#literally whenever i think of a dumb plot summary of the game it literally is just | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yikeswtfmate · 4 years

Text

Golden // Part 2

Summary: Y/N pays Sam a visit. He has some explaining to do.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: language; uh? sexual references? maybe???

A/N: listen. LISTEN. I am so excited about this. I’m so excited about this that I might turn this whole thing into a series. Is this how IAFAG came into being as well? Yes, it is. Am I as excited about this as I was about IAFAG? MAYHAPS! Here is the second part, I hope you like it!

(as always, thanks to @the-chocolate-bunny for cheering me on and shouting OHMYGOD over and over again when she’s reading whatever it is I’m sending her, you’re a clown but I love you)

previous part // masterlist

“Samuel Thomas Wilson!” Y/N shouts and her finger is so far in his pec that he has to swipe her hand away and rub at his chest. Good.

“It’s 7 in the morning.” He groans and just follows her trampling inside his kitchen. He watches with a pout as she’s turning on the coffee machine, taking out two mugs and the sugar jar – I just want to sleep some more, what did I do to deserve this on a Wednesday?

“Well, rise and shine, buttercup, because you have some explaining to do!”

Sam yawns and sits down, practically melting over the kitchen island. She pushes a coffee right next to his nose, where the smell and heat should be enough to keep his eyes open.

“Why am I even friends with you?” Sam mumbles, but Y/N just looks at him unimpressed. “What?”

“You know Steve.” She says and good god, does she look pissed.

“Ok, honey. I’m gonna have to ask you to be a little more specific. I own a bar, I know too many Steves to count and most of them aren’t even worth you coming over here at 7 in the morning.”

Y/N looks pointedly at Sam as if by magic he could read her thoughts – which wouldn’t be surprising in normal circumstances, the man is scarily accurate, especially when she’s trying to hide her flings away from him. In his defence, she did knock at his door for 10 minutes to wake him up and then nearly tackled him to the ground, even though she has a goddamned key. But then again, he might have an inkling on who exactly she’s talking about, considering he never does anything without knowing exactly what the results might be.

“Tall, blonde hair, blue eyes, beard, built like a fucking tank, unable to buy shirts his own size, owns a stupid bike?!” Y/N is aware that her voice is turning into a brassy squeal by the end of her sentence, but at least now Sam is starting to look more alive. He’s raising one of his eyebrows, which could only mean there’s some sense of recognition at her words.

“Don’t tell me the idiot finally talked to you.” He’s chuckling in his coffee mug, as if this would explain what just happened an hour ago.

“Sam.” She presses, staring pointedly at him. “More words, less sphinx-like riddles, please.”

He rolls his eyes, but puts his mug down with a sigh. He knew this would happen, hoped this would happen if that idiot Golden Retriever would just get his shit together already but he didn’t expect Steve to be a little asshole. Bucky, sure, but Steve? Yeah, ok, fine, Steve can be an asshole too.

“Remember when you asked me to help you move a while back?”

“And you convinced me to go for a run at 5 in the fucking morning with you in exchange for that? And you stood me up because apparently you slept through your alarms? That somehow involved Clint for some goddamn reason, but if I think about it now, I have no idea how that happened considering you don’t live with Clint.” She’s literally voicing her thought process, which in turn makes Sam proud – she’ll put two and two together soon enough. “Unless you both slept at the bar that night and somehow…wait. No. Sam, you dick, you planned this?!” There it is.

Sam leans over the table and pats Y/N on the head – one, two, three and she’s batting his hand away. She’s fuming, but it’s great seeing her get so worked up. Ah yes, Sam thinks, there’s nothing funnier than meddling in Y/N’s life. To be fair, it’s not like she’s regretted any of his plotting – she’d actually let him take all her decisions for her if there wouldn’t be something called rEsPoNsiBiLitY and other disgusting adult stuff. But couldn’t he have meddled with this Steve earlier? Couldn’t he have told her there’s a hunk of man that she’d like to climb like a tree the day they met?

“Explain yourself before I either self-combust in rage or tell Clint you’re allowing him to eat all the peanuts in the bar.”

“He knows better than to obey orders that don’t come directly from me, sweets, but at least you tried.” Sam chuckles, which earns him another whine. “Fine! Goddamn, woman, sometimes I wonder what I did in a past life to deserve this. I was with Steve when you called me and your weird face came up on my phone. He kept hinting at wanting to meet you but I played dumb and wouldn’t give him anything.”

“I – what?!” Y/N screeches yet again, and Sam swears he might just buy some noise blocking headphones.

“It was his birthday present.” He shrugs.

“What was?”

“Making you two meet, you dumb clown.”

Y/N looks at Sam, a mystified frown on her face. He can practically see “Processing” right on her forehead. It’s the most fun he’s had in months and if he ever had any doubts about his mischievous plans, he now knows with certainty that it was all worth it. He takes a sip of his coffee, patiently waiting for her to talk, because she’s a talker, after all, she’ll either let out a final screech that will wake up the whole building or he’ll suffer through an endless tirade of ingenious expletives.

“Wait, hold up.” She finally says, one hand raised, as if he’d ruin her reaction by talking. Come on, Y/N, baby, you know me better than this, and she does. “Let me get this straight. You knew Steve was already interested, you knew that we kept meeting in the park every morning and knew I was also interested, yet you’ve kept quiet until now?”

“That’s exactly right, babygirl.” Sam grins.

She smacks him then – lunging over the kitchen island, right over his head, making him nearly dunk his face in his coffee. Sam tries his best to show that he’s furious at her reaction, but it’s an unfortunately common occurrence, so that wouldn’t stick.

“Why would you hurt me in this way, Samuel?” Y/N wails, throwing herself on the table – dramatics, this is why only Steve could handle you. “Have I not been a good friend to you? Have I not kept your secret that you wore braces when you were a kid? Have I not brought you coffee whenever you asked for it in college? Have I not introduced you to Bucky?”

“First of all, I did it because Steve had to be taught a lesson. And second of all, it was payback because you did tell someone I’ve worn braces in middle school. And that was Bucky!”

Y/N scoffs and crosses her arms. They’re stuck in a match of pouts and throwing around blame – a game they’ve played since childhood, but Y/N is bad at it, as always, and she’s the first to relent, as always.

“What lesson?” She mumbles.

“What?”

“What lesson did you have to teach Golden Boy?” Y/N repeats herself, enunciating each word.

“To learn to ask for what he wants.” Sam grins.

“And what’s that?”

“You.” Sam rolls his eyes, already tired of this conversation, why can’t his friends just sort this out together anyway? “He wants you, Y/N, but he was too much of a coward to ask.”

That’s the moment Sam’s phone starts pinging with what sounds like an entire waterfall of messages. He groans, standing up from his chair, because really what the fuck is up with people today and waking him up at 7 in the morning on a goddamn Wednesday?

