, his voice a bit muffled by your comforter. Once you picked up the phone you dropped down onto your bed and sighed.

"Seriously, I'm just adjusting to the time change." Levi shrugged, he was now in his own room, also laying on the bed a pale morning glow seeping into the room.

"Uh huh sure." you teased, a smile spreading across your lips. After a moment of silence you decided that it was time to call it a night.

"Well, unlike you I need my beauty sleep." you said groggily.

"Good luck with that." Levi scoffed, his own voice a bit scratchy.

"Thanks again Levi. Goodnight or erm, Good morning I guess." you giggled as you watched Levi try to cover up a yawn.

"Yeah yeah whatever." He scoffed, you waved as you hung up. You rolled over and plugged your phone in, having learned from your past mistake. You sighed contently as you snuggled beneath the covers, your head filled with thoughts of geometry and Levi.

111 notes · View notes

hopeshoodie · 3 years

Text

Ok so in light of the Independent article (see my tag #fusebox layoffs for more info), I’ve been trying to piece together the sequence of events that lead to FB Going to Shit™.

All of the below is based on articles, tweets from the staff, and dates from screenshots. Especially with the Matchmaker stuff, I’m using the dates I personally accessed the stories- that might not be accurate to when they were actually released to an international audience, just when my phone updated the app. In hindsight, I’m not a great person to do this because I have a shit memory and don’t keep receipts, so if you have any corrections PLEASE lmk either in the dms or replies.

In sum, the timeline appears to be:

1. Key players left Fusebox in early 2020.

The one that people are probably most familiar with is David Gallopim, one of the artists who helped define the S2’s distinct style, leaving sometime before March 2020. He seemed to indicate that there was conflict over the new art style of S3, and released assets he’d designed of Harry in his own style (notably way prettier than Harry looks in-game).

But probably more important to the direction of the company, Michael Othen, one of the co-founders and former CEO, left in July of 2020 (I had thought it was earlier in the year but according to LinkedIn it was July). It’s much more unclear why he left, but it’s notable because he was a huge force in making the game inclusive of LGBTQ characters.

So all in all, not a great sign when employees who had a huge hand in creating the content and direction of a game that defined its success jump ship. Especially after the game was seemingly hitting its stride, with the host of Love Island (the TV show) doing a sponsored Let’s Play of S3 and projects in the works like Boat Party and CMM.

2. It seems like Fusebox‘s CEO/executives hired new management, either in 2020 or early 2021. Employees complain that the executives don’t understand what it takes to make a game and are pulling the studio in the wrong direction. It’s unclear if the newly hired execs had experience.

Wil Stephens, the CEO/founder, has been with FB since its inception but also appears to have only founded game distribution ventures and not worked in any development or employment capacity. If that’s the case, maybe the complaints about lack of experience/knowledge about the mechanics of making games work are about him. If not, then some of the newly hired execs would likely be to blame.

Paul Virapen, COO, was brought on in November of 2020. He’s worked with Disney’s gaming division, Big Pixel studios, Wooga. The quality of that experience is dubious since he headed up the ‘let’s make apps for Apple watches, it’ll be the next big thing’ department… Lol. Notably also, all of his roles had been in the executive/managerial realm, not the development teams, so the complains might have been about him. THIS IS SPECULATION, but I’m willing to bet that Virapen was a if not THE driving force in switching Fusebox’s focus entirely to matchmaker. All the studios he’s worked with have primarily produced and promoted Match 3 games, and he has a background working with big studios that produce games for large international audiences, not small studios making narrative games for limited audiences.

A new Manager of Finances, Ruth Erskine, was brought on in December of 2020

Rob Goddard, a new producer, was brought in January of 2021

Several key operations positions were filled by existing employees being promoted to management- 2 as far as I can tell. But as a whole it seems like December 2020 was a huge shift in leadership for the upper management while a lot of the other teams expanded but kept their old players as well.

3. At some point in late 2020- mid 2021, the executive team made the decision to switch LITG’s focus from a narrative pass-based game to a Match 3 incorporating romance narrative cut scenes. In early 2021, Fusebox teased more content to come while releasing S3 (seemingly referring to Matchmaker and not S4). In the interim between S3 endings and Boat Party’s release they put out an interview confirming the new game will be Match 3 but did seem to indicate that the plan at that time was for Matchmaker to be a side project with a different development team and not replace the main game. Notably, the LITG writers and artists were reassured that their roles will continue to exist (according to the independent article) as they’re working on S4.

3. In September of 2020, Matchmaker became briefly available in the US. That’s when I first downloaded it, at least. It would be added/removed from the google play store multiple times before having a unilateral release in July of 2021.

Throughout 2020, Matchmaker is available to Asian audiences solely with LITG S1 getting rolled out in incremental updates.

Eventually, Beanie Quinn is released (March 2021)

LA Noir is released (May 2021)

Seduction Games is released (late May or June 2021- I got the update and played it June 3rd, but hadn’t opened the app for a month or so. It might have come out before then, which is unfortunate for this timeline since it’s so inextricably linked to the open letter and layoff dates)

LITG S2 is released (only like 20 levels of it) the same month- June 19th for me. Notably, all of these stories are only released to an international audience, with the UK and USA still not having access to the app.

4. At the same time, Fusebox’s internal affairs are pretty quiet from 2020-2021, at least on social media.

S3 comes out in 2020, Boat Party comes out later in the year and finishes in 2021. Post S3 in October of 2021, a survey goes out gauging player interest in new art styles and representation, which was pretty in keeping with past actions and seemed promising for S4.

Boat Party features a promising cross promotion implementing irl brands into the game. It’s unclear if enough money was made from this on FB or the sponsor’s end to make that strategy viable, but that might’ve impacted management’s outlook for the profitability of LITG.

Fusebox teases more content for the summer on Instagram, and then follows up and confirms it’ll be a proper season.

5. More key players leave in early 2021

Ed Sibley is still listed as Narrative Direction on LinkedIn, but he’s not credited as a writer on Season 4 (he was on 3,2,and 1) and started work with NetSpeak games in May of 2021, so we can assume he left around then or at least transitioned away from Fusebox then.

Fred Francis, another writer who had been on the team since S1, turns in his resignation ‘weeks’ before the layoffs were announced in late June. So we can assume he made his exit sometime early June or late May.

6. Prior to the release of Seduction games in May/June, staff expressed concern about the biphobia in Seduction Games. No sources have given a specific time when this took place. They were reassured that the problem would be corrected prior to release, but then the story was released as is to an international audience in June. The article released by the Independent is unclear- there might have been discussion prior to the open letter where staff expressed concerns and then were reassured before the game going live. OR the open letter might have been the first expression of concern by the staff. I tend to think the former, and the open letter was a response to Matchmaker going live with Seduction Games anyways, but I have no proof for that. On May 24th, 31 employees sent an open letter of concern regarding the problematic content in Matchmaker. This letter isn’t public, so we don’t know the scope of the employees' concerns or who the employees were.

7. To resolve the situation, a meeting between the staff and at least the COO (likely more than just him though) was held sometime after May 24th. Allegedly, Virapen was disrespectful to the employees who had questions, refused to answer, and ended the meeting early before any resolution was had by closing his laptop and leaving the room. At least 4 HR complaints were made in the wake of that meeting, we do not know the nature of those complaints.

8. Some time mid-July (maybe July 26th? A writer tweeted about their job ending soon on that date), employees were made aware that the LITG app would move into ‘sunset mode’. It’s unclear what was communicated, but it seems as though S4 will be heavily delayed or cancelled altogether and no future seasons would be made. Writers begin to post about looking for work on Twitter

9. June 30th- The majority of Fusebox writing staff announce on twitter they’re out of work. In addition to the entire writing staff, unity engineers and producers are also let go.

10. July 5th - Fusebox executives respond to an article by MCVUK with a statement asserting they were “consulting with [their] employees on a proposed change to its business model” that would focus on producing Matchmaker content. They also expounded that the move was to secure “cash injections and and continued support from respected investors across the media and gaming industry”

11. July 6th- Fusebox announces that S4 will be delayed from the summer release date and that there is no fixed release date.

12. August 2nd- three jobs are posted to Fusebox’s careers page on their website, one being Head of Narrative Content. In the job listing, it specifies that they’ll be maintaining existing properties as well as new ones, and that because of the co-development model (re:fusebox outsourcing Matchmaker to another studio) the new Narrative Lead must collaborate with external content creators.

Hopefully posting this timeline gives players a better understanding of how radically Fusebox has changed in the course of 2021 (and how royally they screwed over the people who made LITG what it is). Again, please let me know if you have receipts showing dates are different or things to add.

#fusebox layoffs #fusebox games

34 notes · View notes

mandoalorian · 4 years

Text

2:32am [Frankie Morales x Reader]

Word count: 2k

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Rating: PG

Warnings: mention of nightmare and anxiety

Another bad dream. Frankie woke up in a frenzy, sweat pearling at his hairline, heaving and panting. He tugged at his shirt and boxer shorts, feeling trapped— like he couldn't breathe. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. But instead, he reached for his phone which was charging just on his bedside table. Unlocking it, his fingers dialled your number. He wasn't thinking. He felt scared and unsafe. But you were his instinct.

You heard your phone buzz first, stirring you slightly out of your sleep. Then the dial tone began to play. You rubbed your eyes and caught your phone moving around on your dressing table, the screen illuminating your dark bedroom. Rubbing your eyes and stretching your arms, you tiredly slipped out of bed and grabbed your phone. Not bothering to check who was calling, you tapped the green ‘answer’ button.

"Hello?" you yawned. There was silence. Complete silence. You pondered for a second— wondering if it was a scam caller or someone had dialled the wrong number or maybe the person on the other end of the line just hadn't worked out your garbled greeting. "Hello?" You repeated, just a little more clearly.

Frankie closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Was this a mistake? It was 2:32 in the morning. What was he doing calling you? He considered hanging up, cursing himself in the back of his head. He couldn't even gather words. You turned on your lamp and took your phone from your ear, checking to see who was calling. When you saw his name, it startled you. "Fish?" you asked, worry dripping from your tongue. "Are you alright? What's going on?"

When Frankie heard the anxiety seeping through your tone, his heart dropped. The last thing he wanted was to make you nervous. He took another deep breath, trying to compose himself. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes and he grabbed onto the blanket over his bed, clenching the soft material into his fist. "Bad dream." Frankie whispered. He hoped you had heard him. He didn't want to repeat himself. As soon as he acknowledged it, the memories of his nightmare came flooding back.

"Say no more, I'm coming over." You told Frankie, taking the phone off your ear and almost hanging up— until you heard him shout.

“No!" He sounded panicked— more panicked than you had ever heard him before. "Please, please stay on the phone. I- I don't want to be alone."

You hesitated— but how could you ever deny Frankie? You only lived two blocks away, barely a five minute walk. "Okay." you agreed and you heard Frankie breathe a sigh of relief. "Fish, everything is going to be okay. I promise you. I'm here." you promised him. Frankie didn't reply, but your gentle tone of voice soothed him.

You put your phone on loud-speaker, just in case Frankie decided to talk. You looked around your bedroom and spotted yesterday's laundry on the floor. You picked up your hoodie and quickly pulled it over yourself and slid your feet into your comfiest pairs of shoes. You took a quick glance at yourself in your full length mirror and noted the pair of silk shorts you were wearing. No, an over-sized hoodie on top of your pyjamas and a pair of old shoes wasn't exactly your best look— but Frankie needed you. You didn't care, and you knew he wouldn't either.

"Fish," you picked your phone back up. "I want you to unlock your door for me. Wait for me in the living room and… do you still have those candles I got for your birthday? The ones I said would relax you?"

"Yes," Frankie hummed.

"Light some. It's going to help. I won't be long." you put your phone in your hoodie pocket and padded into your own living room. Under the television, in a make-shift bookshelf, you located yours and Frankie's favourite comedy movie. You slid it into your purse and entered the kitchen.

You had your own confectionery cupboard for every time Frankie and the guys visited. They all had big appetites and whilst you ate to live, Frankie lived to eat. You knew he wouldn't say no to a few snacks, and if there was a chance they could put a smile on his face, you wanted to try just that. You stuffed some of his favourites in your purse, alongside the DVD, before shutting out the light and leaving your apartment in the dead of night.

Frankie ran his fingers through his hair. It was still wet from his shower before bed— damp curls twisting at the nape of his neck. He considered throwing on one of his signature baseball caps, but decided against it. After all, it was only you. You'd seen him a lot worse. Frankie dressed himself in a pair of light grey sweatpants and kept on his plain white shirt. He padded, barefoot, into his bathroom, pulling out the unused and untouched candles you had bought for him when it was his birthday earlier in the year.

He felt bad for not using them. He knew they were a good idea and he should've at least given them a shot. You often preached about their healing abilities. But instead, he kept them in the cupboard under his sink, stored in an old wicker basket. Taking out the basket, he popped it on the side of the bathtub to analyse. There was a few candles to choose from. Cinnamon stick, Roseberry sorbet, birthday cake, fresh linen, cherry cola. You really had gotten him scents from all sides of the spectrum so he could figure out which he liked best. Of course, Frankie didn't think too much of it. Unable to decide on just one candle, he carried the whole basket into the living room and decided to light them all.

So when you arrived, the smell was overwhelming. You opened his front door, that led straight into his living room, and saw him sat awkwardly in the centre of his three seater leather sofa, tapping his fingers against a cold bottle of beer. You offered him a tired smile, but when you shut the front door behind you, and took in the five different scents floating around the living room, you couldn't help but twist your face.

"Frankie…." you raised an eyebrow, giving the air a few sniffs. "What's that smell?" you quizzed him, walking around the room. In one corner, you could smell musk and spice, and in another, you could smell fruit and flowers. Eventually, you turned to face the brown haired boy.

"I lit the candles, like you said." He shrugged innocently. He had these puppy dog eyes that you just found so hard to resist.

"Oh Fish," you giggled lightly, covering your mouth with your hand in disbelief. "I didn't mean light all the candles at the same time."

"You didn't?" Frankie bit his bottom lip awkwardly and his cheeks flushed a rosy pink colour. He really felt like he had fucked up the most basic of tasks.

But instead, you took a step closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him into a hug. Amongst all the weird and mixed up scents in the room— you couldn't miss the unmistakeable scent of Frankie Morales. You couldn't put your finger on what exactly what it was. If you could, you'd buy a million candles and air fresheners that smelled just like him. He smelt like home. He was your home.

When you held him, he was warm. It was probably the heat radiating from all the darn candles, but wow— you could really stay like this, head buried into his broad and comforting chest, for hours. When he hugged you back, you never felt so alive. You loved the way his big arms slung around your body and pressed you into him tight, like he was scared to let go.

"I brought you some snacks," you mumbled, your cheek pressing into the soft material of his white shirt. "Your favourite candies… and uhm, a movie too."

"Yeah?" Frankie asked. "What movie?"

"Ferris Bueller’s Day Off," you told him with a smile— knowing that it was his favourite 80s movie. "I figured we could hang out and just- watch a cheesy movie together."

"It's two in the morning," Frankie chuckled, eventually pulling away from you. "Aren't you tired?"

You were exhausted.

"It doesn't matter," you shook off his question and took his hand. "Blow out these candles and- you've got a television in your bedroom, right? We can cozy up in bed and put the movie on. If I'm in this cinnamon-sorbet-cola-cake-fresh linen living room for another minute I think I might just pass out."

