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kaibacorpintern · 4 years

Note

For the prompt thing: kaiba + yuugi + professionalism!

this was fun!! thanks to @dxmichelle for the retail stories. kaiba as a retail worker is like me when I was a retail worker because when i worked at a barnes and noble, i spent a LOT of time perfectly squaring the books. anyway all the kaibacorp adventure park castmembers get some fat fucking pay raise/benefit boosts after this

***

This was all Jounouchi’s fucking fault and Seto was never agreeing to any stupid fucking bets again. When did he become a good duelist, instead of just a lucky one? And he knew it, too, announcing his plans to win the Domino City Invitational with the kind of brash, easy confidence that was a front for nothing, a Roman wall around nothing, with nothing he needed to defend on the other side. As hard to read as a coloring book. Asshole.

“The gods have struck men down for less hubris than this,” Seto snapped, over a game of poker at Yuugi’s weekly game night. Mokuba had badgered him into attending after their return from the yearly strategic planning retreat with the board. You need to be around normal people! No more sharks in people suits!

“So what? You don’t believe in higher powers, Rich Boy.”

“In my experience, a god and a higher power are two separate things."

“Oh, okay, Neeshee. Maybe you don’t believe in me, but you do believe in games,” Jounouchi said.

“Devastating insight,” Seto said. “And it’s Nietzsche.”

“Bless you. Don't be rude and sneeze into a tissue next time. Let’s make a bet. When I win the Invitational, you… pick up all my shifts at the Kame Game Shop for a week. I take home all the paychecks, but you do all the work. You know, bog-standard capitalism.”

Seto rolled his eyes. “When you lose, you give the jet a good wash and wax. Then you throw your deck and your Duel Disk into the river, and never duel again.”

“Deal. And I tell you what, Kaiba. One day we’re gonna meet across the field, and you’re going to lose, but it won’t even bother you, because you had just so much fun,” Jounouchi said, extending his hand across the table, with a savage grin.

“Don’t fucking threaten me,” Seto said, shaking his hand.

Asshole! Jounouchi stomped the competition with an ease Seto hadn’t seen since he was fourteen and unceremoniously sacking Inspector Haga at the Pan Pacific Final.

At least Yuugi gave him his own nametag, instead of making him wear Jounouchi’s: a plastic, turtle-shaped badge with a white space for his name. There was a line below it that said MY FAVORITE GAME IS... chess, Seto wrote in moodily, with the marker. Then he affixed it to his dark-green apron, neatly and precisely, just over his heart.

Yuugi nudged the curtain into the stock room aside, wearing a matching apron and smiling like he was trying very hard not to laugh.

“Ready to clock in - oh, no. This is the Kame Game Shop,” he said, reaching up to fix Seto’s name tag, tweaking it to sit slightly at an angle. “Perfect right angles are for squares.”

“A KaibaCorp Adventure Park castmember wouldn’t be caught dead with their nametag this sloppy,” Seto snapped.

“It’s not sloppy. It’s jaunty and playful,” Yuugi corrected. “Now, let’s review. You’re an engineering prodigy, so I’m sure you can handle the register. What do we do when a customer walks in?”

Seto sighed, hands bracing on his hips as his eyes rolled towards the ceiling. That asshole picked up five full days of double shifts.

“Welcome them when they walk in,” he said, as Yuugi nodded along. “Ask if they need any help. If they’re just browsing, leave them alone. Provide recommendations if they ask.”

“And?” Yuugi prompted, raising his eyebrows.

“Wrap and bag their purchases and thank them for wasting my fucking time.”

Yuugi reached up, pressing the tips of his index fingers into Seto’s cheeks. “No! Smile!”

Seto bared his teeth.

“Can’t believe people call you a bad sport,” Yuugi said. “Maybe just smize instead. Go! Clock in! Upsell your own Duel Disk!”