At least Y/N stays put in her own seat, watching him like a hawk as he retrieves his phone from his bedroom. It’s lighting up like crazy and as he reads the messages, he can’t help but start laughing like a certified villain.

“Your boy is having a meltdown.” He finally supplies an explanation to Y/N’s confusion.

Before she can even open her mouth in a futile attempt to deny having “a boy” or even ask who he might be talking about, because let’s be honest, it’s not like she’s been wondering what it’d be like to tap that ass in the few minutes it took Sam to come back, he thrusts his phone right in her face.

Oh god, Sam, I talked to her today

Holy shit she’s even prettier from up close

Fuck, I think she caught me staring at her butt

What if she thinks I’m a creep?

AND I ASKED HER OUT??!?!?!?!

HOW COULD I EVER THINK SHE’D SAY YES????

BUT SHE SAID YES????

WHY DID SHE SAY YES??????????

SAM WHAT THE FUCK SHE SAID YES AND I HAVE A DATE WITH THE HOTTEST GIRL I’VE EVER MET AND NOW I HAVE TO CALL HER AND I’M EXCITED BUT HOLY SHIT WTF AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY TO HER????????

I’VE ACTED LIKE SUCH A DOUCHE!!!!!!!!!!!

I TOLD HER I’LL PICK HER UP ON MY BIKE AND SHE SOUNDED SO CONFUSED WHAT IF SHE DOESN’T LIKE BIKERS???????????

SAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I think I’m in love

By the end of the last message, a huge grin is splitting Y/N’s face. Sam knows this reaction too well for comfort and oh shit, what have I started, but it’s too late now and she’s already typing.

“Really, Y/N? On my phone? I might just have to throw it in a river now.” Sam sighs as he reads over her shoulder.

She lifts a shoulder in a shrug, but the grin doesn’t leave her face. Waking up at 5 in the morning might not be so horrible in the end if she gets to send messages like this to a Golden Boy who is having the most adorable meltdown over her.

I might be impartial to bikes, but I’m definitely not impartial to you or your butt, Stevie

***

Everything Marvel Taglist:

@bonkywobble

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic

68 notes · View notes

whenyourfeetdonttouchtheground · 6 years

Text

Thoughts on Moulin Rouge

I figured I would share some summary and opinions on Moulin Rouge, since it seems like people are interested in knowing details. I’ll try to keep my comments from being derivative of other people’s summaries…since I know there are a few out there circulating people’s dashes. Also, SPOILERS, so don’t read if you don’t want to know stuff about the plot!

1). The start of this show!!!! It’s incredible!! I’m not familiar with any other shows that start the way this show started (aside from, like, a regional production of Newsies that I saw). When you think Broadway, you think of a big, dramatic overture as the curtain rises and the house lights dim to signal the start of the show. Or, if not a grand, sweeping overture, there’s at least a clear distinct line signaling the show starting.

When you walk into the theatre to see Moulin Rouge, you are walking into THE Moulin Rouge. There is a curtain serving as a backdrop, with chairs and tables placed downstage. So far, nothing is too different—lots of shows set the mood with a few set pieces stuck strategically on stage. The air in the theatre is filled with the hum and excited chatter of the audience, most of whom are struck in awe by the set (pretty sure this point has already been covered extensively by other people, so I’ll restrain myself from rambling on about it!). Pretty soon a tuxedoed gentleman wanders on stage, and he kind of goes unnoticed by most of the audience. He quietly paces around the stage a moment, before claiming a spot at one of the tables. He sits, but it’s clear he’s waiting for something. Soon enough, a woman employed at the Moulin Rouge arrives to see if she strikes his fancy. She plays coy and suggestive, leaning in to kiss him on the neck.

All of this occurs while the audience is still chatting. There’s no dialogue spoken by the couple on stage. Soon, more gentlemen and more ladies begin to trickle into the Moulin Rouge. They make their ways around the stage and the front aisles of the theatre.

The only other time I’ve seen this attempted, the audience shut up so quickly the moment the first actor appeared on stage. But this show was unique; for Moulin Rouge, the appearance of the actors was so subtle that it actually managed to create the mood of the bordello; they slowly and gradually drew in your attention to the start of the show. As people kept wandering in, two Moulin Rouge ladies made their way to the center of the stage apron. They raised their arms and… LITERALLY SWALLOWED SWORDS! By now, most of the audience was quiet, but it still didn’t quite feel like the actual start of the show. People kept wandering on and it took everyone in the theatre a second to realize that Aaron Tveit had also wandered on as Christian. Of course, the illusion of the bordello is kind of shattered when the audience realize he’s there since the whole theatre erupts into applause….but it’s great while it lasts!

2). So Christian makes his way on stage, but there’s still no music, and no real feel of watching a Broadway show….which segues nicely to my next observation from the show–the beautifully executed synchronized moments. There are so many moments in this show that rely on actors making gestures with lighting and/or sound effects to accompany those gestures. Again, this is not a new gimmick in the world of theatre, but, whenever I’ve seen this done before, there’s always a split second too long between the gesture and effect and it wrecks the illusion of simultaneity. Not here. The synchronization was SPOT ON. So Christian wanders into the bordello, distraught and depressed. It’s quiet in the theatre—the audience has fallen silent and all the patrons of the bordello are focused on Christian. With a pained expression, he turns to look towards the interior of the bordello. With a heavy heart he opens his palms up skywards, and gives them a slight drop. Cue the curtain rising and Lady Marmalade. Chills. The juxtaposition of Christian’s pain and sadness with the first few grand beats of Lady Marmalade made the hairs on my arms stand on end.

3). There’s confetti everywhere for Lady Marmalade and it’s great fun. Harold Zidler definitely needed that confetti canon cane.

4). Holy hot damn. Tam Mutu rocks every single one of his costumes. I mean, all of the costumes are phenomenal, but the detailed black brocade for the duke’s coats is just….wow…… and it looks astounding on stage. Also, I never thought a super macho man could rock a pale lavender, floor length coat, but Tam Mutu sure does.

5). They changed the character of the duke. Gone is the simpering, weasely man of the movie. Tam Mutu plays the role with arrogance and aggression that makes you actually believe the duke is capable of the jealousy and violence they talk about in the movie. He was super imposing and intimidating….right up until I noticed him grinning from ear to ear while folded over for bows.

6). Aaron Tveit plays Christian so well. But, it’s not like that really needed saying. I’ve loved the movie forever, but I never quite bought Ewan McGregor as a young, naïve poet who’d never been in love. Don’t get me wrong, I love him to death as Christian. But he always struck me as too mature for the role. Aaron Tveit brings all the boyish innocence that Christian is supposed to embody. Also, Aaron develops the character so nicely as Christian descends into depression throughout the course of the story. Seriously. Aaron Tveit sobbing on stage for El Tango de Roxanne is more than my little heart can take.

