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allie-campbell-bradshaw · 5 months

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Chapter 10: Maybe It Isn’t All Bullshit

A/N: This chapter had me COMPLETELY in my feels! This is when the pages really start to turn people! I tried something new and wrote it in the author’s point of view, that way we could get a good grasp on Bradley AND Allie’s feeling at the same time. You’ll also find some more developments for supporting characters as well. I mention this in my notes for every chapter, but just in case you missed it– I do not give permission for my work to be re-posted without credibility. If you do want to post this story to your page, please be sure that you tag my account or at least mention its original source in your post.

Also: This story is sequential…please go back and read my other chapters, in order, for the best results!

Again, thank you for being here and I hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: Very brief mentions of sex (nothing explicit), swearing (it is the navy after all), mentions of a horrible childhood, and a blissful wisp of a blossoming romance!

Chapter 10: Maybe It Isn’t All Bullshit

AUTHOR’S POV

Allie closed the door of room 2 on the student wing. The student wing of the Naval Academy hospital was outside. The navy letters of the hospital hung over the 6 navy blue doors that led to the patient rooms. These rooms were used for quick and easy treatments for students and staff that suffered slight injuries throughout the day. That morning, Allie had treated two students who fell pretty bad on the track. Easy bandaging. The student in room 2 broke his clavicle during an incident on the submarine simulation that they had on base. Allie assisted with the X-Ray imaging and helped the student get placed in a sling. The day was very uneventful overall.

Allie made her way back into the hospital through the sliding glass doors, crossed the hall of the lobby, and made her way over to the nurses station in the second wing where Kiera and Holly were standing.

“Join us for lunch?” Kiera asked Allie, as she was finishing up typing the report of sling man.

“Can’t” Allie answered shortly, keeping her eyes on the computer screen.

Kiera and Holly exchanged a look, as if to tell each other that their friend is no longer as fun as she used to be.

“Okay, that’s it!” Kiera said, reaching over and pulling the laptop away from Allie.

Allie looked over at her confused; “What?” she asked genuinely. Not at all understanding what Kiera meant by that.

Kiera gave her a slight smirk, “We are prescribing you with a break…” she said in a gentle tone, not wanting to upset her best friend.

“I take plenty of breaks.” Allie corrected her, reaching over and pulling the laptop back in her direction, wanting to finish her report on the student she just saw.

“Not enough!” Kiera replied, a little snappy, but still gentle enough to complete her humble personality. Kiera slid the laptop back to her and held on tight on the back of the screen. Allie reached over for it again, but she didn’t try to snatch it back. She knew it would be no use, Kiera was far more stronger than her.

Allie looked down as she collected her composure, growing slightly frustrated with the “cock blocking” that her friend was doing between herself and her work.

“Look,” Kiera began, “We love you and we can see the life being sucked out of your eyes. Working with students is torture, and it sucks your soul out…” Kiera was being incredibly sarcastic and the least bit sympathetic for Allie’s situation during this shirt: “ but we can also see that you are itching for some fun!”

Allie kept her eyes down, but did look up slightly, admitting to herself that Kiera was right. She had been stressed to the MAX since she graduated from nursing school at Johns Hopkins University back in May. While there, she met her two best friends, and brought them with her to the Naval Academy when they graduated. Given Holly’s obsession with military men, she followed without a problem. Kiera however, was a different story.

Kiera was from New York City, growing up in a family of 7 in two, sometimes one, bedroom apartments throughout the area. She was the oldest, and held onto much of the responsibility of keeping house while her parents worked multiple jobs to pay the bills. When she graduated high school, all she wanted to do was get out. She went as far as she could within reason and ended up in the nursing program with Allie. However, after 4 years apart from her family, and the death of her brother, she felt it was her responsibility to go back and help with her other siblings. After a nasty fight with her mom after she moved back, Kiera packed her bags, moved in with Holly, and never looked back. It had been 2 months since she’d heard from any of her family, but it didn’t bother her as much as it used to, since she was with the two people she loved most.

“Please,” Kiera pleaded to Allie, “join us for lunch. It’s only 30 minutes out of your life”.

Allie looked up at Kiera, who had a hint of loneliness and pain in her eyes, nodded and smirked at her.

All three girls walked out of the lobby and into the connecting wing of the academy, where a small cafe stood in the corner of the large room. The room was a completely open concept with glass walls stretching all three stories. Stairs linked the three stories on the opposite side, with glass paneling that overlooked the cafe area. It was small, only 6 tables scattered the cafe area, each with sets of 2-4 chairs–people moved them around all the time.

Allie and Holly sat down at one of the tables and Kiera went to an empty table, grabbed an unused chair, and brought it over to them. The tables and chairs were gray metal, completely cold due to not being used in awhile. Two Academy students were working in the cafe, dressed in their service khakis with an apron provided by the cafe draped over them.

Kiera bought all three of them coffee, which they all greatly accepted. “So,” Kiera said, breaking the awkward silence that now existed at the table, “What’s the newest update with medical school”?

Kiera and Holly had their eyes glued to Allie, who just responded with a shrug. She had felt defeated recently in regards to that subject. Halfway into the nursing program, Allie got to participate in a field experience in the surgical wing of Sinai Hospital. During that time, she saw a life saving surgery of a little girl that reminded her of herself when she was her age. She got to be part of the team that performed her heart surgery. However, there was a complication with the surgery that was discovered the next day, and the girl died within minutes. That experience changed Allie’s life, and she realized that nursing was not her end goal in healthcare. Since that day, Allie had been studying anatomy and surgical procedures during all of her spare time. She had recently filled out applications to various medical schools in the United States, hoping to be accepted and able to go by this time next year.

Harvard, Stanford, Cambridge, and Oxford all had applications form her headed their way. She wanted to be able to attend a medical school that was not only rigorous, but also an institution. She honestly didn’t care which of the four she was accepted into, but Stanford was her number one. No reason other than that was just the one she gravitated towards the most. Most particularly because it was away from here…this Academy…where she constantly had men breathing down her neck.

The conversation drifted from Allie’s current surgical studies, to Holly’s love interests (of that there were plenty), to Kiera’s dry-spell, which has lasted longer than she cared to admit. Allie finally let out her first genuine smile-filled laugh when the pager, attached to her hip, went off beep, beep-beep, beep. Silence. Beep, beep-beep, beep.

Allie’s face dropped as she was slowly forced back into reality. She was being paged back to the hospital. She checked her pager’s screen to see the message: Student, 23, in need of immediate medical assistance, student-wing, room 1.

Kiera and Holly’s smiles also dropped as they watched their overworked friend get called back into her personal hell. “And just like that,” Kiera began, in an upset tone; “the magic is broken”.

“Well,” Allie said, as she began to get up, “We ain’t no Disneyland”!

“Hey,” Holly said softly, watching her friend, who had a look of dread in her eyes, “Don’t forget about Friday, please?” Holly knew it was inevitable that Allie would cancel, but had high hopes that she would go out with them just this once.

Allie tapped her forehead with her index finger twice, as a way to say ‘it’s in my brain’ as she grabbed her trash and turned towards the hospital. Her friends watched as she strutted out of the cafe, threw her trash away, and went into the hospital wing.

There were flirtatious giggles coming from the two men that were behind the cafe counter. Kiera and Holly looked at them and then back at each other, rolling their eyes in sync at the men’s thoughts that they knew were of Allie as she passed.

“Why can’t that kind of stuff happen to me?” Holly said in desperation.

“Because you give into anything that moves” Kiera replied in a funny tone, making fun of her friends’ tendencies, while also making it clear that it was a joke out of love.

They both got up and started assembling their own trash as they prepared for their afternoon shift with their patients, all of which were recovering from extensive surgeries that happened within the last few days, and one woman that recently had a baby. Although this hospital was located at the Naval Academy, it still was available to the public as it was one of the only hospitals in Annapolis with a solid reputation. It was small, but the surrounding community appreciated having quality care ready for them should they need to go to the emergency room, but it was mainly used for Naval students and staff as well as navalmen and women that were stationed around the area.

Allie stopped at the other nurses station that was at the right wing of the hospital, smiling at another nurse as she handed her a clipboard with this 23-year-old student’s information on it. Allie returned the smile with a slight smirk of her own, even this nurse, who barely knew Allie, knew how much she hated being on the “student shift”.

Allie read through the notes of the student’s medical file as she made her way to room 1 of the hospital;

Name: Bradley Bradshaw

Age: 23

Vitals

Body Temp: 98.2

Pulse Rate: 63

Respiration Rate: 16 Bpm

Blood Pressure: 111/60 mm Hg

Description of Injury: Student was in their flight training course when they smacked their hand on a magnet strip located inside of the cessna. Student has reported a pain level of 3/10, although it is expected to be much higher. Student now has ice on the injury, but it needs to be wrapped. X-Ray showed no signs of broken or fractured bones. Monitor for possible ligament strain.

Allie knocked on the door of room one, as to give her patient a warning that she was about to come in. She pushed the door and held the clipboard to her chest. “Good afternoon Mr. Brad-” she froze in her place as she made eye contact with the man that has single handedly made her life more stressful during this last week and a half.

“Mr. Bradshaw. Or, you could even say Midshipman Bradshaw”. Bradley responded to her, with a flirtatious smirk on his face, sweat forming along his hairline. It was no lie that this outdoor wing of the hospital was known for its low quality air-flow. The summers were miserable in these sticky rooms and the winters left you freezing. Students worked their asses off to make sure that they didn’t get hurt during the extremely hot and extremely cold days, but for some, it was unavoidable.

“Jesus” Allie muttered under her breath, looking down so she could roll her eyes as she prepared for what was going to be the longest 15 minutes of her life. Utter torture is the best thing she could compare it to.

“What?” Bradley questioned, leaning in so he could hear her better. Although he asked, he knew full well what she said.

Allie raised her eyebrows and put on a fake smirk as she walked over to the counter, putting his chart down and washing her hands. “So,” she began, as she turned off the faucet and shook her hands over the sink before grabbing a handful of paper towels to dry the remaining moisture, “You smashed your hand on a magnet strip inside an airplane?” She sounded a bit unimpressed, and left a tone that was meant to make him feel utterly stupid, which didn’t work. Nothing really hurts his feelings anymore.

“No”. He replied, quickly closing his eyes and shaking his head. Obviously he told a lie, but it was more like a half-truth than a full-on lie. “I mean, yes” he corrected himself. Allie looked at him utterly confused, with a face that one would have when talking to a completely stupid person. “Yes, I hurt my hand, but not by accident.”

“So, you hurt your hand on purpose?” Allie questioned as she threw away the paper towels and sat down in the rolling stool, making her way over to Bradley.

“Yes.” Bradley answered matter of factly. “I needed to see you, and I knew that this was the only wa-”

“You can just stop there!” Allie said back sternly as she placed her fingers on his hand, with the intent to turn it so his palm would be facing up, but something made her stop. Something about his touch made a bolt of electricity fire through her. She quickly let go of his moist hand.

Bradley noticed the change in her demeanor and had a look of curiosity on his face. She gathered her composure and looked up at him, taking note of his complexion. His eyes were a piercing brown, with a hint of hazel. Hers were a brighter hazel, one that would be the next shade up from his if they were on a color palette together. “I’m sorry,” she apologized softly as she went back to grab onto his hand.

“It’s okay,” Bradley responded, slightly uneven, “I don’t bite”. He said, in an attempt to lighten the mood. Allie would never admit it to him, but that joke did amuse her for a brief moment. Allie now had his palm facing up and was examining the swelling that did not look good, at all.

“But you do gamble”. She said, throwing a punch in her words, which stung at Bradley’s heart.

“Yeah,” Bradley said slowly and cautiously, “about that…”

“Don’t worry about it”. Allie said, stealing a glance up at him before going back to his hand. “You’re not the first one to say that. It was quite unoriginal”.

Allie now rolled her chair over to the cabinets and bent down over the stool, opening a floor cabinet and began rummaging through it, looking for ace wrap.

“But, it wasn’t even my idea”. Bradley said, with a slight beg in his voice. “It was my roommate Emmett’s, I just went along with it”.

Allie froze in her search, looking up at his leg for a split second before refocusing on the insides of the cabinet, scanning every corner for the wrap that she needed for his hand. She couldn’t explain it, and didn’t want to believe it, but something felt genuine in his voice.

Finally, she found it! She reached far back as she grabbed the substance, closed the cabinet and rolled back over to Bradley. He looked at her with a curious expression, wanting to know everything that was swimming in her brain.

“I-” He began, before finding himself speechless. How could he not be? In a room with a woman as beautiful as her in it, it was easy to find oneself speechless. “It was just bullshit. I was bullshitting him. I didn’t care about a single outcome of that bet. I just wanted to get to know you. That’s not bullshit.”

Allie was now holding his hand steady as she interlaced his hand with the ace wrap, completely ignoring his explanation on the outside, but fully listening to it on the inside. “You’ll need to keep this completely wrapped for 24 hours, and then just re-wrap it every time you notice the swelling flaring up. Take ibuprofen for the swelling and pain. It should go down within the next few days. I would come back on Monday if it hasn’t. Make sure to ice! Don’t use heat, or the swelling will get worse. And absolutely don’t go putting your hands on medal powerstrips ever again”.

Allie started standing up, when she felt his clean hand hold onto her wrist, “Allie-” He began to plead, but let her go after a second, knowing full well that no amount of begging would satisfy her.

“Mr. Bradshaw,” she began, with a professional tone in her voice, “Midshipman Bradshaw,” she corrected, remembering what he said 20 minutes earlier. She swallowed hard as she prepared for the next layer of her speech, “I appreciate your care and compassion for the Navy. Your service can never be fully repaid”.

Bradley smirked and nodded his head in thanks as she went on, “But I would like to remind you that I am a nurse, and you are my patient. And we will not have a relationship that goes anywhere beyond that. I would appreciate it if we could continue this relationship professionally whether it be in the hallways or a treatment room. I thank you for your patience and understanding.”

Allie turned her body towards the cabinets when she froze in her tracks, caught off guard by Bradley’s loud laugh. “Oh-my-God!” Bradley managed to say in between laughs, “How many times have you said that?”

Allie was in fumes, upset with his reaction. “You see,” He said, still in a fit of laughter, “Here I am being genuine in my apology, and here you are with the same old bullshit boring speech that you give the ordinary midshipmen”. Bradley was still laughing, but Allie could have nothing more to do with this conversation.

She turned her body and grabbed his chart off the counter, stealing one last glance at him, her face red with rage. Turning her back towards him and heading to the door, she froze again, finding the anger getting the best of her. “Listen here!” She snapped, facing him and letting him have it, “Your ‘apology’ was anything but. An apology is saying “sorry” and all I heard you say was nothing but excuses and vulgar language!” Bradley had stopped laughing and was growing anxious as she was walking towards him, “and don’t even think for a second that you’re anything out of the ordinary ‘Midshipman Bradshaw’. You are completely ordinary! In fact, even the most ordinary of men here have more originality than you! And it’s not at all about the bet! It’s about the fact that a 22 year old man can’t even come up and simply ask me out on a date without having to get his no good, immature, teenage roommate involved! Now there is nothing more bullshit than that!”

Allie stormed out of the room, letting the door slam behind her as she stomped through the pavement, halfway between room 1 and the sliding glass doors of the hospital, she slowed her pace and then quickly came to a complete halt.

What did I just do? She thought to herself, completely embarrassed about her lack of professionalism. Had she just put her entire future at risk? Her job? Her security blanket? But more importantly, did she just admit that she wanted Bradley to ask her out on a date? She didn’t mean it the way it came out. She wasn’t interested! At all! But would going out with him be so bad? And if he didn’t fuck up and just asked the normal way, would she have said no?

Of course I would have! She answered her thoughts. I would have rejected him just as hard as I’ve rejected others in the academy. She didn’t care that he was much older and more mature than plenty of the other ‘ya-who’s’ on campus. Before she knew it, she was storming back to room 1, throwing the door open, and finding Bradley in the same position that she left him in–paralyzed with shock on the chair that was next to the exam table.

She looked at him, and he looked at her. She was covered in anger and he was completely flabbergasted. No one knew what to say.

“If that wasn’t bullshit, what was I wearing?” She demanded to know. His eyes squinted in confusion, his lips parted on his smooth shaven face.

“The night we met,” she answered, reading his mind. “What was I wearing?”

She stood above him like a queen looking down on the poorest of peasants, knowing the full power she had over him in this moment. She had got him in his own game! From her experience, any man that ever wanted to sleep with her only noticed two things, her eyes, and the shape of her perky breasts. And he was about to be caught red-handed in the same league as those ‘ordinary’ assholes that she has fought against for years.

Bradley looked down, adjusting his shoes and tying a lace that had gotten loose. She watched as he did this, finally noticing that he was wearing the camo pants of his working uniform and a black skin tight shirt that was showing off the muscles that he had begun forming, they were still underdeveloped, but further along than any other midshipman that she had seen on base.

He sniffled and stood up, keeping his head down as he answered her question, “You were wearing a red dress with white flowers printed all over them. It was loose, and swayed in the breeze that hit you on the dock. Your hair was out of your regular ponytail, curled more than it is now. You had on an anklet that showed in the sunlight, and later on I saw that you had on a locket. It had an “A” printed on it. Your toes were painted a light pink. It was the same color as your nails. And you had white sandals that you carried instead of wore. And studs in your ears that were opals'' Bradley was now at her shoulder as he looked down at her, a complete shift in the power…now he was the king and she was the peasant. She held a flabbergasted expression on her face.

He didn’t say anything else, slowly walking towards the door, “Thank you for the care, nurse Campbell.” he said to her as he left the room, proving he knew another detail of her life–taking the time to learn her full name rather than her bra size.

Allie stood there in shock, focusing on nothing but breathing as she reached into the neck of her scrubs and pulled out the golden locket that was attached to a golden chain. She rubbed her thumb against the “A” that was on the face of the heart. She kept her gaze forward as she regained her composure.

She knew that she made a lot of solid points, and that her analysis of this man was legit. He was less than ordinary, and a complete ass, but she was wrong about one thing… it wasn’t all bullshit.

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lumosinlove · 3 years

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Between Fifth and You

(cw in tags)

chapter one

“Olives or twist?”

Sirius had to watch the barkeep’s mouth to make out the words beneath the pounding music, which meant Sirius caught the way his eyes skittered across his face almost fearfully. The sheer amount of obsidian in this place probably did nothing to lighten his features. Not to mention, few people knew how to look him in the eye.

“Twist,” he said.

The man nodded and flipped the bottle of gin until it dipped into a shot glass, the glass into the ice. Sirius watched until he was stirring the bitters in and a hand appeared on his shoulder, lips to his neck.

“Burn this,” Saint said, and plucked at Sirius’ shirt sleeve, rubbing the black material between his fingers. Sirius raised an eyebrow as he turned. Saint’s own shirt was unbuttoned half way down his hard chest, light brown skin warm in the flashing club lights. “You’ve worn it too many times.”

“Hello to you, too,” Sirius said. “I like this shirt.”

“I liked it two months ago,” Saint replied. “It’s September now, your highness.”

Sirius scoffed as the bartender slid him his drink.

“You gonna tell everyone the sun did that?” Sirius took a clean sip of gin with one hand and stroked his other through Saint’s gold curls, only suddenly some of the slightly course strands were almost white.

Saint’s grin turned coy. “Isn’t it nice to have a mystery to think about?”

“Oh, yeah, do blonds have more fun?”

“You wouldn’t know.”

The music kicked up a beat that Sirius felt through his spine.

“Why do we always come here?” he leaned a hip against the bar. “We have an entire city.”

“Yeah, fuck the rest of the world, we have one whole city.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Saint shook his head. “Because that’s what we do. You see that guy over there? I’ve taken him out four times. Couldn’t tell you his name. They couldn’t tell you mine.”

“Everyone knows your name, Saint.”

Saint grinned. “Maybe. But why do we go back to each other? Because we’re creatures of fucking habit.” Saint cocked his head, stole Sirius’ drink. “And what is this city but a bad, bad habit?”

Sirius’ blood cooled and he looked away.

What am I, Sirius? said the familiar voice from his memory. Am I easy? Am I safe? Do you want me, or am I just familiar now?

He closed his eyes against the memory of his reply.

Bad habit indeed.

XOXO

Spotted—a familiar face from the past. What has this train brought in? Thanks to a tip from @magicinthemaking, I bring you this picture of none other than Remus Lupin (and a certain Southern bell we know and love) under Grand Central’s stars. We missed you, Re—how was England? Or was it Europe?

The rumors can never seem to decide, but why the sudden change in plans to take his Junior year abroad? Here we were thinking he wanted nothing more than to stay.

I wonder how another certain star will feel about this sudden homecoming. And just in time for senior year’s Fall semester, too.

XOXO.

Remus adjusted his suitcase, glad he’d mailed so many of his things home. He’d been on U.S. soil for all of three hours, and he already missed Rome. He wanted to walk down the tiny staircase from his billet family’s apartment and get a cappuccino. He wanted to stand on the drain of the Pantheon and soak up the sheer history in the air.

He already wanted a break.

But he also wanted to see Julian. Sometimes it felt like the only thing pulling him back home was seeing his baby brother’s grin in real life rather than across a Facetime call.

“All good?”

Remus looked up at Leo. His blond hair was still bleached a bright blond from the Roman sun. Their program had ended in May, but Remus was glad they had stayed together. He hadn’t been looking for Leo—for someone to kiss for the first time in the rose garden at the top of the Aventine Hill while Leo told him about its past as a cemetery.

It’s footpaths are laid out like a Minorah, see? Leo had pointed out. To remember. 300 different types of roses isn’t enough. But I like to come here.

Remus thought it had been Leo’s love for history, and his respect, too, that had drawn him in. They both came from a world where the biggest thing most people cared about was what they’d wear to the next party, and who was bringing their next drink.

Remus hadn’t been able to believe his luck, as fragile as his heart was still.

“Yeah,” Remus nodded. “All good.”

But he wasn’t sure. They hadn’t been friends here, in the city, or at Hogwarts. It had been Rome. Remus didn’t know what their old lives would do to them. But he took Leo’s hand and watched the way Leo fingered the star he wore around his neck, the way he shot Remus his dimpled smile.

“Come on,” Remus said. “I want you to meet Julian.”

XOXO

Good morning Upper East Siders—Gossip Girl here. All trends point to Fall’s Hogwartsers coming back in Black—in more ways than one. Sirius Black’s got a baby brother on campus now, and after another wild summer for the Hogwarts College elite, count me in with the rest of them on wondering what to expect. Rumor is he’s not much like our favorite star.

“You don’t have to talk to me, you know.”

Sirius kept his eyes on his eggs and toast. “Your missing your tie. Mom said—”

“What do you care?” Regulus replied. “I hear when she used to make you wear one it usually ended up around some other guy’s neck by ten in the morning.”

“If you’re going to believe everything you read on Gossip Girl about me, then maybe I won’t talk to you.”

Regulus smirked. “So, you read it, too.”

“Boys.”

Both brothers went back to their breakfasts.

“Good morning, mom,” Sirius said.

Walburga Black smiled with her painted lips, resting a hand on Sirius’ shoulder and bending to kiss his cheek.

“Don’t you both look handsome for your first day. Although that leather jacket has seen better days, Sirius. Do what you want for dinner, ask Chef, I don’t care. I’ll be at the House.”

The House. The House of Black, his mother’s million dollar fashion industry.

“Fine,” Regulus nodded, and rose. “I’ll take the first car.”

Sirius rolled his eyes again. “Really?”

Regulus just snatched up his backpack.

Saint, James, and Thomas were waiting for him on one of the courtyard tables when Sirius got out of the Escalade. It certainly felt like a first day of a semester. Saint’s neck dripped in gold necklaces—a story behind each one. Thomas, who had replaced his short braids with a closely shaved head, wore a white t-shirt and ripped up jean shorts, gold nose-ring glinting in the sun. James had evidently been helped out by Lily, as usual, a green, tight-fitting Henley shirt bunched up at his elbows. The two flanked Saint, who basked on top of the stone table, head tilted back to bare his throat in a way that made Sirius think of last night, in the back of the bar. He could see a purplish mark he had left there.

“You’re looking surprisingly chipper,” James said when Sirius reached Hogwarts’ courtyard.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, knowing he didn’t. “I’m not failing any classes yet, James.”

His friends went oddly silent. Sirius looked around at them, spreading his hands in confusion. Saint wouldn’t look at him, expression going oddly stoney. Thomas, finally, offered him his phone, biting his lip. Sirius took it.

His heart leapt to his throat. He didn’t even bother reading the Instagram caption. Remus loomed out at him from the phone screen.

“Leo Knut,” Saint said. “Who would have thought.”

Sirius cleared his throat and turned away from the picture—from Remus and Leo’s clasped hands.

“Why wouldn’t I be chipper?” he said again, and ignored their unconvinced expressions. “I’ve got class.”

Under his desk while he waited for the rest of the class to show, Sirius pulled out his phone and opened Instagram.

XOXO

Remus approached campus slowly. He felt like he didn’t know anyone anymore, even if he knew that wasn’t true. He thought he saw James from afar, but Lily and Kasey didn’t have class today.

Really, Remus didn’t know if he had many friends that weren’t…shared. That didn’t feel too close to home. Manhattan wasn’t that big of an island.

He looked down at his schedule he’d written out on his phone.

The 19th Century Novel - Hogsmeade R#302.

He made his way to the Hogsmeade building and climbed the spiral staircase quickly. It all felt too industrial, too metallic. At least he’d woken up with Leo, who still had the ancient air about him. He didn’t want that bubble to pop.

“Mr. Lupin,” Professor McGonagall beamed when he walked in, and Remus smiled, too at her familiar Scottish drawl. “It’s so very nice to have you back.”

“Hi, Professor. It’s good to be—”

But the words died on Remus’ tongue. He looked out at the small class—just twenty at this high level—and his heart, out of habit it seemed, had leapt at the sight of familiar dark hair.

Uh-oh. Looks like Pyramus and Thisbe are actually wishing for a wall between them this time.

Sirius’ hair was shorter than it had been at the end of sophomore year, the last time Remus had seen him. He wore a touch of a beard, too, just scruff, really, but it framed his silver eyes like darkness to the stars—two stars, which were zeroed in on Remus.

“Back,” Remus tried to recover, mouth dry. He sent McGonagall a shaky smile, and turned to find a seat, trying not to find those stars again.

He resisted the urge to close his eyes in defeat when he realized that there was only one left. He walked towards Sirius looking ahead and with his heart pounding. Leo. Leo making pancakes for him and Julian this morning. Leo making his little brother laugh. But he could smell the worn leather of Sirius’ jacket. He remembered the feel of it around his own shoulders. Are you cold, baby?

“All righty, then,” McGonagall stood from her chair and leaned against the front of her desk, looking down her spectacles at the attendance sheet. “Looks like we’re all here.”

XOXO

“Well?” Saint asked as Sirius took the joint from between his fingers.

“Sat down next to me,” Sirius said. “Didn’t say a fucking word.”

“Did you say a fucking word?” Saint raised his eyebrows.

Sirius blew out smoke. “No.”

“Well, all right, you fucking hypocrite.”

Sirius looked over at him from where they lay side by side, stretched out in the fading sunshine of Central Park. “I’m keeping this now.”

“No, you’re not. Did you pay for that? I don’t think so.”

Sirius scoffed. “Yeah, like this made a dent in the Montague treasuries.”

Saint laughed, tucking a palm behind his head. Sirius let his eyes linger on the strip of skin where his shirt rode up. He’d kissed that last night, too. It was nice with Saint. He’d been friends with him for longer than he could remember. Saint never looked for more. If Sirius snapped at him, he snapped back and then they laughed about it. Saint wandered through the world loving people freely. He kissed them, or he made them dinner, or he took them for long walks along the river. He showed them his favorite jazz club, or gave them the orgasm of their life, or read to them from his favorite books. He was New York in human form, accepting and inviting, living and breathing.

Sirius wished he was so trusting, even if trust seemed a funny word to apply to Saint.

No one ever got too close to either of them, except the other.

“What are you wearing to your mom’s fashion show?” Saint asked with his eyes closed. “It’s the event of the season.”

“Are you joking? The fittings started in July.”

“Mm, I love that,” Saint grinned, stretching. “Want to come help me decide what I’m wearing? We’re at the Plaza right now, you know that. You know my mother. If it’s not broken, break it. We’re renovating again. We can order champagne to the room.”

“Is that code for make out?”

“Partly. But I will be showing you my outfit choices.”