Frankie laughed in agreement. Still hand in hand, he took the lead and dragged you into his small box bedroom, blowing out the candles on his way there. You slid your shoes off and clambered into his bed as he turned on the television. He squatted in front of the TV, scratching his head in bewilderment as he tried to work out how to turn the DVD player on. Frankie was never the best with technology.

As he was working that out, you emptied the snacks out of your purse and sprawled them all over his bed. You smiled at the selection you had acquired.

Noticing Frankie had finally got the DVD player working, you handed him over the box and he pushed the disk in, a whirring sound filling the room as the movie began to play. Frankie walked over to his side of the bed, sliding under the blankets with you. His face lit up when he saw the candy you had arranged. He split open a packet of sour patch kids, and, gentleman-like as ever, popped one in your mouth. The tart taste made your tongue tingle and closed your eyes, shivering, as you tried swallowing the acidic candy. Frankie laughed, watching you struggle to eat the little sour patch kid.

"Too bitter," you grumbled and Frankie shook his head, popping a sour patch kid into his mouth and eating it with no problem. "Okay, now you're just showing off." you nudged him jokingly.

Frankie opened a box of milk duds, his favourite chocolate, and dropped one of the caramel balls into your mouth, knowing it would rid your taste buds of the pungent sour patch kids. You hummed in delight, giving him a brief nod of your head in approval.

You weren't a huge fan of the candy, at least, not tonight. You were still so tired and you didn't want the sugar rush keeping you awake longer than necessary. Frankie, however, was helping himself, and you were glad of it. As long as it made him happy.

About half way through the movie, Frankie noticed you had fallen asleep beside him. Your mouth was open slightly, and he took your appearance in for a few moments. He adored your small, gentle snores and the way your lips curved. He pushed your hair out of your face so he could get a better look and my God you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He imagined you sleeping beside him every day. How he'd probably never have a bad dream again.

He wanted to tell you his true feelings. The feelings he had for you the moment he first laid his eyes on you. But it was too much of a risk. You and him were best friends and he didn't want to risk jeopardizing that. Feeling his eyes get heavy, he turned off the television and shut out the night light, swinging an arm around your waist and nuzzling his face in your hair. If he was going to say something, he should say it now.

"I love you." he professed quietly, closing his eyes and falling asleep once more.

Permanent taglist: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @goth-topic ~ let me know if you want to be added/removed! x

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #catfish morales #catfish morales x reader #triple frontier

270 notes · View notes

thewritewolf · 3 years

Text

After the End Chapter 1: Rain

Summary: Ladybug and Chat Noir are triumphant! The big bad Hawkmoth goes down to roaring applause! People are crying in the streets, feeling emotions without fear for the first time in years! Everyone got everything they could have wanted...

...But the story doesn't stop just because the storyteller stops talking. So what happens when victory leaves unanswered questions and loose threads? Can they really let their guard down after so long spent struggling? What happens after the end?

Hello and welcome to my Marichat May 2021 story - After the End! We're gonna have some angst, some fluff, and hopefully a good ol' emotional time.

First | Previous | Next | Last

@marichatmay

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

The sun had set hours ago, but the City of Lights was never dark, not completely. The warm yellow glow of street lamps and the cold, white light pouring out from late night stores made sure of that, but they were small oases huddled against the heavy rain and howling wind. Tucked underneath the cover of a balcony canopy with his legs hanging over the side, Chat Noir watched the city get drenched but saw none of it. His mind was somewhere else entirely.

How long had it been now since that final battle? Four months, maybe? The moment that one parent that he thought was gone forever was returned to him, at the cost of losing the other completely. In the end, it was probably a fair trade, but even now it was too much for his heart to handle sometimes. But everyday it got a little better. He just needed to occupy himself while he got a grip on it.

And what better way than pursuing the quest that was keeping him in Paris? Although odds were good that the people he was looking for weren’t here any more now that their puppet was gone.

Chat was sure that his father would have kept some sort of record about them - if only in case he needed to blackmail them later. The problem was that the mansion was huge. Even with him spending most of his daylight hours thoroughly checking for secrets, there was a lot of ground to cover and plenty of places to hide things.

A plan of attack got put on the backburner when he finally registered what he had been unconsciously following. Someone was teetering down the street, one hand struggling to keep their umbrella over their head despite the strong winds, the other just barely holding a large package off the drenched ground. Even from where he was sitting he could tell that it was a losing fight.

A faint smile tugged at his lips and he rose to a crouch on the balcony bars, ready to pounce. Just because there weren’t akumas or amoks to fight any more didn’t mean he couldn’t still be someone’s hero.

-------------

“Stupid Professor Leclair,” Marinette grumbled to herself, stopping for the fourth time in six steps to readjust her grip on the project that would be worth a quarter of her grade. In an unflattering impersonation of him, she added, “Wah work on that cross stitching wah.”

Marinette scrambled to hold onto her things as a powerful gust of wind buffeted her, but it was no use. She’d have to drop one thing or another. Realizing that being sick for a few days would be better than losing the last few weeks of progress on her dress, she let the umbrella be wrenched out of her hands to get a better grip on her dress.

Clutching it tight to her chest to keep it dry, she braced herself for the first cold drops of the early fall rain to hit her.

She kept waiting for a few long seconds before tentatively opening an eye and looking up. To her surprise, the umbrella was still there, held in place by a hand covered in a familiar black leather suit.

“Oh! Chat Noir.” She gave him a sidelong look, eyes slightly narrowed. “What are you doing out this late? And in this bad of a storm, too!”

“No need to fall over yourself thanking me,” Chat Noir replied with a teasing smirk. “Just doing my best to help the citizens of Paris.”

Marinette gave a faint smile. “Right, sorry. Thanks, Chat Noir.”

“No problem. Care to switch?” Chat Noir held out the umbrella, his free hand reaching for the bundled up dress.

“Well… Alright, but just because I’m getting really tired of carrying it.” She gladly took the umbrella and cautiously passed the dress to him. “Just be careful with those claws, okay? That’s a huge part of my grade you’re holding.”

“Oh, no need to worry about me.” Chat Noir grinned, the white of his smile standing out against the glistening black of his suit. “These claws can be very gentle when they want to be.”

The two of them began to walk side by side at a brisk pace, with Chat crouching slightly so she didn’t need to hold the umbrella quite so high. Puberty had been kind to him and he’d grown like a weed during their teenage years. Plagg had no doubt been grumbling about how often he’d had to change the suit to keep up with it.

“I’ll take your word for it then.” But Marinette felt instantly reassured - her partner had always been true to his word, from their first fight all the way through the defeat of Hawkmoth.

Hawkmoth… The name brought a frown to her face. Not just because of the memories of a campaign against him lasting the better part of a decade, but because of how it all ended.

There were some things that even the miraculous cure couldn’t heal.

Before she had even realized it, they were back at her apartment. She had one foot in the doorway, her umbrella closed at her side and reaching for the dress as Chat Noir passed it carefully back to her. He took a step back, that same smile on his face but now she noticed something else.

“You take care now, okay?”

She realized that the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Instead, there was an exhaustion there, a weariness.

And loneliness.

“Chat Noir, wait!”

He hadn’t even made it down the three stairs that lead to the apartment’s door before he froze in place. His tail stood to attention as he half turned back to her.

“Something wrong?”

“Well, its just, um… I usually make way too much for dinner so if you ever want to come over to my place around this time to help me finish my leftovers, well…” She pointed at the balcony right above them. “...Feel free to pay me a visit sometime.”

Another teasing smirk found its way to his face. “You know what they say about feeding strays, don’t you? They might just keep coming back.”

“I don’t think I’d mind,” she replied with a smirk of her own.

“Then maybe I’ll take you up on your offer sometime.” He gave her a two finger salute and a wink. “See you later, then.”

He pulled out his baton and in a moment was out of view.

“See you later…” she repeated to the empty air.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Chat Noir #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Marichat #MarichatMay2021 #ml fanfiction #my writing #After the End

54 notes · View notes

nctchaotiq · 3 years

Text

Studio | Mark Lee

Characters: Fem y/n x Mark Lee

Theme: smut, fluff

Plot: Mark is recording his rap parts in the studio, but when you arrive it turns out he's done recording so you two just hang out in his studio leading to something a couple can do alone.

(I didn't proofread this one again, but hopefully you enjoy! And I know, Mark is probably vanilla when it comes to everything in a relationship, and this is probably him if his dominant side shows. ENJOY!)

---

You open your eyes after a deep sleep, yawning, and slowly gaining vision. Your sight is filled with sunlight coming from the bedroom window of the apartment that you and Mark share.

Because Mark tends to be extravagant, of course he got the unit on the top floor, containing two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, kitchen, maid's quarter, and the extensive view of Han River from the huge floor to ceiling windows surrounding the whole apartment. For the average person living in Seoul, hell, this isn't normal, to live here one must be rich, like Mark Lee, your boyfriend of two years. As you appreciate the view from the bedroom, you thought about how Mark was up so early, you grabbed your phone from the glass bedside table and opened it to see a text from Mark, "Hey baby, sorry to leave so early today, I got an urgent call from LSM telling me to drop by SM this morning. See you tonight at the studio? Love you!"

You were sad to see his text knowing that if Lee Soo Man, the head of SM Entertainment, demands for him, Mark won't be able to come home most likely until midnight and you'll be stuck all alone with Auntie Sunny, your stay in house maid, and yours and Mark's dog, Blaze, a black miniature Poodle.

Grabbing your phone and going down the stairs leading to the living area, you sat on the huge, comfy, couch staring at the window with sleepy eyes and limp body. Blaze was there watching you as he wags his tail with excitement when your eyes landed his, "Blazey, baby, come here." You picked up your Poodle and cuddled, until a voice startled you.

"Looking a little tired today Miss y/n? Mark left early today and it looked urgent." It was Auntie Sunny's voice coming from the kitchen, preparing some cereal and fruits for you, "Here eat this y/n." You get up and drop Blaze softly on the couch, but he then follows you to the dining table.

It's always like this when Mark's out, you left with the Poodle and Auntie Sunny, though you have to admit that you get along well with the two considering that Blaze is basically yours and Mark's son, and Auntie Sunny is just a few years older than you which made you two get along quickly, you think it's weird to call him "Auntie" since the gap is just three years, though she looks older than you by ten years, but still you do since it's a huge respect in Korea.

You actually pitied Sunny since she didn't have any parents, never graduated in college, didn't have a degree, she's basically an orphan and when Mark's manager assigned her in his house, after mistakenly being assigned in Taeyong and Doyoung's apartment, she was absolutely happy that she can finally work after months of waiting.

"How have you been these days Auntie?" You ask, while sipping on the milk from the now vanished cereal.

"Well, I've been good though nothing to worry about Miss y/n." She says as a smile curls from her lips.

"Oh." You said after giving her the bowl of cereal, "I almost forgot to ask you to call the driver for tonight, Mark wants me in his studio to visit." You said.

"Not a problem Miss y/n, Sir Mark already told me earlier this morning to call the driver for later." You nod in response.

The night has come and you didn't doll yourself up considering that you're just going to Mark's studio tonight. "A little tinted red lipgloss wouldn't hurt." You said to yourself as you wore the pair of expensive Dior sneakers.

There you were, all set and ready for a night with Mark at his studio. You just wore a lace bra pairing it with a white oversized jacket and a black skirt that stops right above your knee. "Perfect." You say while checking yourself out in the mirror.

The driver was there and you bid your goodbyes to Auntie Sunny, while Blaze was over there whining about your sudden goodbye but being okay after Auntie picked him up.

"Thanks." You say to the driver as he closes the car door and smiles at you, "To Sir Mark's studio right?" You nod and say "Yes, his SM studio please." He said "Okay" and in a while he searched the address and pinned it, "Let's see, is this the right pin Miss? Sorry I forgot about it since the boys have a lot of studios around." He said while you're softly chuckling at his innocence, you looked at the map on the digital screen of the car and nodded once you saw 'SM Entertainment Headquarters' pinned on the map.

Once you arrived the building you said your thanks to the driver and left, the building was packed today, full of fans, you can see a lot of 'Mark stans' as they call it, seeing their handfans with Mark's face, some fans buying Mark's merch, and some just waiting and sitting in the SM Cafe while sipping on their drinks and staring at you, whispering to their friends.

You saw Mark's manager there and he approached you to ask if you'll need an escort knowing that there are many fans, or if you're uncomfortable using the main entrance and said he can pass you through the back entrance. You passed his offer since you just want to stay lowkey.

You and Mark have publicized your relationship a year ago and to be honest some fans were supportive of it, and some were absolutely not. The first month of it was so hard, the fans gave you a hard time, especially those obsessive ones called 'sasaengs' they stalked you and Mark everywhere, followed every move, and they were creepy as hell. You and Mark were advised to stay inside your apartment that time since they were intense and even knew the apartment you and Mark were staying hoping to catch a glimpse of him. The fans that brought you light were the good fans, those supportive of Mark and his decisions, those who were happy for him having a loving girlfriend.

You finally reached your way up, the SM building was complex, it was also difficult to pass through the elevators, everytime you went up to Mark's studio, it would either be him or his manager to fetch you because you'll need a fingerprint scan in order to access the elevators. You walk slowly and search for Mark's studio in the third floor, the level full of studios for producers and artists. You bumped into Taeyong while searching for the room.

"Hey y/n looking for Mark are you?" You nod in response, "Come. He's in PD Blue's studio, not in his, if that's what you're looking for." You stare at him while he talks, feeling dumbfounded that you're looking for Mark's studio. He chuckles lightly, "I was done recording and it's his turn. He's the last one." You followed in Taeyong's footsteps and led you into the studio.

It was silent when you went inside, no people inside, you were almost surprised when someone held your hand from behind, the coldness of his hands made it unrecognizable, but when you turned around to see who it was, it's your boyfriend. Mark Lee.

"Thanks bro." Mark said to Taeyong and he just nodded, gave Mark a bro fist, and left after Mark closed the door.

You stare in Mark's eyes and admire him after not seeing him the first thing you wake up earlier this morning.

"Cat got your tongue?" Mark chuckles.

"I just missed you." You say, "Thank you for coming here." Mark says and you just nod.

The studio that was once noisy and musical is now surrounded by silence and tension. Mark's hands caress your hair, your cheeks, you tiptoe to kiss his left cheek and hug him to show him that you missed him a lot.

"Mark, didn't you miss me?" You stop the hug and stare at him with tears slowly forming in your eyes.

He moved closer to you, and closer, and closer, making you lean on the wall just beside the locked studio door, now, Mark's face is an inch away from yours, you can feel his body heat all around you, and his arms, pushing the wall, locked into you so you won't go anywhere. "Of course I missed you babygirl." He stares at you, his pupils dilating, fully black, fucking full of lust and love for you.

Sexual tension is all around the room and suddenly it's like there's no air conditioner in this studio from how your cleavage is dripping with sweat, your core burning with intense desire for touch. You stare at Mark, admiring his facial structure, you're caressing his jawline, and when you land your eyes on his swollen lips, you bite your lower lip and stare back at his dark pupils.

"Fucker." Mark swears under his breath, he looks on the gap between you two only to find out that he's quickly forming a tent on his sweatpants. He stares at you again and slowly he removes your jacket, you get a bit flustered since you only wore a lace bralette under the oversized jacket.

"Why are you wearing only this under that jacket?" Mark says as he lands his eyes on your boobs, studying the cloth that covered both mounds, noticing it's that Victoria's Secret bra that he bought for you about a week ago. "Well I didn't think it would be too hot in here for me to remove the jacket." You said and smirked at Mark, feeling a little playful you come closer to Mark and whisper something in his ear.