7). One of the sweetest bits of new dialogue is when Christian is nervous about meeting Satine and tells Toulouse “I can’t meet her, she’s out of my league” and Toulouse tells him that genius has no league and shoves him towards Satine.

8). The shows finds a weird little niche between heartbreaking tragedy and comedy. They use their pop score to interject lots of humor by playing random bits of well known standards (I mean, you can’t get any funnier than a show literally rickrolling you) and for me it almost became a game to try to see if I could guess what song the music vamp was leading into, before they started singing it. I’m curious to see if the show will lose some of its humor once there’s a cast recording and people are more familiar with the music of the show.

9). Satine no longer sings “One Day I’ll Fly Away”……but damn…..Karen Olivo sure owns “Firework” now.

10). THE. ELEPHANT. LOVE. MEDLEY. It’s different than the movie, and encompasses more songs, including some lesser known indie songs (hooray!). At first I was a little unsure about this new rendition, just because I love the original so so so much. Also, I was a little unsure since they added Come What May into the mix of songs….but more on that topic later. I ended up LOVING this arrangement. Particularly because the staging was MAGICAL….it literally mimicked the scene for “Your Song” in the movie…..Eiffel tower, pink umbrella, stars, and all!!

11). Come What May lost some of its poignancy. In the movie, the song is this number that Christian writes for Satine’s character to sing anytime she is missing her lover. It’s a façade Christian creates so that Satine can think of him whenever she’s upset about her relationship with the duke. For the stage, Come What May is simply one of the love songs that Christian and Satine sing, and it’s also reprised as a finale. It’s still gorgeous, and impactful, but the plot thread about Christian writing it to be part of his story is gone.

12). Okay. I tried to hold off for as long as I could, but I have to mention it: THE SETS ARE AMAZING!!!

13). The Absinthe scene with the green fairy was handled so well. For as much as I love the movie, Kylie Minogue appearing as the green fairy early on in the movie always struck me as a completely random scene, aimlessly interrupting the plot for a few moments. For the stage, they introduced it much later in the show, and turned it into Christian struggling with Satine rejecting him and when Toulouse and Santiago suggest he try Absinthe, he does hallucinate the green fairy, but it’s his vision of Satine as the green fairy that he can’t get ahold of.

14). They changed Mimi’s character!!!! She’s a minor character, but she’s such a villain in the movie. She’s jealous of Satine’s success at the Moulin Rouge, and in the movie she sees this as an excuse to reveal Christian and Satine’s affair to the duke. But in the stage adaptation she actually warns Satine that the duke is dangerous and she needs to be careful. It was such a minor character to change, but I was so happy that they made the change.

Okay. I could go on and on about every little detail relating to this show….but my overall gut impression of this show is that it’s truly SPECTACULAR! The actors put so much heart and energy into this show that it was nothing short of magical; I think there was a dumb grin plastered to my face the entire time I was in the theatre, even as there were tears pouring down my face at the sad parts and my hands hurt from clapping by the end of the evening…it was just that good.

#sorry #this basically turned into an essay #i just have a lot of feelings about this show #moulin rouge the musical #moulin rouge #aaron tveit #karen olivo #danny burstein #tam mutu #sahr ngaujah #ricky rojas

153 notes · View notes

tumblunni · 5 years

Text

OH FUCK I THINK I FINALLY CRACKED THE CODE OF WHY I ALWAYS LIKE THE VILLAINS BETTER

Like man it always makes me so confused cos i mean im a soft AF person and i always end up having sympathetic redemption headcanons for them so its not like i like VILLAINY ITSELF but what else do all these characters have in common?

Thats it. Thats it, ursula helped me crack it.

I just WANT THOSE TRAITS ON THE HEROES

I really want a nice confident sassy funny chubby trans auntie who promotes body positivity to our young hero and always gets to say the coolest lines and get the best moments and BE LOVED FOR WHO SHE IS

And like usually whenever you get anywhere close to seeing those "villain traits" on a hero they like.. Remove all the good parts. If you have a supportive hero aunt she's always boring and generically supportive instead, and has to look like the most stereotypical boring mess ans have a super small plot role and uuuugh thats IF SHES EVEN THERE i mean seriously aunties and grandmas are weirdly less represented as mentors than grandpas who are already REALLY HARD TO FIND and again OFTEN GENERIC AND UNFUN WHENEVER THEY GET TO APPEAR

And how damn often are we allowed to have a chubby gay aunt!! WHERE IS MY CHUBBY GAY AUNT!! ive met SO MANY chubby gay aunts in real life like 90% of all my psychologists have been either that or like.. The exact same but a straight lgbt ally instead. Sassy plus size aunties are THE BACKBONE OF OUR SOCIETY DAMMIT! I've had so much help thanks to sassy gay aunts!! And like even just looking at any damn crowd scene in a normal city centre youre gonna see so many chubby aunts and long nosed uncles and all those sorts of bullshit "ugly people" that mass media pretends are ugly and relegates to One Minor Role In The Entire Cast despite them being infinately more common than supermodels and NOT UGLY AT ALL GEEZ IT PISSES ME OFF SO MUCH

I cant believe im a fuckin disney villain fan cos of body positivity

Tfw u suck so bad at making hateable people that the fandom universally hugs all your villains and ignores your boring protagonists like fuckin TAKE THAT DIDNEY

God i wanna hug hades sooo bad he just needs a friend aaaaaa

And i mean its not just disney, every damn time ive obsessed over a villain its been because they have some trait thats supposed to be "bad" but its actually good and we dont get to see it on the heroes

Like my thing with science villains in particular is that when i first played ff7 i really liked the idea of an evil minion who's a bad sidekick not just because he's "dumb" or "bumbling" but because he's actually not interested in any of the evil stuff and he works against his own boss and is like.. Friendly to the heroes, i have no particular grudge against you and i wont stop you if im off duty and all. I liked the Turks for the same reason but in the origibal ff7 translation they were kind of stoic and serious and i didnt really become as much of a fan of them til i saw them being more goofy and comic relief in some optional sidequests and then their movie adaptation. But hojo was always being all "lol my boss's plan is so stupid amirite" and had that very memorable scene where he's just sunbathing and tells you everything you need to know to get to the next thing to ruin his boss's plan cos i mean fuck it who even cares im just here to soak up some sun while fully dressed in a turtleneck and labcoat. It sucked so much that he was such a reprehensible bastard with creepy sexual assault vibes and murder and child abuse and experimenting on people and basically just NOT A LOVEABLE VILLAIN but his CONCEPT held so much potential to be filled by a sympathetic character instead...