“Deal.”

XOXO

Remus made it back home seeing no one, but one of the butlers had an envelope with his name on it waiting for him.

“Thanks, Moody,” Remus murmured, but thought briefly about handing it right back to him.

He knew this invitation. He knew its black boarders and heavy stock. It came ever year.

It used to be something they had looked forward to.

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

invites you

TOUJOURS PUR

“Jesus,” Remus breathed, but took it up to his room, checking the time on the way. Julian would still be at school, his parents at work. This apartment was too big for the four of them, not to mention just Remus alone.

His suitcases still lay open and unpacked on his floor, and he kicked at one without looking up.

“So, did you just forget to mention that you were home?”

Remus spun towards his bed, only to find Lily sprawled across it and fiddling with an emerald on a chain.

“I had to find out from Gossip Girl?” Lily shook her head.

Remus slapped the invitation against his thigh. “Wow, wasn’t like that was a surprise present for you or anything.”

Lily smiled, red hair in a thick french braid. “I see green and I know it’s for me. What can I say?”

Remus huffed out a laugh, and she gave a small squeal and pushed off of the bed to wrap him in a hug.

“I’m so happy you’re home, Re.”

He let himself rest his chin in the crook of her neck for a moment. ‘Thanks, Lils.”

She pulled back, hands on his shoulders. “What, no, me too?”

“I am,” he said tentatively. “But I had fun in Rome.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Southern fun?”

“His name is Leo,” Remus said pointedly, then eyed the pile of garment bags piled high on the other side of his bed. “Are those…”

“Pour moi, et pour toi,” Lily patted his cheek. “We have a fashion show to go to, sweetheart.”

XOXO

What do we think, Courtiers? House of Black’s fashion show is the biggest event of the fall. But what on Earth does doe-eyed Remus Lupin have to do within that dark forest now?

Is he a Bambi, or still the wolf we knew?

You know you love me.

XOXO,

Gossip Girl

#between fifth and you lumosinlove #wolfstar #harry potter #gossip girl #Harry Potter x gossip girl #sirius black #remus lupin #cw: mention of sex #cw: drinking #cw: drugs #Harry Potter fic #the marauders #the marauders era #Harry Potter au #woflstar au

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jenstar1992-2 · 3 years

Text

Here with You

Pairing: Echo x reader/ Hunter x reader

Warnings: Mentions of nightmares/ trauma, reliving a traumatic experience, Order 66 (because it’s a warning in itself)

Word count: 7,103

A/N: Well, I knew it, it hasn’t been a whole day since I saw the Bad Batch premiere, and I’ve already gotten my first writing idea (yes, this took me like two days to write because I kept getting interrupted). I just couldn’t get the image of my poor baby Echo in that med bay and seeing the trauma those damned Separatists caused him out of my head. All I want to do is hold him and never let go, he deserves the world. This was originally just going to be an Echo x reader, but it turned into a Hunter x reader as well, because I just couldn’t help myself, I love them both, and wanted both of them to get some lovins. Also, I get the sense that Omega is a smart kid, and that she’s pretty well spoken, so I tried to write her as such, while still keeping that childlike innocence, so hopefully it comes across that way.

So much had transpired within the last few days and you were still trying to wrap your head around all of it. The jedi had been almost entirely wiped out in a single day, and while you were certain their had to be other survivors besides yourself, you were unclear as to what that number was. Luckily for you, you had been amongst friends when Order 66 was given, and your men turned on you. If it weren’t for the Bad Batch, you were certain you wouldn’t be alive right now.

As you sat in the cockpit of the Marauder, the memories began to flood your brain, which caused involuntary tears to fill your eyes.

You and your men had been sent to Kaller to aid Master Billaba and her troops. However, upon your arrival, you were greeted with a pleasant surprise. It turned out, Clone Force 99 had been on planet already and had taken out a large amount of the droids before you even landed.

You had worked with this group before and had even enjoyed the experience. While your men thought their tactics and unprofessional antics were unnecessary and even a bit annoying, you found the group to be, for lack of a better term, fun. You had been around stuffy, uptight individuals for so long, it was nice to have a change of pace, and while your men were great, they tended to be sticklers for the rules and rarely wanted to take risks.

You also got along with this team rather well, enough to consider them good friends, but you were especially close with their newest recruit. You and Echo had known each other well before he joined the Bad Batch, even before his accident at the citadel, and had been friends for just as long, although as time went by and you found yourself encountering him more and more in your life, you slowly realized you might feel more for the trooper than you should, more than you’d ever admit aloud. So, when you’d heard of his survival and rescue, you had been elated, and that happiness resurfaced at the thought of seeing him again.

You exited the gunship and saw the rag-tag group of clones speaking with Master Billaba on the now quiet battlefield. They turned as you and your men made your approach. As you got closer to the group, you scanned the faces of its members before you found him, smiling brightly as your eyes connected, he did the same.

You came to stand before their leader, raising your gaze to meet the man’s unwavering stare.

“Sergeant”, you greeted him, extending a hand formally, which he took without hesitation, shaking it firmly.

“General, good to see you again”, he said with a smile.

“You too”, you responded.

You’d always liked Hunter, from the beginning he’d always struck you as a respectable man, and you admired the fact that he could allow his men to be their reckless selves while also keeping them in line, but only when necessary, it seemed. There was something else too, something you hadn’t noticed right away, but after a few more encounters with the man, you put it together, coming to an all to familiar realization, one that brought butterflies to your stomach, while also bringing about a slight anxiety. How could you let this happen, it was bad enough falling for one man you couldn’t have, but two, you were sure the universe was out to hurt you.

“General (L/N), I’m glad to see your trip was a safe one, and better late than never I suppose”, Depa said, drawing you from Hunter’s gaze to hers.

“Sorry Master Billaba, we were assisting Masters Luminara and Yoda on Kashyyyk when we got word of your need for reinforcements, we got here as soon as we could”, you said, then looking around at the desolated droids scattered across the landscape. “Although, from what I can tell, you seem to now have a handle on things.”

“Yeah, thanks to these guys”, Caleb, Depa’s padawan, exclaimed, gesturing to the group of men before you. “You should’ve seen it, they took all those droids out in a matter of minutes, it was incredible.”

You chuckled. “Yes, I’m well aware of the marvel that is Clone Force 99, and they do put on quite the show”, you said, shooting a quick glance Echo’s way. “Incredible indeed.”

Your words caused the trooper to smile shyly at you.

“Yes, well, we’re still glad you’re here, we just launched a counterattack, and the more assistance, the better”, Depa said.

You nodded. “You need us, we’ll stay”, you said before turning to your troops. “Men, a counterattack has been launched, I want you to rendezvous with Master Billaba’s troops and aid in the attack, Commander Roran, you’re with me. Let’s move!”

With that your troops dispersed, leaving you and your commander where you stood. You turned back to face everyone.

“So, how can we help”, you asked.

“Actually, I don’t think we’ll be needing your assistance after all, in fact, this war might soon be over”, Tech spoke up, causing you to give him a confused look.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, according to the encrypted comm chatter, Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi has found and engaged General Grievous on Utapau”, he responded.

“If he captures, or kills Grievous, the separatist command structure will collapse”, Echo chimed in.

“And most likely the droid armies along with them”, Tech finished.

“It can’t be that easy, can it”, you asked, looking to the jedi master.

“While it is an interesting theory, I would not bet our hopes on it, we should focus on the task at hand”, she replied.

“I agree, we should focus our energy on this attack, strike while we have the advantage”, you said.

Hunter nodded. “Any orders, or shall we do what we do”, he asked, directing his words at Depa.

“What do you think General, should we let them ‘do what they do’”, she asked you.

You chuckled and folded your arms over your chest. “Probably our best bet, what do you think Caleb”, you asked the padawan.

“I say we let them, but only if I can go with them”, he responded.

You looked to his master, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Very well”, she said, giving the boy permission.

“Ronan and I will tag along too”, you stated, then looking to Hunter. “Just in case you guys need a hand.”

“Hope that wasn’t a jab at me”, Echo said, coming to stand beside you while simultaneously lifting his cybernetic arm.

You immediately regretted your choice in words and stammered your defense.

“N- no, I didn’t mean, I would never.”

He let out an amused laugh. “I’m just messing with you General, sorry”, he said.

You then scowled at him before poking a finger at his chest plate.

“Not funny”, you said, but couldn’t keep the smile from forming on your face.

“I said I was sorry”, you heard him say as you began walking in the direction your troops had gone. He soon caught up and walked alongside you.

You chuckled. “Well, it’s nice to know you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

“Nah, but I did lose a couple other things”, he said, face turning slightly serious.

You stopped walking and just stood for a moment, a sad expression now adorning your features. Noticing your actions, Echo ceased his movements as well and looked back to you.

“What is it”, he asked.

You went to stand in front of him before you spoke your next words. “Echo, I am sorry for your loss, truly I am, but honestly, I’d rather you be here and missing a few limbs, then for you to not be here at all. I’m just glad your alive, and that I get to see you again.”

He stared at you for a moment with an unreadable expression before smiling and nodding.

“I guess you’re right, and I’m glad our paths crossed again, I…”, he began, clearly wanting to say more, but stopping himself. You caught on though and decided to voice it for him.

“I missed you too”, you said, giving him a warm smile, prompting one of his own.

You both began walking once more to catch up with your comrades.

“You know, I was actually surprised you recognized me, what with the countless differences and all” he said with a chuckle.

You shook your head. “You can change all you want, I’ll still know it’s you”, you said.

“Yeah?”

“Yep, you might’ve changed a lot on the outside, but inside, you’re still the same Echo I’ve always known and loved”, you said, saying the words before they fully registered with your brain, but once they did you nearly froze in your stacks, your face instantly reddening with embarrassment. You quickly tried to back track before he could respond. “I mean, uh, well, y- you know what I mean.” Smooth.

He chuckled, amused at your obvious embarrassment of your less-than-ideal choice of words yet again.

“It’s okay, I know what you mean”, he said, giving you a reassuring smile before seemingly letting the subject drop, much to your relief.

You nodded as you carried on toward the others.

Suddenly, a wave of emotions flooded your mind, and it was as if hundreds of voices were crying out within the confines of your skull. You stopped, placing a hand to the side of your head in an attempt to stop the dizziness that accompanied the voices.

Echo noticed and came to your side, placing a steadying hand to your back.

“Are you okay”, he asked, clearly concerned.

“S- somethings wrong, I feel… death, so much death, I don’t know…”, you began through heavy breathes, but you were soon cut off by the sound of blaster fire.

You both looked to see Master Billaba’s men attempting to gun her down as she deflected their blasts with her lightsaber. Before you could fully process the sight in front of you, you heard Caleb yell for his master, seeing him rush past you, saber ignited and ready to jump to her aid.

“Caleb, no…”, you shouted, but before you could run after him a burning pain in your left arm stopped you.

You grabbed your now wounded arm and turned to see Roran facing you, blaster raised and aimed directly at you.

“Commander”, you said in confusion, but before you could get another word out, he was firing again. You were able to deflect the blasts with your saber, yelling at him as you did so. “Roran, why are you doing this?”

Suddenly, the blasts stopped as Echo came to your aid, wrestling the blaster out of the commander’s hands before knocking him out cold. He then rushed to your side once more, seeing you kneeling and clutching your head.

“General, (Y/N), (Y/N), can you hear me? Say something”, he urged, but try as you might, you couldn’t form the words to respond.

Your head was swimming in a sea of pain, death, and betrayal, most of which you were certain weren’t coming from you, more like from the force itself. You’d felt disturbances in the force before, but none like this, it was all encompassing and soon you found yourself slipping from consciousness from the intensity of it all.

***

When you finally came to, you found yourself laying in a bunk aboard the Havoc Marauder. When you tried to sit up a hand caught your shoulder and gently coaxed you back down.

“Easy (Y/N), you don’t want to push yourself, you sustained a pretty bad injury, you should rest”, a familiar voice said softly.

“Echo, what, what happened… they turned on us, why would they do that”, you asked, looking at him with confusion and sadness mixing in your expression.

“I don’t know, we’re still trying to figure that out ourselves, but you’re safe now, I won’t let them hurt you again, you have my word. Now rest”, he said, trying to comfort you, but knowing it wouldn’t help much given what you’d just been through.

“No”, you heard someone say, the volume of it startling you slightly, and you looked to see that it was Hunter, who had just entered.

“What do you mean ‘no’”, Echo asked him, confused.

“I mean, she can’t stay here, it’s not safe”, he explained, and when you both gave him a befuddled look, he continued, “It’s Crosshair, there’s… something wrong with him. I think whatever happened to those soldiers is happening to him too, but I can’t be sure.”

“What makes you think that”, you questioned, finally sitting up and turning to place your feet on the floor.

He looked behind him, making sure you three were the only ones in ear shot before bending down to your level.

“He tried to kill that padawan”, he said, so low it was almost a whisper.

“Caleb, is he alright”, you asked, fear and concern thick in your voice.

“He’s alive, but other than that, I’m not sure. He ran off after…”, he began, but the words died on his lips.

You nodded in understanding. “So, what should I do, where should I go?”

“Stay here, on Kaller, find somewhere to hide. We’ll go back to Kamino and sort this out, once it’s safe, we’ll come back for you”, he said.

You nodded, agreeing to do as he said, knowing you really had no other option at this point.

Shortly after this conversation you readied yourself to leave, Tech giving you some medical supplies in case you would need to re-bandage your arm before they returned.

Echo ended up accompanying you in your search for shelter, telling the others he wasn’t going anywhere until he knew you’d found somewhere safe to stay. You had resisted the gesture, wanting him to get as far away from danger as possible, but he insisted.

You found a cave a few miles from the ship’s current location and decided it was as good a place as any to crash for, what you were hoping would only be, a few days.

“You sure you’re going to be okay here”, Echo asked, looking into the cold, dark cave.

“I’ll be fine, I’ve stayed in worse places. Besides, it’s the safest place we’ll find in the wilderness, and it’s dark, perfect for hiding”, you said in a poor attempt to lighten the mood, you didn’t know why, force of habit you guessed. Although, all this earned you was a sad smile from the trooper.

“We’ll be back soon, just stay out of sight until then, okay?”

You gave a small smile, bringing your hand up to your forehead for a two fingered salute. “Yes sir”, you said. This actually earned you a small laugh, which at this moment was music to your ears. You lowered your hand and looked into his eyes, taking on a more serious expression. “Just… be safe.”

“I should be telling you that”, he said.

“Yeah, well, I beat you to it”, you said, half grinning.

“I will if you will.”

You nodded. “Then I will.”

Suddenly your body was moving without you telling it to, and you found yourself wrapping him in a tight hug, closing your eyes to keep from crying, and soon the gesture was returned, leaving the both of you in a long embrace.

“Don’t forget me, okay”, you said, the threat of tears evident in your voice.

He squeezed you a little tighter. “Never.”

***

Turns out, you didn’t have to hide out in that cave long at all, as they had returned to retrieve you within two days’ time, with a new crew member, but without Crosshair. You two hadn’t been the best of friends by any means, and the man’s standoffishness really irked you sometimes, but you’d always known that deep down, he wasn’t such a bad guy. So, when the boys had told you what had happened between their return to Kamino and their escape from the planet, it put a surprising strain on your heart. You wanted to be angry with Crosshair for his actions, for attempting to kill Caleb and other innocents, but you just couldn’t, especially after you were informed of the inhibitor chips planted within every clone trooper. You couldn’t be mad at him, you couldn’t hate him, because it wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t any of their faults, they were being used just like the jedi had been, if not more so, and this knowledge extinguished any hatred that had grown in you since the day that order was given.

Thinking back on all of this had you shedding silent tears as you watched the streaks of light pass before your eyes, attempting to let yourself to be swept away in the beauty that was hyperspace. This always seemed to calm your mind, but it didn’t seem to be working this time, so you simply stared and let the tears run down your cheeks.

“Hey, you okay”, Hunter asked from the seat beside you, having temporarily taken over piloting the ship in order to allow the others to rest.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by his words and quickly wiped the tears from your face before answering.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, still just trying to figure all of this out”, you replied somberly.

He nodded. “I understand, we still don’t have it all figured out either and with every answer comes new questions”, he said.

You hummed in agreement. “I guess my biggest question is, why now, why did Palpatine wait so long to put this grand plan in action? I mean, he could’ve done it years ago, but no, he waited… waited for us to get close to those who would eventually become our executioners, and worse, he took away their free will to do it. Those troopers, they weren’t the men they used to be, it’s like they were brainwashed.”

“Tech said they were programmed and when the chips were activated, it basically took over their minds, so I guess, in a way, they are brainwashed”, Hunter said, looking back out at the blue glow of hyperspace.

“Those poor men”, you said after a moment of silence.

Hunter turned his head to look at you, an astonished expression over his features, he then let out an amused huff.

“You are truly a wonder, you know that?”

“What”, you asked him, confused by the comment.

“Even after everything you’ve been through, and after what they did to you and your kin, you still feel pity for them”, he explained. “You’ve always been able to see people for who they really are, and forgive them for their faults, it’s commendable, and it’s something I’ve always admired about you.”

“You admire me”, you asked, raising an eyebrow and grinning in amusement.

He gave you a single nod. “Always have”, he said, giving you a soft smile.

The way he was looking at you made your cheeks begin to heat as a light blush covered them, and you turned away in an attempt to hide it, but he noticed, and his smile widened a bit as he looked back out the view port.

“I think you’re right by the way, about Palpatine waiting so long to execute his plan. I think he wanted you all to build those relationships, that trust, with your men, so that, when the time came, he could not only take you all out, but destroy your conviction as well”, he said, his voice lower than before.

“That’s a bit ominous, given our current situation”, you said, only half joking.

He turned to you suddenly, eyebrows raised in mild shock.

“(Y/N), you don’t think we’d… we’d never hurt you, I’d never hurt you, we’re on your side, I promise”, he said, hurt in his eyes. Did you really not trust him?

Seeing his reaction made your heart squeeze, you hadn’t meant to hurt him, you were just confused and scared. You felt as if your whole world had come crumbling down around you, and you were still trying to resurface from the rubble. But you knew you were wrong for thinking, even for a second, that you couldn’t trust Hunter and his men.

“I know, I’m sorry. I do trust you, all of you”, you said, trying to sound reassuring, but it only came out as sadness.

It looked as if the sergeant was contemplating something, his hands reflexively grabbing at nothing as they opened and closed on his lap. You knew he wanted to do something, wanted to comfort you, but he also didn’t want to invade your space, worried that would be crossing a line. So, you took the initiative.

You reached over and took one of his hands from his lap, holding it softly before giving it a reassuring squeeze and sending a smile his way. This prompted him to smile back, and you both just sat like that for a minute.

Suddenly, you heard a commotion from the bunks, and your name being called out by a desperate voice.

Recognizing the voice, you jumped up from your seat. “Echo”, you said, concern in your tone, before looking back to Hunter.

He simply nodded. “Go”, he said softly.

You gave a confirming nod and let go of the hand you’d still been holding, before quickly making your way to the bunks.

When you entered the room, it took you a second to assess the situation before you. Echo was laying in his bunk, breathing heavy, head shaking from side to side, and body trembling, as if he were in a state of terror. All this while Omega stood by the bunk, watching with concern. She looked back to you when you entered, then ran to you.

“I tried to wake him, but it’s not working, he keeps calling for you, you’ve got to do something”, she said in a rush, voice and eyes full or worry for her new friend.

You bent down to her level and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, I know what to do, you go wait with Hunter, okay? Everything will be fine”, you told her, attempting to quell her worry.

You then stood and made your way to Echo, sitting on the edge of the bunk and looking over him with your own worried expression. You really didn’t know what to do, you’d never been faced with something like this before. He was clearly having a terrible nightmare, and you wanted to help, so you just acted on instinct.

You placed a hand on his shoulder and shook lightly, softly calling his name, trying to wake him as gradually as you could, as you figured startling him awake would be counterproductive. However, this didn’t seem to work, and hearing your voice only caused him to say your name more. Seeing him like this broke your heart, and for a moment you felt totally helpless, but then you had an idea. You moved your hand from his shoulder, bringing it to cup the side of his face, your thumb instinctually beginning to rub soothing circles on his cheek, and you bent down to speak quietly in his ear.

“Echo, it’s (Y/N). You don’t have to be scared, I’m here, I won’t let them hurt you anymore”, you said, gently grabbing his flesh hand with your free one and holding it to your chest. “I’m here for you, I’ll always be right here with you, it’s okay. Wake up Love. Come back to me.”

As you spoke you could see him slowly calm, and with your final request, his eyes fluttered open, finding yours instantly.

“There you are”, you said softly, a smile spreading over your face. You were just relieved that the nightmare was over, and he seemed to be calming more with each passing second.

As he took in your presence before him, he let out a relieved sigh, but then looked to you with a strained expression.

“(Y/N), I… I was back, back with them, back to that day, I… I didn’t know how or why, and I just…”, he said in a desperate rush.

You shushed him, and let your hand continue to stay where it was in an attempt to sooth the frightened man lying next to you.

“I know, it’s okay, you’re okay now, you’re here with me, you’re safe, I promise”, you reassured him.

This seemed to work, and he let out another sigh as he closed his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing once again, coming back to a steady pattern in no time. When he opened his eyes again, he noticed the position you both were in; you were sitting very close beside him, one hand resting on his cheek, while the other held his hand close to your heart, with his clutching yours in return, like you were his lifeline, which he had to admit, wasn’t far from the truth. You were the one he could trust without question, the one he could confide in, always had been.

You noticed this too and immediately went to pull away, slowly dropping his hand as you did, cheeks now burning. You didn’t get very far though, before he grabbed your wrist with his newly freed hand. “No”, he said, and pulled the hand back towards his head, coaxing you to return it to its previous spot. “Don’t stop… please.”

You stared at him for a moment with an unreadable expression, before finally giving him a tentative nod and continuing your earlier action of rubbing your thumb in circles on his cheek. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the pillow, relaxing easily under your touch, this causing you to smile, glad you could be of comfort to him. You stayed like this for a while before your curiosity got the best of you and you voiced the question that had been on your mind since you first heard him call your name.

“Echo”, you said in a questioning tone. He hummed in response, not opening his eyes. “Why, why me?”

He looked at you then, confused. “What do you mean?”

“When you were having your nightmare, you, you called out for me, I was just wondering, why me”, you explained.

“I did”, he asked.

“Yeah, quite a few times actually. Was I in your dream or something?”

He looked away, a bit embarrassed.

“Not exactly”, he said.

You used the hand that was still on him to lightly pull his head to face you, speaking once his eyes were fixed on yours once again.

“Echo, you know you can tell me anything. What is it”, you asked.

“You weren’t in the dream, technically, and it wasn’t really a dream, more like I was reliving a memory, the memory of the citadel, and…”, he explained, his words dying off as he found it hard to voice them.

You placed a reassuring hand on his chest and gave him a nod in understanding.

“So, you were reliving that day, I’m sorry, I know that can’t be easy. But I still don’t see what that has to do with me, I wasn’t there, if I had been, I would’ve taken that blow for you”, you said, suddenly feeling tears behind your eyes, but you fought them back internally.

His eyes widened and he quickly grabbed your hand from its spot on his chest, squeezing it firmly.

“No, don’t say that”, he said urgently, suddenly sitting up, causing your hand to slip from his face, instead falling to rest at the intersection of his shoulder and neck.

“But…”, you tried to say, but he cut you off.

“No (Y/N), I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, least of all on you”, he said, staring directly into your eyes. You could only nod sadly as you tried to keep your emotions in check, which was getting harder as this interaction continued. He then softened his gaze and let out a long breath. “You were there, in a way.”

You gave him a confused look, about to ask what he meant, until he continued.

“After the explosion, I just laid there for a long time, feeling everything and nothing all at the same time, I was basically just waiting to die”, he told you. Your heart squeezed at his words, as the tears threatened to rise. “But then, I heard someone’s voice calling out to me, your voice. You were telling me not to give up, not to leave you, to keep fighting, and so I did. I bared the pain and rejected the urge to just slip away, even after they took me, I fought through all of it, because I knew that if I survived, then there was a chance I’d make it back to you, and… I really wanted that.”

That’s all it took, his words hit you straight in the chest and flowed through you, causing the flood gates to release and the tears to fall. Echo looked worried then and released your hand, bringing his to cup your cheek, wiping the tears away with his thumb.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad”, he said, internally wishing he hadn’t said anything.

You shook your head. “You have nothing to be sorry for, and I’m not sad that you told me, I’m glad you did”, you said, wiping the tears from the other side of your face. “Honestly, I’m just happy your alive, and that you did find your way back to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life. When I heard what happened on Lola Sayu I couldn’t believe it at first, it didn’t feel real, but once I accepted it was… I had never felt true grief until that moment, and the sense of longing was almost unbearable. All I kept thinking was how I was angry with myself for wasting the time I had with you, lying. Lying to you, and to myself.”

“What are you talking about, lying about what”, he asked, sliding his hand down to hook a finger around your chin and turn your face back to face him after you’d turned it away during your confession.

You took a deep breath before speaking next. “I lied to you before, when I acted like that slip up was just a poor choice of words, I meant exactly what I said. See, the truth is, I was upset with myself because I never told you…”, you paused, finding this confession to be much harder than you had thought it would be to get out, “never told you that I…”

After another long pause, Echo decided to take the initiative, seeing as he knew exactly what you wanted to say, as it was the same thing he’d wanted to say to you all that time ago, still did. He used the hand that had a hold of your chin to pull you to him as he caught your lips in a kiss, one that while soft, was full of so much emotion it was almost palpable. You were surprised at first, but soon melted into the kiss, feeling completely content with staying there as long as possible.

Much too soon for your liking, Echo pulled away, but only to place his forehead against yours and let the long overdue words slip from his lips. “I love you too.”

Your smile reached your ears as his words filled you with untainted happiness, which prompted him to smile widely himself. Why had you both waited so long to do this, you didn’t know, but you were glad it was finally happening.

“Why did we spend all that time hiding, when we could’ve just done this”, you asked.

He chuckled. “Because we were both cowardly idiots”, he said.

You hummed in agreement. “I still can’t believe you did all that for me”, you said in a more serious tone.

He pulled back to look into your eyes. “Of course I did… I’d do anything for you (Y/N)”, he told you.

“Anything?”

He nodded in response and you smiled again.

“Kiss me again”, you said, it was more of a request than a demand.

He smiled and pulled you close so your face was mere inches from his.

“Yes Ma’am.”

***

It had been a good fifteen minutes since the cries had stopped and no noise could be heard from Echo’s bunk. Omega was no longer worried, knowing you had it handled, but her curiosity was starting to get the best of her.

“What do you think their talking about in there, it’s so quiet, maybe I should…”, she said as she got up from the co-pilot seat, moving in the direction of the bunks, but she was stopped by a hand grabbing her forearm, causing her to turn and stare at Hunter questioningly.

“Don’t, they’re fine, and it’s none of our business what their talking about, so just let them be, alright”, he said, giving her a warning look, one that wasn’t all that intimidating to the young girl, but she listened nonetheless and returned to her seat.

After a moment she spoke again, not being able to take the silence any longer.

“So, what’s the deal with those two, are they together, or is it some secret that everyone knows about except them”, she asked the sergeant.

Hunter laughed, this kid really was perceptive, not that anyone with eyes couldn’t see the attraction between you and Echo, it had always seemed so obvious to him, which is why he never spoke on his own feelings for you.

“Yeah, there seem to be… unspoken feelings between the two of them, but I’m sure they’ll get their acts together soon enough, especially now that they’ll be around each other more often”, he told her.

She thought on this for a moment before responding.

“I think so too… and what about you”, Omega asked him.

“What about me?”

“Are you going to get your act together as well”, she asked, raising her eyebrow and grinning at him.

“What are you talkin’ about kid”, Hunter asked, wondering if she’d somehow figured it out.

“Seriously, I’ve only just got here and I can see it”, she said.

“See what?”

“That Echo isn’t the only one who has feelings for the general.”

Hunter turned to the young clone, a look of surprise on his face. Very perceptive indeed.

“Why don’t you just tell her, at least one of you should pluck up the courage to do it”, she said.

He exhaled heavily as his features returned to a more neutral expression.

“It’s not that simple kid, there are just some things you’re not old enough to understand. Besides, it’s not reciprocated so there’s really no point, she’s made her choice, and I have to respect that”, he explained, hoping that would be that. However, he wasn’t going to be that lucky.

“Your wrong”, Omega said simply.