"You know, it was supposed to be for tonight when we get home." And with that Mark's length bulges even more, him controlling himself and simply saying "And what do you want to do tonight when we get home huh?"

"I missed you so much Mark, I want you to fuck me balls deep, until I'm crying and screaming your name, fill me with your cum, Mark." Your words were music to Mark's ears, hearing those hardened his dick. Hearing those made him kiss you like you're his first and last meal of the day, the hunger and passion on his lips made you feel loved and horny more than ever, you started to feel your panties getting dampened and you're starting to crave Mark's touch, you wanted Mark to fuck you right then and there on the studio. You kissed Mark hungrily, returning each of his hungry kisses. Mark's kissing you on your neck messily, while he squeezes your breasts and unclasps your bra, throws them to whichever part of the room, landing on the music mixers.

Mark wouldn't stop sucking on your nipples, giving you the best pleasure ever after weeks of craving his touch. You have to admit, even though Mark was busy you two always had the time to have sex, knowing how you and Mark's libido is high and how you both have a public sex kink, you both can do it wherever and whenever. He touches you where you need him the most, just to have a feel of how wet you are, and god, you're definitely soaked for Mark.

"Such a slut huh, you went here to get fucked by me?

"Yes, fuck me, please Mark, fuck me in the studio."

"Baby not here, I'll fuck you in my studio, come on." And then there was Mark hurrying to cover you up, return your bra and jacket on, and carrying you bridal style, sprinting through the hallways carefully and making loud footsteps and chuckles to find his studio as quick as he can so he can finally fuck you and make you a mess.

Once Mark entered his studio, you're thrown in his large couch just beside the mixers you look at Mark as he hurries to lock the door, shut the curtains completely, and turn on the lights. Once he's all done he jumps on top of you and removes every piece of clothing you have, exposing your hardened nipples and soaking wet core.

Mark starts again by kissing you rough, marking your neck, sucking on your nipples as he gets a feel on how much wetness is dripping from your core. He gets up and you whine as he faces the mirror on the opposite side of the couch, he was focused on removing his shirt, which exposed his toned chest and his six pack.

He stare at you from the mirror and says "Wanna suck?" after cupping his dick. After he said that waves of arousal sparked through your body, you almost felt your legs twitch and your pussy wetter than ever, you know that you need Mark's touch now.

Mark chuckles as he sees you all flustered from his words and your pussy sparkling from the mirror's reflection. "What are you waiting for, come here and beg like a good kitty." he says and you just nod in approval while getting up from the sofa smiling like an idiot.

"Hmm beg first y/n." Mark smiles at you when he found you already kneeling infront of him, mouth ready to take in his length.

"Mark, please I want to suck your cock."

"Mhm, go on baby. Make me feel good."

You start by licking the tip of his cock, palming the balls and playing with it, you can feel Mark's hands slowly gripping your hair, tightening for every lick that you do. You attempt to take on Mark's whole cock, it was always like this, slim, veiny, but juicy as hell, he tastes like mixed sugar and salt and you loved every drop of it.

"Fuck y/n, so good." Mark said while gasping for breath, he bobs your hair carefully on his length but after a few minutes he couldn't resist and just used your mouth as a fucktoy, making himself feel good, and your mouth a big mess from his juices spilling over your chin and neck.

"Get up and lay down." Mark told you as he pointed to the couch. You were a bit worried because the couch was dark red, you could always stain it with your cum, but somehow Mark manages to remove it, he came clean to you one day and told you that he pays the dry cleaner more for the service and that made you feel shy.

Mark chuckled, it seems like he has read your mind when he said "Don't worry babygirl, Mr Dry Cleaner is receiving good bucks." "Now can I see your horny pussy? Will you open up babygirl?" Mark's assuring voice made you calm, he asked you to open your legs and so of course you did, revealing to him the now wetter pussy, heating up for his touch.

For a moment, he plays with your clit, touching, flicking, touching it rhythmically which felt like torture to you, you resist the moans that wants to come out of you.

"Babyy, that's so rude. Please fuck me." You sigh as Mark continues to tease you, you just whimper and could no longer resist your moans so you blurted out one.

"Hmm what a slut" Mark says, and then he suddenly slams a finger inside you.

"Mark Lee, oh fuck." You know Mark likes it when you moan or scream his full name, it brings him joy and power because he is assured that he's giving you so much pleasure. Just as you're about to cum on his fingers, he stops and flips you over, "All fours baby" he loves this position and you do as well just because Mark can fuck you from behind, his hands choking you as he fucks you balls deep and breeds you with his load inisde of you.

Mark wasted no time and lined up his erection on your hole, he rubs the tip on your clit making you moan.

"Fuck me hard Mark Lee." And in that moment Mark thrusts in and out of you in a slow but sexy pace, his eyes looking at you through the mirror on the opposite wall and you're staring at him moaning at the view of both of you fucking.

This is your favorite about Mark's studio, how you could see him fuck you from behind, it turns you on even more.

"God you feel so good and tight around me y/n." He says as his eyes close shut and his thrusts go at a faster pace, choking you even more and pulling your hair for extra support. His length, fully disappeared and inside you, the studio is filled with moans, good thing it's soundproofed with thick walls.

Mark flips you so that he's facing you now.

"Y/n call me daddy now please." He enters your hole again and fastens his pace. You can feel that Mark is nearing his orgasm so quickly. "Daddy I wanna cum!" You scream and moan, his name and 'daddy' comes out of your mouth ocassionally "Daddy Mark, fuck. Harder!"

"Who's fucking you so damn good? Only Mark Lee, right babygirl?" He says in between his breathy and rough moans.

"Yes! Only Mark Lee fucks me this good. Oh god oh daddy."

"I'm gonna cum! Oh shit Mark, you are fucking me so good daddy." You say as your pussy hugs Mark's dick even tighter making it twitch a bit. You finally cum and you look at Mark who's staring at you while you release on his cock, Mark kisses you rough and with passion and continues thrusting in and out of you.

With a few more thrusts, Mark has managed to be close again to his orgasm, "Gonna cum now princess, holy fuck." He rapidly and steadily fucks your hole like a sex addicted maniac.

"Mark come inside me, I want your babies inside me daddy!" You say like an excited wanton slut. "You're so good y/n, fuck here it goes." Mark wasted no time and came inside your pussy, "Fuck it up" is all that he can say while he shoots his load inside you, his cum dripping and overflowing in you, you feeling his warm cum inside your stomach, enjoying it like a cumslut. Indeed you are a cumslut for Mark Lee.

You two take time to catch your breath, messy hair and sticky skin, Mark's side bang is sticking on his forehead.

After some time, you two were finally relaxed, Mark has removed his cock inside you, and both of you hugging each other despite the sticky feeling of your skin from the sweat and cum.

"You took my cock so well again." Mark teases you.

"Lucky you right?" You tease him back and you both chuckle.

"You were wild for me right there baby. You crave for my dick all the time. Slut hehe."

"Of course, I'm wild but only for Mark fucking Lee." You smile to him and for the last time you peck his lips and caress his hair, admiring how beautiful he is and how good he makes you feel.

"Mark you made me feel so good, you're crazy for doing that." You say.

"Yeah, should be the only one making you feel that good though princess."

"Only you! Good daddy." You smirk at Mark as you felt his dick twitch, slightly touching your clit.

"Hmm round two at home?" He smiles and you whine "Let's go home now Mark."

Mark chuckles and gives you a kiss on the forehead, "So eager princess? You haven't had enough have you? You still want this?" And he holds his dick and rubs the tip softly to your clit.

"Tease! Nah but seriously let's go home it's getting late Marky." You told him while trying to stand up to get your clothes.

"Let me dress you up princess."

That's your favorite about Mark, he can fuck you hard and rough, but after all that he takes care of you like a gem, his most prized possession. You look at him in awe and think about how lucky you are for finding Mark.

(a/n: i know it's early for a part two but yall are amazing, so here it is.)

#mark lee #smut #nct smut #imagines #drabbles #scenarios

97 notes · View notes

srose-foxfire · 3 years

Text

Damirae Week 2021 - Day 5

“The Enchanted Rose” Day 5: Nightmares

Crimson red was all Raven could see. She turned and turned hoping to see anything that wasn’t covered in red.How could this had happened? She had felt so happy just moments ago she had been dancing the night away with Damian feeling so at peace and alive. He twirled her around that huge ballroom floor, he spun her so many times but not once did Raven ever get dizzy. She kept her gaze on Damian, for he was her center.

Once her feet were beginning to feel sore, Damian like the gentleman he was, escorted her back to her bedroom. After bidding her a goodnight Damian turned to leave but then stopped him as Raven lifted herself on his tiptoes to give him a small peck on his cheeks. Raven caught a small blush coat his cheeks as he bowed and then left her in her room. The last thing she saw was his tail wagging. She closed her door and went off to bed, falling deep into a sleep with a huge grin on her face.

Or that was she imagined her night to end like. Instead she was here, in her father’s lands, who she sworn she would never return to. This was the life she was born into and one she never wanted to accept as hers. Raven hugged herself tightly, wanting to escape whatever hell she had just entered. She looked down at her bare feet as a strange shadow started creeping itself towards her, turning her into the demon she feared she would become. Frightened, Raven cried out and held her head tightly in her hands.

“You have to stop letting these fears hold you down.”

Raven open her eyes and gaze towards who had spoken to. There in front of her stood a woman, wrapped in a white hooded cloak. She had her face hidden by the hood, all Raven could make out was her light pink lips and the ends of her black hair just barely peeking out from her shoulders.

“Who are you?” Raven asked.

The woman only smiled beneath her hood, “someone who wants to see you happy. Raven, you don’t need to fear him anymore…” then her smiled slowly turn into a frown, “but you are in danger.”

“Danger? Tell me-”

“I’m running out of time, listen to me carefully. Your friends will need you, when that time comes, call for our Great Mother and she will bestow upon you her blessing.”

Then a gust a wind started to pick up around Raven, her vision started to blur as the woman in front of her started to disappear. “Wait! Is this the Wayne’s, are they in danger because of me? Who are you?!”

“Raven, you hold a light so strong, a light of healing. You will light the darkness surrounding those now dear to you.”

With that Raven woke from her sleep, she clutched her chest as her whole body shivered. Raven scanned her room; nothing was out the norm, through her large bedroom window a full moon shined brilliantly casting away any shadows in her room. Next to her bed was the wooden perch, Sombra slept on. It had only been a dream, she thought to herself. She laid there, fully wide awake, reflecting what her dream could had meant and who could that womanbeen? She seems to know Raven well, but the young girl could never recollect, where she might have ever seen her.

Needing some time to calm herself, Raven stepped out of her bedroom put on her night gown and a silk cover up. She went downstairs to the castle’s kitchen and make herself a cup of tea. She assumed it was a little midnight as the full moon looked to have travel half the night sky. Though now the castle was always illuminated by candlelight. Raven arrived and busy herself to start the fire going underneath the stove top and placed a filled kettle over the flame. Once the water started to boil, she grabbed a tea pot, poured some loose dried lemon grass and hot water. As she waited while her tea seeped, Raven went on a hunt to find a teacup. As she hunted for a cup, Raven hadn’t noticed she wasn’t alone in the kitchen.

“What are you doing up?”

Startled Raven jumped and bumped her head under a cupboard. She hissed at the sudden pain and turn her face to snare at Damian as he stood by the doorway with his arms crossed. “Oh, it rude to sneak up on people!” She turned around and continue to look for the damn cup. “I couldn’t sleep… what are you doing up?”

“I’m always up at this hour.”

“Doing what?”

“Reminiscing” Damian came up from behind her and opened up a cabinet, just to her right; revealing three small shelves filled with assorted and expensive china teacups. “and looking over… somethingthat was left to me.”

“Oh…” Raven said nonchalantly as she grabbed one blue cup and then gestured toward him, “would you like me to pour you a cup?”

Damian gave her a small shrug, she walked around him and poured him some tea. She placed it the kitchen’s island counter, taking a seat and sipping her tea. She felt the drink warm and sooth her soul, making her forget the nightmare she had that had cause her to be awoken. Damian went ahead and sat across from her. He took the china cup and held it by the tips of his claws, careful not to break it. After taking a sip, he sighed, “you’re not going to ask what it is?”

Damian actually looked smug, like he wanted to rub whatever he had in her face. Raven placed her cup down as gently as she could, clasping her hand together, “I cannot believe you perceive me as some nosy girl-”

“You wandered the castle when I told you not to, you wentoutsidedespite me telling you not to go out-”

“You orderedme,” Raven pointed a finger at him, “I don’t do good being ordered around.”

“Touché… something seems to be bothering you. I want you to know you can speak to me.”

Should she tell him? Raven hadn’t had time to reflect on her dream, everything was coming back to her in vague pieces. Danger. That was what she had dreamt, she had felt she was in trouble and somehow her dream made the illusion of someone warning her to keep her eyes open. “I had this dream… well a nightmare of my old home.” That was the half-truth.

Damian clasped his hand together and leaned in closer, “you never once spoke about your home, or where you were headed when you… came to the castle. Did something happen to your homeland?”