So yeah then cos of him i kept being obsessed with finding SOME CHARACTER SOMEWHERE that actually lived up tp that potential, and thats why i was instantly interested in charon from pokemon and totally on edge waiting for the slightest chance for him to become That Perfect Sass Gramps Of Legend. And then he was indeed sassy!! And had so little screenyime that there was potential for interpretation of him as potentially redeemable cos i mean the game never said he wasnt, the game barely said anything about him at all, lol. And he was so old and small and frail looking and i just wanted to protect him!! And then that one wifi event that actually hinted at synpatheticness!! Aaaa its a recipe for a Forever Fave~

And i guess maybe it all started with my grandma being awesome and me really missing her? Cos i had shitty abusive parents and she was my ONLY good family member who showed me what love was like. And she was also basically a supervillain. Like every damn supervillain trait except being evil! She was bombastic and confident and sassy and mischievious and loud and passionate about stuff and always had something funny to say and never gave up no matter how many times she failed. And she also used all that great power for the forces of good!

So yeh thats why i love sassy good guys and i hate that often even when a sassy villain gets redeemed they seem to lose all their edge and become more generic now theyre a good guy. Or they get totally sidelined with no screentime anymore, or they ONLY get to be comic relief and dont get the full and complex redemption they deserve. Or just a lot of bads!! Its never the simplest answer of just fuckin.. Keep the character the character. Thats kinda why i didnt feel too much for the maleficent movie even though the concept itself sounded like everything i ever wanted. The character in that movie is a very different person to origibal maleficent, she's more just a stoic tsundere mumsy figure than a hammy badass iconicness. Still a nice villain redemption but it felt like it would have been better as an original story instead of an attempted maleficent. Also i wish they handled it better with the whole "true love's kiss could be from your mum instead" thing cos i get sooooo grossed out whenever i see people shipping movie maleficent and aurora! Like yes sleeping beauty with lesbians would be great but not when one of them is old enough to be her mum and raised her like a mum and changed her goddamn diapers! Also why did they have to ruin the three good fairies just to make maleficent have the mum opportunity? Like just remove them from the story if you wanted maleficent to raise the kid instead. No need to rewrite them into incompetant assholes when they were everyone's fave part of the original! Dont sacrifice the rare and elusive Good Sassy Gay Aunts!! THEYRE LIKE THE ONLY ONES IN DIDNEY!!! (Incodentally merlin is the equivelant of this to hades as the fairies are to ursula)

Also also villains tend to have ACTUAL FLAWS in stories that have a more boring bland protagonist. I wanna see the story behind charon's neuroses and how he struggles with overcoming his temptation to be bad because of greed but ultimately manages to conquer his own negative side because power of friendship and such. Thats a great character arc that provides so much more than he does as a villain where they just wasted him entirely :(

SO BASICALLY IN SUMMARY

* villains are often more complex and well developed characters with flaws while the same wroter might make shitty heroes due to the illogical fear that nobody would root for them if they werent 100% perfect and successful at everything ever

* villains are also often made as negative stereotypes of minorities and other rarely seen traits, which means its easy to reach out to them and reclaim them as a more positive version when theres literally no other options for you to cling to

* the quite common accidental sympathy factor where a villain will seem to be hated more than they deserve for their actions, ir unjustly punished so much that they feel like an underdog, since the writer assumes you'll think theyre "more evil" for being a stereotype and if you dont agree that this thing is bad then it seems like they have way less sins than the story claims they do

* also sass. Sass is good.

But basically the whole root of it is that its stupid and cruel and doesnt goddamn work when you make villains bigoted stereotypes. It just makes me love them! The only person i hate when i see a stereotypical villain is the writer who thought that was a good idea, lol. Just imagine that meme of the samurai holding the cat but its me holding all disney villains!

Also even if a villain isnt outright intentionally meant to be "this minority is bad", it can still make me symoathetic to them if theyre still something thats rare amoung the hero side in the same series. Like charon being the "most unredeemable" villain despite being the most harmless and funny and his plan being so much less world destroying than cyrus, and also he's the only grandpa villain in like.. The whole of all. And he's drawn very much in that way thays supposed to be "ugly" i.e normal grandpa, vs that weird sort of younger than he looks grandpa that hero ones tend to be because blablabla beauty ewuals goodness anti body positivity whatever. Tho actually sinnoh was good with that, they had the best grandpa professor in my opinion cos he got to be sassy too! Rowan always reminds me of auron from ff10. Sinnoh was a good game where i liked a lot of both the heroes and villains even if i still had more villain faves cos i mean pokemon is always biased towards that for me since every game has a voiceless perosnalityless main character and often theyre the one doing most of the heroing with the supporting hero characters having surprisingly little proper screen time. Thats a big part of why i loved hau gladion and lillie in sun and moon! They felt more like a real friend group than any other ones before.

ANYWAY now im just going offtopic into more "i love lots of stuff about every pokemon game" so ill stop typing now

But just basically VILLAINS ARE GOOD COS THEYRE GOOD CHARACTERS and if those stories gavethe same character a good guy role then id still love them just as much, if not more. I dont specifically like villainy, its just that my definition of a good character is often considered a bad character by lazy writers, apparantly?

Also WHERE IS MY SUPPORTIVE GOOD GRAMPS CHARON GAME AND GAY AUNTIE URSULA GIVES YOU FASHION TIPS SMARTPHONE MMO

5 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 7 years

Text

Something Borrowed 3/? (Witney) - Miss Bianca & jazz

Summary: This was going to be Courtney’s first visit to her childhood home in five years, and she’d made a lot of plans. Obviously, none of them had included falling into a whirlwind, summer love affair with her father’s 28-year-old fiancée, three months before the planned wedding. But sometimes, things just happened.

Miss Bianca’s A/N: We did it again, folks! Another week, another chapter - this time with more plot. For those of you who don’t know and are interested, jazz and I have tags on both of our blogs for things that remind us of this fic, here and here. Also, @alaskasthrone made an absolutely fantastic Spotify playlist for this fic, which jazz and I love, so definitely check that out for a soundtrack. As always, tell us what you think - here, on ao3, or through either of our blogs.

jazz’s A/N: More sexual tension! More denial!! More drama!!! Also, thank you x a million to everyone who’s been invested in this fic, it means the world to us <3 Here’s Chapter 1 & Chapter 2 if you missed them!

“Courtney!” Willam’s voice filtered up the stairs, and Courtney groaned, rolling onto her side.

“Courtney, c’mere!”

Sighing, Courtney kicked off her comforter, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment longer as she adjusted to the soft light filtering into her bedroom. She begrudgingly slid out of bed, running a hand through her messy hair and shuffling over to the doorway.

“What?” she yelled back.

“Just come down!”

Courtney leaned against the wall, debating. She could stay in her room and ignore Willam, which was very tempting. But the other woman would just keep calling her, and potentially come up and bother her, if she didn’t go down. As Courtney had learned, avoiding Willam was impossible.

She grabbed her phone, heading down to find Willam lying on her back on the plush rug in the big, open foyer. Her hair was spread out under her, she wasn’t wearing pants, and she looked slightly pouty.

“What is it?” Courtney demanded, stifling a yawn and leaning against the banister. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Oh, hi!” Willam kicked her legs, smiling up at Courtney. “Nothing. Cute pajamas.”