“What?”

“Your wrong, those feelings, they are reciprocated, yeah she likes Echo, but she likes you too.” She said it with such confidence that it made him wonder if the statement was true.

“Really, and how do you know that”, he asked, an almost sarcastic tone in his voice.

She shrugged. “Female intuition.”

He raised a suspicious brow at her but decided not to think too much on it.

“Hm, well, even if you are right, she’s still made her choice, and I won’t get in the way.”

“Won’t get in the way of what?”

Your voice made both of them jump a little. You had just made your way back to the cockpit and had clearly overheard the last bit of their conversation.

“Nothing”, Hunter said, watching you come to stand beside Omega, perching your arm on the headrest of the co-pilot chair and leaning on it.

“Really? Didn’t sound like nothing”, you said, raising your eyebrow in suspicion.

Omega suddenly perked up and turned in her chair to look up at you.

“Hey (Y/N), do you think it’s possibly for someone to love more than one person at a time”, she asked.

You were a bit taken aback by the question, but figured you’d answer, seeing as how you were being very honest today.

“Yes, I do, it actually happens a lot more often than you think”, you responded, purposefully avoiding Hunter’s gaze as you looked at the child.

“And what does that person do, you know, when they realize they have feelings for more than one person”, she then asked.

“Well, usually that person then has a decision to make, and they just hope they don’t break any hearts in the process. You see, love can be a tricky endeavor. However, I think if someone does fall for two individuals at once, then there are other options”, you said, rather matter-of-factly, given the topic at hand.

“Like what?”

“Those involved could always enter into a relationship all together, I suppose”, you said, wondering just how far she was going to take this conversation.

“And that would work”, she asked, seeming almost hopeful.

“It’s possible, yes, but only if all members involved are okay with it. They all need to know that’s what’s going on, and there can’t be any secrets”, you explained.

“Huh, I guess that makes sense”, Omega said, seeming content with your explanation. Then another thought seemed to hit her. “Hey (Y/N)?”

You hummed in response.

“Have you ever been in love”, she asked curiously.

“Omega”, Hunter said firmly, giving her another look of warning.

“No, no, it’s fine”, you informed him, not wanting him to reprimand the girl for just being curious. “To answer your question Omega, yes, yes I have.”

“With more than one person”, she continued.

You raised an eyebrow at her and crossed your arms over your chest.

“What’s with the twenty questions, am I being interrogated or something”, you asked, only half joking.

She shook her head. “No, just curious is all.”

“Uh huh, well why don’t you stow that curiosity away for later and go get some rest, it’s quiet now”, you told her.

“What did you do, I mean, how did you get him to stop”, she asked as she stood from her seat.

“I just let him know that he was safe, and that there was nothing to be afraid of”, you said, which wasn’t a complete lie.

“That’s it”, she asked.

You nodded. “That’s it.”

She gave you a look of suspicion but didn’t act on it.

“Okay”, she said, drawing out the word, and made her way to exit the cockpit.

“Sleep tight”, you called after her as she disappeared down the small corridor. You then turned back to the view port and took a seat in the now empty chair, sighing heavily before finally looking to Hunter. “Well, that was interesting, care to tell me what that was all about?”

“Not really”, he said, turning back to face forward.

You raised a brow. “Seriously?”

He shrugged and kept his gaze where it was.

You sighed again and leaned back in your chair. “Alright then, but I think it’s worth mentioning that the kid knows what she’s talking about, you might want to listen to her every now and then, she’s quite intuitive.”

He looked to you then, confusion on his brow.

“What do you mean”, he asked.

You laughed. “I mean, what she said about me is true”, you said.

His eyes widened a bit. “You, you heard that”, he asked, and you nodded in response. “How much of it?”

“Enough”, you said simply.

He looked away again as he spoke. “Then you know it doesn’t matter how I feel, you’ve made your choice, and I’m okay with that, I’ll have to be”, he said, trying to keep up this act of indifference.

You turned in your seat to face him. “You keep saying that, but, what if I don’t want to choose, because how you feel does matter, Hunter. At least, to me it does.”

He turned his head to meet your gaze. “What exactly are you proposing”, he asked.

“Nothing yet, just letting you know that, I know, and that the feelings are mutual.”

He smiled at this and nodded his understanding.

“What about Echo, have you told him yet”, he asked.

“We talked, and confessions were made… finally”, you said with a smile.

You both laughed then, happy to finally air things out a bit, all the pent-up emotions were wearing on all of you it seemed, and it felt nice to not have to hide it anymore.

“How do you think he’ll feel about your non-proposed proposal”, he asked with a grin.

“I don’t know, but we’re all adults, we can sit down and have a civilized conversation about this, and… we’ll figure this all out”, you told him.

He gave an amused huff. “You make it sound so formal.”

You nodded and gave a light chuckle. “At first, yeah, but I get the feeling that once this proposal is made, all persons involved will be… willing to give it a try”, you said, taking his hand and holding it in both of yours. “Then things will get more… informal.”

He smiled. “Yeah, how can you be so sure”, he asked, leaning toward you.

You smiled back and leaned in as well, your faces now only inches apart.

“Female intuition”, you whispered, your smile turning a bit smug.

He chuckled in amusement. “You’re ridiculous”, he said, before closing the gap between you.

The kiss was sweet and felt just as right as the ones you’d had with Echo, and just like those ones, this kiss ended all to quickly, but you were content to sit back and bask in the afterglow, you didn’t want to rush things after all.

You both sat there a moment, leaning back in your seats, staring out the view port, arms stretched as your hands sat, intertwined, between you. Maybe this really could work, only time would tell.

After what felt like hours, but in reality, had only been minutes, Hunter looked to you with a soft smile.

“I’m glad you’re here with us”, he said.

You smiled back and gave his hand a light squeeze.

“Me too”, you said, and you both stayed like that for a long while, enjoying a view you each thought was much better than the one outside the view port.

Little did you know, behind you Omega stood at the entrance of the cockpit, looking on silently and grinning from ear to ear, feeling quite pleased with herself.

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garbagevanfleet · 3 years

Text

Brightest Blue (series)

SURPRISE VALENTINE’S DAY UPDATE!

PART FIVE

Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: flirting, alcohol, mentions of smoking Summary: Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place. Notes: This chapter is so cute to me. Pajama party anyone? As always, thanks to the actual best editor alive today, @lantern-inthenight

MASTER POST

taglist: @valleyd0ll @satingrass-maidensfair @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @peaceisouranthem @oblvions @hansonobsessed

@bigblack-catattack @myownparadise96 @lara-gvf @anditsmywholeheart @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies

It was undeniable that winter was on its way. The weekend brought predictions for temps in the lower 40’s and, even in the warmth of the apartment, you felt perpetually chilled.

Kate had messaged you late on Friday asking if you wanted to get coffee Saturday morning, and you had excitedly agreed to meet her at the local cafe called The Daily Grind (which, admittedly, you chose because of the cute name).

She had seen you bundled up like a burrito in two sweatshirts and a long-sleeved tee underneath and laughed, but you explained to her how you had never really been in temps this cold before.

Your fingers were wrapped as tight as they could go around your mocha as you watched her sip her black coffee, her maroon-painted lips leaving a mark on the white mug.

“When we’re done here, would you want to go with me to a thrift store? My mom sent some money for me to buy warmer clothes when she saw the weather for this area,” you said with an excited tone. “She’s afraid I’m going to get pneumonia.”

She hummed in an interested tone. “That sounds like fun. Which one do you wanna check out first?”

“You’ve been around here longer, so I’ll let you pick.”

“The one on Maple is the one where all the rich sorority girls go, so I bet you’d find some good stuff there,” she informed, tapping her nails against the ceramic.

You beamed a smile, relishing in the sunny feeling that only spending time with other girls gave you. “You wanna drive or me?”

+++

“Do you think if I buy a pair of jeans a size too big I could get away with wearing leggings under them?” you asked, flicking through the hangers. “I feel like the wind here cuts right through my denim.”

“Maybe two sizes bigger so you can wear sweatpants.” You knew she was teasing you by her playful tone, but that was actually kind of brilliant, you thought. “You should try this one.”

You had to get onto your tippy toes to see her over the long rack. She was holding up a soft-looking sweater, multicolored horizontal stripes running across the fabric. The color pattern reminded you of Twiggy from the ’60s.

“It’s cute,” you agreed, taking it as she handed it to you. By the time you were ready for a fitting room, you had a pile of things and the employee on duty looked not very excited to have to put them back when you were done, but luckily she wouldn’t have to. Pretty much everything fit perfectly.

You were shocked to see the total - where you were from, all of that would have been well over $60, even second hand, but you ended up forking over a measly $35, and you figured most of that total was from the nearly new jacket you had found.

As she was driving you back to the coffee shop, you exclaimed giddily, “I’m so excited to have warm clothes. Now Josh can finally have his sweatshirts back.”

She looked over at you surprisedly. “That’s Josh’s?”

“Yeah, he gave me three and I’ve been alternating between them.” You reached forward to turn her radio up a notch, Janet Jackson’s “All For You” perking your ears.

“Are you sure he wants them back?” she asked, giving you a coy smile that you didn’t understand.

You adopted a puzzled look. If she was alluding to something, it was lost on you. “Why wouldn’t he? They’re still perfectly fine - I was even careful not to get my perfume on them.”

Now stopped at a red light, she turned to give you a squinty look until she seemed to realize you were serious. “Nevermind,” she relented, smirking forward at the road.

When you got back home, Josh was gone. You shot him a message inquiring as to his whereabouts and started snipping the tags off of your new clothes with a pair of pruning shears. You were exponentially grateful for the fact that the washing machine in your building had been repaired - and with a shocking amount of haste too.

The smell of the laundry room down the hall was pleasant. It reminded you of the times when your mom would wash all the towels and blankets in the house, and that was a job that either required a laundromat, or an entire day switching loads.

At the end of your shopping day, you made out with three new sweaters, two pairs of thicker jeans, a new coat, a winter hat, and an actual pajama set, which would be infinitely warmer than the shorts and tank top you’d moved in with.

You cheerily popped your new clothes into the washer, along with a tide pod, some of your bras and underwear, and closed the lid.

Around 1 pm, Josh still wasn’t back and hadn’t replied, so you decided it was a perfect time to work on some self-care. The yoga mat you had packed had yet to see the light of day in Michigan, so you dug it out, unrolled it in your room, changed into some easy clothing, and pulled up a beginner’s tutorial on your phone. By the thirty-minute mark, you were sweating and tired, but the stretch in your muscles was oddly pleasant on top of the discomfort, so you pushed yourself to keep going until the video was done. The cute blonde running the tutorial suggested you take some time in your cool down to look inward, as she thought that was a big part of yoga. So, you laid there on the mat, staring up at your ceiling for a good, long while, just taking time to reflect and enjoying it.

Your room, and the whole apartment really, had become home so quickly. You hadn’t ever had the opportunity to test the theory before, but you had always imagined that leaving home would make you feel out of place.

But you didn’t.

Sure, you missed home in the way that any human that came from a loving and supporting family would, but you were expecting to ache for it. You had taken a long time in your backyard and in your favorite spot back home, just so you could have a final fix, but all that was to you now was a fond memory.

After a few moments of being alone with your thoughts, you were going to get up and take a shower, but you had decided to postpone it. While you were staring up at the ceiling, you realized that there was a lot of unused space that the sun hit toward the top of the room. Wasted sun was a felony in your book. You spent about an hour pulling down your curtain rod, removing the fabric, and replacing it with hanging pots of all sizes and lengths.

Your string of hearts, your pearls, your golden pothos - the thought of them being the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes in the morning was one that made you feel sentimental. You’d just have to be careful with watering.

Once you were satisfied with the placements, you made your way to the bathroom. As you waited for the shower to heat up to a tolerable temperature, you took some time to pluck any stray hairs around your eyebrows and gently brush the knots out of your hair. Self-care had always felt like a long term investment to you - one well worth it.

The warm spray of the shower felt amazing on your tired muscles, so you took your sweet time getting clean and enjoying it, then blow-drying your hair on low heat when you were finished. After, you excitedly got out your new pajama set, clipped the tags, and put it on.

Shortly thereafter, you heard a key slip into the lock on the front door. You were cuddled up on the couch, enjoying the feel of the soft fabric on your freshly scrubbed skin as you watched through the complete second season of the Simpsons, popcorn in your lap.

When he stepped into the house, he raised his eyebrows at you, surveying the area.

“What?” you asked, giving him a confused look.

“Just looking for the books and the homework.” You rolled your eyes at him before he continued on with, “I just always assumed that when I wasn’t around, you were doing boring, adult things.”

You gave him a playful shrug as you gestured to the noticeably book free space around you.

He squinted at you suddenly. “Are you in your pajamas? You know it’s like 3:30 in the afternoon, right?”

“They’re new!” you quipped. “And I was excited to wear them. You don’t have to be jealous, you could go get yours on and join me.”

The offer seemed to be tempting him. “I have a better idea. How about you go change, and we’re going to go to a party tonight.”

You scowled at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Are you crazy? I’m already in my pajamas. I’ve already taken my bra off! Once it’s off, it doesn’t go back on.”

He laughed, loud and unabashed, showing you all of his teeth. The sound made your cheeks flush.

“C’mon, I bet Kate will be there,” he reasoned. “And I obviously will be. And I’m positive Jake will be too. This might be your chance to get them to hook up.”

You bit your bottom lip in consideration. “The timing would be kinda perfect; she could have the whole day tomorrow to process it and then tell me about it on Monday.”

He was smirking at you when you looked back up at him, making you tuck your hair behind your ear anxiously. “If I come, do you promise not to leave me alone?”

He nodded at you confidently. “I will not leave you.”

The very first thing you did was message Kate. It was vital that she was there, just in case Josh got too drunk to remember his promise. You didn’t have a hard time socializing, per-say. You were just nervous about your first real social event here.

Josh was right though - it wouldn’t kill you to make some more friends.

When you were in the bathroom brushing your teeth, Kate messaged back saying that she would never miss getting to see you drunk, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her you had to drive, so you opted to leave that part out. You worked on picking out a good, sensible outfit and took your time to put on makeup again. Admittedly, it felt kind of nice - you used to wear a full beat all the time, but somewhere along the line it started to feel tedious, which is something you never wanted any of your favorite things to feel, so you put the whole idea of it on the shelf for a while.

When you finally emerged from your room around 8, Josh was sitting on the kitchen counter, phone in his hands as he furiously typed out a message. You listened to the pleasant sound of his fingers tapping on the glass screen for a moment before speaking.

“Who are you messaging?” you asked, but it didn’t grab his full attention right away.

“Just one of the other theater guys,” he said through a near sneer. The only time you ever saw him looking distressed was when it came to his production. “Trying to tell me what I can and can’t do with my own production-”

When he looked up at you the rest of his thoughts seemed to escape him, all the emotion in his face and posture crumbling away.

You folded your hands together, giving him a concerned look. “Are you okay?”

He tucked his phone into the pocket of his pants, abandoning whatever he had been so intent on doing just seconds ago.

“Yeah, I just haven’t ever seen you dressed up before.”

The extra attention made you slump back against the hallway wall, giving him a nervous grimace. Through pursed lips, you asked, “Is it too much?”

His eyes popped open, along with his mouth. It took him a moment to speak actual words - like he wanted to say a lot all at once. “What? No! I’m just stupid,” he assured, running his fingers through his curls. “It took my brain a moment to process.”

You gave him a forgiving smile, opening the fridge and grabbing out a carton of juice. He watched as you took a swig, letting you swallow before asking, “Do you want me to drive?”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise, finger swiping away a stray droplet. “Can you?”

“Drive?” he laughed. “Yes. I can drive.”

“Legally?” you pressed, handing over the carton to him when you caught him eyeing it. He took a drink right from the spout as well, giving you a wink that made you lovingly roll your eyes.

+++

You two seemed to unintentionally match. He was in a pair of khaki pants, a black long-sleeved shirt, and a denim jacket on top. You were positive he was going to freeze solid one of these days because he always seemed to be way underdressed for the weather.

As you went to get out of the car, he stopped you with a touch to your knee. “You should take off your jacket and hat and leave them in here; I wouldn’t ever trust leaving them unattended at a party.” He paused before speaking again. “Not that anyone would necessarily steal them, just that people get drunk and think stuff is theirs.”

“Like you did with the wallet?” you teased, making him rub at the back of his neck.

“Yes,” he said pointedly through a grin. “Like that.”

He held the sleeve of your jacket as you shrugged out of it, abandoning it into the back seat. You took just a second to mourn the fact that it would be cold when you went to put it back on.

In the rearview mirror, you fixed your hair, having been mussed by the removal of your hat, and then stepped out. He ushered you along first, reaching past you and pushing the door open for you when you had reached it. The music hit you like a wall, loud and energetic - followed quickly by the smell of alcohol. A cloud of smoke hung subtly near the ceiling, giving the room an air of mystery. You realized you hadn’t made a move to enter the house when you felt his hand on the middle of your back.

“Everything okay?” he asked, just above the volume of the music. You nodded, feeling silly for holding him up, and stepped inside.

People were moving to the music like blood reacting to a heartbeat, swaying around to the rhythms all in a pleasant unison. The scene was oddly hypnotic as the colors danced around.

The second that people could see Josh behind you, they started calling his name. Your stomach lurched for a second, scared that he was either going to leave you or drag you to a group that you didn’t know, but he waved them off instead.

“I’ll catch you guys in a minute,” he shouted through a grin so charming they couldn’t seem to muster up a shred of annoyance toward him. Then, he spoke the next part right against your ear. “You want a drink?”

“Just one,” you agreed with a nod, shivering ever so slightly as his breath hit your cheek.

In the kitchen, huddled around an island covered by bottles, was a group of people, all very visibly drunk. One of those people was Kate, dressed in a crisp looking pair of jeans, a white crop top, and a red checkered flannel shirt, left open to expose her midriff.

When she caught sight of you, she gave you a big, toothy smile. The sharp fringe of her bob moved just enough to sometimes expose a pair of gold disk earrings.

“Need a drink?” she asked as she broke away from the rest of the crowd. “I’ll make it for you.”

You put your hands up, laughing at her enthusiasm. “I’m going to let Josh make it for me,” you informed, knowing full well that she would make it strong enough to get you drunk and keep you in that state for the whole evening.

The one that Josh ended up making for you was, undeniably, a rum and Coke. Not your most favorite thing ever, but then again, this one was mostly just Coke. You made a mental note to thank him for being so considerate.

The three of you ended up in the living room, right in the throws of all the action. You’d been to a few parties back home, but this felt kind of different. Back home, it was always hot, so the parties usually spilled out into the yard in all directions. Come to think of it, you’d never been to a party where the guests weren’t making prominent use of the pool. But here everyone was packed in tightly, making a large house feel tiny.

Kate found you all a nice little corner with a love seat and some kind of weird puff you think you were meant to put your feet on. Settling in there meant you’d have to share the space with a couple of other people, but it felt worth it to not be standing in the middle of the room. Being out in the open made you feel nervous - like you were being circled by sharks.

The songs changed, but the beat seemed to stay pretty much the same, making it easy for the time to slip by without your acknowledgment. By the time you checked your watch, it was nearly eleven.

True to his word, Josh didn’t leave your side the whole night. People kept popping in and out to get a word with him. You couldn’t hear them well because he was sat across from you, but he was laughing quite a bit. Some of it looked kind of forced, but most of it seemed genuine - like he was actually having a nice time.

It wasn’t until you were close to getting ready to leave that you saw Jake making his way down the stairs, one hand on the wooden railing to steady himself and the other wrapped around a red cup. You flashed him a smile when his eyes landed on you, and he gave you one back, giving you a feather-light punch to your shoulder when he reached you.

“Move over,” he demanded in Josh’s direction, sitting nearly on top of him on the couch, with only light complaints from his twin.

“You smell like sex,” Josh said through a fake grimace, pressing his elbow into Jake’s ribs.

“Can’t imagine why,” Jake responded with a smirk, lifting the cup to his lips as you giggled at him.

The realization struck you as his eyes landed on Kate next. “Oh, Jake, this is my friend Kate. Kate, Jake Kiszka.”

She reached out and took his hand to shake and at the same moment, Josh laid his hand on your leg and through a grin, asked, “Should we take off?”

You laughed, giving him a nod.

“Kathrine, Jacob,” Josh started, clapping his hands together in front of him. “We are leaving. See you guys soon?”

“We should actually get tacos,” Kate stated seriously to the group as a whole, and then just to Josh said, “And my name is Kathleen.”

#brightest blue fic #josh kiszka fic #josh gvf #Greta Van Fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #josh gvf fic

213 notes · View notes

jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 3 years

Text

⤷Wanderlust

⤷Pairing: Pro hero! Bakugo/ Reader

A/n: Listen, I yeeted to write this the second I brainstormed it, mostly because I has I see red on repeat, anyways have some plot less schmut. I hope you enjoy

❦All characters mentioned are over 18 years of age❦

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Minors Do not Interact

It's not the fist that collides with the wall so dangerously close to your head, it's not the sweet hum of a growl that vibrates against your chest, it's not even the gleamy, teeny tears that shine in vibrant ruby against your own (e/c) orbs.

If you come to think of it, what you think has you so riled up is the hand under your chin that's tugging dangerously on your skin, or maybe, maybe, it's the astoundingly hot knee that's pressed onto your barely clothed mound.

Whatever it is, Katsuki Bakugo invented it.

His apartment is empty, yet still meticulously cleaned and tidy, it almost feels like a shame to sit still against his grasp and observe the messy pile of clothes that's spread all over the hardwood of the tiles.

Almost.

Because when you take another glance at his broad, naked chest, you don't regret ripping his tank top over his head and throwing it anywhere it should have landed.

"Mhm" His forehead is on yours as he moans, lips brushing slightly against yours.

It's such a sweet serenade to you. Even after knowing him for years, you've never thought you'd hear him moan like this. More so, you've never thought he'd moan like this because of you.

"Fuck, fuck Katsuki!"

His lips are soft, trailing like the finest satin upon the lines of yours and yet, there's nothing mellow, nothing delicate about the way he's kissing you. It feels like a struggle to assert dominace, a battle in which he absolutely has to come out of yielding victory in his hand. And like a greek olympic, he wants to scream out of his lungs, that he did it, he had his way with his own desired so that the laurel on his locks would be well deserved.

His whole body is burning in temperatures that make you feel as though you're going to melt and crumble right on his knee, but you need to be able to ignore it, you need to give to him what he's giving to you.

Because if you don't, Katsuki will not rest easy.

In fact, he won't rest at all.

"Wrap your hands around my neck!" Bakugo orders.

With a gulp you nod against his lips, your chin coming to sit uncomfortably against his hand this time. As the sound if tour hands tousling closer to his neck though, he quickly adjusts his own hand, making his own space for it under your tank top.

Bulky fingers trail a hundred paths over your stomach and chest, skillfully roaming every single sensitive spot. Katsuki knows what he's doing, when touching the underside of your breast, when he aggressively thumbs just milimiters away from your nipple even when he's never quite touching it.

Your voice refuses to hitch in your throat this early on, but your teeth can't be controlled when Bakugo trails his hand just over your panties and gives a small flick to your swollen numb, they trap the inside of your cheeks in a tight chock hold.

It's only then that your voice finally begs to let out a yelp.

"Eager much?" Bakugo smirks against your neck, looking down to your shoulder blade.

"Shut up," You moan "and do something about it."

His teeth feel sharp when they dig into the soft skin of your neck, but it doesn't last for long, all he ever does is make you want to miss the feeling of his suckling on your sweet spots.

His knee is off of you in seconds just right when his hand comes to cup under your buttock. Bakugo carbs a handful of skin, tagging it harshly as he digs his fingers with bruising force, making sure to leave a firm, loud slap on the spot when he rips his hand away from you.

"Now tag on my hair." He grunts against your shoulder, then places a sloppy kiss on it. "You're going to need it."

With a diligent smug, you whine against his lips.

"I don't need to be told to tag on your hair Kacchan."

"Wanna test me, extra?"

His lips are attacking yours again. Each word spoken is pressed against your mouth, lost in the non existence space between the two of you. It's hard to focus on his words, hard to keep the smug attitude on when his kisses feel like that.

It's even hard to keep your composure against the wall. Soon, he'll have to physically hold you against it.

"That's what I thought."

Bakugo's hands travel to the hem of your shirt, tugging once, twice, hoping you're getting the hint to raise your hands over your head. It's an utter pity that you don't raise your hands in time but Bakugo doesn't care either way. With one hand now holding the entirety of your back, prompting your chest into protruding, his other works on lifting your shirt above your breasts.

"Fuck" He twitches.

He pushes your chest closer to him, bowing his head down slightly just to place a kiss to the middle of it. You struggle to keep your moans inside, in fact, you struggle staying still. Bakugo's way of holding you is causing you to twitch and move uncontrollably; you find it difficult to sit quiet in one place, and by the bastard's smug smile against your ribs, you know he's enjoying it.

Another kiss is placed below your right breast and you already feel spent. Bakugo's touch is hot, his kisses even hotter, even sloppier that the ones he left against your lips and bruising your skin anywhere they kiss.

"You're- you're, fucking- hot." You manage to yelp.

It's too late for praise, though; his thumb is already hooking under the side of your panties with just a ghost of a space between his finger and the skin of your hip. You can feel your self throbbing at the feeling. Still, you tenderly watch past the falling and rising of your chest, right into Katsuki's eyes as he lowers himself a little more against you.

Upon the parting of his hands on your warmed up skin, quick shivers are like whines in response.

"Listen here" Bakugo seemingly struggles, "extra" ah, that's why, coming up with a tender nickname proves to be difficult for him. Still, you refuse to give a flying pig on what he chooses to call you. It's definitely not your priority.

"We're only going to do this once, get it, once! Then I'll get you out of my fucking head"

The last part falls as a timid whisper against you, still your answer is expected to be delivered in any way. Bakugo's eyes are blinking in yours, longing for a single waver of confirmation.

You wonder if theres something hiding deeper into the scarlet of his orbs. Desperation maybe? Whatever it is, you dismiss that thought in its entirety. You're not about to push your luck. Not tonight.

Before you have the time to verbalise a well formed reply, you find that words turning on their tracks, ready to vanish after they reach their source. Your underwear is on the floor with a feathery thud. You focus your eyes onto Bakugo once again. The sight of him rubbing his head on to your thigh ferally, dragging your skin to his direction as he bites down on you is enough to make your tongue to probe out just to lick between your lips.

"Just once" Bakugo whispers, looking up at you

Your chest hitches with a hiccuped breath as Bakugo ghosts his mouth against you. Your skin is overwhelmed by a number, white like sensation, especially since Bakugo digs his fingers into your pelvis, eager more than ever to land you onto him.

And at long last, he takes a scouting lick against you.

"Katsuk-" You try to breathe, but you're cut off short

"It's fine. Throw your leg over my shoulder and relax"

The way that he shushes you with feral, ruby eyes is longing enough to have your stomach turn into a tight knot. You feel an avalanche of pleasure rush from that very knot and to your core as another lick is laid flat against you; this time, your grip onto his hair tightens and just only the low, pained grunt of his is enough to turn your leglegs into a mushy pudding.

One more twirl of his tongue and you're desperately tugging onto his hair. Biting your lip, you throw your head back. Your hips are shived onto his face with force and he doesn't miss the best he's given; his hand pulls you closer as he's holding you down onto him.

From the temperature you're feeling against your skin, you know you're going to be feeling this handprint for the rest of the week.

You're too embarrassed to admit, but the way you lock your eyes with Bakugo feels too natural, too alluring and you don't think you're going to want to stop what is going on right now, if you don't make yourself pull back I'm this very instance.

"Kacchan." You choke, shining at your own choice to push him back, even if he won't budge "Sex now, foreplay later?"

Bakugo cocks an eye brow to your direction and hums in response. His departure from your hips and thighs is accompanied by a grunt and a whine, but all you can focus on is the way he wiped his mouth with the back of his cubit and wrist.

"Wrap your fucking arms around me and don't tell me what to do baby"

Face inches against yours and chest pressed against chest, his hands cup your buttocks once again, giving you a tiny prompt as a sign to jump onto him. You secure your arms around his neck and eagerly take the leap, wrapping your legs around waist. Bakugo jubs his face into your neck, launching an attack of skin bruising kisses while slamming your back against the wall.

"Katsuki, I'm dripping, come on."

"Don't have to tell me twice baby."