Seto let out a final dramatic huff, took the clipboard off its hook on the wall, and added his billion-dollar contract signature to the timesheet, below several rows of Jounouchi’s scrawl.

***

After four hours, Seto took his lunch break, an all-too-brief thirty minutes in the alley behind the Game Shop, leaning back with one foot propped against the wall, answering emails on his phone with all the speed and fury his thumbs could muster. It was high summer. Vines spilled over the wall on the other side of the alleyway, limp and vibrating with heat. Even the shade under the wall was warm.

The side door opened. He turned his head, preparing a choice little bon mot for Yuugi, and paused, his breath hitching in his chest with a wild regret, birdlike, startled suddenly out of hiding.

He stared at Sugoroku, privately cursing Jounouchi for the nth time for making the fucking bet, winning the fucking Invitational, and putting him here in this fucking alleyway, staring at Sugoroku. It was too late to go back inside. Sugoroku stared back, hoary-haired, stooped under the weight of his years. Even wizened, with skin like old, pale leather, the family resemblances were clear: the same big, warm eyes, the same bright smile, no less weakened for age.

He shuffled out the door, dragging a small garbage bag of recycling beside him.

“Open that up and drop this in, will you please? My back’s not what it used to be.”

“Yes,” Seto said, rapidly stooping to take the bag. Should he add sir? Yes, sir? He hadn’t said 'sir' to anyone in ten years. What was he supposed to say? Sorry. I was not myself. I was myself, but the worst version. It was the beta release of me and we have removed the bugs (the murder bugs) in advance of stable release. All remaining bugs are acceptable. We have added accurate legal and medical disclaimers to all our SolidVision and Virtual World products about how the sensory intensity of KaibaCorp proprietary holographic technology may exacerbate existing heart conditions. I am taking good care of her and I love her and she loves me. Who? Her. The dragon.

He dropped the bag into the recycling bin several steps away and turned around to face Sugoroku, summoning his resolve with an inhale, exhale, firm and deep.

“How’s your first day?” Sugoroku said.

“My company isn’t going down in flames without me,” Seto said. “Color me surprised.”

“How’s your first day here?”

“Enthralling. The adrenaline high of consumer retail is really just something else - ”

“Speak up, I can’t hear you over all that racket you’re making,” Sugoroku said. Seto paused, bewildered, mouth half-open - and shut it, color flaring across his face.

“Uh - fine,” he muttered. “It’s fine. I helped an eight-year-old pick out a board game.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. She came in with all the allowance she’d saved up and she wanted something she could play with her sister. I sold her on mancala."

"That's a classic. Not a board game, but a classic. And hard to sell to children."

Seto scoffed. "I hate the crap they pass off as board games these days, with all the… fiddly, little plastic pieces and the arcane rules. Children get drawn in by the colors, but they don't have patience for the rules, so it ends up forgotten at the bottom of a bookshelf somewhere with half the pieces sucked up in the vacuum cleaner. Mancala is simple. You can play it with a patch of dirt and a handful of gravel. But if you want to win, you need to play with skill and wit. It's timeless. It’s elegant."

"Well, you've sold me. I haven’t played mancala in years. Shall we play tomorrow? During your lunch break?"

Seto said nothing, resisting the urge to bite his lip, a bad habit and a sign of nervousness.

“Yuugi speaks very highly of you, you know,” Sugoroku said. “I’d love to know why.”

He chuckled and shuffled back inside, leaving Seto fuming with an odd, stomach-clenching embarrassment.

He checked his phone. Three more minutes left of his lunch break, and his feet were aching. He should’ve worn different shoes, not the Chelsea boots. Tomorrow. Mancala? Damn Jounouchi to hell. Better shoes.

***

“Excuse me,” the woman said. “Do you have Legendary Heroes II?”

Seto abandoned his task of aligning board game boxes at perfect right angles. Fuck jaunty and playful.