“Willam!”

“I love those little shorts,” Willam added. “Turn around, I wanna see your butt.”

“I was asleep!”

“I was bored,” Willam said with a shrug, patting the floor next to her. “Come sit.”

“No!” Courtney crossed her arms. She wasn’t usually grumpy in the mornings, but Willam was especially skilled at irritating her.

“Ugh, you’re the worst.” Willam rolled her eyes.

She stretched her arms over her head, and the shirt she was wearing rode up her waist. Courtney spotted the hickey she’d left below Willam’s bellybutton, and couldn’t help remembering how Willam’s skin had tasted, crushed between her teeth. She swallowed.

Willam hooked her fingers under the hem of the shirt, tugging it up a few inches higher and shifting her hips so her abs flexed invitingly. Realizing what Willam was doing, Courtney managed to shake herself out of her trance, her gaze drifting up to Willam’s face.

“Sure you don’t wanna sit down, kitten?” Willam’s smile was mischievous now, and as her hand moved over her chest, Courtney recognized the pattern of her shirt.

“Wait a second,” Courtney said. “That’s my shirt.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Why the hell are you wearing my shirt?” Courtney griped, her voice still thick with sleep.

“It’s comfy,” Willam said, as if it was no big deal. “What, you want it back?”

“Yes!”

“Come take it off me, then.”

Willam’s smile had gone from playful to dangerous, and she straightened one of her legs, laying it flat against the floor and dragging her fingernails slowly over her bare thigh. Courtney wanted to replace Willam’s hand with hers, scratch up the smooth tanned skin and snap the waistband of her panties against her hip.

“Oh my god,” Courtney exhaled, looking up at the ceiling. “Stop that, it’s too early for this.”

“Come on, Court,” Willam said, half whining, her pout reappearing. “You know you want to.”

“It’s not gonna happen,” Courtney insisted, rubbing her eyes. “Can I go back to bed?”

“No. Come sit with me.”

“I’m not gonna sit with you,” Courtney said, turning to go back upstairs.

“I’ll tell Dave I’m worried that we’re not connecting,” Willam called, and Courtney stopped. “Get him to send us out on another girls’ shopping trip, or maybe to the spa this time. That would be fun, hmm?”

Sighing, Courtney spun back around. She could handle sitting next to Willam on the floor for awhile if her only alternative was another excursion with her to god knows where.

She dropped down next to Willam, cross legged, stifling another yawn. Almost immediately, Willam’s hand was on her knee, rubbing gently.

“I’m gonna need you to not, Willam.”

“Stop being so uptight,” Willam complained, her hand returning to her stomach.

“Stop seducing me,” Courtney retorted.

“See, I would,” Willam said. “But I have this thing where I cross lines that I probably shouldn’t. It’s like, my brand, or whatever.”

“Oh, my god, do you know how dumb that sounds?”

“Also, nobody eats pussy that enthusiastically without wanting to do it again,” Willam added, ignoring her. “I’m not stupid, Court.”

“We’re not talking about this.”

“Okay, let’s talk about how you’re blushing again.”

“Shut up!”

“No. It’s cute.”

Courtney groaned, her head in her hands. Willam was right, she was blushing, as usual. It was hard not to, when the other woman took every opportunity to fluster and proposition her.

“Look,” she said. “How about we just pretend that it… never happened?”

“I don’t wanna.”

“Why?” Courtney demanded, annoyed.

“Because I didn’t get to eat you out.”

“Willam!” Courtney exclaimed, folding her arms protectively over her stomach, as if somehow, Willam might notice how heat was pooling there. “You have to stop! This is wrong on so many levels. You’re engaged.”

Willam slid off her ring, letting it fall onto the carpet carelessly.

“Not right now,” she said, smirking.

“You’re engaged to my father.”

“So what?”

“You’re impossible,” Courtney muttered, shaking her head. “I’m going back to bed.”

“Can I come?”

“No!” Courtney insisted. She stood up, tugging her shorts down to cover more of her thighs. “I got it out of my system, Willam. It was a one-time thing.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it,” Willam retorted.

“Just let it go,” Courtney said, turning around and starting to walk towards the stairs.

“Wait!” Willam said. “Here’s your shirt.”

Her eyes widening, Courtney looked over her shoulder to see Willam propping herself up on one elbow, now entirely naked aside from her panties. Courtney’s shirt was in her outstretched hand, and she was sporting a satisfied smile.

It took everything in her not to give in again, chuck off her tank top and cover Willam’s body with hers. Images from only days agoflashed through her mind, memories of Willam moaning and tugging her hair and kissing her until she didn’t know which way was up.

But Courtney was responsible. She had self-control.

Snatching the shirt out of Willam’s hand, she strode up the stairs, resisting the urge to look back and get a bird’s eye view of her father’s fiancee spread out nearly naked on the carpet.

“Those shorts really do look great on you,” Willam called after her. “They’d look better on the floor, though.”

Courtney ignored her, rolling her eyes and suppressing a smile.

—–

The more Courtney tried to keep Willam off of her mind, the more difficult it became. Their relationship had been like a game since the beginning, and Willam was still playing to win – which, to her, seemed to mean being able to fuck Courtney whenever she felt like it.

Courtney, for her part, wasn’t entirely sure she was capable of continuing to play.

After another encounter downstairs, this time in her father’s presence, a frazzled Courtney had resorted to taking a cold shower, cliched as it was. Willam had quite literally been breathing down her neck, resulting in her body reacting in all sorts of ways that it shouldn’t have been.

She’d been preparing dessert in advance, or trying to, with Dave sitting at the bar and reading a newspaper. Apparently deciding that the way she was cutting the peaches wasn’t efficient, Willam had come up behind her to demonstrate, her chest pressing to Courtney’s back and hands covering hers.

Courtney shuddered, and turned the water colder.

She could still taste peach juice from the slice Willam had fed her, watching her lips hungrily, before licking off her own fingers.

Dave, meanwhile, had been delighted that the two were finally getting along, completely oblivious to the fact that Courtney was crumbling from the inside out.

Huffing irritably, Courtney turned the water off. Whoever had claimed that cold showers worked was a liar.

She wrapped a fluffy towel around her body, wet hair plastered to her neck, and wondered at what point she’d become someone who resorted to standing under a stream of freezing water in an effort to squelch the not-so-appropriate thoughts she was having about her father’s fiancee.

A few weeks ago, her largest concern was whether or not her luggage would be overweight on her way to Los Angeles. Now, as Courtney moisturized her face, she couldn’t believe such a time ever existed – when she wasn’t envisioning the curve of Willam’s calves in her Louboutins and repeating the pet names the other woman kept calling her over and over in her mind.

Courtney needed to get a grip, and fast.

She flicked on her hair dryer, and stared at herself in the mirror, hoping that if she kept herself firmly fixed in reality, the ghost sensations of Willam’s body pressed against hers might go away.