You yelp as you feel your back being lifted off of the wall but Bakugo is quick to occupy your mouth with his, pushing his tongue into your crevice with malice and string determination to swallow all of your moans. His hands squeeze onto your ass.

"Bedroom or couch?" He pulls back before attacking you again. "Speak up baby"

"Fuck, bed, no, couch."

"Couch?"

"Yes, yes!"

You've been to his apartment countless times ever since he got it, whether it was on fun night in with him and your friends, to movie nights, to parties and meals. You've always praised him for his choice in having a sole bedroom, you've always complimented that it was far down the hall just so it was bayhed in light throughout the day. But now, now the distance between his bedroom and his living room seemed huge, and in the midst of your inferno, it wasn't quite physically possible to choose into prolonging your torture.

Thus, walking the distance to his couch only takes some loathed long seconds. And once the hardest part is exceeded, you find your self being plopped onto Bakugo, straddling his hips, with a buck and a nerve to your movement.

Your fingers run to the hem of his boxers, soaking along the little pool of precum that's splashed all over them.

"Are you wet Kacchan?" You tease.

And you know, you are in no place to be teasing, with the way you're practically throbbing from above of him.

Yanking your top off and tossing it to the ground, you pulled him straight onto your chest and he launched his attack before be even stopped to think about it.

Sucking the area between your chest into his mouth, his lips make loud pops as he parts and moves to a new spot every time he thinks he assault on the previous is finished.

In response you run your fingers through his platinum locks and place a multitude of kisses all over his head.

Bakugo bucks his hips against yours once more, his low grunts creating vibrations against your whole body. His lifts his butt, pushing you too in the process; the urge to snarl his boxers off is too tempting for you to not give in, it's even s miracle that you've tried so very hard not to, just yet.

With a hiccup for a breath, you yank them off and moan dangerously as Bakugo growls into the action. Now with his boxers on his thighs, he makes a note to try and wiggle the underwear off of his legs.

Your hand is over his and you're lost in the way his skin feels so hot against you, maybe it's his sweat, or perhaps it's the fact that you're literally drooling over him so much that hm even the slightest touch is breaking your feisty will.

"Touch me"

Your sirene please elicits another groan from him and the reaction is immediate; his fingers wiggle from your grasp and swiftly they are on you, feeling you up and down to make sure you're dripping just like before.

You screech when he screws his pointer fight her in you, only for you to realise it was all for nothing as he takes it away immediately and throws you a smirk.

"Fucking hell don't tease me."

"Don't tell me what to do" He says between kisses. "Fuck! I have to wear a condom."

"Wait, no! Dont, you'll pull out, and if not, I'm on the pill."

As he nods in response, Bakugo's heart is speeding up, rasping and rutting inside his chest as you looked down at him, his lip pleading to be released from under his teeth. He swallows hard as he feels you taking a grasp of his member, swirling your hand over just the tip or the base in your effort to edge him close to you.

Finally after what seems like ages his tip finds your entrance, only due to your guidance and the probing is enough to have Bakugo bucking his hips uncontrollably against you.

"Put it in baby, come on. Fuck yourself out of my head, do it."

And you do, you croutch down into him, hissing at the process whilst in synch with him, placing your knees around his hips and using your force to bounce slowly up and down on him.

"Don't tell me what to do" You smirk against his lips.

Taking a hold of his jaw you swing his head upwards and slightly to the side, your thumb and pointer finger pushing into his cheeks as you brought your mouth to his. He lowly grunts, digging his hands into your hips, lowering you into him with force.

He wants to stay put, he wants to sit with his hands leisurely over your hips and watch as you bounce onto him, but he is physically unable to. Soon he finds himself thrusting and rutting, moving, guiding you up and down into him as he buck with animalistic force.

"Fucking hell, fuck!" He yelps.

"Shit I know, keep going"

You can feel him throbbing inside you as he thrusts from underneath you and you hiss everytime he accidentally slips off of you just to slip right in again. His thumb is rubbing slow circles against you, giving you flicks and occasional pinches, his mouth is everywhere, eh there it's biting your nipples or sucking cruises on your neck.

He's close, and you're close, but that won't take from the process. Bakugo will give you everything he has.

"Fuck that's it, I'm coming" He grunts, his thumb setting off on a fire like pace against you.

Balugo jerks and yelps rather loudly, digging his hands on to your flesh and he grounds his hips on you once more. Shrieks are coming off of his mouth as he comes into you, roped of white spilling every where into you and down his member.

You yelp too and you clench around him, giving off a little scream as you feel the knot in your stomach burst into hot red.

"Shit, fuck" He grunts.

"I know, I know, that was..."

Your foreheads heads clash, sweat dripping frm your skin as you place a chaste kiss onto the tip of his nose. You can barely batch your own breath, your chest feels heavy and your lungs are burning and pleading for air. Before you have time to process it though, Bakugo's arms wrap around your form suddenly, bringing you closer to him.

"Kiss me again"

"What?"

"I'm not content with this only happening once, now kiss me again before I blast you into my bedroom."

#bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x you #bnha #mha

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justice4harwin · 3 years

Text

Light’s Corruption- Chapter V

Pairing: The DarklingxAlina

Summary:With few friends at the Little Palace, Alina must work to win the favour of her fellow grisha and their commander, who makes her feel light headed every time she sees him.

After training in Os Alta for two years, the king grows tired of waiting and demands the Sun Summoner joins a western post near the Fjerdan border along with the rest of The Second Army to test her abilities.

Something happens. Suddenly, Alina wants blood to run down the rivers and those who stand in her and The Darkling’s way will be blinded by her light and swallowed by his shadows.

It won’t be pretty

Rating: 18+

Click here for chapter 4

As usual, tags are in the comments. If you dont wanna be tagged, dont be afraid to let me know. If you wanna be tagged, let me know too. I dont bite...anymore lmao

Chapter 5: Heartrenders

Days went by, and they turned into weeks. The leaves fell off the trees, a crunchy sea of red, orange, yellow and brown, and Alina wanted to pile them all on and throw herself inside.

She'd do it the first chance she got, but for that she had to beat the gardeners before they took the piles and burnt them to depressing ashes.

She talked to Michail some more during they rounds around the lake and had her rematch with Natasha.

She lost. Again. She laughed it off. Again. Natasha said she hadn't been so easy to defeat that second time, to which Alina smiled almost genuinely. Progress.

Baghra refused to see her still, and Alina was too proud to go back to her, so she tried to practice on her own. She'd hide away on the far sides of the gardens where the other grisha rarely went to and try to gain more control. It was a slow process; the temptation to let her power run free and vast was always there and trying to tame that always left her exhausted. She had no trouble falling asleep, yet each day the bags underneath her eyes seemed to deepen, as did her appetite. Alina was pretty sure that summoning should be for the better, but more than once, she had thoroughly considered laying down on the cold grass and take a nap there instead of walking all the way back to the Little Palace.

The General wasn't back yet, and much to Alina's confusion, frustration and shame, she worried. Maybe that too had something to do with the bags underneath her eyes. She tended to dream of him in all kinds of scenarios, each less pleasant than the last. It made her wake up sweaty and choking for air.

More than once, she almost wrote to him, only if just to make sure he was alright. But he had to be. Otherwise, word would've spread quickly…right?

She always talked herself out of it though. His presence was missed, her mind was making up all kind of tricks to make her reach out to him like a pathetic girl begging for attention.

The thought reminded her of Baghra's opinion of her, which only strengthened her resolve to not write to him.

She had had enough of begging, enough of getting scrapes of affection from a man who hadn't even bother to write once; she wouldn't do it again, no matter how much her heart tried to pull her to him.

But then her eyes would drift back to the black, shadow rose that laid on her nightstand, the little bit of gold on its inside long dead, and her heart would race and some form of reassurance would fall gently over her, like a blanket shielding her body.

She'd reach out and take it in her hands. It had no thorns. Her fingers would run through its petals, as soft as those of a real rose, but with something deeper in there. There was something more alive inside that rose than in any flower in all of Ravka; it was deep, powerful, and dark. It scared and alluded to her in the same measure, and she'd stare at it fascinated for an unfathomable long time.

She wondered if The Darkling could feel her caressing his shadows; and how he'd feel about it.

Besides Michail and Natasha, Alina didn’t seem to be progressing very much. They exchanged niceties and some jokes, even paired up during training, but there was not much more to it.

She told herself to be patient. These things took time.

One early afternoon, Genya showed up on her room unannounced. Alina hurried to hide her rose inside her nightstand; she wasn't sure why, but she wanted it to be her little secret.

"The Queen just left Os Alta." the redhead smiled. "As did the king. They'll be gone for two days on a hunting trip."

"A hunting trip?"

"Yes, where they kill animals for the fun of it. Like one of those brutish size competitions men seem to like so much."

Alina snorted.

"So?"

"So…"there was a gleam to her friend's eyes, and the summoner leaned back and frowned slightly, almost scared. "I could sneak you into the Grand Palace and into Her Royal Bitch's wardrobe."

"We'll get in trouble, Gen."

"Oh, please; have some faith in me." she placed her elbows on the desk and her chin atop of her hands, almost looking angelic. "Do you really think I'd get you in trouble?"

"Yes."

"Well, then you're wrong." she straightened up and tugged on Alina's arm. "C'mon; there's so many gowns and habits: she rarely wears them twice. We're not stealing; no one will know."

"How many gowns?" she asked, genuinely curious. She had seen the queen on two official occasions, the first time when she arrived from the camps near Kribirsk, and the second when she was invited to her ridiculous tea parade. Still, she had seen her in passing a few times as she strolled the grounds. A part of Alina felt ashamed of the jealousy she felt upon seeing her beautiful clothes and jewels.

There she was, living in a palace, wearing a kefta and being pampered, yet she dared to want more.

"Hundreds!" the Tailor whispered excitedly. "And they'll look much better on us anyway."

She gave in a little to temptation. They would just try them on and leave them again. No one would know, and maybe she'd be satisfied then.

"Alright, alright. But we better not get caught."

"Don't worry, we won't."

They left the bedroom and ran down the stairs, Genya holding onto the blue sleeve of her friend as she rambled about all the different fabrics and patterns and accessories while Alina tried to keep up with her, listening to every word while watching her step. The last thing she needed was to trip down the stairs.

That'd be a sad way to go for her.

"You'll love it. I promise!" Genya turned to give her a smile, but Alina's eyes drifted to the looming figure appearing in her line of vision.

The Darkling walked into the Little Palace accompanied by Ivan, Fedyor and a third heartrender.

It was a woman, a little bit older than Alina probably, but only for a few years. She was tall, with long, brown hair cascading down her back. Her kefta, which hugged her rounded figure nicely, gave her away as a fellow heartrender.

The Darkling noticed them approaching. Alina tried to search something in his eyes, anything that gave away any sort of emotion that could cause in him to see her again, but she saw nothing but his usual coolness.

The Summoner and the Tailor came to a stop and bowed.

"Moi Soverennyi." they bowed respectfully.

"Miss Starkov, Miss Safin; it has been some time." he looked from one to the other. "May I inquire as to your present activities?"

"Nothing we're not supposed to do." Alina spat out, earning herself a dainty elbow to the ribs.

General Kirigan rose an eyebrow.

"I see. See to it that it stays that way."

"Of course, sir." spoke Genya, serious all of a sudden.

The man turned and contemplated the strange woman for a moment, then gestured at Alina with a gloved hand.

"This is Alina Starkov, our Sun Summoner." he looked at her, those pools of grey catching her breath. "Miss Starkov, may I introduce you to Nina Zenik. She is one of my best agents and has just recently returned from an assignment in Shu Han."

The woman's green eyes settled on Alina, taking her in. Something glittered in there.

"So, she is real after all."

"Would I lie to you?" was The Darkling's reply.

"You forgot to mention how pretty she is." Nina ignored him, taking a long, stealth step towards her and catching a tendril of Alina's dark hair in her fingers.

"Um, it's a pleasure to meet you." The Sun Summoner managed to say, nervous under the woman scrutiny.

"Oh, a pleasure indeed, sun bean." Nina smiled, amusement shining in her eyes as Alina's face heated up. "I can't wait to make your acquaintance."

Before Alina could even think of an answer -for the woman's pretty eyes were too distracting- The Darkling cleared his throat.

"Not for some time, I am afraid." he said. Alina finally turned her gaze to him. There was something dark and intense in the way he was staring at Nina's back, his jaw tense. "Miss Starkov has quite the busy schedule."

Alina felt Genya tensing beside her. Nina's eyes slid momentarily, as if she could see The Darkling behind her, and nodded, winking at her before receding.

"Certainly. I can only imagine." she turned a charming smile on him. "Should we discuss my mission in private?"

"Of course." he answered almost, almost too quickly. He made a gesture for her to go in first.

"See you around, sun bean."

Alina choked on her own saliva as she struggled to say her farewell.

Ivan left with them without even glancing in their direction; Fedyor was kind enough to give them each a courteous smile.

Genya was giggling like an idiot.

"Shut up."

Now she was laughing.

During their training one day, Alina decided to pair up with her. Many grisha gave her a myriad of odd looks, and for a moment, Alina feared she might be about to face another Zoya.

Nina seemed to not to notice them and beckoned her forward.

People seemed to like Nina, Alina observed. The woman had charm and wit; the Sun Summoner really had to try to not get jealous of those traits. She reminded herself that Nina had been at the Little Palace for years, not one season and a half.

They circled each other, taking their measures.

Alina didn't want to be the one to strike first. That always had seemed to go wrong thus far, so she waited.

The heartrender went to the left, so Alina turned, only to be tricked as she received a blow on her right. She winced and stood back, more alert. She didn't want to make a ridicule again.

"You're small and skinny." the heartrender whispered. Alina arched an eyebrow. "I'm bigger and stronger, so your best option is to tire me out."

"I'm not exactly the fastest person."

Nina threw a punch and, luckily, Alina blocked it successfully.

She shook her head.

"Speed and resistance don't need to go hand in hand."

Alina didn't dare to look around to see if anyone else could hear them. She hoped not. Botkin would most certainly disapprove of his students giving each other advice on how to defeat them.

So, with Nina's words in mind, Alina did her best to block and recede. She tried, mostly unsuccessfully, to punch and kick, and received a wince and an "ouch" as Nina rubbed her calf.

The Summoner could feel everyone still watching, Marie and Nadia cheering her on; Sergei and Michail more reserved since she was fighting a fellow red sporter.

Then, Alina caught a glimpse. It was a second, and before she even knew it, she was taking a chance.

Nina was placing her foot down, twisting it as if to test it, and the next she was laying on her back, Alina having all but hurled herself at the woman, grabbing her middle section with all her strength and pushing.

They landed on the ground, and in the disbelief, the Summoner almost forgot to fully immobilize her opponent the way Botkin had taught her.

"You know," Nina gasped, the breath having abandoned her lungs. "There's better ways to get on top of me, sun bean, but if you like it rough-"

Alina blushed in embarrassment, both for having potentially hurt her and for the path those words were leading to.

"Are you alright?" she interrupted hurriedly. "Did I hurt you?"

Nina tried to laugh and cried instead.

"Shit, sun bean. You do have some strength in that tiny body after all."

"Alright!" Botkin clapped his hands twice, coming over toward them. "The little girl wins again, …finally."

Alina was almost offended. At least Marie and Nadia were cheering, as were some others Etherealki. She noticed Sergei and Michail exchanging some coins and scowled.

"Healer." she called, and one hurried to Nina's side.

"It's just a broken rib." the woman said, setting herself to work.

Nina raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I'm impressed, sun bean. I didn't actually think you'd win."

Alina found a new hiding spot where to practice her summoning. It was a most secluded corner, surrounded by old trees, an unkept stone bench and a dirty sculpture of a woman.

She really wanted to be offended.

With eyes wide, she forgot all about her practice, raced and jumped in, laughing childishly to herself.

She looked up and took in the warmth of the sun with pleasure, her face basking in it as her hands ran through leaves and sticks. It was actually a little uncomfortable, but fun.

She almost wished she could sink in and stay there forever, with the sun warming her body and the crunchy leaves all around her.

There was a big pile of leaves.

"Did you fall?"

A shadow took the light from her face, and she found The Darkling standing over her, looking down with something akin to curiosity.

"No. I just jumped."

"Into a pile of dirt?"

"It's not dirt. Besides, it's fun!" she extended a hand. "Wanna try?"

He huffed. Her cheeks heated up. She should've known better.

He took her hand and pulled her up, the mere contact making everything about him feel more intense as usual.

She held onto him.

"How did you find me?"

"You are my Sun Summoner; did you really think I would let you wander about the palace grounds unguarded?"

"Do you have me followed?" she had never noticed.

"For your safety."

"I thought this was the safest place in all of Ravka."

"I am not taking any chances with you, Alina." he replied, eyes guarded, face soft.

"Well, I've never noticed them."

"It means they are doing a good job. I would not want you to live scared, looking over your shoulder all the time."

"I might as well start now that I know."

He opened his mouth and then closed it, thumb rubbing the back of her hand. Alina wondered if he noticed what he was doing.

"You are right." he stepped closer, pulling a leaf off her hair. "But you need not fear, especially while I am on the palace grounds."

"Because not even the dumbest drüskelle would dare to cross paths with you?"

"Nor would the boldest noble."

Alina frowned. The nobles of Os Alta?

She nodded slowly.

"I have scared you." he stated, studying her face. "I apologize."

"No, no." she let go of his hand. "You just made me wearier."

"That is just how life at court is." he offered, not unkindly. "This is not just an army sometimes, especially for you and I."

Alina looked at him, questioning.

"There is no one else like us, Alina." he said, approaching her once more. The calmness, the facts were gone, replaced by a fire she wanted to step into. The vehemence in his voice made her shiver and want to take refuge in his cloak. "There never will be."

She thought about it. What exactly did he mean by that?

He reached out again and plucked another leaf from her hair, then took her face in his hands. She tilted her head up, desperate for a look into those eyes.

Her heart drummed on her ribcage, wanting to break free.

"I-" words failed her as he studied her face, like she was something unique he wanted to memorize.

His thumb ran over her lips, and she exhaled heavily at the feel.

"I forgot what I came here to tell you." he whispered in confidence, his eyes on her parted lips.

"I don't care."

One of his hands left her face and wrapped around her waist, pressing her against his hard chest. Alina almost gasped, hands coming up to rest on his shoulders. He pressed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, hiding the conflict she had briefly witnessed there.

Alina made a choice.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

He reciprocated immediately, holding her tighter and pushing his tongue inside her mouth, demanding a dominance she was more than willing to give him.

She had been kissed, but never like this. It was a first kiss that felt like the last; its intensity so beautifully crushing and chaotic. It was like he was a missing part of her, long searched for and finally found. It was like she was the most precious, addictive treasure, something to be cherished and corrupted at the same time.

Alina was willing to let him do as he wanted with her.

Her hands pulled at his hair, earning a growl. Their eyes met briefly, the desire in them fighting to see whose was grander, before kissing again.

It was like he wanted to pull her closer still, the barrier of clothes too much. Something told Alina that the lack of them wouldn't satisfy either of them anyways.

He kissed her jaw, travelling his way up to her earlobe.

"You make me weak." he whispered harshly, only to proceed to ravish the parts of her neck that were exposed.

"You make me strong." she answered, craning her neck to give him better access.

Growling, he gave her ass a hard squeeze and pushed her back against a tree. She could feel the tug and crunches of the leaves as he buried his hands in her hair but didn't care.

She wanted more.

And more.

She drew his lips back to hers. He reached for the belt which held her kefta closed.

"Sir!"

The next thing Alina knew was that she was standing against a tree, her back aching and her body cold, yet her face hot.

She looked at The Darkling, who seemed almost unperturbed as he smoothly fixed his hair and clothes, standing at a respectable distance from her.

Ivan appeared, seeming to be in a hurry.

Alina narrowed her eyes at him. As if she didn't dislike him enough already, the little shit.

"Moi Soverennyi, you are needed in the king's counsel immediately."

"Tell that grump I shall be there shortly."

Ivan bowed and left, not even acknowledging Alina's presence.

The Darkling cleared his throat. She turned her dark gaze on him, cheeks burning against the cold air, lips probably bruised.

What had just happened?

She wasn't sure, but she wanted to do it again. The Darkling, on the other hand, remained stoic as he stared into her eyes, as if nothing had occurred between them.

"I understand that you have been training on your own;" he said, as if he were talking to any other grisha, ever polite and smooth, voice reassuring yet commanding." I shall speak to Baghra so you may return to your lessons."

"But I don't wann-"

With him gone, the early winter sun felt cold.

"Miss Starkov." he bowed to her respectfully and marched away, disappearing from view within seconds.

Click here for chapter 6

#shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone #Alina starkov #the darkling #aleksander morozova #darkling x alina #alina x aleksander #alina x darkling #genya safin #nina zenik #fedyor kaminsky #fanfic

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starryeyedrogue · 3 years

Text

mental health & vent

again, a long one. please stick with me here.

tw: depression, anxiety, ptsd, epilepsy diagnosis, suicidal thoughts mention

hey everyone, like I said in my last post, I won’t be as active on here. this doesn’t mean I’m quitting by any means, I’m here for the long haul! I just need a break for a little bit.

side note: I am not in any way suicidal or practicing self harm. this is just to vent and act as a PSA for my mutuals/followers.

now onto my main message.

I’ve seen lots of posts about mental health lately, and I’m so incredibly proud of those who have spoken up. They’ve inspired me to make my own post, actually. normally I’d keep it to myself, but this time has been rough and I want to get it off my chest. I’ll probably delete this later, but still.

I’ve been depressed.

long story short, I had a very traumatic experience a couple years ago with an ex boyfriend (not going into it on this post, for details just dm me. not something I’d want to post publicly, this is just an explanation) and I was deeply depressed. I was never diagnosed “officially” because I was afraid to speak up, as this would expose what I was going through. I had really bad anxiety at that time too, and I still do. I also have PTSD flashbacks from it now and again. none of this was diagnosed, and I still don’t want to bring it up to my doctors/family. my irl friends don’t even know, at least not most of it.

I have monoclonic epilepsy, which means my seizures are fairly small. my arms, legs, feet, hands, and fingers twitch, and I lose control for a few seconds. it doesn’t hurt, and sometimes I don’t even notice or remember it happening, but my family does. epilepsy in general runs in my family, and it can be triggered by a great deal of stress, lack of sleep, and of course flashing lights. in my case, I never “had” epilepsy or seizures until the “experience” I mentioned before, as it caused massive amounts of stress for about 2 years straight. it’s gotten better, as I now have medicine and am out of that situation, and I haven’t had a seizure since September, which is amazing and a huge blessing.

writing has helped with my depression and anxiety a lot, as I can write out what effects me the most. honestly, some of the characters are based off of myself (before vs after) and the person from the “experience.” this is just for therapeutic reasons, as I don’t really want to go to real therapy (I’d be too embarrassed to ask for it or talk to someone anyway, though I probably need to go eventually and plan to when I’m on my own).

however, when I stopped posting it, I started feeling bad again. I didn’t think I needed to post my stories to feel better or to make a childhood dream into reality, but not posting it made me feel somehow worse. I’ve stopped writing as much, and I’ve lost motivation to do just about anything. I’m working on a couple things to help myself get out of this “funk,” but any tips would be greatly appreciated!

this may seems stupid, but I’ve been depressed and very anxious about my schooling. I started in cyber security and got about halfway through, but I became depressed and had other issues so I didn’t finish the degree. now I’m starting in psychology, after praying for months and months for help with figuring out what to do for school. I finally got an answer, and that answer was to be a Christian counselor! I want to help as many people as I can, especially since I know how it feels to be anxious, depressed, and have PTSD.

I’m dealing with a lot of changes right now, as I’m selling my first car, might have to move out of my first house/childhood home, and just a bunch of other stuff. this sounds trivial, but I hate change. it seriously stresses me out. my neurologist told me that if I have any more seizures, I won’t be able to drive for 6 months to a year to be safe (as I could have an “episode” as I call it while driving and hurt myself/others in a potential car accident). trust me, trying not to be stressed while being stressed, anxious, and depressed is not easy.

on top of all that, my irl friends have all but abandoned me. I never hear from them (all but one, she’s the best!), and when I do they ignore me or pretend to listen when they obviously aren’t. I try to make plans with them, but they ignore me or just say “definitely!” but never try to set up times to hang out. It’s been almost two years since I’ve seen them all together. I was able to hang out with the friend I mentioned earlier to go to another friend’s recital, but that was it, and that was months ago. I totally get being busy, but I miss them and I don’t think they miss me, which really hurts. one friend ditched us on graduation day and we haven’t talked to her outside of “happy birthday,” or “@___ look at this thing I know you like,” which she never responded to. graduation was 4 years ago. I miss them all, even if they aren’t really my friends. I miss familiarity and their chaotic personalities. I’ve known them my entire life. honestly, I haven’t made any other friends irl, even though I’ve tried (I’m very introverted and a lot of people don’t get my humor/personality. I’m very much a mischievous old lady that uses weird wording (li.e. using uncommon words for my generation mixed with modern stuff, basically I sound like a vampire that’s been around since the 50s and mixes the eras together in some unholy mixture) at heart and I have very niche interests that I cling to like they’re my last hope). basically, making friends and meeting new people is hard for me for various reasons.

tumblr is different though, which I’m seriously grateful for! the people I’ve talked to are all so nice and really fun to talk to, and they’re part of why I’m posting this. @elvish-sky gave me the courage to post this and @hey-its-nonny and @padawansofthejediorder have been amazing and super nice to me, and I couldn’t be more grateful. the reason I’m posting this is to let them know what’s going on if I don’t respond to messages for a while, and to let them know what wonderful people they are and how much it means to me that they care about me, even if we’re just tumblr mutuals. I love you guys, thanks for being here! it means more than you know.

my mom and dad both had health scares recently, which made me spiral even more. I honestly don’t know what I would do if one of them died. they’re literally my world and my best friends, as ridiculous as that sounds. my mental health was so low I honestly thought I’d die too. they’re both fine now, which is truly a blessing and a massive relief. when I say I thought I’d die too, I don’t mean I wanted to commit suicide, but I honestly can’t imagine a world without my parents, especially my mom (hers was the main health scare, it was a case of reaction to a new medication for her migraines). we’re insanely close and she’s my best friend, as cheesy as that sounds. I don’t know what I would do without her. it’s making me teary just thinking about it.

long story short, please be patient with me. I’m dealing with a lot right now, and I need some time to take a deep breath and focus on my mental health. if you have any suggestions/tips for dealing with depression, anxiety, and PTSD flashbacks, please let me know!

for those I’ve tagged, you don’t have to reply or even read this whole thing if you want, I tagged you because I thought you’d like to know about this and/or I wanted to show my appreciation for your kindness!

I love you all, thanks for sticking around and listening to my rants. <3

#roguespeaks #sorry that was super long #vent #mental health #roguesrambles

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avenger-hawk · 3 years

Note

Hi you have a great understanding of Sasuke's character and awesome blog. Could I ask you for tips on how to write Sasuke right in fanfiction? When I try I never seem to get him right

Hello and thanks Anon. First of all, y’all don’t get offended if I’ll destroy some of your fave tropes in fics...I don’t judge ppl writing what they want in their fics, it’s their own fic so ofc they write what they want and how they want it and if they have fun with gay-uncle-Izuna, CEOItachi and sluttySasuke good for them...but when ppl impose their OOC Sasuke (or Nar or Itachi&co) as the real thing, and boy if they do....well. Nope.

Anyway I replied to similar asks here, here and here, so I’ll copy-paste some parts. My Sasuke tag. More Sasuke meta. More headcanons. More essays tag.

Sasuke is not dominant. He’s not bossy. He’s not assertive. He’s very passive in relationships and he values individual freedom, his own and other people’s. Ppl mistake his determination in pursuing his goals with assertiveness but it’s a totally different thing. He never makes the first move with ppl, unless he has a goal and he needs them, and even when he needs them, like Taka, he never imposes his will on them. He first freed them then he asked their help for his own goal, saying that he would accept if they refused. He never imposed himself on his brother (a child wanting his big brother’s attention is not being dominant, it’s natural) and he never did it on Nar or anyone else.