“I was exiled.”

~~~~

Damian sat there as Raven told him her story.

“I am the daughter of a demon who governs lands cast in shadows and bloody rivers. Lord Trigon, who stands above all demons and dark magic wielders in all the realms. I was to be his successor, but I wasn’t what he hoped for. The part of me that doesn’t wished to harm others, cause destruction or how my father put it ‘kindhearted’, impeded me to ever fall to my demon side. My father believed my mother’s good nature was the caused for this. He had no use for me, proclaimed one of my lesser but more demon-like siblings would take his reign. So, without as much a goodbye he made me leave his lands. Good riddance, I never once turned back, the minute I stepped out of his forsaken lands, I felt free and alive.”

“Where were you planning to head off to?”

“My mother’s homeland. I never got to meet her; my father killed her when I was very young so I have no memory of her. I found an old journal she kept and there she described her home to be filled with light, a place where anyone could be accepted no matter who they are. My only problem is, she never once wrote the name of her home, so I was traveling blindly. I ask any village I passed through… and after receiving directions from this old woman… I ended up here.”

Damian felt a sharp pain in his chest as he continued to listen to her tale. Raven was heading towards a place she could be accepted and loved. She was heading where she could find a place to call home. Her home. Damian fought tears wanting to escape, he turned his head and looked away as he could feel his heart want to shatter, realizing he could never bring any good. He was a cursed beast, and the curse was designed to darken any light around him.

Here he had this brilliant and kind woman, who could had turned against him at any moment. Instead she brought him warmth and happiness he never believed he needed. What did he do in return? Take away her freedom, rob her of making her own choices. Why did he believe he could give her all the luxuries left in his castle to make her want to stay?

Damian needed to do something right for her, he needed to amend his wrongs and let her know she could maybe find peace here, with him.Just then an idea popped in his head. Damian allowed a small smile to grace his lips.

“Come. I would like to show you something.”

Damian extended his arm out for Raven to take. She timidly reaches for his paw, once she held him, very effortlessly he lifted her and guided the girl outside the kitchen. Keeping silent, Damian lead Raven through corridors, until they reach an open door near the entrance to one of his private and personal chambers. The opening lead to a spiral of stair wells that lead to a tower, Damian would spend much of time. Once the reach the top, it led into a grand torn down room. It was dusty, the walls were covered in spiderwebs, and in the far side of the space was an opening to a balcony.

They walked silently into the room and Damian nodded to Raven, signaling he was allowing her to inspect the room. “This was my own private study; I would come here to train or be away from my family.” He continues to watch her wonder around the large room and stopped as she gazes towards up a shredded portrait, one he destroyed of himself. “It’s the one place in the castle my siblings aren’t allowed to come. Excuse me for the mess, I find solace here since the curse was place. I wanted to show you this.”

Damian points towards a small round table near the exit to the balcony. There in the center of the table, a centerpiece was covered by a thin gray rag. Damian pulled it away, revealing a green rose, though it color was unusually dark. Raven gasp as she noticed the rose was covered by a glass covering and floated above the table’s surface, keeping perfectly still. Though instead of keeping upright, its rosebud was tilted to the side, almost as if it was wilting.

“It’s floating?” She asked.

“There was a rose garden my father had planted, a token for my mother it was his way he proposed to her. Green for her eyes. When she passed away, I took over the care for the roses, my way of keeping her memory alive and one of my closest treasures. When the witch cast the curse and she transformed me, she said she would take everything I held dear would be gone. My mother’s rose garden was burned to the ground, all the beautiful, fully bloomed rosebuds were destroyed. All but one.” Damian gestured towards the single last rose from his garden.

“It’s enchanted?” Raven continue to ponder as she viewed the mysterious flower from all angles.

“That is what I believe as well, it once shined and sparkled. Over the years it’s light simply started to dim, which is why it looks dead. Perhaps it’s was the witch’s way of saying that this curse will never be lifted, but I personally wish to see that some good could come out this.”

“I happen to imagine you view the world differently, correct? Trust me, coming from a line of demons give you that insight… may I?” Raven gestured towards the rose and Damian simply gave her a soft nod. He watched as she carefully removed the glass covering and placed it next to the rose. Raven slowly kept her placed her hands over it, not daring to touch it. She continues to move her hands all around almost as if she could really touch it and then the most marvelous thing happen.

Light. The green rose suddenly emitted a bright glow and burst with life again. The wilting rosebud soon rose itself upright, blooming and slowly spinning in Raven’s hands. Small specks to what appeared to be the rose’s pollen, erupted resulting it looking like the rose was emitting green sparkles.

Damian took a few steps back as he watched his room be filled with this mysterious light and gazed upon the girl holding it. She has a light to share, Damian thought as the rose continued to shine and spun. Damian frowned and lowered his gaze as he knew what he had to do, even if he didn’t want it to happen.

Raven gasped softly and smiled, “Damian, do you see this? It’s beautiful, how do you think this happened-”

“Go.” Damian said rather harshly as he came between Raven and the rose, moving her hands away and covering the enchanted rose once again.

Raven turned to face him with her brows knitted together, she was about to speak when Damian interrupted her, “You are no longer my prisoner, you can go and find your mother’s land.”

“But I-”

Damian then turned his back towards her, his whole form was able to shield the rose’s glow, dimming the room back to the darkness he had become use to. He didn’t want to hear what she had to say, he fears if he did than he would never let her leave. Very hard he held back the tears and kept his voice stern, not letting himself brake before her. “Didn’t you hear me? I said go!” No, I want you to stay. “Go!” Please stay with me. “I don’t want you here! Get out of my sight!

Damian slightly glanced from the side; Raven was still there awestruck by the sudden change of his behavior no doubt. He growled, then turned his whole body, looming over the poor girl. Damian then let out a great and terrifying roared as the castle tremble beneath him. “GET OUT!” He slashed at an old chair next to him, making Raven back away towards a wall.

“Damian, what’s happening?” Raven said in a mere frightened whisper, her voice wanting to crack.

“Get out, I say! You have no business here; I don’t want you in my castle anymore!”

“Please stop.” Raven painfully begged, which only aggravated Damian even more.

Damian snarled, he could feel his eyes swell up with tears wanting to cascade, with a painful heart he cried out another terrifying roar, “GET OUT!”

With that Raven ran towards the door, her steps fading as she sprinted the stairs. In the distance he could hear her pet raven, Sombra squawked, the main castle’s doors opening and banging at their sudden opening. Damian walked to the tower’s balcony seeing Raven wrapped in an old worn out cloak, with Sombra flying at her side, fleeing from his castle never looking back and disappearing in the forest. Not being able to contain the pain in his chest, Damian slump down and let all the sorrows lodged in his heart out.

“Damian.”The young cursed prince looked up and saw his older brother Dick floating towards him. “What happened? Why did she leave? What did you do?”

“I let her go,” Damian said meekly as he stared down to the ground.

Flabbergasted, Dick raised his hands towards his younger brother.“Why?”

Taking one final look at the illuminated green enchanted rose, Damian gave a wearily stare towards his half-brother, who knew more about love than him. “Because I love her.”

#damirae week 2021 #day 5 #nightmares #damirae #damirae week #damiraefic #Damian Wayne #raven roth #raven and damian #damian and raven #Beauty and the Beast AU

43 notes · View notes

ladydorian05 · 3 years

Text

Dangerous love - Javier Peña x Gn!reader

Okay, I finished it, finally!!! I don't have a lot to say about this except that it all began with a few lines provided by my brain in the middle of the night and then this happened.

A huge thank you to @din-damn-djarin she helped me so much editing this thing and with the ending (many parts of the ending were written by her).

Hope you guys enjoy it!!!

Dangerous love

Pairing: Javier Peña x gn!reader

Summary: With Steve on vacation, it's up to Javier and you to check upon the new lead; unexpectedly the stakeout goes to shit and some surprising things happen after you jump at the first opportunity to endanger yourself. (I still don't know how to write this thing and I'll probably never learn.)

Warnings: Bullets, minor injuries, mentions of blood, what else, Javier’s potty mouth but with restraint, maybe a little of out of character behaviour at the end, no time line, fictional events. thoughts in italics. Spanish translations of long sentences can be found in ( ). And I think that’s it.

Word count: 5K and then some.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damn you Murphy, Why did you have to ask for vacation days right before we got a lead. Javier thought as he tried to get comfortable in his seat behind the wheel, with Steve out of the picture, he was left to carry out this stakeout alone, alone with you. Inside the close quarters of his car.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like you, far from it actually. He just didn’t want to fuck things up with you now that he was finally able to put a name to the way he felt whenever he was around you. From the way his heart rate increased in your presence, to how much his thoughts revolved around you. Hell, he even stopped fucking around with his informants for the simple fact that none of them were you.

There was no way he was going to tell you. He couldn’t, your jobs were too dangerous. The slightest mistake could cost either of you your lives and the last thing he wanted was to put you in more danger than you were already in, even if he knew you could take care of yourself. Besides, he didn’t deserve someone as wonderful as you.

“Okay, I got the snacks and here’s your coffee.” You said opening the door of the passenger side, taking him out of his thoughts. It was some kind of tradition between the three of you, getting snacks to make sitting inside a car for hours on end, waiting for something to happen, a little more bearable,”Any sign of our guy?”

He thanked you, taking the paper cup from your hand “And no, no sign of him or any of his associates.” he sighed before taking a sip from his coffee.

“Damn it, it’s close to midnight, either they appear in the next 3 hours or we’ll be stuck in here for another day.” You complained, leaving the bag with the snacks between you two. You were tired, even if you liked the extra alone time with Javier it was hard to enjoy it when both of you were sleep deprived, more than usual, and cramped inside his car for the second day in a row.

The lead was solid, the problem was they needed evidence that the house they were watching actually belonged to the guy you were after, once you got it you could take the information to Carrillo and mobilize resources to take him in.

“Five says that we won’t get anything tonight either.” Javier says, taking a bag of chips for himself.

“Five what? Bucks?” You see him nod while stuffing his mouth with a handful of potato chips. You contemplate his profile for a moment before answering his bet, “Alright, I’m in. I have a good feeling about tonight.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, it's been quiet.”

“That’s mainly because Murphy’s not here.” You both share a laugh at your partner's expense. It was no secret that out of the three of you Steve was the most approachable. Javier was the known asshole of the embassy, you always tried to keep your guard up, what with being the new one, and Steve was just a ‘by the book’ kind of guy, even if being after Escobar made him bend some rules lately.

When you were first transferred to Colombia you were surprised that you actually got along just fine with both of your partners. You were the newbie, but they didn’t belittle you or underestimate you like you expected them to. However, you certainly never expected to end up falling for one of them.

As the months passed Javi became more than just your partner or friend, he became your confidant, you knew you could always talk to him. While he wasn’t the most approachable person around the embassy, you found out he actually had a soft side. He was reliable, hard working, with a dry sense of humor, a ‘no bullshit’ attitude that called to you, and as much as he wanted to hide it, he cared deeply, even for things that were out of his control. The fact he was so fucking handsome didn’t hurt either.

You didn’t fall for him overnight, it was a steady, slow kind of change. It took sleepless nights pouring over documents, each taking turns getting more coffee to keep you both going; late night conversations and laughs over strong alcohol to chase the stress from work away; having occasional dinner nights with him at his apartment or yours on those nights when the feeling of being alone in a different country fighting a never ending war gets unbearable.

It wasn’t sudden, but it still surprised you when you realised your feelings for the DEA’s resident Cassanova were deeper than you thought. That was another thing that worried you, it was no secret where or rather from whom he tends to get information about the narcos you were chasing after. Even if he’s recently been more discreet about it.

“Heads up, we’ve got movement.” Javier brings you out of your thoughts, tossing the bag of chips back into the bag of snacks you brought. “Seems like you’ll be getting those five bucks after all.”

“Told you I had a hunch.” Both of you watch as a van parks in front of the house you’ve been watching, several men get out of the vehicle. You recognise a couple of them from the list of known people working for Escobar, most of them were foot soldiers.

You reached inside the glove compartment for the camera, hoping to get a few good pictures before they disappeared inside the house. This could be the missing link you needed to get to the guy that lived there.

“Hold on, don’t finish the film just yet,” Javi’s words give you pause as you start rewinding the camera to take another photograph, “another car’s pulling up.”

“Anyone we know?” You ask squinting to see who comes out of the other car parked away from the street lights lining the road.

“Fuck me...yeah, from the Cali cartel.” He answers, rubbing his chin with a hand.

“Shit, that can’t be good.” You lowered the camera. The change in the atmosphere around you was instant the moment both of you noticed the persons inside the other car were readying their guns.

“You have your gun with you?” Javi asks, reaching behind him for his own weapon.

“Never leave the house without it.”

“Good. When all hell breaks loose, and it will, I want you to find cover before you do anything else, got it?” You hear the click of the safety from Javi’s gun as you reach for the handle of your door; you can sense the familiar feeling of adrenaline as you ready yourself for what’s to come.

“Yeah, you better do the same.” You don’t get a response from him. In a matter of seconds, the once quiet street turns into a war zone. Gun in hand, you run for cover, ending up behind the wall of a house at the entrance of an alley.

You take a moment to breath and try to pinpoint Javier’s location. You see him poking his head from behind a wall on the opposite side of the street. You sigh, relieved to see that he got himself behind cover in time.

You can’t really do anything. It’s just you and Javier out here, you lacked both the numbers and the firepower. Minutes that felt like hours passed. You take a look at the shooting happening a few meters from your position before hiding again in the dark of the alley as three more cars arrived on the site. One of them coming up from the street you were in, you prayed that they didn’t notice either of you. It was clear that both sides had called for backup.

Fuck, now bullets were flying towards this side as well, it wouldn’t take long for them to start looking for a more solid cover than their cars. You see Javi come to the same realisation as he sends you a worried glance when your eyes meet. You needed back up too.

Neither of you expected something like this to happen, it was just a stakeout; you were horribly unprepared with no vest and only so many bullets. The moment they noticed either of you it was over. There was only one choice, you needed to call Carillo.

There was a phone inside the car. If you were fast enough you could dive inside the back seats of the car and grab the phone, you were certain Carrllo would still be in his office, he never left early. It would take him little to no time to round up a team and get to your position as fast as possible.

You turned to look at Javier after formulating the quick plan in your head and explained it as best as you could with your hands, asking him to cover your back. You watch him shake his head, gesturing with both hands for you to stay put. You know if you do as he wants they’ll find you sooner or later; with your plan, if everything went well, at least you both stood a chance of getting out of this alive and there was even the possibility of taking some of them into custody.

You put the safety of your gun back on and tuck it into the back of your pants for the moment. While looking at Javier straight in the eyes you slowly shake your head, watching as he spits out a curse you’re too far away to hear before diving out of your cover to get to the car.

Javier knew the situation would escalate badly for the two of you if they noticed your presence there, he was just holding onto the hope that they would be too engrossed in trying to kill each other for that to happen. He turned his attention away from the wall in front of him to check up on you, only to see the determined expression on your face. He’s seen that one before, you always looked like that before doing something brave, yet incredibly stupid that would no doubt end up endangering you.

What the hell were you thinking!? Javier understood what you were trying to say with your hands, your plan was insane. Yes, having backup would be really helpful, life saving even; but risking your life like that? No, he wouldn’t let you. He answered by very clearly telling you to stay where you were.

He swears his heart leapt out of his chest the moment you disregarded his instruction to stay put, tucking your gun in your pants before breaking into a run for the car. FUCK!