She had no such luck. It was like her brain was permanently trapped in a feedback loop, replaying whatever encounter had happened most recently until it drove her insane. Courtney could only hope that, with time and space, she’d be able to kick this phase that she was clearly going through.

She set the dryer down, fluffing her hair. Letting the towel slide partially off her body, clutched against her chest with one hand, she opened the bathroom door.

As soon as she stepped back into her room, Courtney was greeted by the sight of Willam in a thin camisole and yoga pants, sitting cross legged on the floor in front of her closet and humming absentmindedly. She nearly dropped her towel.

“What the hell?” she exclaimed, trying and failing to wrap the towel more tightly around herself again. Willam looked up at her.

“Just putting some crap in your closet,” Willam said nonchalantly, picking up a shoe by the ankle strap. “Don’t let me interrupt you.”

“Interrupt me doing what?” Courtney demanded.

“I dunno, getting dressed,” Willam said, shrugging. “Or not. I don’t know what you do in your spare time.”

“Get out of my room!”

Willam rolled her eyes, and leaned back on her hands, giving Courtney a look.

“Alright, well, at least look away,” Courtney said, doing her best to sound scandalized. “I’m naked!”

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, girl.”

“Willam! I told you, we’re not talking about that.” She shifted uncomfortably, goosebumps rising on her skin.

“You look kinda cold,” Willam observed, tilting her head to the side.

Courtney watched helplessly as Willam stood, starting to close the gap in between the two of them slowly.

“Uh, maybe a little,” she managed to say, her eyes wandering to fix momentarily on the sway of Willam’s hips.

She wanted to move backwards, cover herself up, yell and curse at Willam to get out, but the words wouldn’t come. Immobilized, she wet her lips, trying to figure out what she was supposed to be feeling in this moment.

Willam was in her space now, and both the air and her towel felt much too thin. The space between them was heated, and even though Courtney might’ve been a tiny bit cold before, she definitely wasn’t anymore.

The look on Willam’s face was still surprisingly innocent, and Courtney was positive that it was a mask for something else. Willam parted her lips slightly, her hands brushing over Courtney’s arms and making her shiver again. A small smile was forming in the corner of Willam’s mouth, and her gaze traveled down Courtney’s neck to her chest, where she was still clutching the towel desperately.

“Lemme take that,” Willam said, her voice just a breathy murmur. She rested a hand on top of Courtney’s, her fingers cool on Courtney’s heated skin.

“I…” Courtney started, and Willam tugged lightly on the towel.

“I just wanna warm you up, sweetheart,” Willam said, her eyes flicking up to meet Courtney’s.

And there was the seduction, hiding under the innocence – the slight quirk to her lips, the bedroom eyes. The pet name. Courtney’s grip loosened, and the towel slid from her hands.

Willam caught it and cloaked it around Courtney’s shoulders, using her hold on the towel to pull Courtney ever so slightly closer. She was even more exposed than before, but Willam was so close now that it almost didn’t matter, their noses nearly brushing together.

“See?” Willam whispered. “Isn’t that better?”

Her lungs refusing to work, Courtney gave a small nod. Willam tilted her head, her breath ghosting over Courtney’s lips, and Courtney was relatively sure that the only thing keeping her on her feet right now was the hold Willam had on her.

Willam was intoxicating, and she smelled like sex and coconut, and it was impossible to resist her like this.

If it weren’t for Dave’s booming voice calling out for Willam down the hall, Courtney probably would’ve given in.

“Willam! Come and look at this!”

Courtney could feel Willam’s little huff of frustration against her lips, and then the other woman was backing away slightly, one finger playing with one of Courtney’s blonde curls.

“Duty calls, kitten,” she murmured, her tone almost wistful. “You know where to find me.”

With one last playful tug of Courtney’s hair, she spun around, and headed for the doorway. Courtney deflated, her body already missing Willam’s closeness, her electrifying touch.

“Coming, honey!”

The door slammed shut behind Willam, and Courtney collapsed back onto her bed, her head spinning.

Sleep wouldn’t come easy for her tonight, she could already tell. There was heat pooling low in her abdomen, and she was flustered all over again, still slightly weak from the sheer sexual tension that Willam managed to create with every movement.

Not bothering to get dressed, Courtney turned off the overhead lights and flicked on her nightlight. Attempting to tuck herself into bed, she lay there with the blankets pulled up to her chin for mere moments, before kicking them off of her completely. She felt hot and restless and uptight, and it was all Willam’s fault.

Despite her protests, Courtney wanted Willam back in her room desperately. She wanted her pressed close and invading her personal space, wanted her lips against her skin or whispering in her ear, and she despised Willam for making her want it, making her crazy.

She knew that her pride would never let her seek Willam out, but for a moment, she wondered what might happen if she did.

She imagined Willam sneaking back into her room, quiet and alluring, shedding her clothes at the foot of the bed and crawling up Courtney’s body slowly, breath leaving a trail of goosebumps up Courtney’s bare chest.

The thought made Courtney ache, and she couldn’t help running her own hand over her chest, tracing the path with light fingertips. Willam’s mouth would feel so much better, on her stomach, her ribs, her nipples. Palming her own breast, she bit her lip, letting her eyes fall shut.

Willam would keep her quiet, catching Courtney’s soft moans with her tongue pressed against Courtney’s teeth. Or, better yet, she’d tell her to keep quiet like a good girl, demanding it from her in a husky whisper, lips grazing across Courtney’s earlobe.

And Courtney could be good, if Willam wanted her to. She whimpered quietly, pinching her nipple between her thumb and forefinger.

She wouldn’t make much noise, but Willam would kiss her dizzy at the slightest sound anyway, pull on her hair and nip at her lower lip and make it even harder not to moan. She’d dig her hands into Courtney’s hips roughly, kiss her neck and leave marks like before, only darker and spreading down to her chest this time.

And when Willam finally settled herself in between Courtney’s legs, she’d have to stuff Courtney’s mouth with three fingers just to keep her from crying out.

Courtney snaked a hand down her body, her thighs spreading instinctively, and dipped her fingers into the wetness pooling at her entrance, dragging it up to rub around her clit. A quiet groan escaped her lips, back arching.

She was so wet that it was embarrassing, and she thought Willam might mock her for it as she touched her, fingertips teasing over her hole as she called her princess or sweetheart and laughed quietly into her neck.

Courtney wanted to whine at the thought, and she could feel her face getting hot. Pressing two fingers inside herself easily, she struggled to catch her breath, squeezing her eyes shut.

With the way Willam ran her mouth regularly, Courtney knew that she’d be skilled with her tongue. She’d open her up, have her writhing and whimpering on the sheets, grabbing fistfuls of the Egyptian cotton in a hopeless attempt to maintain some kind of control.