Sasuke is not selfish, he is the most selfless character in the whole series. He respected people, he didn’t see himself above them. He didn’t see himself as a genius or anything. He worked hard because he had a low self esteem, he was always compared to Itachi and he always lost. He was humble enough to ask others’ help, like asking N*ruto how S*kura was able to climb the tree with chakra in the beginning, or asking Team Taka’s help to find Itachi, asking Kakashi to make him stronger and following Orochimaru for more strength. And during all these, he was thrown in his face parts of the tragic truth about Itachi and his clan and he always had to get back on his feet and fight more. His world crumbled so many times on him and yet not only he reacted but he always was able to help those around him. Not with big words like N*ruto but really, freeing Orochimaru’s prisoners, Taka, and earlier protecting his team from Gaara, protecting N*ruto from Haku, and later proitecting N*ruto from Kaguya and then protecting the whole world from her, protecting Itachi’s ideal, his sacrifice from those who threatened to make it useless. He was ready to become the world’s only enemy to keep them together, following what he thought Itachi had taught him indirectly.

Sasuke is neither possessive nor jealous. He never showed any sign of possessiveness or jealousy towards anyone. He protected Taka and N*ruto. He defended Itachi’s name, unlike too many like to think: when he threatens Danzo to stop talking about Itachi it’s not because he’s jealous but because he doesn’t want that bastard to talk shit about his perfect brother, especially cause that bastard was the reason of his ruin. He was defending his name from an enemy and it was pure and selfless, not possessive at all! Proof of this is when Hashirama praises him instead, Sasuke is happy. He likes people to speak about his brother in a good way! When they were children Itachi always dismissed Sasuke who pouted but never got really angry or jealous at Shisui for example. And at the end of the fight vs Kabuto he aknowledged Itachi’s resolve to leave even tho it broke his heart to lose him again, and he let Itachi go with the saddest face but the utmost respect.

Sasuke is not arrogant. He has a low self-esteem. He was raised in the shadow of his genius brother, he suffered for his father not noticing him, he later developed an inferiority complex towards N*ruto as well because of his quick progress, compared to his own that he perceived as slower and not enough (that’s why he joined Orochimaru). When he brags it’s not because he’s the bragging type (aka N*ruto, Kiba &co) but it’s because he’s either making fun of N*ruto, since they were rivals/friends (not to mention it’s a shounen trope) and, even more so, because he is proud of his achievements. He worked so hard always and when he created a jutsu or smth he says it. Because he has low self esteem but he’s not socially awkward or shy or whatever (see later paragraph). So he is proud of his own results. (which is also a very TE thing, for those who care about mbti stuff).

Sasuke doesn’t value his life much. This is a result of his low self-esteem, which leads to poor sense of self-preservation (to prove that he’s strong, like when he was a genin and he trained so hard,and later to pursue his goals, for which he’d give his body to Orochimaru and his life over and over). Also he is so determined to achieve his goals that he’d do anything for them. He was ready to die on many occasions in canon for this and even later, after the ending, he’s seeing himself as a tool. Also, he never really got over the sense of worthlessness first caused by his father and then by Itachi’s words the night of the massacre. Not in a real life trauma-like thing, but as a way to see himself. this means that all those stereotypical rocking back and forth, cutting, whatever behaviors are not like him, who always got back to his feet and lived, although not for himself but for his goals.

Sasuke is not bitchy or spoiled. If he was he would have a great self esteem, and he clearly showed to have a very low self esteem instead. He never made anything about him actually, as all his goals were about others, his family, his brother, and so on. He was the one who did better teamwork in team7 actually, and he protected his friends and comrades, not to mention he freed Orochimaru’s prisoners and fought for the village and its people. How is this spoiled or bitchy, and btw, bitchy ppl do get offended and he never paid attention to offenses towards him, only towards his brother.

Sasuke is neither the haughty élite type nor the shy/socially anxious/‘emo’ type. He is neither Neji nor H*nata. He is aloof, he is always lost in his own thoughts and he doesn’t care about socializing because he wants to become strong, because he cared more about his family and goals, because he cared more about their opinion than the opinion of classmates. He valued strength since the beginning, being raised the way he was raised, so he valued the praise of strong people and not of the others, unlike those who seek praise from everyone. On the other hand his being aloof doesn’t mean he can’t have normal interactions, and the fact that he doesn’t use honorifics doesn’t mean he has socialization problems. Only that he doesn’t pay attention to these things anymore. He was always pragmatic, and after the massacre he became pragmatic to an extreme level, cutting off all unnecessary things, manners included. It doesn’t mean, though, that he doesn’t respect some people (=those he deems strong. Including Team Taka). He just shows it through actions.

Sasuke is not se/xually aggressive/dominant/whatever. He is too busy with his own goals to have se/xual or romantic thoughts (unlike other characters both male and female, not just Karin but also S*kura, Ino, and ofc N*ruto). I wouldn’t define this being asexual tho, because their universe is not ours and I’m sick&tired of all the real world/Nar universe parallels. He’s passive in relationship and on many occasions he showed indifference to se/xual anything, not disgust. Just, it wasn’t his thought. Because he is on a different wavelength. So even when he told characters to not be so close to him or smth, he didn’t move away, he just told them, which kinda proves my point once more of how passive he is towards ppl and relationships, he just lets them be. On the other hand, aceSas is better than hornydominantSas that is so OOC it hurts, be it with Itachi, Nar, S*kura or whatever other girls/boys.

Most MAIN characters didn’t understand/didn’t try to understand him. The ones who understood him more are unexpectedly not his friends. Not counting Taka ofc.

Sasuke is passive. He is the yin and N*ruto is the yang. In case this isn’t clear. It’s canon. Kishi used a yin/yang parallel for him and N*ruto, so while N*ruto is yang/sun/warm/ positive/active/male principle in nature/masculine, Sasuke is yin/moon/cold/negative/passive/passive/female principle in nature/feminine. Passive doesn’t mean weak. It means receptive, adaptable, flexible, which Sasuke is, since he’s the one who adapted his life and goals to new events, truths and changes, unlike most others who just kept going their own way no matter what (see N*ruto or Itachi). Many see him as assertive because he faces every situation in a very determined manner, taking actions and deciding everything independently. But being an independent thinker has nothing to do with being assertive or passive. I say he’s passive because he actually always reacts to what life (or Itachi) throws at him, every time. His reactions are quick and strategic, so it’s easy to miss this, but still, again, Itachi or N*ruto actively engage the environment and life, and influence other people, not Sasuke. He’s also passive with people, in relatioships. He never seeks anyone unless it’s for practical reasons, he only reacts to them approaching him. And he reacts in a very calm way, quite mild compared to how determined and detached he is, considering that a lot of characters invade his personal space or more, in the whole series. When he chases after Itachi it’s because he’s his younger brother and it’s natural for them, and mostly because Itachi set up his life so that he would focus on him, still it’s Itachi who is assertive, and he reacts in return. He makes a deal with Orochimaru, to obtain strength and give him his body in return. When he forms Team Taka, before asking their help, he first gives them freedom and only then he asks them to join him, making it clear that he won’t force them if they’ll refuse. He gives them something before asking something in return. This is not just a passive thing but something more because he is not selfish, like I said before.

Sasuke is an independent thinker. Unlike other smart thinkers like Itachi or Madara, to whom the story associated him, Sasuke was kept in the dark about many things, so he developed his own view of the world later, but when he did it was original and unique, just like his fighting style and strategy.

Sasuke is private about his thoughts and feelings but he’s also honest about them. Itachi is mysterious and not honest about his feelings, not him. He is aloof, it’s different. Just because he doesn’t trust many people and he’s lost in his own thoughts it doesn’t mean he is a shoujo mysterious character lol.

Sasuke is goal oriented. He does whatever it takes to achieve his goals. He would have given his body as a vessel for Orochimaru, not caring about what would happen to him, as long as he could have his revenge. He would have lived an eternity in solitude so that the world would have lived in peace. And, again, his goals are never about himself.

Sasuke wanted to die after he killed Itachi, but then when he woke up and was told the truth he had another purpose, and so he lived on.

Sasuke admires and respects strength but he’s not power thirsty. He wanted to become strong because he wanted to be worthy of Itachi and his father, than because he had to avenge his clan, then he had to avenge Itachi. It’s because he had low self-esteem and was selfless that he sought power. He wanted to be beside his father and brother, not to surpass them, actually. It’s Itachi who talked about surpassing.

Sasuke is very smart and logical, but he is easily manipulated with the right arguments. Like using Itachi, or appealing to his low self esteem, his feeling of worthlessness, his emotions. Because people who are logical are actually not emotionless. In fact they have a hard time controlling their emotions when they feel strongly, and this can be seen clearly every time Sasuke loses control. He becomes more impulsive than N*ruto who instead gets calmer, because he’s more in touch with his emotions (lol ofc he is, everything is always about his own emotions and feelings). Sasuke puts his feelings and emotions aside to reach his goals, he acts logically and pragmatically, he observes, makes plans, finds the better ways to do things, no matter how hard or dangerous for him they are. He has logical arguments even though they appear ‘crazy’ to other characters, and it’s sad to see how in the end he was belittled by N*ruto, as if his arguments were meaningless, they were not addressed at all, just deemed wrong, not with counterarguments but with illogical emotion based words that just made him feel unstable, as it happens when you have logical arguments and they tell you ‘you’re just depressed, you don’t get things right’.

In the end, he was tamed into submission. He was defeated, put in jail, isolated, guilt tripped and berated because of his ideals and goals, denied the justice he rightfully demanded.

All these can be observed directly. Others, more subtle things about him I wrote here, towards the end of this long post.

#sasuke #I don’t have much motivation to reply to asks tbh but this is important I guess #Anonymous #vivalarevolution: visions #vivalarevolution #vivalarevolution: not crazy but desperate

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onthesandsofdreams · 3 years

Text

The Actor In The App [3/?]

Pairing: Cassian x Jyn Rating: T Summary: ‘Permission to send you something?’ Words: 1521 Notes: Celebrity AU Tagging: @mousedetective

Read @ AO3 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 1

It’s been a few days since the last conversation with Cassian, and Jyn finds herself both worried and on the edge. Every time her phone has rung, or vibrated, she has rushed to see if it’s him. And he has only sent her one message that read, ‘Will have a busy couple of days, sorry.’

And sure, she understands hard days at work. But for the first time it hits her how different Cassian and hers life it is. Her busy or hard include hot kitchens and sometimes tempers, writers block on top of that sometimes, too. But she has no idea what hard or busy days include for him. Sure, she’s heard about twelve to fourteen hour days, and those must be terrible… and oh. That’s probably it.

Fortunately, Cassian is a gentleman and sends her another text that reads, ‘Permission to send you something?’

She smiles, sure, they’re in a strange limbo of relationship right now, because she’s not quite sure she’s ready to call him her boyfriend. They haven’t even had a first day, goddamn it. But she’s sure he could send her whatever he wanted without her permission, but she’s touched at his respectfulness. ‘Sure. Thanks in advance.’ She sends back along with her address.

And Cassian doesn’t disappoint. A few days later, he sends her a large white bouquet of peonies, a favorite book of his, some expensive chocolate and a bottle of wine. She looks at the loot and she feels like she hasn’t felt since she was a teenager in the throes of a first love, she’s giddy with excitement. The flowers smell wonderful and she opts to use the fine vase she got from her mom and places them at her desk, the book goes to her bedside – it’s a poetry book, the wine to the small shelf she has for wine and alcohol bottles and the chocolates also join the book, after all, what better way to end the day than with a fine chocolate? She send a text, ‘Thank you, everything’s wonderful’.

Cassian’s reply comes surprisingly swift, ‘Enjoy, Jyn. Talk to you soon.’

‘Okay.’ She replies and stands there in her bedroom as she stares at her book and chocolates. But then stands and opts for doing more work on her book, and now, she has something pretty to look at when she can’t think of what to do. Now she was really eager to go on a date with Cassian. He wouldn’t disappoint, she was sure now.

A couple of days later, the message is, ‘I’m free now, can you video chat?’

‘Sure.’ She replies and before she opens up the video, she brushes her hair. Sure, he has seen her without much make up, but that doesn’t mean she has to be a complete slob and have her hair be a mess. Specially the mess it always gets after dance class.

“Hey Jyn,” Cassian’s smiling when she finally answers. “Did you liked my gift?”

“Yes,” she smiles back. “It was very thoughtful of you. The wine is delicious and please don’t get me started on the chocolates. Haven’t finished the book, though, but it’s lovely so far.”

If anything, Cassian’s smile widens and his eyes seem to sparkle, even on the screen. “Good, good! Listen, the filming nearly finishes, and I was wondering, since I’m going to be in New York afterward, would you like to meet in person?”

“Meet or go on a date?” She tilts her head, she would like to know what sort of meeting it will be, she has, after some pride in her and she would like to be dressed correctly for it.

“You don’t mince words, huh?” Cassian doesn’t seem bothered. “A date, miss Erso. I think I would very much like to take you on a date.”

She feels herself relax and her lips curl upwards, “Then yes, Mister Andor. I would actually like to be taken on a date.”

“Excellent!” Cassian beams at her. “Do you want to pick the place? Or do you want me to surprise you?”

“You know what? Surprise me. I would very much like to be surprised. I’m intrigued to see the places you like and think are date worthy.”

“Very well, then leave it up to me.”

“Any ideas how should I dress? I don’t want to show up in jeans to a dress sort of date.”

Cassian laughs, “How about this? I’ll plan the date, and make the necessary arrangements and when it’s all settled, I’ll let you know what sort of outfit it is.”

That sounds good to her, “Very well. I like that. I’d hate to ruin the date.”

“You could never ruin the date… not unless you showed up with a trail of papparazi behind you.”

She snorts, she doesn’t know anyone in the media, and even if she did, she’s not like that. “I would never.” And it’s true. She has never been one to watch gossip shows or read the magazines at the supermaket, it doesn’t interest her. She’s of the firm believer that people deserve their privacy. But she understand why Cassian would mention it. “But I get it. And rest easy, I don’t like other people up in my business either.”

“I believe you. You seem the kind of woman who’ll fight an army to keep her privacy.”

“That’s a surprisingly accurate read!”

“Well, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” She looks at him for a moment. He looks a bit tired. “Is the filming doing okay?”

“Yeah, just had a heavy week, but everything’s going well. Should have things wrapped in a couple of days, I want to be home a day or two before I take you out though, wouldn’t do for me to fall asleep in the middle of a date thanks to jet-lag.”

“That would suck. But glad the movie is nearly done.”

“Yeah, I’ll be taking six months off before I start to film another, so I’ll have some time to rest.”

“Yeah, you should. God, if I could take six months to rest at work that would be amazing.”

“You’d have time to finish your book?”

“Yes. But I even if I complain about my work, I like cooking. It’s a creative outlet for me too.”

“I imagine it is.”

“It has its ups and downs, but it’s a good fit for me. The same way movies might be for you.”

“I think so. There is something freeing in just letting other sides of you ‘come out and play’ if you will. I do in movies what I’d never do in real life.”

“Sounds fun. Must be quite liberating.”

“It is…” Cassian looks away at a knock. “Jyn, I gotta go, my assistant is calling for something. See you in person real soon.”

She nods. “Take care, and see you soon.”

“Likewise Jyn, bye.”

She remains looking at the screen even after he has to log off. There is something magnetic about Cassian that pulls her in. He seems so down to earth and not at all like the celebrity she had expected him to be. And now, she’s the lucky one that will go on a date with him.

That is the thought that startles her.

But she feels herself grin widely. She understands in that moment that he might be an actor, but he’s still a person. And she’s quite excited to see what makes him thick in person. She turns the computer off, she’s not in the mood to write tonight.

She makes her way back to her bedroom, she head straight for her wardrobe. She inspects every piece that hangs there and making mental notes to which ones she could still use for that date. She finds some black jeans and her favorite leather jacket, she could get herself a nice blouse in case they went for a casual date.

But she needs a dress. The only one she has is a black one, but it’s more for clubs and dancing than a date. She’d have to shop, but for once in her life, she doesn’t mind. The excitement over the date is bigger than her usual dislike for shopping. Also, thank fuck for online shopping.

That in mind, she closes her wardrobe again rushes to the bath. It’s getting late and she needs a shower, she didn’t have the time before, but now, she does. The bath relaxes her a bit, but she’s still too excited to sleep, so she lays in bed, book in hand and reads until the words begin to blur.

Two days later, she receives a text from Cassian, it reads, ‘Casual. Let’s have fun.’

She smiles, and lets the wave of relief wash over her. Her dress will arrive soon, but still, she is happy at the thought of having the chance to meet him without any sort of pressure. Something fun and casual give a different sort of chance, she wants to see him be casual, not with the feel that he has to get it perfect at the first try. So she sends him, ‘Very well, let’s have fun.’

#RebelCaptain #cassian x jyn #jyn erso #cassian andor #rogue one #rogue one fic #au: celebrities #au: modern #multipart: the actor in the app

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thephantomofthe-internet · 4 years

Text

Read into Me Chapter 5: Romeo and Juliet

Steve Harrington x Reader

CATCH UP ON THE SERIES HERE

Words: 2,955

Warnings: Swearing, slut shaming, bullying mention

Tag List: @divinity-deos @thecaptainsgingersnap @wolfish-willow @scoopsohboi @herre-gud-nej @clockworkballerina @maddie1504 @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary @banjino-in-the-hole @buckysarge @wildcvltre @stanleyyelnatsiii @unusuallchildd @n3wtscaseofniffler5 @peterparxour @alwaysstressedout @linkispink1995 @asharpkniffe @a-big-ball-of-idk @used-avocado @mochminnie @sledgy14 @the-creative-lie @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @ggclarissa

After that afternoon, you spent practically every day after school with Steve, either in his bedroom or the library. It was weirdly nice. You didn’t always talk; mostly you worked in silence, Steve answering English questions or doing work for other classes and you doodling. You’d finished the sketch of Steve you’d started in his bedroom the same night you’d started it. You were actually quite proud of it; you’d managed to get the shadows on his face to make his face look hollow and strange, not beautiful like it usually appeared. And yes, you were comfortable with calling him beautiful. You found a lot of your subjects beautiful, they all fit into an easy collection of strong, attractive faces that could be found in Hawkins. Hawkins Most Beautiful: the collections of portraits labelled themselves.

Steve called you fairly often as well; usually on the days when you didn’t meet up he’d call so he’d have someone to keep him company as he worked. He seemed lonely to you. From your conversations, you learned little of his supposed friends, but you learned a fair bit about his family. Both his parents were rarely home. His father worked in the city and kept an apartment there, keeping him as far away from home as possible most of the time. His mother was home more often, but kept her hours in certain places, leaving him home alone most of the time. So it seemed, he was ignored past the age of twelve. You sympathized with that, your own parents weren’t exactly present, albeit for different reasons. He asked you a lot about Samantha, which didn’t bother you; you could talk about her far more than you could yourself.

“I can’t honestly say that I even really know her…” Steve laughed. You were sat in his bedroom one evening, the sun setting in creamy red swirls, ominous strawberry pieces in homemade ice cream. Sweet and yet worrying for reasons beyond you for the time being. You were sat at his desk, leaning back in his desk chair, turning left and right. Steve was sprawled out on his mattress, feet kicking beyond him casually, his papers spread out in front of him.

“Yeah, she doesn’t really associate with some of your friends. Tina isn’t really our biggest fan…” you replied, smiling softly. The memory of Samantha dumping a miniature carton of chocolate milk on her head in the seventh grade flashed through your mind, her shrill screech making you chuckle.

“Oh yeah? What’s up her ass?” Steve asked, turning onto his side to look at you fully. He looked incredibly posed and uncomfortable, his head placed in his palm and his ankles stacked neatly one on top of the other.

“They used to be best friends, before I showed up. Once I was on the scene, Tina decided that I was someone to bully and Samantha decided that she wanted to be my friend. They fell out because of it and Tina started bothering both of us. She stopped once we were in middle school.” You explained, pulling one of your knees to your chest.

“Tina’s a bitch…” Steve muttered, shaking his head solemnly.

“She’s got such a thing for you.” You chuckled, watching as his face coloured. You continued “Vicki too…they want you so bad.”

“How’d you know?” Steve scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. His face was still pink, it was almost adorable.

“Oh my god, they spend every class with their heads so far up your ass!” you linked your fingers together and pulled them under your chin. You batted your lashes at him with wide eyes, starting into an imitation of Tina “Oh…Stevie, tell me more about your basketball game…oh Stevie you’re soooo strong!”

Steve pulled the pillow from the head of his bed, throwing it at your head. “Oh shut up!” he groaned. You caught the pillow, chucking it back at him, smacking him square in the face.

Steve was great to hang out with. But that sort of friendship didn’t seem to transition outside the privacy of his bedroom. In school, the rules of social interaction began again. Steve returned to the arms of Tommy H and Carol, whose attentions flip between him and Billy Hargrove, and Samantha kept you busy with her questions, her arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders, squeezing you tightly into your side. And every time you passed Steve, she cracked a joke in your ear that turned you beet red.

In truth, it was clear that Samantha did not believe you when you told her that nothing was going on between the two of you. She had already decided that the pair of you were in some sort of torrid affair of Shakespearian depths. She seemed to earnestly believe that it was some secret, clandestine romance was happening behind closed doors. You didn’t really understand what she was imagining; it didn’t make sense to you. Steve was far too obviously interested in other people to be doing anything with you. You tried to point out all the girls who hung off his arm whenever she tried to embarrass you about it, but she didn’t see it.

“What you’re missing,” she said through a massive bite of cafeteria shepherd’s pie “Is that all those girls pay attention to him, but he doesn’t pay attention to them.”

“If we were having an affair, don’t you think that I would tell you about it? I tell you everything anyway.” You retorted, rolling your eyes at her.

“You didn’t tell me about Byers until I weaseled it out of you. That’s what I’m doing right now.” Samantha replied with a shrug, mushing her meal together with her plastic fork until it was a disgusting shade of brown, golden corn accenting the pile.

Talking about Jonathan Byers wasn’t fair and she knew it. In short, there was nothing to talk about. You’d had a small, teeny tiny practically nonexistent crush on the boy a year prior, but it was very clear that he didn’t like you back. Samantha had gone to Tina’s party in October, right as your crush was subsiding, and she’d told you that he was all over Nancy Wheeler. You’d had your suspicions about it, but hearing that he’d gone after someone else’s girlfriend and rejected you along the way hurt. Even though you weren’t interested, it still hurt. Samantha was still annoyed that you hadn’t told her about it until it was over, and since it was the only source of knowledge she had on your comatose love life, she brought it up all the time, much to your chagrin.

“All I do with him is sit in his room and help him study. And when I say help him study, I mean literally help him study, we do the chapter studies together and discuss the stupid book.” You said. That wasn’t the whole story; you talked a lot about life and listened to music. You were confident in saying that you were friends by now. You’d almost met his mother twice, both times in passing, and that seemed pretty important to friendships, when their family knew who you were. Still, it didn’t break into school. Steve stayed with his clique and while you tried to stray from yours, Carol or Tina would always scare you off before you spent too much time with Steve. It didn’t take much to scare you, a mere gaze could send you packing, and those two had been mastering the annoyed sneer since the fifth grade.

“Yeah, well you don’t see what I see…” Samantha muttered, turning her attention away from you and onto the loud clique at the centre of the room. Billy Hargrove was show boating, as usual, with Tina and Macy practically drooling onto their lunch trays. Vicki was trying to get Steve’s attention, her thin, spidery fingers gripping onto his wrists, speaking animatedly into his ear. Steve wasn’t facing her though; his whole body was turned away from her, and directly towards your table. Samantha noticed how he watched where you went, it’s why she thoroughly believed that something was going on beyond the surface, something even you might not realize. She knew what a person looked like when they were love struck. Often times, from the outside, it was easier to see when someone was in love with someone else before she could catch onto who actually liked her. She’d watched the women she yearned for fall in love with boring, lame men enough times to have mastered the signs of how men fall for girls. And Steve showed all the non-verbal signs. She couldn’t get a full read on you yet though.

Tommy had caught onto to Steve’s strange behaviour just as fast as Samantha had, although he wasn’t nearly as impressed. You were simply not worth the effort. Not by a long shot. You were fucking lame-never at the parties, never at dances, never at the lake on the weekends. And he knew you had money, you could afford to do all those things, you were just too much of a pussy to show your face. That was fucking pathetic! He knew his friend better than anyone else and a chick who couldn’t hang was not the girl for him. Steve liked fun girls, girls who could turn up for a last minute thing and not be weird about it. Nancy Wheeler was the farthest Steve needed to go on the preppy nerd scale, and that bitch ended up being a massive slut! Like nobody expected that shit. But Tommy knew that you didn’t have any surprises up your sleeves. Despite the fact that you never talked, he knew that you were plain about who you were. Everything was on the surface, and what he saw was not worth his friend’s time.

“Steve, buddy, I’m gonna go get another milk, walk with me.” Tommy motioned him over. Steve followed blindly, if only to get Vicki’s cold, clammy hand off him. Tommy had seen The Godfather one too many times and seemed to believe that he was some sort of small town mob boss, but Steve didn’t really mind following along with him flights of fancy. Usually they were pretty funny.

Tommy wrapped an arm around his taller friend’s shoulders, lowering his voice from the onlooker’s ears. “Listen, buddy, you gotta tell me what’s going up with that Y/N chick I mean you just keep staring at her it’s freaking weird, dude.”

“Y/N? She’s my writing partner for Lawrence’s class, she’s cool…” Steve replied, turning to catch your eye as they passed. He smiled at you, giving a short wave, which you returned with a small smile.

“She’s cool? That all?” Tommy pressed, stepping into the line and grabbing a carton of strawberry milk and the largest chocolate chip cookie in the basket. He unwrapped his arm from his shoulders, letting him go free for the first time in the conversation.

“Yeah, I mean she’s nice, what else do you want me to say?” Steve knew that was being a little defensive, but he didn’t like being questioned for his choices in friends or girls, he never questioned Tommy’s choices and he made the worst decisions most of the time. Carol was no prize and he didn’t say a word about her.

“You fucking her?” if Steve had had anything in his mouth, he would’ve spit it on the floor. Tommy didn’t even turn to look at him, paying the lunch lady in change.

“Jesus, dude, no.” Steve cried, recoiling from his friend. Tommy needed to get hit and while he didn’t have cause to do so yet, he firmly believed someone was going to do it soon.

“Hey, no need to freak out, it’s just a question.” Tommy pulled his friend back in, slapping his friend on the back. Instead of simply heading back to their lunch table, he pulled him to the side, standing next to the hot grab and go table, next to the cartons of fries.

“Now, the way I see it, you have something great going for you.” Tommy began, cracking open his milk and taking a long swig, leaving a milk film on his upper lip. “Vicki Clarke is a fucking babe and she’s begging for it! She’s all over your ass and she’s hot as hell! But you’re blowing it by spending all your time staring at some freak of nature instead. You could have a smoking hot babe at your beck and call, but you’re wasting your chances here, you see what I mean?”

“Not at all, dude.” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, looking over his friend doubtfully.

“Look man, I’m just trying to set you up for success here. Because that girl,” Tommy pointed at you slyly “Is not interested. If she was, she’d be over here, acting like Vicki is. But she’s keeping herself planted at that table with that goth freakazoid.”

Steve had no idea what to say. He opened his mouth to speak, to deny having any feelings for you, but that wouldn’t mean shit if he kept watching you. And Tommy was right, there was a girl there who wanted to listen to whatever he said, who chased him down. Vicki was there and you weren’t. So he swallowed his words and went back to his table.

“Hey, Steve…” Vicki drawled. There was red lipstick on her teeth. Steve didn’t say anything about it. It didn’t make her ugly. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, letting her rest in the crook of his neck. Vicki seemed over the moon by it and it gave him something to focus on other than catching your attention.

Samantha frowned, turning her attention back to you. “What’s Steve’s opinion on Vicki Clarke?” she asked.

“He didn’t like when I told him that she had a thing for him, why?” you retorted, flipping through the college magazine in front of you. You still hadn’t chosen anywhere to apply and applications for the major schools were due in the winter and community colleges needed their applications in for the fall semester in by the end of June at the earliest.

“Well, he doesn’t seem embarrassed now.” Samantha hooked a thumb towards the couple. You looked once, narrowing your eye to scrutinize the pair.

“Eh, that seems about right…” you murmured. You wouldn’t deny that something about it hurt. But you ignored the pain until returning home from school. As always, you called before making any moves. It was the polite thing to do, even though Steve had made the plans to meet up with you after school the night before.

The phone was picked up after three rings. Steve’s car was in the driveway, not his mother’s, so you knew who would answer. “Hello?” his voice sounded anxious and breathy, maybe even annoyed.

“Steve-o, we still studying? You wanna go grab food at Hula Burger?” Steve had introduced you to the burger place in Carmel, a little mom and pop shop with the best Cajun fries in the county, at least in your opinion.