You left him with no choice but to do as you asked, there was no way in hell he was going to leave you even more open than you already were. Hopefully, with all the chaos going around, they wouldn’t notice you or where the bullets from his gun were coming from.

He tried to keep an eye on you while also paying attention to the altercation. The car wasn’t that far from your previous position, but considering the stray bullets raining all round, it was too damn dangerous. He was filing away in his head all the things he would say to you if- no, ONCE both of you were out of this mess. He wouldn’t let himself think of any other outcome, you were going to be fine and you would get out of this, both of you.

What was in reality a few seconds, felt like an eternity to him. You running alone, unprotected, straight into a firefight was a scene he’s only seen in his nightmares, the fact that this was really happening was worse than he had ever imagined.

He stopped breathing for a moment when he saw you stumble a little from the corner of his eye, but when he turned his full attention towards you, you weren’t there and the backdoor of the car was open. He sighed in relief, you made it.

Carrillo got there with backup in record time and these guys were still at it, they had the worst aim he had ever seen, it was laughable that the shooting lasted this long, but damn he was glad to see Carrillo and his men arriving. They blocked the escape routes, effectively cornering them and made quick work of subduing and cuffing any survivors.

He made his way towards you as soon as he was sure he wouldn’t get a bullet for stepping out from his cover, after all he would be of no use to you dead, but Carrillo noticed him first and stopped him halfway there.

You could hear the moment the backup arrived from your place on the floor of the back of the car. You were tired and probably in need of medical attention. You hadn’t felt the pain initially, too preoccupied with your madrun to get to the car and filled with adrenaline to notice. It wasn’t until things had quietened down significantly and the adrenaline began to seep from your body that you had time to assess your injuries and felt the searing hot pain blossoming in your arm and thigh. You weren’t sure if the bullets were still in there, if you had been hit anywhere else and just hadn’t felt the pain yet or how bad the bleeding was.

Slowly, you began to move in order to get out of the car. Hissing in pain when you had to use your leg to crawl to the opposite door, you figured it would be easier to keep moving forward and get out from that side than try to backtrack towards the one you used to get in.

The sudden movement of the door opening caught everyone who was close by off guard, some of the men actually pointed their guns at you.

“Whoa! Easy there, I’m friend no foe.” Scanning the area you spotted Javier with Carrillo, their attention focused on you, it seemed like they had been talking before you made your presence known. Javier walked towards you as the Colonel ordered his men to lower their weapons. “Hey, a little help please?”

He offered you his hand to help you get out of the vehicle. “Easy there, are you hurt?” He looked you up and down searching for injuries and sure enough, he found them, “Fuck, you’re bleeding. Coronel, pida una ambulancia!” After telling the colonel to call for an ambulance he gently guided you away from the bullet hole ridden car to sit on the flatbed of one of the team’s trucks.

Javier was uncharacteristically quiet considering the move you pulled off, you were expecting the scolding of your life, but he said nothing. He just hovered around you as the paramedics cleaned and treated your wounds, thankfully they weren’t life threatening, and gave one word answers when they asked him any kind of questions to find out if he was also injured. It was unsettling.

Anger you could deal with, you’ve done so on multiple occasions already used to his fiery personality, but this cold shoulder treatment...the only times he had ever acted like this had been when things got really bad or when he felt responsible for losing someone on the job. He would often shut himself out in situations like that, but even then you were always able to get through to him and coax him into talking to you.

Carrillo approached you once the paramedics’ job was done. “Mis hombres se encargaran de los malparidos. Yo los llevo de regreso a la base, necesitaran otro carro para ir a casa.” (My men will take care of the sons of bitches. I’ll take you back to base, you’ll need another car to get home.)

“Gracias por su ayuda Coronel.” You thanked him for the help, seeing as Javier still refused to speak.

“Al contrario, gracias a ti y tu llamada ahora tenemos arrestados no sólo a colaboradores de Escobar, sino también miembros del cartel de Cali.” (On the contrary, thanks to you and your call, we now have arrested not only Escobar’s collaborators, but also members from the Cali cartel.)

Javier went to retrieve any personal belongings from the car before following Carillo back to his truck. The ride back to base didn’t change anything, the three of you travelling in tense silence since Javier still refused to speak. It was a good thing the Colonel was never really a talkative man to begin with otherwise you’re sure he would have felt insulted by Javi’s current mood.

Once back at base, Javier made quick work of the paperwork needed to take a provisional car while the one previously assigned to him was towed away and replaced. You decided to put his odd behavior down to the stress of the night's events, thinking maybe that was what had him acting like this and hoping that maybe he would relax on the way home.

No such luck.

The car ride was infernally quiet and Javier’s mood only seemed to worsen by the minute, you could see his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. He pulled up in the building’s garage, killing the engine without so much as turning his head in your direction. You couldn’t take it anymore, the silence was suffocating you.

“Hey, I got a new bottle of whiskey if you wanna grab a drink?” The only answer you got was the sound of the door slamming shut behind him as he got out of the car. At first you thought that was a no, but when you got out he was standing by the car’s trunk waiting for you.

You made your way through the building to the door of your apartment; the slight limp from the wound on your thigh slowing you down somewhat. It wasn’t serious, the bullet only grazed the outer side of it. Your arm didn’t have the same luck; still, it was nothing time, a few stitches and bandages couldn’t fix, but it still hurt like hell, you’ll be sure to take some pain meds before going to bed. Javier was following behind you. If he ever decided to quit being a DEA agent, you were sure he’d be able make decent cash playing poker with the expressionless face he had going on at the moment. Well, he would as long as he wore dark sunglasses, otherwise his expressive eyes would probably give him away.

You opened the door and turned on the lights of the living room. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll get the bottle and the glasses.” You tell him as you toe off your shoes, leaving them in the entrance. You hear the door close and before you can make your way to the kitchen his hand darts up to grab the wrist of your uninjured arm.

“Javier? Wha-”

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Oh. So it was time for the scolding, he waited until you were alone for this, shit. Maybe you could play dumb?

“I was thinking about getting a little bit drunk before going to sleep.”

“You know what I mean. Back there, what the fuck were you thinking putting yourself in danger like that?” So, that was a no on the playing dumb thing then.

“Do you have any idea how lucky you were? You had no vest and still you ran headfirst into the open, you could’ve died!” He could feel the grip he had on his emotions slipping, all the fear, all the helplessness he felt the moment he saw you dive out into the rain of bullets rushing back to him.

“But I didn’t.” You knew he was right, it was a dangerous move, but it worked, it got you out of the tight spot. “Listen, I know it was dangerous, but it worked out.”

“So you were aware of how dangerously stupid that was and you still went ahead and did it!?” He let go of your wrist to pass his hand through his hair in exasperation,“To top it off, this isn’t even the first time you’ve pulled something like this, I don’t have enough fingers on my hands to count how many times your dumb luck has saved your ass.”

“Well excuse me for saving our asses back there!” You snap, your composure which you had managed to keep up until this point wavering, “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“You think I don’t know about your little endeavours with the other side of this war?” How dare he act as if he’s never put himself in danger, as if he wasn’t playing with fire himself, “How’s Don Berna? When’s your next coffee date?”

His eyes widened in horror and all the blood drained from his face. Any other day this kind of reaction from him would’ve made you laugh, but right now it only gave you a strange sense of satisfaction.

“How do you know about that?” His eyes fixed on yours, both of you locked in a staring match until you’re silent for a little too long and he speaks again, demanding an answer, “Huh? Answer me. How. Do. You. Know. That?”

“I saw you with him.”

“You followed me!? You fucking followed me!?”

“Yes, I did! What did you want me to do!? We were stuck, stressed as fuck, with no new leads and you were acting strange! I was worried!”

“That didn’t give you the right to go and fucking follow me! And that’s beyond the point, that’s different!” Your once tense, but relatively controlled, conversation was now a shouting match. A match that would most likely end with no winner and your friendship on the line, but you’ll be damned if you backed down from this.

“How!? How is it different!? I run once or twice towards some bullets to save our asses and you get to lecture me about it, but I can’t bring up the fact you’re meeting with a sicario, behind both of your partners backs, in your free time!?”

“We’re not talking about me!”

“OH! So YOU can make stupid and dangerous decisions, but I can’t!? And YOU can call ME out on them, but I can’t call YOU out on YOURS!?” Every time you stressed a word you made sure to poke him hard in the chest with your index finger as if you really needed to emphasise your point anymore.

He let out a heavy sigh trying to cool down a little. You had moved at some point during the heat of the argument, both of you trying to get into each other's faces as you yelled back and forth and you were so close to him now that the puff of air lightly ruffled your eyelashes. Deep down he knew you were right, but the night events still hung heavy in his mind. For a moment, he swore you weren’t going to make it, he should’ve known better- should have trusted you, but that didn’t mean he would support every single insane plan you came up with.

“I just-”

“You just what!?” You interrupted him. He was beyond frustrated with this situation. He just had to go and open his fucking mouth. He could have just stayed silent, shared that whiskey with you and drink until he forgot all about this whole stupid situation and then gone to bed.

“I just want you to understand-”

“Understand what!?”

“Goddamnit.” he muttered under his breath.

“Understand what Javier!? Maybe if you stopped stalling and just said what you want to say I would!”

“That I fucking love you!” Shit. He drags the palm of his hand over his face as he contemplates his options, it’s too late to go back now he decides, “I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you!”

“Well, I love you too!”

The stunned silence that followed the unexpected confessions was deafening. Neither of you dared to move from your positions, until you saw his eyes flicker from yours to your lips and his tongue poked out to lick his bottom lip.

You don’t know who moved first, but at that point you don’t care. Your lips came together with his in a passionate kiss, all thoughts of your argument forgotten for the moment. You could only think about how good it felt to finally kiss him, you always believed that he would be a good kisser, but this was beyond anything you ever imagined, all your previous fantasies of what kissing your partner would be like fell in comparison to the real deal.

It wasn’t perfect; no, nothing in real life is ever perfect, but at the same time it was everything and more. There was no fight for dominance, it was just a coming together of two people, two people trying to convey with actions what has never been said with words. Months of pent up feelings finally finding release.

His arms were around you, one hand on your lower back and the other behind your head, pulling you ever closer while your own hands held the back of his head, fingers losing themselves between his short locks of hair. You were so drunk on him, you never wanted to stop, unfortunately, oxygen was a necessity. Slowly, you pulled apart from each other, leaving little pecks on his lips as you went.

“Fuck, we’re a mess.” He said, breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against yours.

“Did you mean it?” You ask, finally finding your voice after taking a few deep breaths.

“Every word.” He answered, pulling you into another much slower kiss.

“Good.” You said against his lips the next time you parted. “Because I do too.” You were going to go in for another kiss, but you felt the pull of the stitches on your arm when you tried to bring his head closer, making you flinch in pain.

“You okay?” He asked, noticing the sudden movement.

“Yeah, just...the stitches are bothering me.” You said with a grimace.

“Fuck. I forgot about them.” He slowly detangled himself from you as not to hurt you further. “Let’s sit down on the couch, there’s more light over there, let’s make sure you didn’t reopen the wound.”

“It’s alright, just a bit sore, that’s all.” You gingerly touched the bandage covering the stitches. He called your name, to get your attention back.

“Please. If only for my peace of mind.” With a sigh, you agreed. He left his hand on your lower back, gently guiding you to your couch. He began to remove the tape that kept the gauze in place over the stitches as carefully as he could manage. “Thank you, your plan really did save us.” You stared at him in surprise, you weren't expecting that. “But you really need to be more careful. Do you have any idea how I felt when you just ran out?”

You shook your head.

“I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest, I thought I was going to have a heart attack.”

“You’re not THAT old.”

“Excuse you, I’m not old at all.” His eyebrows raise at your words and there’s a look of mock offense written across his features.

“That’s not what your cracking back says.”

“If we didn’t spend so much time behind a desk my back wouldn’t sound like fireworks going off every time I stretch.” Your eyes found each other for a moment before both of you ended up laughing. “No, but seriously. I don’t know What I would’ve done if anything had happened to you. Please, don’t risk yourself like that, don’t go where I can’t follow.”

“You know I can’t promise something like that...but I’ll try.”

“I can work with that.” He focused back on removing the tape without further upsetting the wound.

“I’ll be more careful, but in return, I want you to do everything you can to cut all ties with Don Berna. I don’t care how much information he gave you or keeps giving you, it’s not worth it if you’re going to end up in the middle of both sides.”

He took a deep breath before letting the air out. “I am trying, but it’s a delicate subject, I need to watch my steps. I reached out to him on a whim, and even if I got some good stuff from him, I’m not stupid, sooner or later he’ll cash in the favor.”

“Be careful, please.” He nodded.

Once the tape was out of the way, he looked at your stitches without touching the skin around them, not wanting to cause any kind of infection, once he saw that none of them needed to be redone, he covered them again.

“Alright, all’s good, let’s get you to bed.” Your eyes widened at his words.

“Javier, not today, I’m tired and my leg hurts and-” You’re cut off by his chuckle.

“To sleep. Jesus, get your head out of the gutter. Go get ready, I’ll bring you some pain killers and a glass of water. Whiskey’s not going anywhere, we can have it another day, you need to rest.”

When he came into your room you were already in your pajamas, taking your pants off had been tricky but you managed it without disturbing your wounds too much. He hands you two pills and a glass of water, you thanked him before swallowing the pills with some water. Leaving the glass on your nightstand, you make yourself comfortable in your bed.

“Well, I’ll umm...I’ll see you tomorrow.” He nods his head in your direction before turning to leave.

“Javi, wait.” You call before he reaches the door. He looks back at you over his shoulder, “Could you stay?”

His eyes widened in surprise before answering “Of course, sweetheart.” He’s quiet as he takes off his shirt, shoes, socks and moves to climb under the covers.

“Do you sleep in jeans? Isn’t that uncomfortable?” he freezes in place, one knee on the bed and one hand lifting the corner of the thin sheets covering the bed.

“No, I- I usually sleep in boxers.” he lowers his gaze to the bed, “I just don’t have any with me right now.”

There’s a moment of silence as you process his words before you burst into laughter.

“You- you mean- you’re not-” you try to talk in the middle of your laughing fit, but only manage to get a few words out.

“Yeah, I’m not wearing any underwear,” you swear he almost looks embarrassed “get over it.” he mutters.

“Sorry, I just-”you try to calm down, but can’t help the giggles that still escape your lips. “What, did you have plans for after the stakeout?” The question came out jokingly; maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to ask after what happened in your foyer, but deep down you wanted to know. You trusted him in any other way, could you also trust him completely with your heart?

“No.” He looks you in the eye and you notice that he understood the double meaning of your question. “I don’t do that anymore, for some time now. ”

“Oh.”

Once he settles, you reach over to the nightstand turning off the small lamp that sits there. You can’t see Javi in the darkness of the room, but you know there’s still something playing on his mind from the way you feel him fidget beside you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, reaching out for him across the small distance that separates the two of you. Your hand finds his shoulder and you run your fingers up and down his arm, enjoying the way he relaxes under the touch.

“It’s nothing, go to sleep.”

“Javier.” You warn, much too tired to argue but determined not to sleep until you get to the bottom of whatever's bothering him.

“I’m still thinking about what happened earlier...loving you can be quite dangerous.” Javier sighs, “You know that, don’t you?”

“It’s just as dangerous as loving you.”

“What a pair we make huh?”

“We’ll figure it out.” Your voice is laced with exhaustion and you shuffle closer to him, nestling your head under his chin and wrapping an arm around his body, “We’ll be fine.”

He hums in agreement, his arm hovering over you but not quite touching.