“No. That’s not out until December,” he said. The production issues on Legendary Heroes II were a fucking nightmare, and the thought of making his game developers crunch - making them miserable, overworked, and more likely to quit and get snapped up by Schroeder Corp - gave him hives. So he’d pushed release back to December, allowing the small hit to his stock under the rationale that the holiday retail season would make up for it. But she didn’t need to know that.

“But - it’s my son’s birthday next Saturday, and Legendary Heroes is his favorite game,” she said, hands clenching loosely by her stomach, a gesture of pleading.

“I’m delighted to hear it. It does not change the fact that the game literally does not exist,” Seto said.

“Can you just check in the back? He’s been asking about this for months now,” she said, and Seto clicked his teeth, face slipping into a snarl - from the corner of his eye, he saw Yuugi, watching him.

Smile, he mouthed, and pressed his fingers into his own cheeks, putting on a manic, plastic grin.

“Of course. I’ll be right back,” Seto said, smiling, and stormed away. As expected, he did not find Legendary Heroes II in the stock room. He dawdled, checking his email, firing off a few replies, advising Mokuba on the right way to handle the zesty temperament of their general counsel - this’ll be fun, Mokuba said, I get to run KaibaCorp without you, like, dying or something - WHAT? - and stashed his phone back into his apron pocket.

“My apologies,” he said, returning to the woman. “We don’t have it in stock. If you’d like to pre-order it, it’ll be available just in time for Christmas. Just log on to the KaibaCorp website and enter the Kame Game Shop as your pick-up location. If you’re still looking for a birthday gift, I strongly suggest the new Duel Disk. The design is much better for children than the old one - lighter and more streamlined, with less intense haptics. If he already has a Duel Disk, he can bring that in for a trade-in.”

“Oh, perfect!” she said. “We'll do that. Thank you. You’ve been so helpful.”

“You’re welcome. Have a fantastic day,” Seto said, still smiling. He watched her leave and returned to his board game boxes, feeling hideously, fabulously smug. A customer walked in, carrying a bare Duel Disk under his arm, and Seto shot him a cheerful welcome. The man ignored him, heading straight to Yuugi at the counter.

***

Yuugi swallowed, squared his shoulders, and lifted his chin.

"I'm sorry. We cannot accept a Duel Disk return without a box or a receipt," he said. Clearly stolen.

"But I bought it here two weeks ago. And the stupid piece of shit is defective," the man said. "I want my money back!"

Loud enough that Seto, re-stocking towards the front of the store, turned towards them, with open curiosity.

"What's the nature of the defect?" Yuugi said.

"It just doesn't fucking work. I don't know what else to tell you," the guy said. "Are you gonna do the return or not?!"

His least favorite type of customer: smashing reason apart with the baseball bat of belligerence. Yuugi steeled himself for the inevitable slew of insults.

"Sir. I can't do the return without a receipt - "

A hand came down on his shoulder, pulling him with polite insistence out of the way. Seto, with a canny, feline smile, the kind that foretold bloodshed on the dueling field.

"Oh no, Yuugi," he said. "Let me handle this."

#fanfiction #norealgoodbyes

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rainbowserenity · 5 years

Text

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @comeonlight~ I hope it’s as awesome as you <3333 thank you for being so great and such a light in my life ily so here is some OTP <333

Hope’s job had only one major rule:

Do not approach talk to the talent. Ever. Under any circumstances.

That was just fine with him. He’d been at this gig long enough to realize that most of the ‘talent’ that came through needed personality lessons. One model had actually refused to look at anyone’s face, which had dragged on the shoot for much longer than really needed.

Then again, it wasn’t like he’d get much chance to talk to the ‘talent’ even if he’d wanted to. Hope was a mere lighting assistant, which was just a fancy title for someone who held up lights and flicked some switches according to someone’s ‘vision.’ It was fairly boring most of the time. The only reason he was still working the job was because it actually paid far better than most places in town – and his boss was actually pretty good about working around his school schedule.