“Oh shit…” Steve muttered “Y/N I’m sorry I-I kind of made plans, can I take a rain check on the burgers?”

“Oh…yeah, sure I guess…some other time…” you said softly. You wouldn’t try to hide the disappointment in your voice. The pain you felt in the pit of your stomach returned with abundance, not exactly sore and angry pain, but more of a black hole opening up there.

“I gotta go, I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?” Steve asked. He was already running late. He was supposed to pick up Vicki in twenty minutes and he still needed to shower. He had genuinely forgotten about his plans with you and he felt like an ass for doing so. He did want to hang out with you, but a date was a good step after being decimated by Nancy. He wasn’t super into Vicki, but it was still exciting to go out with someone new.

“Sure…” you hung up after that. You stood from your bed, dropping your book bag at your feet. You were used to spending afternoons alone, that wasn’t strange to you. Just because you’d spent a few days with a boy didn’t mean that he was yours to hold back from his life. You could’ve pulled a fit and tried to make him hold true to his word, the way your mother used to act towards your father. But those memories made you sick, you didn’t like that behaviour. But you also didn’t like being cancelled on. It wasn’t a feeling you were used to, not from friends at least. Samantha never really cancelled on you, she always made sure to tell you when she was busy and not agree to plans. She’d never cancelled on you for a date, even when she was dating Keith the creep she always put your friendship on a different level than him. Of course, she wasn’t really into Keith, she came out like a week after they started dating and broke up with him after kissing Jessica Klein at a house party, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that Steve had ditched you and it made your heart hurt.

You couldn’t help but watch him run out of his front door and into his car. You watched it pull out of his driveway and out onto the road. It was clear to you now, Steve was more interested in passing English than he was in being your friend. Vicki Clarke was the girl to pay attention, no matter how he acted around you.

So why pretend like he was your friend at all?

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anotherbeingsworld · 4 years

Text

The Bitterness of Love

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x F!MC (Casey Valentine)

Word Count: 2160

Warning: None

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters except for the storyline. All rights goes to Pixelberry.

A/N: Hi! I am back and this is... an angst. (I have missed writing angst and I want to try and write something!) I hope all of you enjoyed it, it made my heart break a little but, I am proud of it hehe! Apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes since English is not my first language! Enjoy! (Also, I just winged it on the title since I suck at it, but.. it sounds pretty cool honestly *winks*)

Tags: @bitchloveskcbaseball , @storyofmychoices , @jaxsmutsuo , @mvalentine , @princess-geek , @lahellacute , @kacie-0156 , @simp-for-villains , @annekebbphotography , @brycelahel , @mrsbhandari , @dcbbw , @choicessa , @choices-confessions , @aylamwrites

LINK TO MY MASTERLIST

They wonder what the future might be like as they glanced at their windows, one of them was on the other side of the world while the other is living their life at their ‘home’ where all the memories were stamped on every inch of the place.

She was getting ready for the day, as she curls her hair. She suddenly felt a touch, the one that she felt familiar with, his touch. The way he would play with her hair, as they took their time getting ready for work once upon a day. The room was quiet as she sat in front of the mirror, with her hands on her hair somehow, trying her very best to feel the familiar touch once more. At the end, its just a memory as she pulled her hands off her hair, shaking her head before she slips on her white coat.

He was stood up gazing through the glass windows, as the sun starts to rise. The view was breathtaking, as his mouth curled up into a smile. He would often take a seat a few minutes before the sun rises as he would enjoy the view. His life was somehow at a fast pace, as the highway but… sitting there watching the sunrise; it slowed down just for a few moments. Those moments where he could envision anything, anyone, and anywhere. He was brought into a trance, as he felt arms hugging him on his waist, along with the familiar smell of lavender shampoo that made his day. He tried to grasp the touch, but it felt invisible. Nothing was there, as he tried to reach it but… the luck runs out. He was brought back to reality once more, as he shook his head somehow trying to get rid of the memory within his mind. Soon, he found himself wearing the same old green scrubs that had helped him survive this life.

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

The day went by quickly for both of them, he was doing several surgeries whilst she was diagnosing her patients happily. Once before they were together, but… now, together was a memory where they would relieve as it were there glory days. The days where the love was a presence, happiness was something real, before heartbreak entered into the horizons.

She would sigh, as she walked through the familiar hallways where they would sneak their little moments where love was blooming. The small interactions where they had been the talk of the staff. Her pace was slowed down, as a camera was capturing her every motion slowly.

He was cheered upon after he managed to complete a complicated surgery, where he would earn endless praise. The look on his face was happiness, somehow.. it felt incomplete. His mind would search to find her, to tell her the good news. His head tilted as in the search for her, but she is not there. She hasn’t been there for a long time. He lets out a sigh, as he walks away.

The day went by quickly after, as their work captures their whole attention from the lingering feeling in their heart. Longing for one another’s touch. They would go out and meet new people, as an attempt of so-called, filling the void. Every party, every drink they had as they tried to vanished the feeling away. They would fill their desires, but… the heart still longed for a feeling named, ‘love’.

‘I am okay.’

‘Never better, man.’

They would smile through the pain, as somehow a reminder of one another appeared. The smell of her perfume, the sweet scent of his favorite shampoo, his favorite food, her favorite song. The one trigger that made their friends look at them in concern, giving them the look of sadness when it was mentioned.

The day was long for both of them, working in a hospital. It took a lot of time, as their shifts would end during the time where the darkness replace the sunlight. The moon shines brightly being their guide back home.

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

The shine from the moon reflects through his windows, as he walked into the quiet apartment. It's different from the home they had before where it's their heaven where all good memories were made. Fast forward, he sat on the couch as he stared blankly at the television in front of him, as his smile perk up remembering a memory from before.

‘C’mon Casey, its tradition to watch every popular horror movie on Halloween night.’ Bryce said as they are deciding on what to watch.

Casey lets out a sigh,

‘I have a huge hatred towards horror movies Bryce. We can watch any movie except horror. I don’t want to be awake at night to fetch water and imagining Chucky is about to kill me in that kitchen with his damned knife…’ Casey shivers at the thought.

They went quiet, as he was thinking about a solution.

‘Okay. I have a preposition, you would watch one movie and I promised to be your trusty hero if you ever encountered a living Chucky doll in our kitchen.’ Bryce couldn’t help but stifled laughter as he finishes his sentence.

He felt a huge thump as Casey throws a pillow straight to his face, as she pouts. Bryce laughs and pulled her into his embrace.

‘Alright, I am playing with you.’ He said as he starts to place small kisses on her arms making her smile despite her attempt on staying mad at him. It's impossible to stay mad at him.

‘Its serious Bryce, I had this weird dream that Chucky would kill me in my sleep and I am not kidding.’ She playfully smacked his arm as he pulled her closer.

‘Alright, alright. We will watch any Disney movie of your choice tonight if you promise to watch one horror movie with me.’ Bryce stated as Casey raised a skeptical eyebrow at his statement.

‘What’s the catch?’

Bryce smiles at the question, making her curious even more on his intentions.

‘There’s no catch, cant a man wants to make his girl happy?’ Bryce replies as his eyes soften at the sight of her. Her hair was tied into a messy bun, she was wearing his shirts with sweatpants. She still looked like the most beautiful woman in the world.

‘You are a sap Lahela.’ Casey said as she placed a kiss on his cheek.

‘You love me anyway Valentine.’ He winked as they settled on watching ‘Tangled’ and a horror classic, ‘Saw’ as the night goes on.

He smiled at the moment that flashed before his eyes, he knew he loved her at the time. But, ‘love’ sometimes can disappear. The feeling can be self-destructing, as life gets in between them. He lets out a sigh, as he gets himself ready for the night.

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

Casey made her way back to the apartment where she used to share with her friends, most of them had moved out ever since they had gotten their very own personal lives to follow. They would still visit her frequently especially Jackie and Aurora since they would crash at hers after work is over. Sometimes, they would have a sleepover and just, have fun like old times. She turned on the switch as she was meet with her living room, the darkness around her felt comforting. After placing her jacket on the rack, she immediately made her way to change as she felt needed a fresh change after the long day she had.

The sight of her room puts a smile on her face since she is ready to plop herself to bed and just let herself sleep for the night. After a perfect shower, Casey gets herself ready as she raids her closet. Her eyes stopped at a familiar number of shirts, and a pair his very own sweatpants that were folded nicely at the corner. The sight of it brought a small smile to her face, as he would leave it there during the times he would stay for the night.

She took a deep breath, as she decides to wear it after all these years. The smell of him was gone, it was replaced by the smell of nostalgia as the memories flooded in her mind. The shirt was huge on her, but… she didn’t mind. The familiar comfort from it brings tears to her eyes as she is ready to call it a night. It felt like he was hugging her through the fabric, as she pulled the covers above her head.

---------

‘When are you leaving for the conference again?’ Casey asked quietly as they were laying down with their faces a few feet from each other.

‘Tomorrow night.’ Bryce replied with a sadness in his voice, he had to go on a conference with Harper at New York for a few days and he knew Casey ain’t taking it easy.

There was silence, as the only sound that can be heard was their heartbeats. They were close enough to hear each other’s heart.

‘I’ll be back Cas, don’t worry.’ Bryce’s voice was as soft as silk, as his hands brushed the strand of hair that was covering her face.

‘I know… it will be very lonely without you here.’ Her green eyes gazed into his brown ones, as she lets out a small sigh.

‘I will be sure to leave some momento of myself when I leave.’ Bryce winks at her, causing her to smile as her head was buried into his chest.

The atmosphere was quiet, as they decided to call it a night. Casey was still awake, as she felt herself smiling at his beautiful face which is illuminated by the moonlight that was reflected through her window.

‘I love you Bryce Lahela.’ She whispered before letting herself fall into a deep slumber safely in his arms.

The day he left for New York, Casey makes her way back to the apartment. Following her routine, her eyes widen at a box on the coffee table. After placing her stuff on the counter, she rushed to it.

She opened it gracefully as a smile appeared on her face, the smile that one would have after their food would arrive. She took out the contents of the box which consists of a few t-shirts of his, and a pair of sweatpants. People might call her crazy for smiling over pieces of clothing but, she couldn’t care less. All of the contents were taken out, and the scent of him made her smile even wider.

In a flash, she gets herself ready for the night with her ‘new’ outfits, consists of his very own sweatpants and a very rugged t-shirt. Somehow, the scent of it bring comfort to her and laying in the bed felt like he was there with her. Hugging her from behind, telling her that everything is gonna be alright.

---------

Bryce was in his hotel room, as a smile appeared on his face thinking about the goodies he left for her. It wasn’t much, but… maybe he would surprise her with something even better when he gets back.

His mind was wandering at the three words that had escaped from her mouth the other night. He never thought about that, the feeling of love. He had dated a few people in the past, the feeling with them is different than what he felt for Casey. He would feel somehow at peace as he saw the smile on her face, the way his days would light up at the sight of her and the feeling of having her in his arms felt like…

Home.

The thought was playing in his mind, as he smiled. Because, he felt it too. Love.

---------

She didn’t realize her tears had fallen from the memory, it had been a long time since it happened. She haven’t seen him in a long time, the only reminder left of him was the garments that she was wearing. The nostalgia of his touch, is something she didn’t know she needed after all these years.

He was tossing and turning in his sleep, the mention of her from the snippet of his mind bothered him. He saw her face through his friends, the way she would smile in the pics as they went to dinner together. That smile, makes his heart leap in happiness. The smile that he never gets tired of seeing. After all these years, even from a thousand miles away she never failed to make him smile.

‘I miss you so much.’ The words echoed from the both of them, as the darkness around them paints as a disguise on the pain that their heart is feeling.

There were times it would work out, where their futures is filled with happiness from once upon a day but… sometimes, it’s just not meant to be. And, they have to live with it for the rest of their lives.

THE END.

A/N: Hi! I hope all of you enjoyed the ride, it was really fun to write! Don’t forget to like, comment and reblog! It really means a lot to writers. Thank you so much for reading once more. 💖😊 - A

#bryce x mc #bryce lahela #casey valentine #open heart fics #playchoices #bryce x casey #anotherbeingsworldwrites #open heart #open heart second year #bryce lahela x casey valentine #fics

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dreamnap · 4 years

Text

[fic] oh, i miss when we first met (take me out baby)

pairing: onesided sapnap/dream (dreamnap), background dreamnotfound

rating: g

genre/tags: angst and unrequited love babey! oh, and did i mention pining?

notes: me and @dream-not-found are twinning with unrequited dreamnap. go read her fic and weep. special shoutout to mitski, who i listened to exclusively on loop over and over again while writing this fic

summary: It was as much of a confession as he was going to give.

ao3 link

It could be love.

Sapnap stared at the phone, the remnants of Dream’s voice still echoing in his mind. It had been the first video call they'd done in a while— a celebratory thing, really, where he had popped in with a quick happy birthday as the clock rolled over to midnight.

Dream’s face, though blurry from the dark lighting, was still clear enough for Sapnap to get a good look at him. The last time he had seen him on camera must have been years ago, and Dream had changed immensely since then. His body had filled out some, from what he could tell, broader than before, and he now held himself with a sort of modest confidence.

It could really be love: churning, heavy, pooling into his gut.

He was handsome, in a way that still retained that characteristic boyishness Sapnap had grown familiar with from when they were kids. Handsome in the way his smile stayed in his thoughts even hours after he’d hung up.

They were friends⁠⁠—best friends, even. Nothing more than that.

It shouldn’t have been anything more than that, and yet Sapnap had been grappling with the idea for a while now, turning the words over and over in his mouth as he lay under the covers, remembering the way Dream curled up into himself a little when he’d laughed, tucking his face in the crook of his elbow as he wheezed out some stupid joke he’d seen earlier that day.

Love isn’t what he wants. It shouldn’t be love. And anyways, Dream had been mentioning a girl he'd met recently, seemed to have really hit it off with her.

It would pass. Sapnap would make sure of it.

⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—

Two weeks before high school graduation he gets asked out.

“I know it’s kind of late,” she said, so quietly that he almost didn’t hear. “But you should go out. With me.”

He did his best to remember who she is, but all he could think of was one of his woodshop classes, where she camouflaged into the crowd in the back. She had brown hair. Green eyes. Not memorable in many ways, but the relaxed smile she had given him on occasion when they walked in together had left Sapnap with all sorts of strange, familiar feelings.

She left him her number this time instead.

He pulled open her contact, and stared at the text box.

They had joked about it before, sometimes.

When you come down to my place, where should I take you out?, innocently thrown into the recording. Like as a date?

It was too flippant to be real but it had always made Dream happy, even if he cut it out from the final video, and so Sapnap knew it was never a big deal, really. Besides, it was fun to joke around with him, and everytime he laughed there was a tide of affection that rose through Sapnap⁠— slow, crashing, like the way a wave rolled into shore. The idea of love⁠—forsaken as that was⁠—always gave him a little rush of hope, almost pathetic in a way, that made him wish he’d get an answer out of him one of these days.

What kind of flowers should I get you? Roses? They’re your favorite, aren’t they?

He thought about the facetimes at midnight, where the room was so dim that his hair had looked brown, and the green of his eyes; the way he grinned so bright whenever he talked about his girlfriend.

It wasn’t his to take.

So, he texted. When would you be free?

He could work this out.

⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—

“I don’t think this is working out.”

She was sitting in the passenger seat next to him, the car parked outside of her house, quiet as radio played some generic pop song that melted into the next.

“I know.”

She wasn’t looking at him, which made it almost worse than it already was. She wouldn’t say a word, she was staring out the window. Her gaze was almost unfocused, as if she were watching something very far in the distance. The reflection glared back at him in the dark of the evening.

And maybe it was cruel but he couldn't help but feel indifferent at it all. There was pain, sure— the same kind of pain that came with letting anyone go, but it was lighter. Different. It was mutable in a way, easy to ignore, and he found himself thinking about what to make for dinner instead, or if he had any homework due before his lecture tomorrow.

The car door opened. Closed. She never even said a goodbye.

He couldn’t blame her for that.

The music in the background kept going until the words and the melody faded into a dull static, and when he got home he crept up to his room.

He debated checking Teamspeak to see if anyone was online. There was no way he was going to be able to find Dream that night: he’d messaged him about big plans and she’s gonna love this gift I got her as they’d chatted aimlessly in his discord earlier.

I’m thinking maybe a fancy restaurant but— how fancy is too fancy, do you think? he’d asked. A dinner date, then. Sapnap couldn't help but close his eyes, and thought about Dream dressed all slick, and as the heat gradually rose to his face he knew he'd never be satisfied.

But Dream had a girlfriend who he loved very much; he stood no chance, regardless.

He glanced at the monitor. Maybe if he stayed up long enough he’d catch George and convince him to do a quick PVP match, if he woke up early. Sapnap’s first class tomorrow wasn’t until sometime midafternoon, anyways, so he could afford to stay up late.

His phone remained silent from its perch on his desk. She didn’t call or text him back, and he never did either.

⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—

>i don’t think this is working out.

Dream’s message startled him awake as the small notification went off in his headphones.

There were papers scattered all over his desk, layered over the top of his keyboard and everything around it. It was normally never that bad, but now, knee-deep in midterms, organization has taken its role as the least important thing to worry about. Sapnap shoved them aside into some poor, forlorn pile to his right as he grabbed his mouse and opened up Discord to type out a reply.

>what??

He rubbed a hand over his eyes, glancing at the clock in the corner of his screen. One in the morning, which meant he had dozed off by accident over an hour ago. Another sound went off as Dream finally sent something back.

>how did you get over your breakup?

Breakup.

Breakup?

When had they broken up? Dream had seemed fine just yesterday, from what he could remember. He’d never come to him about any fights before, seemed happy. He sat there and looked up at the ceiling, trying to remember the last year, but all he could think of was the sound of Dream’s voice.

>just stay strong man

>it only hurts for a week

>or two or three

Sapnap watched the three dots fall as Dream stopped typing, and waited for a bit for a response. Minutes passed, and then an hour, and Sapnap went back to looking at his notes. He knew Dream better than almost anyone else, and he knew when he needed his space.

⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—

“Don’t you think George is kinda cute?” Dream had asked one day, while they were playing on Hypixel together.

Sapnap's first thought is what?, and he sat there, dumbfounded, until he realized that it deserved to be said out loud.

“What?”

“You know what I mean! Kind of like a cat!”

Sapnap, in fact, did not know what that meant. He hadn’t even really known George all that well up until about a year or so ago, when Dream had pulled them in a Teamspeak channel together one day while brainstorming ideas for his new video.

Objectively, George was no cuter than a pigeon or something he’d pass on the street. He was fine, really, but Sapnap couldn’t see anything overly remarkable about him. Sapnap loved to bicker with him, and he was funny⁠—a little crazy, even⁠—but Dream thought he was hilarious even doing nothing at all. Dream waxed terrible poetry about his smile, praised the way he programmed, and always talked about the way his eyes had looked the one time he did a face reveal for a video.

Sapnap wasn’t really sure what to do with this information.

Dream likes him, he thought to himself later that night after George had joined the channel. Dream tried goading him into saying I love you while he was tossing him a stack of roses in-game, and George’s face flushed a funny shade of red as he finally said the words to get Dream to stop.

Sapnap looked at the two and buried his head in his hands. He stayed like that for a very long time.

⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—

Eventually he had hit a breaking point.

They were streaming together, that’s how it went. They were streaming together, and Dream was riding off on another horse he’d picked up somewhere out in the near distance of their survival world. He was on his way to gather some more wood while he chatted with the viewers on Twitch in a relaxed lull.

Sapnap had been quiet for the most part, contented in his own small journey traversing the stripmine. He hummed along to some song from the chill beats playlist he’d pulled up half an hour ago as he tossed out andesite from his inventory. They had put George in charge of fixing a ruined flat of land near the tree farm, where it had only recently been wrecked by some creepers and poor timing. The battered holes had remained in the ground for about a week, until everyone was tired of being lazy and finally decided to do something about it. George sat there, where he complained for what must have been the last ten minutes about the lack of cobble to make stone bricks with and, well, Sapnap had figured he might as well get some more iron for all of them while he was at it.

“⁠—thank you for the dono,” Dream’s voice cut in, the rhythmic lilt of it so jarring that it snapped Sapnap out of his near daze as he dug along the grid patterns cut through stone. “Hi there. I love watching all of your videos! Can you tell George that you love him? And can you get him to say ‘I love you Dream?’ too?”

Sapnap looked over to the second monitor on his left, the donation box fading from the screen by the time he glanced at it. Dream’s stream silently continued to play in the background. He was towering up to reach the farthest edge of a large oak tree, inching towards the last log buried somewhere within the leaf blocks. The chat picked up as some fans started to bicker amongst themselves. Dream didn’t mind them—never did, really—and plowed on through with his reply.

“Haha, thank you. I’m glad you love watching them,” he said, not even missing a beat. “I tell George I love him all the time! He’s the one who never says it back. Geooorge, I love you.”

Suddenly how all of his collected material was sorted became the most interesting thing in the world to him. Sapnap took his time as he meticulously lined up the stacks for what felt like an hour. A second passed. George gave some kind of stilted laugh, the kind that he lets out when he feels too embarrassed to properly respond. Sapnap’s only thought was about the singsong way Dream called out that name in.

“See guys? It’s not my fault, I have no problem saying it! C’mon George, do it so they don’t waste their money. Just say I love you Dream.”

“I’m not saying that,” George butted in, his mic crackling a bit. His video was off but even then Sapnap could tell from how he said it that he was practically squirming in his seat. Coward. It wasn’t as if he’d never said it before, but he was always so camera shy⁠, especially with his crush—

Dream was still play-pleading for an answer, and so Sapnap decided to indulge him.

“Aww, Dream, you know I love you. You’ll always have my love, even if Georgie hates you.”

That got a reaction. Dream burst out in laughter as he breathily wheezed out a silly, off-tune heart been broke so many times while George started sputtering, trying to deny it.

Those two idiots. Sapnap’s been around them enough to know what flirting looks like. He thought about Dream, with his late night calls, where he bounced ideas off of Sapnap on what would get the best reaction from him in his newest video, and the way he had been doing it on and off for the past few months, now; George on his tiptoes until he ultimately stumbled into Sapnap’s DMs on Teamspeak, flustered over something Dream told him.

Coward, Sapnap thought, as he watched the two of them do their dance. He and George both were, he’d give him that.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

It was as much of a confession as he was going to give.

#dreamwastaken #sapnap #dreamnap #drapnap #DOES ANYONE USE THAT TAG???? IVE NEVER SEEN ANYONE CALL IT THAT #dreamnapists wya i'm here with some food #*shakes a box of cat treats*#howlfic

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theolddarkmachine · 3 years

Text

Gilded

“Dance with me.” It isn’t a question, or even a request. It’s a command. One that Keith doesn’t want to follow, but he knows he will because it wraps deliciously around his throat.

For just a moment, he gets lost in the way the twisting lights catch in Shirogane’s white hair.

“I was taught to never dance with strangers,” Keith manages, trying to ignore the way his thumb brushes across his cheek. He means it as a challenge. A gamble to see just who his target will introduce himself as.

Not that it truly matters.

Either way, by the end of the night, his heart won’t be beating.

Shirogane’s smile only widens, touching his eyes as it pulls at their corners.

“Takashi.” He says the name easily as he pulls his hand away, instead taking Keith’s empty flute from his hand and dropping both their glasses on a passing tray.

“What?” In a moment of breathlessness, he forgets to add strength behind the word and he’s certain Shirogane’s missed it.

“My name is Takashi.” Takashi Shirogane. The name makes his veins sizzle as it spins around his mind, until he is almost dizzy with it. Lost to the repeating track, Keith almost misses the expectant look leveled on him.

“Keith,” he finally manages as he swallows down the bright taste tickling the back of his tongue. Shirogane’s smile only brightens.

“Now we aren’t strangers,” he replies, offering his hand. “Dance with me.”

One Shot (6k)

Tags: Hitman!Keith, Mafia Boss!Shiro, brief mentions of knives and guns and blood but it’s all in good fun, NSFW so do not read if you are 1) at work or 2) under the age of 18

AO3

A/N: While I’m working on things I started and never finished, here’s a fucky one shot

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

“It would be the usual deal,” Kolivan’s voice is hard, authoritative as he drops a manila folder onto the table between them. Keith watches as it slides across the metallic surface, stopping just in front of him, its top left open and waiting for him to take it.

The usual deal meant that for just one night, Keith could pad his bank account for the next six months and focus on other things that he liked to do.

Like work on that vintage Harley he’d bought with his last hit’s price tag.

Don’t get him wrong, he didn’t not like his job, there were just other things he’d rather do with his time than commit systematic assassinations on people that the Altean government found to be too much of a headache to deal with by the book.

As an idealistic youth, he would have been appalled by how things were really handled by their city’s government.

Of course, that had been before he realized how lucrative a business it was to take out whoever they deemed bad guys.

Before he’d realized just how good he was at it.

Maybe this time, he could buy himself that vintage BMW R 69.

“Who’s the target this time?” He asks, voice like smoke as he grabs the envelope and pulls the photos from inside. There’s only three, and they’re hardly better than supposed cryptid shots. Even through the graininess, he can make out enough of the man in the photos to know that he won’t be an easy target.

Good, he thinks ruefully as he thumbs through them, dusting his gaze over each one in an attempt to pull further information from them.

He had always liked a challenge.

“Shirogane is the name,” Kolivan says brusquely. “Head of Atlas.”

Keith does his best to swallow the sound of his surprise as he hears the name, his thumb pressing into the corner of one picture in particular as he focuses on the sting of its edge.

In it, Shirogane is looking up at something. There’s no way for him to know what it is, the shot cutting off before it could reveal anything else, but he can’t help but think he looks pleasant. As if he’s looking up at the sky.

“The trade company?” He asks, filling his voice with a practiced casualness as if he doesn’t know the truth. There isn’t a person in the darkened corners of the city that didn’t know the name Shirogane.

That didn’t fear it.

Didn’t respect it.

For some reason, Keith had always thought he’d be older.

Even with the bright white that streaks the front of his hair, Keith can tell he’s not much older than himself. Just barely thirty, at most.

“A ruse,” Kolivan says smoothly, not trying to mask the way he rolls his eyes. They both know Keith is well aware of what Atlas is, but he plays along if only because he needs something.

“He’s the most powerful boss of the syndicates, and he’s been a real thorn in our side with how many of the politicians he has under his thumb.”

He knows that much as well. Hell, Keith can think of five just off the top of his head that he knew were under Shirogane’s influence. The syndicate boss supplied the drugs and fun times, and they provided all the legal necessities that kept him from being crushed beneath the thumb of those that opposed him and the way he’s turned their city into something dirty.

Or rather, something dirtier.

Altea wasn’t as pristine as they liked to pretend, and Shirogane had just taken advantage of that fact. As far as Keith saw it, they had no one to blame but themselves.

But who was he to turn down a paying job.

After all, even hitmen still had bills.

“And you’re finally tired of dealing with him?” Keith asks, laying the photos out beside his dagger. It’s dark metal glints like something sinister in the light.

“There’s an election coming up.” The way Kolivan says it sounds like it should be the only answer Keith needs. He’s smart enough to put together the importance of having Shirogane removed from the equation, and the quickly approaching election date. Removing his influence would almost guarantee the head seat for whoever Kolivan was throwing his support behind.

Keith regards the politician closely as he stares over him, waiting for an answer.

With the way he’s holding himself, he briefly wonders if maybe it’s Kolivan himself looking toward that seat.

Dropping his chin on an open palm, Keith tilts his head. If he was being honest, he does like the man. There’s something about him that he’s always respected, even when he’s stooping to levels as low as himself to get what he wanted.

In fact, he thinks he respects him more for making decisions others would be too scared to make.

All was fair in love, war, and politics after all.

“I want double,” he says finally, watching the way Kolivan's shoulders seize at the request. It’s a test more than a genuine request. Keith is more than fine with their usual deal, but he wants to see just how serious they are this time.

A muscle jumps angrily in his jaw.

“Fine,” he growls, thrusting the palms of his hands down on the table as he stares harshly at him. Deep in his dark eyes, Keith swears he can see the gleam of a raging fire.

Very serious, then.

“So do we have a deal?”

Dragging his stare back down to the photos, Keith traces over them one more time. They may be grainy, but there’s something about them that stands out.

Shirogane’s eyes.

They’re haunting. A grey caught between shining silver and a roiling tempest. It makes him look otherworldly.