“You can touch me you know?” You say with amusement.

“Your arm- I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. I promise.” You smile, pecking a kiss against the first patch of skin you can reach.

He lowers his arm tentatively, wrapping it around you and pulling you closer to him.

“Goodnight.” You mumble against his chest, sleep already beginning to pull you under.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He whispers into your hair, listening to the way your breathing has evened out. Sleep has never come easily to Javier, but that night for the first time in months, it does.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed) :

@oloreaa @16boyfriends-and-me @ilikechocolatemilkh @crossfitjesusinblackskinnyjeans

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javeri pena x reader #javier pena x you #narcos javier peña #narcos javier pena #javier peña #javier pena #chibi writes

83 notes · View notes

talesofstyles · 4 years

Text

Quid Pro Quo

Another lawyer!Harry. Technically six years before this piece. Enemies to lovers with plenty of angst :))) [7k]

massive thank you to @smokeinherperfume @for-fucks-sake-h and @emotionally-imbruised 🥺💛

This has got to be one of the worst weeks of your professional life.

It’s only Thursday and this past week you haven’t left your office before eleven every night. You’re currently working on nine cases, two of which require immediate action, and you’ll most likely have to go to trial for at least three of the cases because the motions to dismiss that you filed were denied. Last night alone you didn’t get a wink of sleep because you were busy preparing for a deposition this morning, which turned out to be practically useless, because your client completely ignored your advice and said everything you told them not to and basically shit the bed for you.

You know this is what you signed up for when you decided to become a lawyer at a top law firm in the City. Clifford Chance is not a joke, there’s a reason why they’re number second in the UK and you knew that long before you even started working here. There’s a common knowledge which most law students throughout the UK knows, that if you work at Clifford Chance, you don’t get to sit around. Put it this way: if you let six minutes tick away without achieving anything, you’ve wasted the firm fifty pounds. Twelve minutes: one hundred pounds. Eighteen minutes: one fifty. You do the math.

It’s not that you hate your job. On the contrary, you absolutely love your job. You know you’re good at it. You love the thrill of negotiation. You like to argue and make the best point in the room. You��re addicted to the adrenaline rush of closing a deal, and frankly, nothing satisfy you more than spotting the loopholes in a contract (with the exception of sex of course but it has really been a while and you’re practically a nun these days so it’s not even worth mentioning).

But sometimes it’s just too much. You’ve been working for fifty five hours per week, and sure, the money’s good (scratch that—the money’s great), but you don’t have a life outside of work and you’re beginning to realise that it’s one hell of a price to pay.

The truth is, you know all this nonsense is not because you hate your job, nor because you’re stretched too thin. Interestingly, you actually thrive under pressure and you know that’s one of your qualities that makes you a good lawyer. And life outside of work? Even the thought of it makes you laugh. Your work is your life. You’ve never complained about that. This bitterness inside of you that you don’t even realise exists emerged when Harry Styles waltzed into your firm three months ago. You don’t normally make a big deal about people coming into the firm, because you’re good with people and you’re friends with everyone. But the thing is, you resent him because your firm gave him a senior partner title right away, one that you’ve been busting your arse for by working about two hundred hours per month minimum for the past year, just because he came from your firm’s rival which happens to be the number one law firm in the UK. And on top of that, he didn’t come empty handed. He brought five big clients with him when he came knocking on your firm’s door, and that sort of sealed the deal for your managing partner to choose him instead of you to be promoted to senior partner this year.

Bloody bum licker.

Your frustrated groan bounces off the thin walls of your two bedroom flat that you shared with your best friend and you accidentally slam the door a little too harsh. Luckily, she’s used to you coming home in such a state for the past three months, so she just turns her head to see you from where she’s sat on the couch in the living room, stifling a laugh.

“Harry Styles?” She ventures, smirking at you and you groan in annoyance as you throw your keys in the bowl.

“Harry,” you grunt. “Fucking Styles.”

Fran can’t help but laugh, and you give her a look that tells her you’d probably kill her if she keeps that up as you walk past her and straight into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine from the fridge, so she’s back trying to stifle her laughter.

“Alright,” she replies, you can hear amusement in her tone. “What did he do this time?”

“He took my case!” you snap as you plop down on the couch with a bottle of Riesling in your hand. Fran puts her laptop on the coffee table and turns to face you, sitting expectantly, waiting for the oncoming rant. “He’s just- ugh. I can’t stand him, Fran. He’s unbelievable.”

“What?” She stares at you in confusion. “How?”

“So Luke came to the office this morning-”

“Luke-”

“Don’t-” you cut her off before she can finish her sentence. “I know what you’re about to say, and yes, that Luke. So, he came to the office this morning because he’s got a problem. Basically, his company just cut a huge deal but he needs to get out of this contract because his general counsel accidentally let them slip something into the fine print.”

“Shit,” she remarks. “That is a fireable offense.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “The guy was fired on the spot. The thing is, if Luke fulfills this order, he goes out of business.”

“And if he doesn’t,” she pauses, looking at you for a second before adding another remark. “Shit, they’ll sue him for breach of contract.”

“Exactly,” you sigh. “I’ve been at it all day trying to spot loopholes in the contract to save his company.”

You really miss working together with Fran. You’ve been living together since you were both still in law school, and Fran used to work in Clifford Chance as well until ten months ago when she decided she wanted to focus on fashion law and moved to Addleshaw Goddard.

It’s not that you’re not happy for her. You’re glad she found something that she’s passionate about. It’s just you’re so used to working on cases and going to mock trials together and you can’t deny that you miss it sometimes. You just wish that she’d stayed, because you know it would be much easier to handle Harry if you’ve got your best friend with you.

“Right,” she nods. “And I’m guessing Harry came to you and he wanted in?”

“That bastard!” You scowl. “He just waltzed into my office out of the blue and was like, ‘I gather Luke Whiteacre needs to get out of something? I want in.’ I mean… who does that?! He didn’t even say hi when he walked in!”

Fran snickers at your terrible impression of Harry. She hasn’t met him yet but she knows there’s no way he talks like that. “And you’re upset because he didn’t say hi?”

“Fran!”

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” she hastily amends. “Look, maybe he’s just trying to help? He’s not taking your case, babe, believe me. You’re still on it, aren’t you?”

“Well, I am,” you let out another sigh.

“See?” She goes on. “And even if he tries to, Luke wouldn’t let it happen. He’s been your client since forever.”

“Still. I don’t like the fact that he thought he could just walk into my office and hijack my case,” you say in exasperation. “I’m gonna kill him, Fran. I swear to god I’m gonna kill him.”

Fran burst in laughter, muttering your name in a chastising tone. “Don’t. You won’t look good in prison stripes,” she shakes her head. “Really rubs you in the wrong way, doesn’t he?”

“Absolutely,” you roll your eyes.

“Come on, babe,” she continues with a smirk. “I’ve said this before, you need to shag him. Take out all those frustrations…”

“Keep that up and I’ll put your name on my people-to-murder list next to his,” you grunt, standing up from the couch and head towards the kitchen hoping to find some treats from the snack cabinet.

Fran giggles as she takes her laptop back onto her lap and begins typing. “Let’s go out,” she suggests. “Been a while. You look like you could use a night out.”

“I can’t,” you slump against the couch with a bag of chocolate buttons. “He’s on his way here.”

“What? Harry?” She looks at you in surprise. “Why?”

“Yeah,” you shrug carelessly. “We need to work on Luke’s case.”

“Have you still got some condoms in your room?” She says teasingly. “I’ve got some just in case you need them. Just-”

The sound of the doorbell rings cuts your best friend’s teasing remark. It’s definitely Harry, and you give Fran one last death glare and Ross Geller’s version of middle finger as you get up from the couch and walk towards the front door to let him in.

“Hey,” he greets you with his usual smug smile that irritates you to no end. “Lovely flat you’ve got here.”

“We better get started,” you say dismissively as you close the door behind him before you lead him into your living room. You suddenly realise that it’s your first time seeing him not in one of his expensive suits. Not that you care enough about him to notice that. It’s just he happens to be wearing a lot of Jermyn Street suits, and you know they don’t come cheap.

This time he’s only in his crisp white button-up shirt, with the sleeves rolled up just below his elbow. His arms are full with folders that you asked him to take from the office, and as the two of you walk into your living room, you see Fran turning her head to greet him. “Hi.”

“Hey, you must be Fran,” he smiles as he strides to the couch.

“And you must be Harry,” Fran replies, before tilting her head to smirk at you. “Heard a lot about you.”

“Have you now?” Harry chuckles. “Only good thing, I hope?”

“Oh,” Fran can’t help but snort. “Only the best.”

You end up ordering Chinese because neither of you have had dinner, and Fran ends up helping both you and Harry on the case in the living room. Even with three heads brainstorming together you’re still struggling to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

It is now past midnight and you and Harry are still working on your case. Fran has gone up to her room a little over two hours ago, leaving just the two of you in your living room. Your coffee table is strewn with photocopied draft contracts, financial reports, note-pads covered in scribbles, post-its and two cups of cold coffee from four hours ago that both of you keep accidentally drinking. Take-out boxes are littering the floor, and you can barely keep your eyes open as you read through yet another file to find literally anything which could potentially help.

“I tell you what, this is ironclad,” you let out a heavy sigh as you throw the document on the coffee table in defeat. “Houdini wouldn’t even get out of this contract.”

“We need to adjourn,” Harry suggests, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Regroup tomorrow to get to the bottom of this with clear heads. I’ve got a trial at half nine but I’ll be done by noon.”

“I can’t rest before we figure this out,” you state stubbornly, pausing for a second to let out a yawn. “But you go home. I’ll let you know if I’ve got something.”

“No,” Harry shakes his head. “You have to rest. If you were to come up with something you would’ve by now.”

You feel a stab of indignation. “Are you saying that I’m not capable of getting to the bottom of this myself?”

“Fuck’s sake,” Harry says in exasperation. “How did you even come up with that? I was just saying you’re knackered, well we both are, so we’re not thinking clearly. But you know what? If you wanna keep going, that’s your decision. But I’m not going to.”

“Well, I never asked you to!” you retort defensively.

Harry rolls his eyes as he gets up from your couch, heading towards the door without saying another word and you can’t help but groan in annoyance. With Harry, you’re quite capable of going from calm to seething in 0-60, and you’re too pissed to even notice Fran stifling her giggles from the kitchen.

“Oh, yeah,” Fran appears in the living room with a glass of water in her hand, staring at you with one eyebrow arched high. “There’s no tension there at all.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, give it a rest!”

***

By two o’clock you’re already exhausted and brain dead after only three hours of sleep and non-stop work since this morning. You haven’t even had lunch yet, but even just the thought of eating already makes you nauseous because you can’t stop thinking about how crushed Luke is going to be when you tell him that he’s going out of business. Truth be told you don’t want to jump that far, but what Harry said last night keeps replaying on your mind like a broken cassette. ‘If you were to come up with something, you would have by now.’ And here you are, twenty-eight hours later, still have got nothing.

Speak of the devil.

“Where have you been?” Harry asks in a prickly tone as he walks into your office. His brows are knitted together and he looks concerned. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Honestly, a ‘hi’ would be nice.

“I’ll tell you where,” you shift your attention from your computer and look at him. “I was getting screwed by Berkeley Group and trying to figure out what to do about it.”

Harry gives you a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

“I went there with a dozen win-win offers and they shot down every single one,” you say stonily.

“Did you threaten litigation?” asked Harry, a bit superciliously.

“Harry, I threaten them with everything but the kitchen sink,” you flash him an incandescent look. “The thing is, this contract is airtight and they know it.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Harry says promptly with a glint of hope in his eyes. “And this won’t make Luke go out of business.”

“What you on about?”

“Slicing and dicing,” says Harry with a smug smile.

You flash him another incandescent look. “Are you telling me that your big brilliant idea is to split his commercial division from his retail?”

The glint of hope disappears from his eyes as he looks at you. “This is the only way out.”

“Cutting someone’s arm off is not a way out!” you practically shriek.

“It is if their life depends on it!” Harry yells in frustration, the volume of his voice matches yours and you can’t help but notice two associates stop for a second just to have a peek at you and Harry having a screaming match before they continue walking past your office.

“Look,” he begins again, and you know he’s calmed down a little because he’s not as loud as three seconds ago. “If we do this, we have a chance to get Berkeley back to the table before we cut anything off.”

“Listen to me Harry,” you venture after a pause. “I’m sorry but we’re not going back to Luke with this bullshit. Thank you for your help so far, but you’re off the case.”

“What?” Harry turns to you in disbelief.

“You heard me,” you give him a dismissive blink that makes him feel like an insect. “I’m taking back this case.”

You turn your attention back to some random document on your desk, pretending to read carefully, not daring to meet his eyes. Luckily he leaves your office without saying another word after a second or two of pause, and you slump back further on your chair as he slams your door behind him.

For the rest of the afternoon you’ve decided to keep yourself busy with your other cases, but you know deep down you won’t be able to focus on anything else before you get Luke out of the woods. You can’t let him go out of business. You just can’t. Not only because you’ve been looking after his company for years, hell you were only an associate when he first became a client, but you also saw with your own eyes how his company grew. He was only just starting his business when he came into your firm, and you witnessed it firsthand how he nurtured it into the big and successful company it is now.

On a side note, you also can’t stop thinking about what happened in your office earlier. Sure, you and Harry don’t particularly get along like a house on fire, but you didn’t have to be so rude, did you? His approach to the problem might be different than yours, but deep down you knew he was only trying to help.

So on your way to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea, you decided to stop by his office. You know you owe him an apology.

“Hi,” his door is open but you decided to knock anyway. “Mind if I come in?”

He looks up at you instantly, pushing his chair a little further away from his desk to break his attention from his computer. “Of course not, come in.”

“Look-”

You both say simultaneously, before breaking into a chuckle.

“Let me go first,” he begins with a smile, which for some reason doesn’t look smug this time and you nod. “I owe you an apology. I’m sorry. That case is yours to begin with, and I should’ve trusted you to bring it home how you see fit.”

“Well I’m sorry too,” you add hastily. “Guess I let my emotion get the best of me back there. I was rude when you were only trying to help.”

“Hey, no need to apologise to me,” he replies without flickering. “I absolutely understand.”

“It’s just,” you continue as you saunter to his desk. “Luke was my first client. Ever. The first time I went solo on a case, it was for his company. I just can’t let him down.”

“Look, we don’t know that yet,” he assures you gently. “And even if it comes to that point, it’s not your fault. If anything it’s the general counsel’s fault.”

“Holy shit-” you say suddenly. “Harry!”

“What?” he looks at you in confusion.

“The general counsel didn’t just make one mistake,” you go on as you look at Harry with glimmering hope. “He made two, he never ran the final contract by me.”

“Holy shit he didn’t,” Harry remarks. “Because he knew you’d catch any mistake. So he didn’t make a mistake…”

“No it was on purpose,” you can’t help a pleased little smile coming to your lips. “Isn’t it a coincidence that he just signed a contract to work at a subsidiary of Berkeley?”

“This is brilliant,” he replies excitedly. “You’re brilliant.”

“Say that again?” you joke.

“No, you need to get them on the phone right now,” Harry gives you a rictus smile. “And I need to find us some bloody champagne.”

***

Harry grins as he walks into your office and asks, as though you’re mid-conversation. “Have you made the call?”

“Ooh, that’s a good one,” you grin when you notice a bottle of Moët & Chandon in his hand. “Where did you get that?”

“Leftovers from the Christmas party,” he chuckles as he quickly opens it . “How’s it? What did they say?”

“Well, the contract is back exactly the way it was,” you begin, giving him a smug smile for a change. “Well, with a twenty five percent increase.”

He looks at you suspiciously, one of his eyebrows arched high. “Twenty five?”

“Fine,” you roll your eyes comically. “Forty.”

“Bloody hell,” he chuckles. “You don’t mess about, do you? Remind me to never mess with you.”

You laugh and take a sip of the champagne. “We need to celebrate this.”

“Do you wanna go out?”