Plus, he had to admit, it was pretty interesting to see celebrities up close, even if he didn’t really follow much of pop culture at all. It wasn’t like he could tell people or talk about it outside of work, but he figured that once he’d finally gotten his degree, it’d be an interesting tidbit of information that he’d been within twenty feet of some supermodels.

Because of the general hush-hush environment concerning the celebrities – he’d had to sign a non-disclosure agreement on more than one occasion – they didn’t really get new staff all too often. Sometimes staff from other locations would come to theirs and he knew most of them.

Therefore, it was a complete surprise when he showed up to work early one morning and saw a stunning rose-haired woman pouring coffee.

She was dressed in a simple pair of leggings and an oversized shirt – usually the uniform of choice for makeup artists. A new one, maybe? Or an apprentice?

Whoever she was, Hope knew he was embarrassing himself by just staring. There was something very vaguely familiar about her, but that wasn’t why he couldn’t look away. It wasn’t even her incredible beauty either, although that didn’t hurt.

There was just something about her that drew him in. He’d never felt anything like it. People at school often told him that he had charisma, but that wasn’t quite the vibe he got from this woman.

No, he just felt that somehow, someway, they were meant to be standing here in this exact moment.

In the next instant, Hope realized how ridiculous he sounded in his own mind. He shook his head and walked towards the coffee. Who cared he usually drank tea in the mornings? Everyone needed a change now and then.

The woman dumped some sugar into her coffee, then glanced around before putting in some more. He smiled before he could stop himself and reached for the coffee pot.

She whipped her head around at the gesture, like she’d just noticed someone was right behind her. At the sight of him, her guarded expression visibly relaxed and she nodded. “Sugar?”

The word sounded so foreign that Hope momentarily froze, almost overflowing his coffee in the process. As it was, he filled it right to the top of his cup before fumbling with the pot and setting it down. “Uh, um – apparently not.”

Piercing blue eyes flicked towards his nearly-overflowing cup. She smirked. “And it’s still so early. Hard to imagine that we still have the whole day to go.”

Hope relaxed slightly. So she was a staff member. “Yeah, but that’s what the coffee’s for, I guess.”

“Tell me about it. I don’t know how I’m upright half the time without it.”

“Oh, yeah.” He tried to pretend that he totally drank coffee on a regular basis, yep. He totally wasn’t the only college student in existence who actually got a decent amount of sleep every night. “Kind of amazed I made it here without it.”

She eyeballed him again before another smirked formed on her lips. It was like she could see right through him, somehow. But that was completely ridiculous. “I know what you mean.”

They both chuckled in that sort of awkward way that Hope had only experienced a handful of times – when you knew there was somewhere else you had to be, but you didn’t want to leave the company of the other person and were trying to figure out if you could find a way to see them again.

At least that was easily done. “So, uh, are you here from one of the other studios?”

For some reason, the question caused her to grow quiet. She took a step back and stared – really stared at him, her head slightly tilted to one side. A thousand emotions flickered in those eyes of hers – surprise, amazement, appreciation, intrigue.

Before either of them could say anything, a woman with wild black hair he’d never seen before came out of the makeup studio and spotted the two of them. “Oi!” She tapped her wrist where a watch would’ve been if people wore them anymore. “Coffee break’s over! Get your ass over here!”

The rose-haired woman rolled her eyes in a spectacular fashion. “Sorry. Duty calls.” She turned away and took a sip of her coffee, but then glanced back over at Hope. “I’ll...see you later, I’m sure. Maybe we could talk more.”

“Oh. Uh.” Hope blinked a couple of times, wondering if there was anything that could have possibly warranted further conversation. Was coffee really that fascinating?

Apparently so, because he nodded a second later. “Yes. Absolutely.”

She quirked a bit of a smile before heading into the makeup studio, shaking her head at something the black-haired woman was saying. Maybe his hunch was right and she was a makeup artist. They tended to stick around during shoots in case there were any touch-ups needed or a new look.