Beautiful, even.

Keith brushes a finger across the scar that runs over the bridge of Shirogane’s nose. He’s a fighter, it says. That very thought makes Keith’s mouth pool as he grabs his dagger, flipping it around his fingers with a flourish before thrusting it into the holster strapped to his thigh.

“Alright,” he says around a pointed smile as he stands, the screech of the metal chair legs against tile making him shiver. “I’m in.”

***

The cool air is biting, nipping at the exposed skin of Keith’s face and hands as he settles himself at the edge of the grand patio with his sights set on the blaze of the city lights below. Bass thumps loudly at his back, trying to escape the glass of the mansion that stands proudly behind him like some modern emulation of the Grecian style.

Sleek, and crafted of crisp white stone and shimmering crystal, it’s ostentatious, even for the head of a crime syndicate and his black market puppets.

Looming amongst the hills outside the city, it’s like a vengeful god watching over the very people that everyone inside viewed as nothing more than systematic pawns in their own sick games.

Greed, hunger, and violence made a home within the mansion’s walls, twisting and moving in its malevolence to the beat of the loud music emanating from the great hall.

The weight of it had been stifling, pushing Keith from the decadent interior and grinding, drunk bodies and instead towards the outdoors in a vain attempt to escape the crush of it against his shoulders.

Almost an hour in, and he still hadn’t so much as caught a glimpse of the night’s main attraction.

Shaking his head slightly, he ducks his scowl behind the rim of his glass. The sharp bite of his champagne coats his tongue and washes away his disappointed thoughts as he silently wonders if Shirogane was even there.

It would almost be fitting if he wasn’t. The man was practically mythic, darkening the streets of the city that burned so brightly below him now, and doing so without ever revealing his own hand.

Shirogane, in his own right, was nothing more than an untouchable shadow.

Lowering his glass, Keith presses the base of his forearms against the crystal barrier that separates him from a deadly fall as he took it all in.

Even with her dirty secrets revealed to him, he still finds the city beautiful.

Alluring, even, as her lights flicker like stars that had fallen from the heavens.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” A voice rumbles beside him, mired in a strength that Keith can hear, even over the thump of the bass against its confining walls. Its sudden appearance makes him jump slightly, his senses racing to catch up as he snaps his attention to the newcomer. His arrival had been silent, void of any presence at all. There’s a danger in it. The kind that blankets his skin with the uncomfortable tickle of dread and raises the hair along the back of his neck.

There’s a moment, suspended on his bated breath as he openly stares at the man beside him. Dressed in a dark suit, accented by even darker floral embroidery and velvet lapels, he is a paragon of authority. It rolls from him in waves as his silver eyes flay Keith’s skin right there on the sprawling patio.

He knows he should feel something like fear.

Or failure.

Being seen by the mark is something to be avoided. The best never let themselves be seen at all.

That much Keith knows.

But this is a first, and he can’t help but track the bright white of a scar peeking up from the open neck of Shirogane’s unbuttoned dress shirt.

The pictures Kolivan had hadn’t done him any justice at all.

Sipping the warming champagne in his hand, Keith counts to five in a vain attempt to clear the sudden fog clouding his thoughts.

“If overly done showcases of excess turn you on,” he says with a shrug, balancing his words on nonchalance as he emerges from his glass. The bite of it is meant to deter, only it seems to have the opposite effect on the mafia boss. Lips quirking at their edges, he languidly draws his stare down Keith’s frame. It lingers in the most damnable of places, the headiness of it going straight to his head more so than any of the champagne has before his gaze continues its trek.

An appreciative hum burns through the night air as Shirogane takes a sip of his own drink.

Bourbon, Keith thinks as light catches the amber liquid.

“I haven’t seen you around here before,” Shirogane volleys, arching a brow in silent question and something that feels a lot like a warning as he leans a hip against the same crystal holding him up. Keith’s heart responds with a sharp kick at the top of his ribcage, filling him with a nerve he’s never felt before. It’s raw as it works against him in crashing waves timed with the thumping bass of the music inside.

“Maybe you just aren’t observant,” he says, swallowing around the beating lump that’s stuck in his throat, offering what he hopes is a reassuring smile. Shirogane, to his credit, takes another sip as he languidly pulls another all consuming stare over him.

It feels as if he truly sees him. It’s one thing he shouldn’t want, yet he can’t help the small curl of warmth that burrows deep in his chest that makes him think that maybe he enjoys how it feels to be seen.

Making a sound in the back of his throat in disagreement, Shirogane shakes his head.

“I’m always observant when it comes to pretty things.”

A retort sticks to the inside of his throat as his mouth goes dry, eyes widening as he openly stares now.

“Do you know who I am?” Shirogane continues and it sounds like a test. It’s Keith’s turn to shake his head as he tries to quiet the pulse rivaling the sound of music in his ears.

“No,” he says as he tips his chin up in an act of defiance. The man’s smirk goes sharp with dark humor as he keeps his eyes on him, reaching forward with his metallic hand that glints ominously with the light. There are numerous stories about that arm, and most, Keith knows, are just rumors. But there’s one story in particular about how that arm had gotten him to the head of Atlas in the first place, that seems mired in truth.

It’s a weapon of the highest caliber. One with a death list a mile long, but resting against his cheek, it feels soft and oddly warm.

“Dance with me.” It isn’t a question, or even a request. It’s a command. One that Keith doesn’t want to follow, but he knows he will because it wraps deliciously around his throat.

For just a moment, he gets lost in the way the twisting lights catch in Shirogane’s white hair.

Not that it truly matters.

Either way, by the end of the night, his heart won’t be beating.

Shirogane’s smile only widens, touching his eyes as it pulls at their corners.

“Takashi.” He says the name easily as he pulls his hand away, instead taking Keith’s empty flute from his hand and dropping both their glasses on a passing tray.

“What?” In a moment of breathlessness, he forgets to add strength behind the word and he’s certain Shirogane’s missed it.

“Keith,” he finally manages as he swallows down the bright taste tickling the back of his tongue. Shirogane’s smile only brightens.

“Now we aren’t strangers,” he replies, offering his hand. “Dance with me.”

Flicking his gaze between the Atlas leader and his outstretched hand, Keith mentally admonishes himself for even entertaining the idea. He really shouldn’t.

This is a dangerous game with high stakes, and Keith is one of the best players if only because he doesn’t make mistakes, and this is the biggest of them all.

Yet, trapped beneath the weight of Shirogane’s sharpened smile, an electric pulse across his chest tells him he’s going to make it anyway.

After what feels like an isolated eternity, Keith reaches out and takes his hand.

***

It’s decidedly warmer inside the mansion as Keith follows behind his mark, dragged forward through the flush of dancing bodies by the strong hold of his metallic hand. He feels the warm wetness of sweat as it gathers at his collar.

Letting his eyes wander across the crowd, he can’t help but feel underdressed in his oxblood dress shirt and tight fitted black pants amongst the sea of couture velvet and leather.

The only part of his ensemble that truly fit in with the theme, had been the leather garter belt that cinched his waist and ran straps down his hips and towards the garters at his thighs. Accented with shining metal buckles and rings, it was the perfect accessory to fulfill his stolen invites dress code, while simultaneously offering the perfect camouflage for the thin knife that weighed heavy against the front of his hip where it was hidden in the leather.

Shirogane’s hand grips tighter in his, pulling him back from the sharp blade of his thoughts and passed a group that had gathered right there on the dance floor.

Bodies turned golden by paint and metallic latex sway through the dense crowd, their skin catching light like the precious metal it’s meant to personify.

They’re meant as party favors. An offering to Shirogane’s guests, there are very few in the crowd that don’t show telltale signs of attention.

With gold peeking above collars and smeared across mouths, it’s obvious the type of favor that they’re meant to provide.

A golden woman eyes him with a hazy stare as she peels herself away from the throng of sweaty bodies, reaching toward him with a molten smile filled with intent. Sidestepping easily, Keith barely spares a glance back to see her hands land instead on the man who had been behind him.

Attention is not something he wishes to seek here.

At least, not her attention. The dangerous thought runs electric through him as he turns his own focus back to the broad figure pushing through the crowd before him.

It hadn’t escaped his notice that Shirogane was also missing the glittering touch of any gold.

Shirogane’s hold tightens briefly as he tugs him sharply towards him, twisting him so that Keith’s back hits his chest. A shiver traps itself between them as he looks out over the secluded corner that the mafia head had brought them to. There are few bodies here, and fewer wandering gazes as they melt into the shadows just barely touched by the swirling lights above.

“Not a fan of my gifts?” He growls close to Keith’s ear, the heat of his breath making the onyx waves around it dance as he closes his hands on either side of his hips.

A sharp spark rocks through his veins and makes his pulse leap as Keith realizes that they’re so large, they almost encircle his waist entirely.

Pressing back into his touch, he brushes his fingertips of the backs of Shirogane’s hands, humming over the dual sensation of burning skin and cool metal before he runs his touch up the length of the other man’s arms, following the path over his shoulders, and then behind his neck. With a gentle tug, Keith leads his face closer as he lets his head fall back until his lips brush against the skin just below Shirogane’s ear.

“I always preferred silver,” he says brusquely. Shirogane’s hips grind against his own, the harsh line of his length catching against his ass as he rumbles a pleased sound that vibrates through Keith’s back.

The mafia leader’s nose drags a staticky line down along his bared throat, the tickling rasp of stubble pushing a secretive smile across his lips. Keith runs hot as he feels lips press a soft kiss to his thrumming pulse followed by the sharp pinch of teeth.

“Good,” Shirogane says possessively, voice going dark as he presses the single word into his skin like a brand.

Rolling his hips back, Keith sucks his bottom lip between his teeth as he feels Shirogane’s hands trace along the top of his harness. They linger at the buckle just above his belly button before they start their slow decent down the leather straps. Fire, bright and impossibly hot, lays in the wake of his touch as his palms as they pause at Keith’s hips, holding him close as he languidly rolls against him again.

A quiet moan escapes his lips before Shirogane’s hands continue their curious trail down toward the garter around his thighs. It isn’t until his fingers skim mere centimeters from the hidden hilt of his knife that Keith feels his heart jump with the intoxicating thrill of danger.

Quick as an adder, Keith’s hands catch Shirogane’s, pulling them away roughly as he spins to face the man. Fixing him with a look of clear intent, he places places his hands low on his own back before he pushes up to catch Shirogane’s mouth in a bruising kiss.

It’s almost terrifying, the way the electricity that shocks between them heightens into a full blown storm as Shirogane returns the kiss in kind, pressing his tongue to the seam of Keith’s lips without looking for invitation. He is a man used to taking, and Keith is all too willing to give as he lets him in.

Swallowing down the deep growl that Shirogane pushes into his mouth, Keith rolls his hips in primal search of friction. The fires of Shirogane’s touch blister down his back as he lets his hands wander lower, stopping only as they grab tightly at Keith’s ass.

“Takashi,” Keith hears himself moan, the breathiness of his voice turning it into something sinful.

Pulling back quickly at the sound of his name, Shirogane stares down at Keith with a stare mired in danger. Pinned beneath it, Keith understands how he had found his way to the top of a mile high pile of death, and he wonders distantly if he might be in over his head.

He thinks he might be since his nerves light with the need to run, but his veins fill with a desperate need to get lost to the depths of the darkness in those eyes.

Keith knows which wins out when Shirogane swipes his metal thumb across his bottom lip, collecting the wetness there before his lips quirk in a triumphant smirk. Wordlessly, he clutches at Keith’s arm, pulling him once more through the crowd and toward the staircase situated toward the back of the room.

Taking the stairs quickly, Shirogane gives a deft nod toward the two guards that step easily aside for him at the top.

“Keep an eye on things,” he orders harshly, voice promising a violent retribution should they do otherwise before he falls back into determined silence as he leads them down a long hall toward a set of heavy looking doors.

Keith only gets a moment to admire the dark wood before he finds himself pushed through them, his back slamming back against it before the door even finishes closing.

Lips press harshly against his own, continuing where they left off as Shirogane licks the back of his teeth. Hands return to his hips, tightening enough to bruise before he drags them down towards the back of Keith’s thighs. With a sharp tug, he’s pulling him up, crushing him between the door and his taller frame as Keith folds his legs around his hips.

The new position offers more friction as he rolls against Shirogane and scratches at the back of his nape. It’s intoxicating, and Keith thinks he could lose himself to this. Could let himself pretend this was just a hookup and that he wasn’t an assassin and Shirogane wasn’t a murderer.

If only he could just let himself.

Oh, if only, if only.

Slowly dragging a hand down from the back of his neck, Keith follows down the track of Shirogane’s shoulders and down his arm, coming to a rest at his own thigh. Keith’s fingers close around the metal ring there, slowly pulling the hidden knife free of its concealed sheath as he sucked Shirogane’s tongue further into his mouth. Blindly positioning it at his ribs, he lets a slow exhale through his nose.

Then he feels the cold press of a muzzle beneath his chin.

“I see you brought a knife to a gun fight,” Shirogane says, voice roughened by fire and slick delight. His eyes dance with the same fiery excitement as he stares down at his would be killer.

“Don’t underestimate what I could do to you with this knife before you can even think to pull that trigger,” Keith hisses, pressing the tip of his knife into Shirogane’s skin just hard enough to know he’ll feel the sting.

Instead of abating the bright look in his eyes, it earns him a low growling moan that’s almost animalistic as Shirogane rolls up against him.

“Oh, baby, you do know how to talk dirty.”

The flames deep in Keith’s gut flare, threatening to consume him as he feels himself grind down, meeting Shirogane’s thrusts mindlessly.

“Tell me one reason I shouldn’t finish my job right now, Shirogane,” he tries to snarl, not believing his own threat but praying nonetheless that the man before him does. If only to save a bit of face.

Never has he failed to complete a job.

But never has a job looked quite as good as Takashi Shirogane.

Keith sees the moment he picks up on his bluff. It’s not subtle at all as Shirogane’s eyes brighten in challenge. Pushing upward with the gun’s muzzle, he tilts Keith’s head back just enough to give himself better access to his throat. He tries— and fails— to swallow down the keening sound that escapes his chest as Shirogane laves a wet kiss just beneath his ear.

“Because I,” he starts, only pausing to place another open mouthed kiss just inches lower. His lips hover just above his quickened pulse for a moment, his breaths cooling the slick from his mouth before continuing.

“Can make you feel,” he pauses again to bite at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. It’s a dull pinch that is soothed slightly when Shirogane sucks gently at the skin.

“So good,” he finishes before licking a line back up the sinful path he’d trekked. Pausing to huff a small laugh that stirs the hair by Keith’s ear, he pulls back to level him with his stare. It shines like the polished metal forcing his chin upward, and it feels twice as dangerous.

“And, I so would hate to ruin such a beautiful face.”

The sharp clatter of metal on the marble floor pierces through the quiet din of the room as Keith drops his knife, instead grasping at his nape to pull him close for another heady and angry kiss. He swallows Shirogane’s triumphant sound, barely registering the heavier sound of his gun joining the dagger on the floor.

“I’ll still kill you,” Keith growls into his mouth, hips coming down against Shirogane’s as he walks them toward the bed at the back of the room. The world tilts as he lowers them both, pushing Keith back into the plush pillows at the headboard. Shirogane’s weight is all encompassing, and he covers Keith wholly with his body, trapping him amongst the satin covered bedding before he finally decides to pull away.

“I look forward to it, Keith Kogane,” he rumbles wickedly.

Keith’s name on his tongue should scare him, he knows that. It means his cover was blown before he had even arrived, and yet he can’t quite bring himself to care as he arches up into Shirogane’s touch as he grasps him through his pants.

Mouth cracking wide around a gasp, Keith rocks up into his grasp, distantly aware of his other hand as it makes quick work of the buckles of his harness.

“Tonight, though, I want to make you scream,” Shirogane says, pushing the harness away from his waist and legs, tugging at them sharply and freeing them from his body. Quickly discarding them off the side of the bed, he loosens his hold on Keith’s length, instead dragging that hand slowly up toward his stomach.

“Does that sound okay with you, baby?” He asks, not waiting for an answer before he grabs at Keith’s shirt and rips it open, exposing his heaving chest to the air of the room. Keith doesn’t miss the way Shirogane’s eyes trail across the goosebumps that race along his skin.

“Yes,” he croaks, fisting his own hand into the lapel of Shirogane’s jacket and pulling at him.

“Good,” he laughs darkly before he lets himself be pulled back to Keith’s mouth. Licking into the warm wet heat, he lets his hands wander until they find the buttons of Shirogane’s jacket. Clumsily tugging them from their holes, Keith gives a small hum of pleasure as he finally pushes the jacket back from his shoulders.

Without pulling away from his kiss, Shirogane pulls the jacket the rest of the way off before dropping it on the ground beside the harness. The sound of ripping fabric plays in harmony with their gasping breaths as Keith rips his shirt in kind, letting his hands find the hard lines of Shirogane’s toned stomach as the ruined shirt joins their other clothing on the floor.

Feeling the muscles flutter at his touch, Keith smiles into the kiss as he lets his hands roam across the newly exposed expanse.

Keith hands run up the length of his flank, the tickling brush of his palm earning a full bodied shudder as Shirogane quickly undoes the buttons of his pants. It’s then that he finally pulls away to violently tug the confining pants from Keith’s frame.

The assassin admires the way Shirogane’s chest heaves with his breath as he towers over him, and the way sweat has gathered along his collar. In the light, it’s almost as if his skin is gilded just like his so called party favors on the dance floor, and the very thought makes Keith ache as he reaches back out toward him.

Leaning back into Keith’s arms easily, Shirogane rolls against him as his mouth finds his pulse once more. Sucking dark marks into his throat, Keith finds himself burning with the knowledge that he’ll wear Shirogane’s marks for days.

A contented sigh parts his lips as he rakes his nails down the meat of Shirogane’s shoulder blades, relishing in the way it makes the man move against him. The power that radiates through Shirogane is a near palpable thing, one that lights him with awe and the potent thrum of a want so strong that he can’t breathe around it.

Pressing his face upward into his shoulder, Keith tries to force the air in and out of his lungs as Shiro continues decorate his skin with a glorious collection of purples and blacks. A particularly wet suckle pushes what little air had still been left in his lungs through his mouth.

Chasing after it, Keith presses his teeth to Shirogane’s shoulder and bites down hard, mouth filling with the salty, metallic tang of blood.

A grunted sound of delight and pain vibrates through him as Shirogane’s hand fists tightly in his hair, and then he finds himself flipped with half his face shoved into the mattress.

“Baby,” Shirogane hushes, and Keith can’t tell if it’s meant to be a praise or an admonishment as the hold in his hair still dances along the line of pleasure and pain. His other hand caresses his hip before gently pulling it upward so that his ass is tilted upward. There’s the soft sound of leather pulling from metal as Shirogane undoes his belt, followed by the quiet rustle of fabric before he feels the hot drag of his length between his cheeks.

The sound Keith makes is high and reedy as he feels the head drag over his aching, wanting entrance.

“You’re going to be so good for me,” Shirogane growls as he leans over his back to place the words right at his ear, grip tightening on his hair.

“Only if you’re good for me,” Keith grits, bucking back into him. His eyelashes flutter at the soft brush of Shirogane’s groan at his ear.

“Yes,” he says, sounding almost as needy as Keith feels.

The heat along his back disappears as Shirogane pulls away. It feels like Keith is caught in a void in time as the only touch that remains is Shirogane’s grasp on his hair, before he feels the slick glide of a finger over his rim.

Bracing his arms outward, Keith clutches at the satin beneath him as he the sure press and gentle give as Shirogane presses his finger inward.

“Takashi,” Keith exhales as he pushes back against Shirogane’s hand. It’s the only invitation he seems to need as he starts to work him open with deft fingers. Soon after the first, he adds a second, and not too long after that, a third. His grip on the sheets only tightens at the rushed speed of Shirogane’s work, but still delighting in the sting of his intrusion. Each and every brush of his fingers moving inside him fans the flames in his gut until he’s certain his skin won’t be able to contain the fire.

He’s going to burn, and he’s going to take this whole damn mansion down with him.

Keith presses his smile into the mattress at the thought.

“Are you ready, baby?” Shirogane asks as he pulls his fingers away. The blunt tip of his dick nudges at his entrance before his hand finds itself on his hip. With the breadth of them both, his fingers nearly touch at his navel, just above where Keith’s dick stand hard against his stomach.

“Please, Takashi, please,” he hears himself almost sob before he pushes back against Shirogane, teeth gritting as the thick head pushes into him. Their moans are twinned as he starts to push further into him, inch by grueling inch, until he bottoms out.

Keith thinks he might just split apart with how full he is as Shirogane pauses in his movement, allowing them both a moment to just breathe.

Each of their gasps come in sync as Keith tries to find a way to ground himself. It’s all too much and yet not enough and he desperately needs. He aches with it, and he thinks he says as much because then Shirogane is moving in earnest.

He sets a brutal pace as he jackhammers into him, each staccato snap pressing Keith’s further into the mattress. There’s a brief moment of bitter clarity when he registers that the high pitched keens that match the tempo of Shirogane’s thrusts are pulling from his own mouth.

Keith’s knuckles protest as his grip tightens further in the sheets and he turns his face down into the mattress to muffle his sounds.

A palm traces down the line of his spine, traveling between his shoulder blades and finally wrapping around his throat before it wrenches him upward and back into Shirogane’s lap. The sudden change in position pushes him further into Keith, rubbing just right inside him and exploding stars in his vision.

Shirogane’s hold on his throat squeezes lightly as his other hand brushes across the expanse of his hip and finds his painfully hard length. Another high pitched gasp rocks through Keith at the contact, his hips pushing up into Shirogane’s fist and then coming back down on his cock before repeating the motion at a frenzied pace.

His vision starts to blur at its edges as Keith turns his head over his shoulder, blindly searching for Shirogane’s mouth. Appeasing him, he leans in close, pressing their open mouths together and swallowing each and every one of Keith’s punched out sounds.

The fire in his belly reaches an unimaginable pitch as it spreads through him. It races along the lines of his veins as he pushes his hands back to clutch at Shirogane’s shoulders, and as his toes begin to curl. Biting down around the aching burn, his teeth catch sharply on Shirogane’s lip, causing him to tighten his hold on Keith’s length.

White light, bright and inescapable, blots out his sight as he comes with the taste of Shirogane’s blood and violence on his tongue. His fist continues to pump over him, smearing his softening cock with his own cum as he chases his own pleasure and follows shortly after with a shout.

Keith’s hold on his shoulders tightens for just a moment as he tries to catch his breath, timing each inhale and exhale with the loud sound of his heartbeat crashing in his ears. The edges of his vision continues to blur as the soft, hazy brush of his pleasure feathers out through him, replacing the roiling heat of the now sated fires.

He thinks he hears a soft question at his ear, followed by the hush of a laugh on his cheek, but its all lost to him as he starts to settle into the warm depths of the after glow.

Lids growing heavy, he faintly registers the slow slide of Shirogane as he pulls out of him and sets him gently on the bed. Somewhere, just on the edges of his mind, he thinks he feels the gentle drag of something warm along his skin.

Keith thinks maybe, he feels the soft touch of a kiss at his temple, but by then, he’s already out.

***

Keith’s eyes protest against the bright sunlight as he slowly blinks them open. The room isn’t one he recognizes, and neither is the bed, at least, not until the night comes crashing back into his memory like a freight train.

Sitting up quickly, ignoring the drag of the satin as it pools around his waist, a rush of adrenaline cascades through his veins as he runs an alert glare across the room.

There isn’t sign of anyone else there, or even of the night’s activities. The only proof of what happened sits at the foot of his bed in the form of his folded clothes, and something about that makes him ache.

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he pushes himself further back into the pillows so he’s sitting fully upright when a glint at the corner of his eye catches his attention.

Turning to the nightstand beside him, he can’t help the slow, hungry grin that turns his lips upward.

A note lays atop the mahogany with his knife stabbed through it.

Catch me if you can, it says, and beneath it is a smear of gold.

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

#sheith #takashi shirogane #keith kogane #this fic has been a plague upon my home for a very long time #and i feel i finally have it where i want it SO PLEASE TAKE IT

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Off Limits, Chapter 1 (Bitney, Willaska) - Veronica/Albatross

A/N: Hey guys! This is the companion story to “No Strings Attached.” We’re tagging them both as “Just Friends” so that it’ll be easy to read the chapters in order, but once it gets complicated, I might include a guide. Both ships are in both stories, but generally, “No Strings Attached” is Willaska-focused and this one is Bitney-focused. (Link to all chapters in order, which so far is just 2.)

Summary: When Bianca meets her new roommates, she’s especially captivated by one of them. Worse, the feeling seems to be mutual.

***

Bianca hated being fucking late. It was bad enough that she’d had to drive all the way from New Orleans to California, praying that her 7-year-old Kia wouldn’t break down. But for the last leg of her trip, which should have been 45 minutes, she got caught in an accident on the freeway that turned what should have been a short, pleasant zip up the freeway into a torturous 4-hour crawl.

By the time she reached the dorms, she was fuming--not to mention exhausted. And having to lug her shit from possibly the worst parking spot in the garage did nothing to improve her shitty mood. By the time she’d achieved some semblance of order in her room, she was hot and thirsty and as cranky as she’d ever been.

She chugged about a gallon of water and then collapsed on the sofa, arm over her eyes, trying to summon the energy to think about a shower.

It was then when the front door swung open and a trio of laughing, chattering girls poured inside.

Bianca looked up. At first glance, all she saw was Blonde, Blonde, Blonde. A bunch of perfect, plastic sorority girls, exactly the type of girl she couldn’t stand. (And, if she was honest, exactly the type of girl that she always feared a little bit.) She groaned inwardly, sitting up and giving them a withering glare.

Unable to help herself, she announced, “Great...I’m living with a bunch of bottle blonde bitches.” As the words left her mouth, she realized that she was perhaps not making the best first impression. But instead of taking it back, she doubled down with, “So whose hideous leopard duvet is that?”

The Littlest Blonde burst into delighted giggles, before glancing at the (Bianca assumed) Duvet-Owning Blonde beside her and pressing her lips together contritely.

Slutty Blonde slung an arm around Duvet Blonde and said, “Calm down, bitch. Some of us are garbage pails with hideous taste. We’re still people.”

Bianca pursed her lips, determined to continue hating them all.

With that, Little Blonde skipped forward, flinging herself onto the sofa and offering a bright smile.

“Hi, I’m Courtney. You must be our fourth roommate,” she said.

She had an accent--a cute accent. Shit. Do not let the accent fool you. This Barbie doll bitch isn’t your friend.

“Wow...what gave that away, detective?” Bianca asked, narrowing her eyes slightly.

“Well…” she leaned in conspiratorially, speaking in a low voice. “It would be a little weird for you to be here, if you weren’t. So...” She finished with a flutter of lashes and another dazzling smile, green eyes dancing with amusement.

Well, fuck. Bianca was not planning to be this charmed, this quickly. The plan was to be grumpy and sulk for awhile. Foiled by a pretty face...not the first time, but still annoying.

“Genius.” Bianca tried to suppress her smile, but dimples poked through anyway.

“I knooow, right?”

Australian. Bianca winced. Surely this was some kind of karmic justice for a terrible deed she’d done as a child. After all, there was no way in hell that Bianca would get involved with one of her roommates. She was many things, but she was not that messy.

“So, are you gonna tell us your name?” Courtney asked.

“Yeah, sorry. Bianca. Hi.”

“Hi, Bianca, nice to meet you.”

God, even the way she said her name was sexy. Bee-aaaahn-cah. Ugh. Bianca was well and truly fucked.

“Hey, I’m Willam,” Slutty Blonde said, perching on the arm of the sofa. “And that’s Alaska...your roommate. You should be nicer to her; she’s cool.”

Duvet Blonde gave a halfhearted wave.

“Hi, Alaska,” Bianca said, slightly chagrined, “I’m sorry...about your lack of taste. We’ll work on it.”

Courtney giggled again, tossing her hair, still watching Bianca closely. And as much as she wanted to look away, to dismiss her as some airhead, she had to admit that something in her eyes was captivating.

“So, Bianca...where are you from?” Courtney asked.

“New Orleans,” Bianca told her.

“Oooh, have you ever been to Mardi Gras?!” she asked, eyes lighting up.

“Uhh. Yeah.”

“Did you bring us any beads?”

“Why not get out your tits and see, Court?” Willam suggested.