“Oh no, I’ve got something better,” you smirk as you hand him a folder. “Take a look.”

Harry takes the folder promptly and begins skimming through the documents, occasionally taking sips of the champagne in between. “Aha, you need to get out of a deal.”

“Exactly,” you grin. “We need to get out of a deal I negotiated for a mobile payment app with our client’s credit card provider.”

“This is a three years deal and you’re only three months in,” Harry observes as he continues skimming through the files.

“Well, that’s what makes it fun, innit?” your grin widens.

“Oh, absolutely. This is fun,” his eyes twinkling in delight. “You don’t have any legal grounds to do it. Have you got something in mind?”

“Mhm,” you hum as you take another swig of champagne. “I think if I can find a reason to pay into a trust instead of to them directly then we can squeeze them…”

“Make them take a buyout,” Harry adds.

“Look at us finishing each other’s sentences already,” you make an elaborate gesture with your champagne flute and Harry gives you a shrill laugh.

“We’re best friends now, aren’t we?”

You retort at once. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Alright,” says Harry, his eyes still flashing with amusement. “That’s a good plan by the way. What do you want me to do?”

“I need precedents by noon.”

“You’ll have them on your desk by nine am sharp,” he smirks.

***

Harry keeps his promise.

When you arrive in your office at a little over nine, there are six folders from Harry waiting for you on your desk, which means that he didn’t only get you one or two but six precedents for the new case that you’re both working on. This is the boost of confidence that you need, because today you’re scheduled to go to the judge’s chamber and meet with the lawyer on the opposing side. Who knows, maybe this will be a quick one and the case will be over by the end of the day.

Well, that’s a nice thought. But in order for the case to be dismissed, the lawyer from the opposing side needs to show up here first and foremost. You’ve been sitting in the judge’s chamber for nearly fifteen minutes now, and he has warned you about ten times that if the other lawyer doesn’t show up, he would have to deny your motion to dismiss.

“Hello, sorry I’m late,” a voice pipes in from the door, and when you turn around, you see a woman with a smug smile that reminds you of Harry’s, clad in L.K. Bennett from head to toe walks into the room. She offers you a hand before she sits down, and you politely reach out yours for a handshake. “Camille Sweetings, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Have you now?” you give her a mocking smile as you begin confidently. “Well, you haven’t lived up to your obligations and according to these six precedents, we have the right to nullify this entire deal right now.”

You really don’t like the look on her face. Any other lawyers would at least be slightly ticked to hear that, but she still has the same smug smile across her face. “You don’t have the right to do anything, you’re in violation of your contract.”

“Paying into a trust isn’t a violation,” you frown.

“No,” she agrees. “But meeting with the competition is.”

You can’t see your own face, but if you do, you’re most likely to look like you’ve just seen a ghost. How did she even know that? You try to remain calm and look at the judge. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

“No,” she’s smiling as she says the word. “You just didn’t know I’d find out about it. Your Honour, I’ve got a confirmation that YN YLN has engaged in a pattern of dirty tricks, unethical behaviour and borderline illegal activity. All in the name of ‘representing’ her clients.”

Your rage simmers up into a froth. “If you’re gonna say all that about me, you better damn well be able to back it up.”

You want nothing more than to rip off the smirk across her face as she hands two files to the judge. “Here are two of Ms YLN's old cases. There you’ll find settlements withheld and meetings with the competition.”

“How the hell did you get these?!” you exclaim indignantly. “Your Honour, my past cases have no relevance here.”

“No, but your answers to my question do,” he says sternly. “Did you or did you not meet with the competition last week?”

***

You stride back into your office furiously. Who the hell was that woman? You didn’t even know her yet she apparently knew a damn lot about you. Nobody even knew you had a meeting with the competition last week, so there has got to be something bigger going on yet you just can’t seem to figure that out.

You begin to realise maybe this whole case isn’t a good idea and you silently promise yourself that you will never take on anything with getting out of contracts or deals or basically everything that Harry is good at ever again. This isn’t your thing, this is Harry’s. Your thing is everything that has everything to do with mergers, acquisitions, all that, just like Fran’s thing is everything with fashion law. This whole thing is really stressing you out and you plan to speak to Harry when you get the chance later today to just hand him the case.

Speak of the devil.

“Hey! How was the hearing?” he sounds jovial as he walks into your office with a bright smile. “Should I get another bottle of champagne for tonight? Of course when I say ‘get’ I meant ‘steal’ from downstairs.”

“The judge bit my head off,” you scoff.

He flashes you a quizzical look. “What? Why?”

“The other lawyer found some dirt about me,” you begin, already seething as you picture her face with that bloody smug smile in your head. “She found two of my old cases and said really nasty things about me to the judge. And before you say anything, no, I didn’t do anything illegal. But I’ve got to admit it was unethical.”

“Shit,” he looks at you, concerned. “Look, there’s no way they could’ve found all those shit just like that.”

“That’s what I’m thinking about,” you reply at once. “There’s got to be something bigger going on. This is a desperate move, I tell you.”

“I agree,” he nods. “It sounds shady, and in my experience the other side only does something like this when they’ve already done something even shadier.”

You look at him with a glint of hope. “So you also think they’re hiding something?”

“Yeah,” he sounds so sure. “And don’t worry, we’re gonna find it.”

“Good,” you remark. “Because there’s no way in hell I’m gonna let bloody Camille Sweetings get the better of me.”

“Wait, who?” this time, it’s Harry who looks like he has just seen a ghost. The colours have drained from his face, and you look at him in confusion.

“Camille Sweetings,” you repeat yourself, wrinkling your nose in disgust because you hate the sound of her name rolling out of your lips. “Why? Do you know her?”

“Have they put my name on this case?” he ignores your questions.

“Yeah, yesterday,” you frown. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

He takes a deep breath before he begins, looking at you in the eyes. “She and I, well, uh, we were together for a while.”

“What?!” you can’t hide your dismay. “Fucking hell, Harry. As if this isn’t complicated enough!”

You lapse into silence for a few seconds, neither of you knowing what to say.

“I think this is personal,” he ventures after the pause. “Look, if you want me off the case now, I completely understand. I won’t fight you. But I hope you don’t because you need help now more than ever.”

“Just,” you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Please get out of my office.”

***

By nine pm you’ve already come up with three win-win offers, yet Camille bloody Sweetings gives you a shrill laugh every time and shoots down every single one. Honestly, she is the female version of Harry. They make a great couple, those two shady bastards. They should’ve gotten married and make a couple of shady children.

“Sod off, Harry,” you say without even moving your head from looking at your computer, but you know he’s standing in front of your office, probably waiting for the right time to come in. Honestly, he might be a brilliant lawyer but he sucks big time at a simple game of hide and seek. Behind the wall? That’s a toddler-level hiding spot.

“No,” he insists, finally walking towards your desk. “I wanna help.”

“I told you I don’t need your help,” you give him a dismissive blink that makes him feel like an insect.

He says your name sternly, making you look in his direction and finally meets his eyes. “Believe me, you do. You think I’m shady? That bloody snake is ten times worse. You need help, and I don’t care what you say because I’ve just checked and my name is still on the attorneys listed.”

“Fine,” you concede. “Take a look at this. This is as best as she could get yet she bloody refused them all.”

Harry takes the files from your hand and quickly skims through the documents, muttering one or two profanities under his breath before he puts them back on your desk. “You know what, we’re going out tonight.”

Is he joking?

“My arse is on the line here in case you haven’t realised,” you look at him in disbelief. “She pulls shit like this again, it’s gonna cost me my license.”

Your name rolls out of his lips again and he looks at you without blinking. “Come on, we need to blow off some steam. We don’t do that, we’re gonna kill each other.”

Three hours later, you feel like you’ll never be able to get out of the comfiest bar stool you’ve ever sat on. You’ve never been to Hawksmoor, but Harry swears this place is good even though it’s filled with boring bankers with their ties stuffed in suit pockets (not that Harry’s tie isn’t also stuffed in his suit pocket, but, you know, at least he’s not a banker), so you followed his lead and let him take you here.

The salvaged furniture, low lighting, comfy seating and charming staff make it an easy place to settle into. Sitting beside you is Harry with his neat whiskey, which you realise that he hasn’t finished when you’ve already had three refills of your gin and tonics. Your head is most likely going to fall off tomorrow morning, you just know it.

“Argh,” you groan. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Right now?” Harry deadpan. “Huge quantities of alcohol.”

“Sod off,” you playfully nudge his shoulder. “By the way, you’ve got more ex-girlfriends lawyers I should know about?”

Harry laughs, his eyes crinkled and shining. “I’ll send you a list.”

“Good,” you mumble against the edge of the glass, before taking another swig of your drink.

“How about you?” Harry is smirking at you, one of his eyebrows arched high. “Any lawyers you’re seeing that I should know?”

You laugh. “I don’t shit where I eat.”

“Shut up,” Harry looks at you suspiciously, still with a huge shit-eating grin. “You’re telling me you’ve never got involved with anyone at work?”

There’s silence.

“Shit,” Harry remarks. “Who was it?”

You exhale sharply before you answer. “Luke.”

Harry takes a gulp of his drink. “Well, that makes sense.”

“You don’t even know which Luke I was talking about,” you frown. “You could be wrong, you know. There are millions of Lukes.”

“Oh, of course it’s Luke Whiteacre,” he chuckles. “Didn’t go to law school for nothing, did I? But I’ve got to say, it finally makes sense.”

“Don’t say anything to anyone,” you say sternly, starting to realise that you’ve probably made a mistake of telling him. “It was a long time ago anyway.”

“So, how was he?” he’s grinning.

You can’t help but laugh. “Are we having a girl talk right now?”

“No,” he shrugs carelessly. “Just wanna know how he was.”

“You want me to go into details?” you tease, and even though he doesn’t say anything, you know he’s glad you’re not as tense as a few hours prior. “Cause I could. What do you wanna know? Stamina? Girth? Technique? I could go on…”

“Ew!”

You’re laughing so hard that you nearly fell off the bar stool if Harry didn’t quickly catch you, and you realise this is the first time your arm brushes against his, and for a second you’ve both stilled, but you ignored it because this doesn’t mean anything. You’re both drunk anyway. “Why did you break up with she-who-must-not-be-named?” you peer at him.

“We had a pregnancy scare,” he says, looking down for a second at his drink before taking another swig.

“Shit,” you gape at him. “Was she-”

“No, she wasn’t,” he shakes his head. “But it made me realise that she’s not the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, let alone actually having children with. So I called it off.”

“Sorry,” you can’t help yourself from chuckling. “But you made the right decision. Don’t have a baby with a snake.”

“Don’t apologise, you’re right,” Harry joins you in laughter. “How about you and Luke? What happened?”

“Work got in the way,” you drain the rest of your drink before motioning for the bartender to get you another one. “I was only an associate back then so I worked so hard to get junior partner. And his company wasn’t as big as it is now so he was working crazy hours too because he was trying to expand it. We saw each other about three times a month for half a year before we called it off.”

“Three times a month?” his eyes widen in surprise.

“Mhm,” you hum, mouthing a thank you to the bartender as he hands you another drink. “We were besotted but we just didn’t have time for a relationship.”

“Do you still-”

“What? No,” you laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. The ship has sailed now.”

“Good,” he smiles at you, before hastily corrects himself. “I mean, good for you.”

You take another big gulp of your drink before you push it away. “Alright, playtime’s over,” you smirk at him. “Let’s get back to work.”

“Are you joking?” he gives you a quizzical look. “It’s nearly midnight and you’re drunk.”

“I just need two cups of coffee and a cold shower and I’ll be fine,” you reply as you hop off the bar stool, he quickly reaches his hand out for you to hold. “Let’s go back to my place so I can have a quick shower.”

“Let’s go to mine,” he offers. “Technically Maida Vale is closer from here than Hammersmith.”

“Are you trying to take me home, Styles?” you deadpan, your voice a little slurred. “Should’ve bought me dinner first, don’t you think?”

“Hey, I’ve bought you lots of dinners,” he retorts.

“No, Styles,” you shake your head, chuckling. “Clifford Chance bought me dinners. Been using the company’s card, haven’t you?”

Harry laughs. “You’ve got me.”

***

In under an hour, you’ve arrived at Harry’s flat, had a cup of coffee, and a cold shower just as you requested. You’ve ditched your work dress and slipped into the clothes that Harry had laid on his bed for you; a blue Mickey Mouse t-shirt and a pair of black shorts, and when you walk into his sitting room, you see him sitting on his plush sofa with some clipped documents in his hand.

Your eyes dart around his flat once again as you plop yourself down on his sofa. He’s got a great taste, you’ve got to admit, because his flat is lush. It’s on the fourth floor of a beautiful, red-brick, Edwardian mansion which Maida Vale is well-known for, and the inside is modern meets classic. The gray panelled walls blend nicely with the elegant patterned wood floor, and the cream curtains really tie the look of his flat altogether. It really is a gorgeous flat, not to mention the white marble en suite and his really neat, sparsely decorated bedroom.

“Alright,” you begin, taking a document into your hand and begin skimming through briefly only to put it back on the coffee table in less than thirty seconds. “I’ve been at it all day, we’ve been at it for a while and it’s getting us nowhere. I think we need to shake down some employees.”

“And that’s all well and good,” he turns to look at you. “But if we don’t know what to ask, we’re not going to get any answers.”

“Yes we will,” you insist. “They don’t know what we don’t know, do they?”

“They don’t know what we don’t know…”

“That’s literally what I just said,” you frown.

“No,” he shakes his head. “Look, I’m saying according to this report, their accounts are growing by 200% a month.”

“Wait a second,” you remark. “If that’s true then why are they clinging to this deal like it’s their newborn and I’m Herod?”

“Because maybe they’re not really growing by 200% a month,” Harry adds. “Look, March, 5 million new users, but 60% of these card holders don’t even seem to know they have the cards.”

“Holy shit,” your eyes widen in surprise. “The people are real, but the accounts are fake. Harry, this isn’t just shady, this is the type of shit that lands someone in prison. And if Camille knows all this…”

Harry grins. “Wait til the judge sees this.”

“The judge?” you look at him suspiciously. “Why don’t we just leverage them into letting us out?”

“Because, darling, we have the upper hand now,” he says, still grinning. “We can’t give her a chance to get it back.”

“Harry, if Camille has anything to do with this it would ruin her,” you warn him. “I can’t let you do this to someone you once cared about.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about her,” Harry says harshly. “Not anymore. If she doesn’t want to be ruined she shouldn’t have gotten involved in this. And she damn sure shouldn’t have fucked with someone I care about.”

“What?”

“You better get some sleep,” he jerks his head towards his bedroom. “We’re going to the court first thing in the morning.”

***

Harry’s bed has got to be one of the comfiest places on earth.

He gave you his bed for the night and opted for the couch, which you bet just as cosy so you didn’t really feel bad. When you wake up, he’s already clad in his white button-up shirt and black trousers, swinging the fridge open to get a freshly squeezed cranberry juice.

“Morning,” he smiles when he notices you as he pours some coffee and juice for both of you. “Have some toast.”

“You know how to treat your guest with a good breakfast, don’t you?” you tease him as you look around the jars on the breakfast nook. There are several kinds of luxury marmalade, strawberry jam with champagne, wild blossom honey and even Belgian chocolate spread. Honestly, who is this man?

“No hangover?”

“Surprisingly, no,” you chuckle. “I mean my head is pounding of course but it’s not too bad, nothing I can’t handle.”

“You want some nurofen?”

“No thanks,” you shake your head and take the cup of coffee from Harry’s hand. “Harry, we need to talk.”

He sighs. “You’re gonna try to change my mind, aren’t you?”

“I am,” you nod as you look through the jars of fancy jams, trying to choose one, before going with just salted butter instead. “I can’t let you do that. She might be a snake but I’m not. We’re not.”

Harry just look at you in silence, and you continue.

“If we do this, then what’s the difference between us and her?” you go on, trying to sound convincing. “We’re better than that. We’re good people, you know.”

“But we’re going to make her pay,” he finally concedes and you smile. “Really make her pay.”

“That I agree,” you nod. “Okay, I’ll just go home quickly to get changed then we’ll meet at the office? Need to pay her a visit don’t we?”

“We can just go together,” Harry suggests. “We’ll stop by your flat then we can go straight to that snake’s office.”

***

“Are you crazy?” Camille flashes an incandescent look at both you and Harry. “I sign that, my client will be on the brink of bankruptcy!”

“So you rather go to prison?” Harry frowns and you try to stifle your giggle. “I mean, it’s your choice, but-”

“Fine!” she says in exasperation. “I’ll sign it. But give me your word this wouldn’t go out of these walls.”

You hand her the file and pen, and as she’s signing it, you can’t resist yourself. “You go near me or my clients again I swear to god you are dead fucking meat.”