Would he really see her later?

Why did he want to so badly?

Hope thought about this the whole time he slugged down his coffee. He thought about it as the rest of the staff arrived and his job got started. It distracted him so much that he couldn’t even concentrate on the whispers of who they were all supposed to be working with today.

“She’s already here?!” one of the photographers shrieked. “Her call time was at nine!”

“Well, you’ve heard the other studios,” one of the wardrobe people said. “She’s, like, notoriously punctual.”

“Punctual is one thing – being nearly an hour early is a whole different level!” the photographer continued, sounding dramatic. But this was typical for him, so Hope didn’t pay it any mind.

Instead, his mind continued to wander – and he kept his eyes peeled.

One of the worst parts of this job was the long, long stretches of time where everyone just needed to hurry up and wait. They had to get everything ready as quickly as possible, but then it was just a matter of sitting around and waiting for everyone’s jobs to finally finish. Hair and makeup, wardrobe, set design...not to mention that some of the celebrities that came through were ridiculously demanding and wouldn’t do anything until those demands had been met. He still had nightmares about the one model-who-shall-not-be-named that had put everyone behind schedule for three hours because she hadn’t had any vegan cannolis in her room.

And she hadn’t even eaten them.

Today though, things seemed to be moving at a faster pace than usual. Hope gladly threw himself into his work, which for now, involved standing on a step-stool and rearranging one of the lights to his boss’s specifications. Everyone was buzzing around with an energy he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Hope glanced at the other lighting assistant. “Hey, Noel.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you know who the talent’s supposed to be today?”

Noel paused and glanced at him, looking both bewildered and amused. “What, were you not paying attention earlier?”

“I guess not.”

“Man, even I know about her.” Noel shared the same interest in celebrity culture as Hope did – that was, basically none – so this was especially intriguing. “She’s all over the place lately – I think she was on the cover of, like, six different magazines in the past month. She’s the face of a bunch of different charities and stuff, too. Yeul loves her work,” he added, referencing his girlfriend.

“Oh.” Hope tried to imagine the newsstands. Something itched in the back of mind. “Who is - ”

“All right everyone, look alive!” The black-haired woman suddenly sauntered out and clapped her hands. “You’re lookin’ at the new face of Louis Vuitton right here, so you’d damn well better be makin’ her look good!”

“Shut up Fang,” a familiar voice muttered.

Very familiar.

He nearly dropped the light when out came the rose-haired woman, dressed in an extremely fancy outfit with a sheer black top with frilly designs on the back.

She wasn’t a makeup artist.

Not at all.

“Lightning Farron!” The photographer walked up and shook her head. “What an honor it is to have you here today!”

Of course, he said that to everybody, but it actually sounded sincere this time. And why wouldn’t it?

Hope couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. Lightning Farron! The Lightning Farron!

Of course he knew of her – the woman who had appeared in magazines seemingly from nowhere, who was famous for being discovered in a kickboxing class. Earlier in the year, she’d worn a holster on her evening gown while modeling on the runway to bring awareness for gun control. She used her fame to start numerous charities and was, as he’d heard, notoriously punctual.

Lightning Farron, quite possibly one of the most famous models in the world.

That’s who he’d talked to.

That’s who he’d felt an instant connection with.

Oh, god. He was done for. There was no possible way anything could ever come from this.

But a few minutes later, when Lightning was directed into her first test shot, she glanced up and met his eyes, clearing recognizing him. Her lips, lined in a neutral expression, curled up ever-so-slightly at the corners.

“There!” the photographer cried. “That smize! Just like that!”

Somehow, Hope managed not to drop any of the lights or do anything stupid. Instead, he simply smiled back.

After all, he wasn’t supposed to interact with the talent.

But there were no rules if the talent came to him...