Courtney started to lift the edge of her shirt, and Bianca’s eyes went wide--this girl was turning out to be a lot more than she’d bargained for. Courtney glanced at her surprised face and burst out laughing again.

“Just kidding.”

“Good one,” Bianca offered, a little ashamed at the flash of disappointment she felt. Of course she was kidding; Bianca needed a cold shower.

“So, are you a new student here?” Courtney asked.

“Yeah.” Bianca cleared her throat. “I transferred from LSU.”

“Where’s that?”

“Louisiana...State...University,” Bianca explained slowly, as if she was talking to a child. Her tone was intentionally condescending, but Courtney continued her rapid-fire questions undeterred.

“Ah! Brilliant. And have you-”

“You ask a lot of questions,” Bianca said. She’d never experienced that many questions in a row, and considering her gigantic nosy-ass family, that was saying a lot. If she wasn’t so cute, Bianca would be thoroughly irritated.

“Sure does,” Willam added with an eye roll.

“Oh yeah. I know. Is it annoying you?” Courtney bit her lip, head tilted cutely.

“That’s another question,” Bianca declared stonily, pretending once again not to be charmed. And doing a piss-poor job of it, if the glimmer in Courtney’s eyes was any indication.

“Hmm, I guess it is,” Courtney said, tone lilting and gently mocking. “Sorry, I’m just trying to get to know you.”

“Maybe I should ask you some questions.”

“Maybe you should!” Courtney replied brightly. She stretched her legs--long, tan, killer legs--placing them on the coffee table and folding them delicately at the ankles. “What would you like to know?”

Do you moan in an Australian accent?

Bianca coughed, mind blanking for a moment, before admitting with a shrug, “I guess...I’m not very curious.”

“Pity. ‘Cause I’m an open book.”

“Uh. Good to know.” After a beat, Bianca offered, “So. I had kind of a shitty morning.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Courtney sat up straighter, the teasing smirk replaced with an expression of genuine concern. “Are you okay?”

“It’s fine, I just...I was actually about to jump in the shower. I’ll probably be in a better mood after that.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” said Willam, and Alaska let out a clipped laugh.

“I deserved that,” Bianca said with a nod and wry smile. “So I guess I’ll go...do that.”

With one last glance at the group, Bianca got up and walked towards her bedroom to get her things.

“What a cunt,” Willam said loudly--loud enough that Bianca knew it was for her benefit. She chuckled to herself.

“Bill!” Courtney scolded, then added, “I like her.”

“Clearly. Why don’t you go make my bed?”

“Make your own bed, dickhead!” Courtney shrieked.

The shower was much needed. Bianca could feel the stress of the day literally rinsing away, muscles relaxing in the steamy water. When she re-entered her bedroom, Alaska was lounging on the bed, flipping through a magazine. She sat down at her desk, pulling over a light-up mirror.

She took her time blow-drying her hair. Even put on some makeup. No reason not to look nice for a relaxing afternoon of getting to know her roommates, right? She pulled on a casual summer dress and sandals and then began to put everything away in its spot...blow dryer in the stackable basket with her curling iron, makeup in the case, brushes in the cup.

She turned around to Alaska, who gave her a smile.

“I like your bins,” Alaska commented, gesturing to Bianca’s compulsively organized and labeled plastic bins, lined up under her bed and stacked on the dresser.

“Thanks. And I like your...uh…” Bianca surveyed the mess on Alaska’s side of the room before settling on the word, “...piles.”

Alaska let out a loud cackle. The most Bianca had seen her laugh yet. She grinned wryly.

“I’m a little bit messy, sorry,” Alaska said.

“It’s cool,” Bianca shrugged. “To each their own.”

“I’ll keep it contained, I swear. And on my side of the room.”

“You fucking better!” Bianca exclaimed, and was rewarded with another laugh from her roommate.

***

Courtney didn’t like to admit it, but she’d had a bit of a lonely summer. She’d decided with her parents that, since she wanted to come home for Christmas again this year, it made more sense for her to stay at school, taking a few classes and working at an internship.

It usually wasn’t hard for Courtney to make friends, but somehow, she hadn’t connected with anyone. Her classmates seemed lovely, and her coworkers were nice enough too, but she missed the late-night gossiping with Willam, the chance to let loose and be silly. The girls she attempted to hang out with over the summer just weren’t the kind of unpredictable fun that Willam was. And her summer roommate was a reclusive Belgian girl who spent all of her time buried in her laptop wearing headphones.

But today, she was thrilled. Willam was finally back, and even better, she had two new fantastically wonderful roommates.

Alaska was great. A little reserved, maybe, but that was alright with Courtney. She had a great sense of humor and a genuinely kind soul that Courtney adored right away. Plus, she seemed to get along really well with Willam, which was a relief. (Courtney loved her BFF, but she knew that getting her seal of approval could be difficult.)

And then there was Bianca. Blunt and a bit abrasive, but Courtney found herself thoroughly enchanted almost immediately, reveling in her sharp wit and acid tongue. Her dark, flashing eyes. She was unlike anyone Courtney had ever met before, truth be told.

As Courtney helped Willam stuff her clothes into the closet and dresser and arrange her shoes and bags under the bed, she sighed happily, grateful to be surrounded by people with whom she could really let down her hair.

It took ages before Willam was satisfied. Well, not so much satisfied as much as resigned to accept the confines of their limited space. She turned to Courtney with a sigh, saying, “Well, it is what it is, I guess.”

Courtney laughed and suggested that they check on the others, skipping happily over to Bianca and Alaska’s open door. She pushed it in further, asking, “How are you ladies doing? Bonding?”

“Oh yeah,” Bianca said, turning around in her desk chair, large curling iron in hand. “Our periods are already in sync.”

Alaska laughed, and Courtney was glad to see that some of her earlier tension had melted away.

“How disgustingly primal,” Willam said, collapsing on the bed next to Alaska, who moved over to give her space.

Courtney settled on the floor nearby. She watched as Bianca carefully styled her hair, admiring the color—a rich, reddish mahogany brown—and wondering how she got it so shiny.

“Is your room bigger than ours?” Willa asked, pulling Courtney out of her thoughts as she looked around suspiciously.

“I don’t know. Is it?” Bianca asked.

“Bill’s pretty pissed about the closet space,” Courtney explained. “I gave her one of my drawers, but…” She shrugged, pulling affectionately on one of Willam’s bare feet, “Some people are just never satisfied.”

“I have an extra drawer, too,” Alaska offered, and Bianca’s eyebrows shot up.

“You sure you don’t want to use that for some of the stuff that’s…” she gestured to the top of Alaska’s dresser.

Looking at their spaces, Courtney could see a clear clash of styles. Bianca’s things were almost obsessively organized, lined up in containers with p-touch labels. Alaska’s side of the room was more haphazard, similar to Courtney’s space.

“Nah, she can have it,” Alaska said with a sweet smile, and Bianca responded by sticking out her tongue briefly.

Courtney giggled, seeing them tease each other, happy that they already seemed to be friends. She relaxed against Alaska’s desk chair, finally content to just let the conversation drift as it were, taking a break from her usual Oprah mode.

“So...not to be a wet blanket on all this delightful female bonding, but...where can a bitch find some decent vegetarian food around here?” Bianca asked, putting away her hairstyling tools and turning around.

“You’re hungry?” Courtney looked up at her.

“No, just thought I’d buy some food and throw it at seagulls. Yes, I’m fucking hungry.”

Through Courtney’s immediate laughter, Willam muttered, “Decent shit is mostly downtown...but edible? There’s the cafeteria next door, the salad bar over by the biology building, food court in the quad, the-”

“No, Bill,” Courtney giggled out with a weak swat at Willam’s leg. “Let’s get something different. Something better.” She decided not to add ‘for Bianca.’

Willam rolled her eyes and huffed out, “Fine then, cunt. Where do you suggest we eat?”

There was a moment’s pause as Courtney pondered over the question before thoughtfully looking up at Bianca, asking, “Do you like burritos?”

“Wow. That’s racist.”

“No, it’s not because you’re--I didn’t mean--it’s just that they’re really good and you said-” Courtney tripped all over herself to explain, flustered, cheeks growing hot. Shit, she hoped she hadn’t been offensive.

After a beat, Bianca burst out laughing.

“I was kidding, calm down. Burritos sound good.”

“Courtney, are you talking about that hole in the wall on Fair Oaks? We’ll have to take a car.”

“It’s good, and they have tons of veggie options, and you love driving,” Courtney insisted. “Plus, everything on campus will be chockers right now.”

“‘Chockers’?!” Willam repeated. “That’s so Aussie!”

“Packed, full, whatever, you know I’m right.”

“Ugh. Alright,” Willam groaned, then asked, “Alaska? You in?”

“Uh, I’m not really all that hungry,” Alaska said. “You guys should go.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m getting a little bit of a headache.”

“Oh no!” Courtney leapt to her feet. “Do you need something? I have magnesium supplements. Or, vitamin b-complex. That’s great for headaches!”

“Or, if you want something that actually works, I got Tylenol and Advil…” Bianca gestured to one of her boxes.

“I’ve got Vicodin,” Willam added. “And weed.”

“Thanks guys, but I think I just need to lay down for awhile.”

“Okay, we’ll leave you alone. Let us know if you want us to bring you back any food,” Courtney offered.

“Thanks.”

As the group trooped out of the room, Bianca grabbed her purse and then slung an arm around Courtney’s shoulder, asking, “Magnesium supplements?”

“My dad’s a doctor of alternative medicine,” Courtney giggled.

“Well, that tracks…”

***

By the time they perched on the rickety stools at the burrito place, Bianca was beyond starving. She dug into her food with a passion as Courtney resumed her questioning from earlier.

“Sooo,” she began, drawing out the word in that infuriatingly adorable Australian way, “You said that you transferred from Louisiana, right? What brings you out here?”

“Well, I’m majoring in marketing and international relations, and they have this scholarship that combines-”

“You’re an Ashford Scholar?!” Courtney exclaimed, eyes widening dramatically.

Bianca couldn’t help be a bit pleased with herself, happy that the prestigious scholarship was known even beyond the business school. Courtney was clearly impressed, and so she gave a small shrug of faux modesty.

“That’s amazing, that’s really...you know only 1 person a year gets that, right?” Courtney asked.

Bianca nodded and swallowed, then said, “Can’t wait to meet last year’s bitch. I assume they’re extraordinary too.”

Courtney giggled, resting her cheek on her hand. “So I guess that means you’re gonna have a lot of work to do. I heard those Ashford internships are seriously intense.”

“I’ll manage…”

Though her answer sounded nonchalant, she was enjoying Courtney’s obvious respect for her accomplishment. Her eyes practically glimmered in admiration.

“What about you, dollface?” Bianca asked. “What’s your major? Psychology?”

“No...although actually I did consider that!” Courtney said.

“Shocking.”

Courtney giggled, crunching down on a chip and saying, “I’m doing PoliSci.”

“Oh, cool.”

“Yeah…” she leaned in and stage whispered, “Your political system here is absolutely up the shit.”

Bianca laughed, not entirely familiar with that expression but getting the gist. She was about to agree when Willam interrupted her thoughts.

“That’s so Aussie!” Willam said, mouth muffled with food.

She assumed that was some kind of inside joke, but found herself unconcerned with being left out. What was more troubling was that until that moment, she’d temporarily forgotten that Willam was even there. She could already tell that it was a problem...how enchanting her new roommate was. Not to mention beautiful. The more Bianca looked into Courtney’s face, the more captivated she became. She cleared her throat, forcing her attention to Willam, who was working her way through a steak burrito bowl. Bianca nudged her foot.

“What’s your major, then?”

She expected a proud, boastful response but instead, there was just further silence. Conversation dropped dead for a few moments before Courtney chimed in softly with, “She doesn’t have a major yet...She’s still undeclared.”

“What?” Bianca exclaimed in amazement as a hint of pink rose to Willam’s cheeks despite her stony expression. “How can you still be undeclared? What year are you in?”

“Third,” Willam answered tensely, “And it's not that unusual. I just haven’t found the right thing yet, okay?”

If it wasn’t clear before that this was a touchy subject, the little huff at the end of her defense made it painfully obvious.

“Okay, well...cool.” Bianca grimaced awkwardly. Served her right for trying her hand at some Courtney-esque interview questions. She racked her brain for a lighter topic of conversation. “So...what do you guys...do for fun?”

“Shop,” Willam answered decisively.

“Oh! You know what we should do!” Courtney exclaimed brightly. “We should go to Cielo Plaza tomorrow!”

“What’s that?” Bianca asked, relieved that the subject change had worked.

“A mall,” Willam answered. “It’s no King of Prussia but there are a few good stores in there.”

Bianca wasn’t sure what the fuck “King of Prussia” was, but Courtney breezed right past it, happily pitching how great the activity would be.

“Yeah! And it’s so cute. We could have lunch, find some more decorations for the apartment, get some new clothes-”

“Should ask Alaska if she wants to come too,” Willam said, continuing to speak through mouthfuls of food.

“Of course!” Courtney enthused. “And then Saturday, we could go to the beach! Do you like the beach?”

Bianca did not like the beach. Sand in her asscrack was the last thing she wanted. But the idea of seeing Courtney in a bathing suit was pretty appealing…

“Love the beach,” she said with a smile.

“Great!” Courtney leaned back proudly.

“So, uh…what about nighttime fun?” Bianca’s eyes flickered unconsciously to Courtney’s glossy lips, the way her tongue toyed with the straw, before quickly adding, “Any good clubs?”

“We’re underage,” Courtney said sweetly.

“Oh, right.” Bianca turned to Willam. “Come on. I know you’ve got a fake ID. Where do you go?”

A secretive, almost mischievous smile spread across Willam’s lips as her eyes narrowed in on Bianca consideringly. There was a confident, daring tone in her voice as she responded with a simple, “Depends.”

Arching her brow, egging her on, Bianca shot back, “On?”

Willam’s smile grew just a little wider as answered, “On what your type of scene is.”

Fully catching onto the joke that had gone over Courtney’s head, Bianca sat back in her seat, arms crossed with an amused grin of her own and asked, “What do you think it is?”

There was a loaded pause as the two stared one another down. Courtney’s eyes darted back and forth in confusion, looking absolutely lost.

Finally, after what felt like a decade of waiting, Willam broke the silence of the group and replied almost smugly, “I think you'll be right at home in Sierra's.”

“Willam!” Courtney scolded harshly as she gave her friend a firm smack to the arm. Turning a bright shade of pink, she turned to Bianca and apologized, lowing her voice, “I'm sorry, that...that's a gay bar.”

The way her voice had dipped into such a low whisper had Bianca laughing on the spot. As soon as she managed to get ahold of herself, she inquired with amusement, “So? What’s wrong with gay bars?”

Stunned, Courtney blinked several times before finding her voice again. “Nothing! That’s not what I-it’s not that there’s anything wrong, she just shouldn’t assume...I mean, if you’re okay with it, then-”

“Well, it’s probably gonna be my best bet at getting laid,” came the nonchalant answer.

Looking rather pleased with herself, Willam piped back up for affirmation, “So you are...?”

Nodding her head, Bianca confirmed, “Mh-mm...And what about you? Casual observer or part of the family?”

“I mean...if that's what I'm in the mood for, yeah.”

“Makes sense,” Bianca quipped as her brow arched, “You do seem like the ‘take it anywhere you can get it’ type.”

The comment earned a loud laugh, one distinct enough to draw the attention of nearly everyone else in the shop. Despite the onlookers, Willam reassured her with a playful grin, “Trust me bitch, it’s not that hard to get it around here...”

“Sounds promising,” Bianca replied before turning back to Courtney, “You alright, dollface? You’ve been awfully quiet over here.”

Stumbling to collect herself, Courtney found herself mumbling, “Oh...um, no. I mean, yeah, I'm not-I mean-”

“Court is straight,” Willam said, saving her from stammering any longer.

“You don’t say,” Bianca said, trying to sound like she’d known all along. Secretly though, she was a bit surprised. She could have sworn that the blonde had been giving her vibes all day. Well...too bad. Karmic justice, indeed. With a sly sideways glance at her, Bianca clucked, “Pity.”

Snorting through her laughter, Willam shook her head and said, “Yeah, you wish, bitch. But that pussy’s a boys club.”

“Bill!” Courtney wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Bianca shook her head sadly, asking, “So...you’ve never even been eaten out by someone who actually knows what the hell they're doing down there?”

“Hey! Men can learn!” Courtney exclaimed defensively, then a tiny conspiratorial grin crept onto her face and she admitted, “I mean...hypothetically.”

Bianca burst into cackling laughter.

“Oh, you poor baby,” she cooed, still giggling, slipping an arm around Courtney’s shoulders. Courtney turned to her with a look of good-natured self-pity, lower lip puffed out, batting her lashes slowly for comedic effect.

The more Bianca thought about it, the more she realized that there was something a bit freeing about Courtney being straight. She was straight. There were lines that would never be crossed, ever. So it meant she was safe to flirt and have fun and it would never make her living situation complicated.

Win win, right?

Bianca looked into Courtney’s sparkling green eyes one last time before removing the arm from her shoulder, chuckles dying down.

***

Bianca suggested a stop at the grocery store on the way home, which Courtney realized was a great idea, since she had barely anything stocked, having chosen to eat most of her meals for the past few days in the cafeteria by their building.

Plus, she didn’t mind at all that they were extending their outing, finding Bianca to be both hilarious and fascinating. While Willam was occupied on her phone, Courtney hopped into the cart, beaming up at Bianca.

“Uh, I’m sorry, are your legs broken?” Bianca asked pointedly.

“Come on, please?! I wanna riiiiide,” she wheedled, and Bianca smirked at her.

“Oh, I can give you a ride.”

Courtney bit her lip, both hating and loving the way her stomach twisted every time she looked into Bianca’s brown eyes. It was thrilling, but also terrifying, like being on a rollercoaster--and Courtney loved rollercoasters. She was still a bit miffed at Willam for so adamantly proclaiming her straightness earlier, though she couldn’t really say why. It was true, of course, she was straight, but the way Willam said it so definitively was annoying, especially since she’d only just found out that Bianca was gay moments before.

All Courtney did know, for sure, was that she was having fun, so she decided just to enjoy herself and not stress about it.

They sped through the store, picking up pantry staples and some produce for the next couple of days, along with a few treats that Courtney insisted on...coconut water, dates, kale chips. Bianca pretended to be disgusted by all of it.

At one point, in the freezer aisle, Courtney found herself gazing up at Bianca, admiring again how thick and shiny her hair was. When Bianca leaned over the cart to toss in a package of frozen peas, Courtney reached up, fingering a lock gently.

“Is that your real hair color?” she asked.

“No,” Bianca said, “Not even close. Why, is that your real hair color?” She reached out, unceremoniously ruffling Courtney’s hair.

Courtney ducked and giggled, saying, “Almost! It’s...slightly enhanced.”

A wicked look passed across Bianca’s face as she said, “You know, there’s a way to check that.”

“Eyebrows?” Courtney asked, lashes fluttering innocently.

Bianca cackled gleefully, dark eyes dancing with joy, and said, “Yeah, eyebrows. That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

Courtney bit her lip, feeling a surge of pride at making someone as funny as Bianca laugh so hard.

They were almost to the check-out when an employee asked tiredly for her to please get out of the cart.

“Oh yeah, sorry!” she said, scrambling to get up.

“Need a hand?” Bianca asked.

“Thanks.” Courtney let Bianca help her out, one hand holding the cart steady and the other on her waist. A faint blush colored her cheeks as she jumped down and found herself chest to chest with Bianca, close enough to smell her perfume, which was lovely--warm and smoky. It made Courtney want to lean in closer...

“Let’s go!” Willam screeched, slamming the cart into their legs.

“Soz Bill!” Courtney snapped out of her daze and headed for the registers, making sure to snatch a few bars of dark chocolate on the way, chuckling slightly at Willam’s mumbled “that’s so Aussie.”

It was still early when they got back to the apartment, and Courtney was too riled up to sleep, so she suggested opening a bottle of the wine that Bianca bought. Alaska was dozing, so they left her in peace while the three of them sat around Courtney and Willam’s room and chatted for a few more hours. They shared stories about their childhoods and families, generally getting to know each other--at least until Bianca’s eyelids began to look heavy and they sent her off to bed.

As Courtney finally snuggled down into her comforter, lightly buzzed and perfectly content, her last thought was how lucky she was, how wonderful her roommates were, how life-changingly amazing this year promised to be.

#rpdr fanfiction #bitney #willaska #bianca del rio #courtney act #willam belli #alaska thunderfuck #college au #lesbian au #slow burn #kind of #friends to lovers #fluff #off limits #just friends #veronica #albatross

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swan--writes · 4 years

Note

Lmao I’d quite like to see a beej being drunk for the first time fic 😅

This is 100% not what you asked for. It’s not even taking creative liberties, it’s just doing it wrong and I’m sorry. But if anyone else wants to write drunk Beetlejuice, please do so and tag me!

Warnings: abuse mentions, alcohol mentions

Words: 1,560

You had never been a lightweight. Even when you first started drinking, you had always been able to hold your liquor. When you moved into your first place, you had been ecstatic at the opportunity to have an actual liquor cabinet – one that you could access, unlike your parents who hoarded theirs for ‘special occasions’ which never came. Even after a few years went by and some of the novelty wore off, you never lost your tolerance. Or your bartending job. Three years in, and your boss still loved you.

When Beetlejuice took to haunting your place, it occurred to you almost immediately that he would be loads of fun when drunk. The demon spent afternoons bouncing off the walls in your place, experiment with different screams, and magically reupholstering your living room furniture in black and white stripes before arranging it on the ceiling. Of course, he admitted to clearing the living room floor as a courtesy to the rats he would have running races across the space. Then there were the stunts he would pull on anyone who came to your door when you weren’t around to answer it.

You could only imagine what kind of dastardly hijinks Beetlejuice would get up to if under the influence. You really, really wanted to find out.

Beetlejuice had been around for a while before it finally came up. You were sitting on the couch on your night off, drinking a Not Your Father’s and watching a movie in your sweats when you heard a door open down the hall to your left. It was a creaky door, and it opened slowly. The sharp noise it made when it shut echoed throughout your place.

He called to you before he came into the living room. “Guess who’s back, babes!” You opened your mouth to reply, but then you heard rattling. When you looked down, you saw that the arm of your couch had been replaced by a snake’s head, hissing at you.

Before you could stop yourself, you let out a short shriek. You shot up and scrambled away from the couch, slamming your drink onto the coffee table as you went.

Beetlejuice laughed as he came into the room, walking right up to you. “Sorry, sweet cheeks, couldn’t resist.”

You smacked his arm but laughed in spite of yourself. “I think you probably could’ve, but welcome back, jerkface.”

“Nah, couldn’t do it.”

“Yeah you could.”

“M-mm.” He shook his head. You rolled your eyes and returned to your, now snake-free, couch. Without waiting for an invitation, Beetlejuice joined you, flopping down beside you and throwing his arm over the back of the couch and around your shoulders. “What are we watchin’?”

“Godzilla.”

“The original?”

“Obviously.”

“Popcorn?” You reached to pick up the bowl beside your feet and set it between your left leg and his right. He groaned appreciatively. “Babes, you spoil me.” Beetlejuice popped a few kernels into his mouth. Briefly, you wondered if he could actually taste them, even with the truckload of salt you had coated them with. You didn’t question him though.

“You got it.” Reaching out again, you picked up your beer. “Want one?” You gestured with your drink to make sure he knew what you meant. He side-eyed the dark bottle and shook his head.

“I’m good.”

“You sure? I bought two packs, it’s not like we’ll run out. And I kinda wanna see what you’re like when you’re drunk.”

He laughed. “What, I’m not crazy enough for you? I don’t think you could handle me, babes.”

“Is that a challenge?” you asked.

“No, it’s a promise. I don’t drink anymore.” He still wasn’t looking at you, but you were watching him now.

“Wait, you stopped?”

“About two centuries ago. Or maybe…” He trailed off, glancing upward in thought. “…when was the Spanish Inquisition founded?”

You elbowed him gently. “Whatever. I think you’d be fun.” You brought your beer to your lips, but stopped before you could take a sip, frowning. With your gaze still half on Beetlejuice, you couldn’t miss the way he wrinkled his nose in what almost looked like disdain. “What?”

“Nothin’.”

“No, what is it?”

“It’s nothing, Y/N.”

Was he starting to lose his patience? Odd, you’d never known him to be short with you. “Okay, something just happened, Beej.” You paused the movie. Ignoring his protests, you set your beer on the coffee table and the popcorn on the floor. Then you shifted your leg under you and turned to face him. When you propped your elbow on the back of the couch, the demon had no choice but to drop his arm, and he turned his head to look at you, irritation on his furrowed brow. Undeterred, you nudged him with the back of your hand. “C’mon, what’s up? Talk to me.”

“Why?” he whined, eyes travelling all over your face.

You tried not to frown – to remain open and softened at your features. “Because I need to know if I’ve upset you, so I can try and fix it.”

“I’m not upset.”

“Really?” You watched Beetlejuice realize you weren’t going to give up. He turned away from you, looking at anything that wasn’t your face, and grumbled something unintelligible. Your brow flickered downward. “Sorry?”

“My mom drank.”

When he spoke, his voice was quiet and flat and gruffer than usual. He looked down immediately, as though he was gauging how difficult it would be to become one with the floor, and he slipped down an inch, like he was about to try.

You had never heard Beetlejuice mention his mom. Actually, you had been under the impression that he didn’t have parents. Seeing him more sullen than you ever had, watching his hair slowly fade from the vibrant green it had been when he had first joined you on the couch to a muted purple, you could see why he let you think that. A small part of you felt guilty for pushing him at all.

Finally, you cleared your throat and spoke. “She wasn’t very nice to you, was she?”

Snorting mirthlessly, he shook his head. You sighed through your nose, barely making any noise lest he think you were upset with him. You touched his shoulder briefly, lightly. He flinched almost imperceptibly and it fell like an icepick to your aorta. But you shook it off. He needed you.

“Don’t go anywhere, okay?” You waited for him to nod again before you got up. You took your drink with you into the kitchen and poured the remainder into the sink without thinking twice. After recycling the bottle, you went to the fridge.

Five minutes later, you walked back into the living room with two mugs of instant cocoa. One of them had extra marshmallows and a dash of cayenne pepper. The other one was yours.

“Here,” you said softly, handing Beetlejuice his mug. It was white on the outside, green on the inside. His eyes shone when he looked at it, then up at you, silently asking if you were serious. You gave him a small smile and waited for him to take the mug. Not letting go of your solid green mug, you lowered yourself onto the couch. You paused to pull the large bowl of popcorn back onto the couch between you and Beetlejuice before holding an arm out to him in a silent invitation. Beetlejuice’s movements were halting and unsure at first, but he slowly leaned into your side. His clothes were stiff with dirt and whatever else he had gotten into over the last few days, but your sweatshirt provided enough of a barrier between you that you decided you didn’t mind. You wrapped an arm around his shoulders, securing him to you.

“Okay?” you asked. He made a small noise of approval. “I’m sorry about your mom,” you said. “I want you to feel safe here.”

You felt him shake his head. “Now that’s just corny, babes.” With that, he unpaused the movie.

You couldn’t help the laugh that snuck past your lips. “You’re welcome, jerkface.”

The two of you fell silent then. Godzilla played over the sounds of sipping cocoa – slurping unashamedly, in Beetlejuice’s case – and crunching popcorn. At some point, the chill from his skin began seeping through your clothes and you set the empty bowl on the floor so you could pull a blanket over the both of you. When he finished his cocoa, he wrapped his arms around your waist and snuggled farther into you, trying and failing to be subtle. When you finished your cocoa, you brought your newly free hand to his hair and ran your fingers through it, noting with some satisfaction that it was slowly returning to its usual green. After Godzilla ended, Beetlejuice reached out and flicked at the air a few times, changing the disk to Nosferatu before returning his arm to your waist.

A couple of hours had gone by and it was fully dark outside before either of you spoke again. “Hey, Y/N?”

“Mm?” Your eyes remained on the screen.

“Thanks.”

Glancing down, you saw that Beetlejuice was staring at the TV. Between the dark outside and the shifting light from the screen, you couldn’t tell what color his hair was. His expression was full of contentment though, and his voice was soft and easy. You smiled. “Anytime.”

Buy Me a Coffee?

#somebody give this boy a hug and some therapy #beetlejuice broadway #beetlejuice bway #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice #soft beetlejuice #beetlejuice fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #beetlejuice x self insert #fluff #so much fluff #request

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