Willam was a tease in conversation, and Courtney was sure that she’d be the same way in bed, difficult and stubborn. She forced herself to slow her movements down, sliding her fingers out of her clenching channel and back up to play with her clit instead. She’d never been particularly good at self-restraint, being used to getting what she wanted quickly, but the idea of Willam teasing her mercilessly with her tongue until she was on the edge of tears drove her wild with arousal.

Or maybe Willam would let her come, and then keep going. Hold Courtney’s jerking hips down with one hand and press three fingers into her with the other, spreading her open, tongue still hot on Courtney’s over-sensitive bundle of nerves.

Courtney rubbed herself more frantically now, every muscle in her body tensing up. She felt the familiar coiling in the space between her hips, and Willam’s voice echoed in her head.

“Come for me, kitten.”

Her head snapped back against the pillows, and she bit down on her fist as lights flashed behind her eyes, her orgasm rushing through her and leaving her a sticky, shuddering mess.

As her breathing started to even out, Courtney slid her hand back up her torso, sucking her fingers into her mouth lazily. She could already feel her eyelids getting heavy, comfortable warmth spreading through her body and a small smile on her lips.

She thought of Willam as she fell asleep, soft skin pressed close and cool fingers tracing her collarbone, light as air.

—–

Courtney woke up the next morning – bordering on the afternoon – with the distinct feeling that she’d made a terrible mistake. It took her brain a few moments to catch up with her body.

“Oh my god,” Courtney breathed.

It all came flooding back to her then, the realization hitting her like a ton of bricks.

She pulled the covers up over her head, ashamed of her lack of control. What had she been thinking? How could she have become so desperate that she’d lost herself in fantasies about Willam and gotten off on them?

Courtney wanted to curl into a ball and disappear. Clearly, she was more hopeless than she’d originally thought. She had no idea how she was going to face Willam now, with all the things she’d imagined her doing the night before.

She couldn’t stay in bed forever, though. Eventually, Courtney knew she’d have to put on a brave face and step back into reality, look Willam in the eyes knowing full well that she’d pictured her face buried between her thighs.

Courtney figured she might as well just get it over with. Slipping on a robe, she made her way down the hall, resolving to brew herself a cup of coffee and interact with Willam as little as was humanly possible.

Of course, the first thing Courtney heard as she walked downstairs was Willam’s music playing from the kitchen. Groaning, she rubbed her forehead, already dreading the impending confrontation.

“Jesus Christ, can you fucking turn that down?” Courtney exclaimed as she walked through the archway into the kitchen.

Willam, who was lounging on a stool at the bar, made a face before lowering the volume.

“Damn, what crawled up your ass last night?”

“N-Nothing!” Courtney caught herself starting to stammer, and shut her mouth, striding around Willam to the coffee maker.

“You sure about that, princess?”

Courtney clenched her hands into fists momentarily, before opening the cupboard with a lot more aggression than was probably necessary and grabbing a mug at random. What was that rule she’d been taught as a child? If she didn’t have anything nice to say, she might as well say nothing at all.

“Don’t break that,” Willam said. “It’s Tiffany, and I haven’t even used it yet.”

Taking a deep breath, Courtney put the mug back, and grabbed a different one.

“Ooh, she’s petty,” Willam commented.

Trying her best to forget that Willam was behind her, Courtney continued to go through the motions, appreciating how the coffee maker nearly drowned out the hip hop music.

“Can you make me some?” Willam asked loudly.

Courtney rolled her eyes, and continued to ignore Willam.

“Rude.”

There was a pause, and Courtney shut off the coffee maker.

“Why aren’t you talking back?” Willam wondered out loud. “Was it something I said? Something I did?”

Closing her eyes, Courtney huffed out a sigh.

“Are you still upset that I had to run out on you like that last night?” Courtney swore she could hear the smirk in Willam’s tone. “You know, we can pick up right where we left off. You just gotta take off that robe, and we’re in business.”

The idea of Willam cornering her against the sink, untying her robe and pushing it open, sent a flash of heat straight down to her core. Furious at herself, she spun around, glaring at Willam.

“You know this is borderline sexual harassment, right?” she demanded angrily, her voice coming out louder than she intended. “I told you to stop!”

Willam’s lips parted, and a quick range of emotions flashed over her face, from surprise to alarm to a confused expression that seemed slightly hurt.

“Court, I…” Willam just stared at her for a moment, before shaking her head. “I wouldn’t have… I thought you, um…”

“Well, you thought wrong,” Courtney snapped. She poured the coffee with shaky hands. “I’m not fucking interested.”

Picking up the mug, she walked back around the bar and towards the stairs, not wanting to stay in the kitchen any longer. Willam was still silent, and when Courtney glanced at her briefly on her way past, she could see the slight crease in Willam’s brow, the uncharacteristic softness of her eyes.

“I-I’m sorry,” Willam said quietly behind her.

Courtney’s breath caught, and she nearly stopped walking. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she continued, taking the steps as quickly as was possible with her coffee mug in hand.

As soon as she reached the upstairs landing, the guilt hit her like a train.

Willam had no idea of what Courtney had spent her night doing, and without that context, Courtney had practically gone from nearly giving in and kissing her again to claiming harassment overnight.

And the fact that Willam had dropped the seductive act and genuinely apologized, just because Courtney had overreacted and accused her of something she wasn’t even guilty of, made Courtney feel even worse.

Aware that the damage had already been done, she took a scalding sip of her drink and retreated to her room, her chest tight.

She’d already lost half of the day to sleeping in. At this point, she didn’t see much of a reason to do anything productive, and leaving the relative safety of her room seemed like an invitation for disaster.

Courtney did everything she could think of to distract herself. She rearranged the photos on her wall, and unpacked the remainder of her clothes. She sat in her chair and checked every social media platform she knew of, multiple times, and lay on her stomach on her bed watching Netflix, too preoccupied to pay even the slightest bit of attention.

She stripped her bed bare, just to remake it with fresh sheets. When the sun started to set, she changed out of her robe and into pajamas, in hopes that it might make her feel better, cleaner.

It didn’t. When Courtney stared in her mirror, she was still the same girl she’d been earlier, taking her anger at herself out on someone else. Only now, the guilt was weighing more heavily, contorting her face into something ugly.

Eventually, Courtney found herself perched on the edge of her bed, frustrated and fidgety. She knew she needed to apologize to Willam, but she was stubborn, and, if she were being totally honest, a little bit scared.

She’d been avoiding her closet, knowing full well it’d be the opposite of a distraction. It was practically bursting with reminders of Willam, from her shoes to her lingerie to the stupid fur coat Courtney still hadn’t been able to lose for longer than 6 hours.

With a sigh, Courtney walked over to it and slid open the doors. As she rifled through the hanging clothes, she could hear the front door open and slam shut again, the sounds of her father coming home late from work.

It was a Wednesday, which meant he’d be leaving again soon for his office’s weekly night out - their destination probably a strip club or something similar. His footsteps came up the stairs, assumedly heading towards his office.