Harry can’t help but chuckling, and you both don’t waste another minute in Camille’s office before you head out with smug smiles plastered across both of your faces.

“You’re a badass lawyer,” he compliments you as he opens the passenger door for you.

“Stating the obvious there,” you smirk as you slide into his car and buckle up your seat belt. “But thank you, you’re not a shit lawyer yourself.”

“Since we’re passing compliments, shall we do it over a drink?”

“Drinks, Styles,” you shoot him a savage smile. “And you’re buying. Not Clifford Chance.”

Harry laughs, closing the car’s door. “As you wish.”

gif

#harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles drabbles #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #lawyer!harry #harry styles au #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles ff

1K notes · View notes

amariaamaris · 3 years

Text

Of Changes and Revelations

I got this idea from the other Marvel and TVD crossover that I did, it is going to be (hopefully) very different. I hope it comes out well and that I do it justice... I’m already working on a second part, I felt that this was getting a little to long! Please let me know what you think and if there are any grammar/spelling/punctuation things that need fixing. Constructive criticism is always welcome. This took me forever, there were so many roadblocks and questioning myself on if I actually wanted to write this. Thanks to my sister pushing me and my imagination running wild with promises of what I can do in the future with this... I decided to go through with it... so enjoy!

------------------------------------------------------------------------

After it’s all said it done; after Esther failing in killing her children, Bonnie’s mother being turned to break the link, Abby bailing (again), Klaus forcing Bonnie to break the spell Esther did... The expulsion of magic that resulted inadvertently saved Finn’s life, knocking out the scooby gang in the process (including most everyone in the town). While also setting fire to anything flammable within the radius of the town (leaving only a select few homes and buildings untouched). It’s safe to say all the white oak is gone... along with multiple buildings.... (oops?) The poor trees are all fried, though luckily they have strong bark, so they’ll survive (it also helps that Bonnie helped to heal them).

All of it coalesces and brings Bonnie to locking herself up in her grams house for as long as she pleases with no acknowledgement of the outside world. She had methodically gone through the house and unplugged the internet, tv’s, shut down her phone, and all other electronics. She just wants to be left alone, Bonnie is exhausted; she’s tired of being used, abused, and taken for granted.

She had found a boundary spell in one of the grimoires to keep those with ill or selfish intent off her property and the fu- away from her (especially certain vampires). In the middle of the week Bonnie left her grams house and went to the school. At the beginning of the week she set up this time to test out of high school.

Bonnie made sure to blend in with the crowd to not be spotted by her “friends”; they may have not seen her, but she definitely saw them. She took the test within three and a half class periods and got the hell out of there. Bonnie drove away like a bat out of hell and made it back to her grams house as fast as she possibly could. She had completely moved into her grams house throughout the one after another of the supernatural shit show that she now calls her life (or rather did call her life). Not like her father was ever around for her to bother staying in his house.

The plus side of testing out of high school is that she can go and get whatever she needs without being worried about being ambushed by her “friends” or the Mikaelson's. Bonnie has also decided that she is going to take all the time that she needs to spend on self-love, working with her magic to learn, and embrace it joyfully. She also has been spending time in meditation and speaking with all of her ancestors. For once in her life, Bonnie Shelia Bennett has finally decided to be selfish and damn the consequences.

Little did she know that her new change would go right along with a huge change that will flip her world on its axis and bring up deeply buried memories.

————

Rudy Bennett knew that this day would come, he knew that eventually they would hunt him down. After all, he did abandon his post, he cut off all contact and went rogue. In doing so, also kept his child away from her culture and her people. He knows that if they find out about her and his lack of parenting, that would sign his fate.

Rudy couldn’t hide his shaking hands as he poured himself a drink and promptly chugged what was in his glass. He did decide that he wouldn’t run or hide, he was going to wait for them to come. He just got done pouring his second one when the lights flickered off; causing a shiver of fear to run down his spine, he could also feel sweat on the back of his neck.

When the lights flickered on, there were two Dora Milaje standing on the other side of his desk. Still as stone holding their vibranium spears, with the king and his cousin standing in between them. Both in different black panther suits (armor?), causing Rudy to gulp. Rudy could feel more sweat break out on his skin as he warily stared at his king.

“D’Kadi Dzube, you’ve been missing a long time.” Rudy or rather D’Kadi watched as both the men tapped on their collars and watched as the mask melted away and showed their faces. Rudy could hear his blood rushing to his ears as he felt himself pale a little. “You were once my father’s most trusted war dog. Then one day, you disappeared without a trace. Just a few months ago we found you... we also found some very interesting information. D’Kadi Dzube you have a daughter that you hid from your people. From my understanding you have been neglecting her as well.”

Rudy could hear ringing in his ears and the blood rushing through his body, he could imagine that he looked white as a sheet. Everything was blurring and before he knew it his eyes were rolling and he fell into darkness.

————

Bonnie could feel something coming to the depths of her bones, it would cause her to pause as her hair would stand up on its ends. Which would lead her to looking out the windows, but there was nothing there. It got to the point where Bonnie decided to add an extra warding to the house rather than the property. Evidently to keep anyone away from the structure of the home, while still being able to enter the yard (only if they pass the wards on the property that is).

Bonnie had started a cute little herbal and vegetable/fruit garden in her backyard, along with some landscaping spanning around the whole house. Along with flowers on both sides of the pathway walking up to the house. Bonnie has never before felt this free and happy. That doesn’t change the fact that she still feels a phantom twinge of pain when she thinks of how her friends haven’t even tried to come visit her. Not. A. Single. One.

Hell! Even Klaus showed up! Not that he could get on the property and it’s not like he was checking up on her... but still! Bonnie lets out an annoyed huff and shakes her head as she focuses back on her plants at the front of the house. She tries to work through her agitation; at her friends, the Mikaelson’s, the Salvatore’s, her parents, her grams for not teaching her from the beginning, at herself for not being smarter and wiser, and Bonnie might as well add the world to the list to.

She very quickly finds herself falling into a flow of taking care of the plants as everything washes away. Bonnie has found that in many instances doing something like this puts her in a meditative trance that helps to center her. Two hours pass with Bonnie working on her plants, when she hears a car drive up and park on the curb.

Bonnie allows herself to slow down in her landscaping work, but doesn’t turn around - even as she hears the car doors open and shut. She can also hear strangely accented voices talking, both male... but she can sense more people with them. Hearing them coming closer makes Bonnie glad that she chose to wear a wide brimmed straw hat that belonged to her grams (she’s rather not have people recognize her before she can tell whether or not they are threats).

“Excuse me? Are you the daughter of Rudy Bennett and Abby Bennett....” She freezes, but gives no answer. Bonnie can already feel her magic gathering, ready to motus the hell out of all of the people behind her. Receiving no answer, the people behind her exchange looks, “Granddaughter to Shelia Bennett?” Bonnie feels her agitation spike, causing her to rip off her dirty gardening gloves and throw them to the ground.

Bonnie turns around to look at them, noticing two men that look like cousins, two bald women that have what look to be tribal tattoos on their heads, and a random white man wearing clothing far heavy for how warm it is. Bonnie can practically feel her magic crackling at her fingertips and through her hair. “That depends on who is asking and why...?”

One of the cousins move to step forward, but upon seeing the look on her face, thinks better of it. Though, that didn’t stop him from kindly smiling at her, “My name is T’Challa, this is my cousin N’Jadaka, these two women are Okoye and Ayo, and this is James Barnes. I would like to speak to you about your father.”

Bonnie studies all of them and then flicks her eyes back to T’Challa, before she can respond with something biting, she hears whispers upon the wind. She allows herself to slightly tilt her head to listen better. After a few seconds Bonnie focuses back on T’Challa and the people he brought with him. “I’m not interested in talking about the sperm donor that calls himself my father. I could care less what type of underground cultish mafia he got himself into. If he owes you anything make Rudy deal with it, his problem’s aren’t mine to deal with.”

Bonnie quickly makes her way onto the porch of the house - without turning her back on them (she doesn’t have a death wish) - already knowing that whoever these people are, they aren’t going to let her off easily. N’Jadaka, the man with weird bumps all over his extremely musc- no! Bonnie quickly mentally shakes herself as he snickers with a smirk on his face. “I don’t think I have ever heard someone call people from Wakanda a cult or mafia. The little kitten does have a point cousin.” He runs his tongue over his teeth, “She should be wary, she knows nothing about her father’s history. “

“N’Jadaka...” T’Challa gives him a sharp warning look, not noticing Bonnie moving to open the front door to slip inside. “Where do you think you’re going kitten? We said we wanted to talk that’s what you’re going to let us do!” He moves to go onto the porch, but feels like he hit a brick wall, N’Jadaka also gets a nasty zap throughout his entire body. Causing him to hiss slightly in pain as the group takes notice of the wind picking up and hissing whispers upon the wind (not that they could make out what they were saying). They do notice how Bonnie seems to understand exactly what is being said upon her head whipping around to face the road. All of them watched as she ripped off her hat and lightly tossed it onto the porch swing, they heard the sharp angry hiss escape from her as her green eyes darkened.

The group from Wakanda evenly spaced themselves out as they turned upon hearing a car door slam, they all watch as a long blonde haired young woman walked around the car and onto the property. “Bonnie! Where have you been? We have all been trying to get a hold of you, you haven’t been at school, you haven’t been answering your phone or showing up to practice! We’ve been worried! Honestly Bonnie Bennett you better have a good reason for completely cutting all of us out of your life... who are these people?!” Bonnie stares at Caroline for a few seconds realizing that her chest no longer hurts when thinking of her ex-friends. In fact Bonnie realizes with sudden clarity that there isn’t pain when she thinks of her friends, only white hot fiery fury and looking at Caroline only makes her annoyance and fury rise at the audacity that she had to show up to her grams house unannounced at her house, at her sanctuary.

“Who they are is none of your business Caroline, in fact they were just leaving, like you will be. I’m not particularly in the mood to talk to people that ruined my perfectly peaceful day by arriving unannounced.” Turning her attention to the curious onlookers Bonnie continues “I don’t care to talk about Rudy and whatever shit show he’s gotten himself into,” looking to Caroline “and I don’t want to be forced to listen to lies! I’m well aware that none of you have noticed my absence up until a couple days ago. I’m also aware that none of you actually care for me, all of you just see me as some weapon to be used. Well I’m done being your sword and shield. I want all of you the hell off of my grams property. Do whatever you want with Rudy, it’s not my problem and I want nothing to do with it. Caroline you and the rest of those assholes can shove your lies and demands up your asses. I’m not going to be your quick fix to problems you brought on yourselves. Grow the fuck up and deal with them yourself! Now get the fuck off of my property!”

The front door slams viciously behind Bonnie, whose screaming voice still echoed in the air with whispers following it, the group from Wakanda all had their eyebrows almost to their hairlines. While Caroline’s jaw was dropped almost to the ground in shock and hurt. “You should leave Care-o-line, you’re no friend of hers.” N’Jadaka’s voice quickly pulls her out of it and brings up her misplaced righteous fury. “Oh, really, I am her friend. Who the hell are you? From the way it was looking none of you are friends of Bonnie’s! I’m her best friend!! You had to have done something to upset her, she would have never said something like that or treated me that way! All of you are the ones who should leave!”

N’Jadaka moves to step forward, but James puts his hidden vibranium arm in front of him and says only one thing in a harsh warning tone. “Erik...” Causing Erik to suck on his teeth for a second then back down. While T’Challa steps forward with his hands up in the universal sign of peace. “Miss...” Caroline huffs out her answer to his silent question, “Caroline Forbes!” He immediately gives a soft smile, “Miss Forbes, I believe all of us need to leave Bonnie alone for the time being. If it makes you feel better we will get into our car first, but we will only be leaving after you drive away. She is important to our people and I will not risk something happening.” Caroline works her jaw as the gogs in her brain slowly turn, her eyes sharpen for a few seconds, but she quickly gives in and slowly, dejectedly nods.

None of them notice the whispers on the wind that one small young Bennett witch listens too as they all drive away, with a contemplating look in her eyes.

————

The next day has Bonnie working in the backyard harvesting the herbs, vegetables, and fruits that she needs. Bonnie gives absolutely no reaction to N’Jadaka’s presence as he walks around the back of the house. “You know it’s seen as extremely rude to not only invite yourself to someone’s house, especially not knocking on the front door.” She has to hide her slight smile upon hearing him huff out a laugh, “I’d love to knock on your front door kitten, the only problem is... I couldn’t seem to get on the first step.” Bonnie can sense the question in his words, but chooses to ignore it and continue her work. She can feel him watching her and gets quickly fed up witch a harsh huff Bonnie stops what she is doing, stands up, and turns to face him.

She has to give herself a few seconds to get accustomed to the height difference between the two of them, to put it simply... he dwarfs her. Not only in height, but in sheer muscle mass, she averts her eyes to try and hide the affect he’s having on her. Bonnie decides to chalk it up to the fact that she hasn’t had any direct human contact for a while. “Look N’Jadaka...” “Erik” His interruption causes her to blink, “What?” Erik let’s out a quiet huff while a smirk plays along his lips. “My colonizer name kitten, is Erik. I’d rather go by it than N’Jadaka... has a lot more pride in it than my other name does.”

Bonnie quietly mouths colonizer with a confused look, but decides that they can come back to that later. “Fine! Erik... just...” Bonnie let’s out breath and frowns as her eyes play across the plains of his face and the outdoors. “I don’t know why... but my ancestors like you and they say that I can trust you. Now I’m going to do something that I never do... I’m going to trust my ancestors.” She allows herself to walk up to him and look him directly in the eyes “and if you ever... and I mean ever break that trust. I will personally find a way to kill you, slowly, painfully, and only when your begging for mercy will I kill you... got it?” While she was talking her finger was poking him in the chest to help emphasize her words with a sickly sweet smile upon her face.

Erik gives a slow smile knowing that he shouldn’t find himself turned on by her threat, but he is. He allows himself to carefully grab the hand she was poking him with and holds onto it. Erik chooses to ignore the quiet gasp that escapes her lips... for the moment “You got it kitten, would you like me to explain what you were very unwilling to talk about yesterday with my cousin?” He watches completely fascinated as her eyelashes shadow her eyes while she thinks it over, when she looks up and focuses back on him, she gives a hesitant nod. “Okay, but your helping me with my garden... if we have to talk about something that I would rather never have to think about again, your going to be useful and help.” Her words pull a sharp laugh out of Erik, as he grins and gives a nod in acceptance.

Once she quickly shows him what do to and what to look for, they start working. As they work he explains everything to her, everything hidden from her, everything that her father has done... everything. It completely shatters her, it obliterates everything she thought she knew about her father and his side of the family, everything she thought she knew and understood about herself; it sends her completely into orbit. She doesn’t even realize that she is crying, nor does she realize that she is raging at Erik and upon his body. Her fists swinging to hit his chest as her magic angrily swirls around them. Bonnie feels as though she is shattered into a trillion shimmering atoms being carried away upon the wind. She can’t tell if she will ever find herself... how can she? Bonnie doesn’t think that she can gather the exploded pieces... how can she find them? They have scattered to the wind getting caught in the trees, falling to the streams of water to be carried and caught elsewhere. Bonnie can’t even feel Erik tightly holding her as he somehow carries her inside of her grans house. And eventually, much later into the night, he helps to pull her back together, but for now. He try’s to help hold together what little is left of Bonnie Shelia Bennett.

As her true name echoes through her entire being...

Ahnika...

————————————————————

I hope you enjoyed it, please let me know what you think. The second part is on its way! Peace, love, and joy!

#thevampirediares #black panther #bonnie bennett #rudy bennett #t'challa #n'jadaka #dora milaje #crossover #james buchanan barnes #white wolf #non canon

27 notes · View notes