Making a split second decision, Courtney grabbed the fur coat out of her closet and opened her bedroom door. Returning Willam’s clothes was a good excuse to go talk to her, and she figured she’d probably have a few minutes to apologize, with Dave nearby as a buffer if necessary.

She was padding down the hallway in bare feet towards the master bedroom when she heard her father’s raised voice spilling out from behind the partially open door, and she slowed to listen.

“What do you mean, you lost it?” Dave was saying.

“I didn’t lose it, I left it on the kitchen counter,” Willam said, her voice far quieter. She didn’t sound like herself, and it made Courtney anxious.

“Oh, you left it there, did you?”

“Yeah, I –”

“And did you leave your brain down there, too?” His voice turned cold, and Courtney’s stomach lurched. “No, wait, you’d have to have a brain to lose it.”

“Dave –”

“Do you have any idea how much that ring cost?”

Courtney took a small step closer, tilting her head and peering through the doorway to see her father standing at his full height and glaring. Willam wasn’t visible.

“Do you?” he demanded. “No? Well, let me give you a hint. That ring cost more than all your stupid shoes put together, and more than you’ve made in your entire life.”

He stepped forward, out of Courtney’s line of vision.

“And it’s definitely worth a hell of a lot more than you are.”

Flinching, Courtney listened helplessly, silently willing Willam to fight back, to say something, anything.

“I’ve given you everything you own, and you think you have the right to be careless with it?” He was practically yelling now, and the tone of his voice was familiar enough to trigger very unpleasant memories in Courtney’s mind. “You were whoring yourself out at a cheap bar when I met you, and you’d still fucking be there if I hadn’t taken a liking to you!”

Willam murmured something that Courtney couldn’t hear.

“Yeah, a bartender, sure,” Dave said spitefully. “I’m sure every bartender trades blowjobs for tips, huh?”

Courtney’s blood was boiling. She’d started to think that maybe her father had changed since she’d last seen him, but that obviously wasn’t the case: it seemed that he was worse than ever.

“I have to leave, the taxi’s nearly here,” Dave said, his voice still cold and venomous. “I don’t ever want to see that ring off your finger again, unless I take it off myself. And believe me, you don’t want that to happen.”

Her eyes widening, Courtney glanced around, trying to figure out where to hide when her father left the bedroom. There was an empty guest room behind her, the door slightly ajar, and she slipped inside.

Courtney waited with bated breath as Dave’s heavy, quick footsteps passed. She tentatively poked her head out into the hall, assuring that the coast was clear, before gingerly approaching the master bedroom.

Pausing at the doorway, she clutched the fur coat tighter to her chest. For a moment, she contemplated just walking away, figuring there was always the possibility that her presence would only make things worse. But then, she heard Willam take a shaky breath, and she bit the bullet and rapped on the doorframe lightly instead.

“What is it?” Willam sounded younger than Courtney had ever heard her, and she pushed open the door, stepping inside hesitantly.

Willam wasn’t looking at her. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped loosely around herself, staring almost vacantly into space. The strap of the black negligee she was wearing was sliding off her shoulder, and despite her heavy makeup, she looked so small that Courtney thought she could probably pick her up and hold her like a child.

Walking over to her slowly, Courtney set the coat down beside her. After a moment, she hopped up on the high bed as well, the fur forming a divider between them.

“You shouldn’t let him talk to you like that,” she said finally, looking down at her hands.

“Why not?” For once, there was no edge to Willam’s voice, no glint in her eyes. “He’s right.”

“He’s not, though,” Courtney replied.

Willam let out a short, humorless laugh.

“And how do you know that?” she asked rhetorically.

“I just do. You deserve better.”

“Oh, get off your high horse,” Willam said. “I know exactly what you think of me, Court, and it’s not all that much better than what your father thinks of me.”

“Willam, I…”

“It’s fine,” Willam said, shaking her head slightly. “I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t be,” Courtney said, reaching for Willam instinctively and then thinking better of it, her hand dropping to rest on the fur coat between them. “You’re a human being, Will. Not a possession, or a punching bag, or a blow-up sex doll, or whatever else he’s trying to turn you into.”

“He had a bad day,” Willam said, her voice small.

“Don’t make excuses for him,” Courtney objected. “He’s been having bad days and taking out his anger on the woman in his bedroom for as long as I’ve been alive.”

Willam looked at her for the first time, a hint of curiosity on her face.

“I didn’t mean to do it, too, though,” Courtney added.

“Didn’t mean to do what?”

“What I said earlier, in the kitchen,” Courtney said, taking her time. “I didn’t mean it, but I think I did exactly what he does.”

Willam stared at her for a moment, her expression unreadable, before looking down at her feet.

“That’s why I’m here, actually,” Courtney continued. “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?”

“For snapping at you.” Courtney closed her eyes momentarily. “For playing the victim, and making you think you’d read all the signs wrong, when you didn’t.”

“Oh,” Willam said. When Courtney glanced over at her, the corners of her eyes were crinkled slightly, the beginnings of a small smile in her upper lip.

“I don’t know you that well,” Courtney said. “And I’m not even sure that I like you very much.”

The smile widened, and Willam looked over at her again.

“But I do know that you’re smart,” Courtney said seriously. “And independent. And charming, when you want to be.”

Willam nodded slightly, crossing her legs at the ankles and swinging her feet a little.

“And you’re definitely worth more than a fucking shiny rock,” Courtney finished, biting out the last words. “No matter how big and fancy looking it is.”

Lifting her hand from her lap, Willam rested it on top of Courtney’s where it lay on the coat. Courtney nearly jumped, her gaze darting up to meet Willam’s. The spark that had been missing from Willam’s eyes was returning, her smile soft and the farthest thing from dangerous.

After a long moment, they pulled their hands away simultaneously, noticing the palpable shift in the mood. Willam cleared her throat.

“I should probably go get that dumb rock, before I forget,” Willam said.

“And I should probably leave your bedroom,” Courtney added, rubbing the back of her neck.

Sliding off the bed, Willam got to her feet, tugging down the hem of her negligee. Courtney hopped down as well, and before she could leave, Willam was pressing the fur coat into her arms.

“Um, goodnight,” Courtney said, awkwardly hugging the coat to her chest and heading for the door.

“Goodnight, Courtney.”

It wasn’t until Courtney had returned to her bedroom that she remembered the coat wasn’t hers, and that the whole reason she’d gone to visit Willam in the first place was to take it back. The other woman had managed to get it into Courtney’s room again, without even having to do the work herself.

She hung it back up in her closet with a slightly exasperated smile on her face, discovering that she didn’t really mind at all.

#willam belli #courtney act #witney #cisgirl au #smut #angst #enemies to lovers #something borrowed #miss bianca #jazz #rpdr fanfiction #lesbian au

81 notes · View notes