#hopelight #hoperai #hopurai #hopelight fic #comeonlight #a;lskdjfliwjeflwiejf #I WROTE THIS AT LIKE 2AM #BECAUSE I FORGOT WHAT DAY IT WAS LOL #PLZ BE GENTLE #someday i'll write a proper model AU #oh well i hope you like this moon #i just had my LV lightning posters for inspiration #shining down on me like the beauty face she is #~swoons #anyway HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN #<333333333333

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bapyess1r · 5 years

Text

Head Over Heels

01. Make A Mess

Joe’s POV

“Fucksake, man…” I mumbled as she walked arm in arm with her friends into the pub. She was a bit on the short side, cute little round face, curvy figure, cocoa skin, and sad honey colored eyes. Her shapely brows furrowed in the middle a bit as she tried her best to look happy. But she won’t fool me. I could tell. She broke down into tears soon as she got to the bar and I thought to meself maybe it’d be best to wait to make her acquaintance. I turned to my friend Mark, searching for some kinda approval, and he just shook his head as he went to take a sip of his brew. “Aw but-” I groaned.

“Don’t do it to yourself, man.” He said with a sarcastic smile.

“You don’t think a bird like that might go for me?”

“I don’t think ANY bird like that would go for you.” He replied just as calmly as before, adding a slight chuckle to the end.

“Now that’s just downright rude, mate!” I chuckled, slapping the table. I know I wasn’t much to look at but I wasn’t that bad. I mean my teeth were clean, I don’t stink, and I dress pretty ok I think…. And I was almost positive that I wasn’t that much older than her either… I hoped. “She looks a bit upset. Maybe I’ll wait a while to speak to her.”

“Your luck, she’s just broken up with her mans.” Mark added before eating a piece of the chicken tenders between us. Just as I looked up, one of her friends branched off.

“I know exactly what will make you feel better!” the guy of the group said, making his way towards the jukebox hanging on the wall in the corner. He was a young Asian fella, broad shouldered, blue hair styled almost like a Disney prince, small eyes, wide cheeky smile. The closer he got to passing my table, the taller he seemed to get. ‘Christ…’ I thought as he stood in front of the colorfully lit jukebox, digging his hands in his pockets for change. I looked back and forth between him and the girl. She too seem eager to know what he was going to do. Eventually, he selected a song and turned around to gesture towards her. Head Over Heels began to play and I rolled my eyes as I turned to Mark.

“Tears for fucking Fears? I mean really…” I said quite sourly as I took a sip of my pint, tapping my foot, watching the girl walk towards him. And the girls she came with pushed her towards him. The boy smiled at her kindly as he pulled her into his arms and began swaying to and fro. They broke apart after a while and began dancing all goofy like. I chuckled at them a little as she bounced her shoulders to the rhythm. She was a right silly one, that girl. I watched her dance about, her voluminous curls move around her, teasing with a raunchy dance now and then. Something about her was interesting and I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. Just then she draped her black leather jacket off her shoulders, exposing her back, arms, and collarbone, swinging her hips and dropping her body slowly as she got into the song. I could feel my jaw drop. The twinkling of the fairy lights hanging in the windows almost sparkled around her. And at that moment, I wanted her to be in me life, making a mess everywhere if she wanted to.

After a few songs of her and her friends dancing, she snuck away and pulled a pack of smokes before ordering a drink at the bar. I stood up quickly, startling Mark for a moment as I grabbed a handful of his shirt to catch his attention abruptly. “Mate…” I said pointing to her as she took her newly ordered drink outside to the patio for a smoke. “That’s my que!” With that, I rounded my table to head outside.

“Good luck to ya, bruv.” He said raising a glass.

“Cheers!” I replied slickly as my hands searched for my lighter.

“Hopefully it doesn’t go arseways-”

“Could ya just be positive, mate?! Seriously!” I joked as I walked away, leaving Mark to laugh in his drink for a while.

I pushed through the crowds of people and took a deep breath before opening the front door. I pulled out my pack and shoved a fag between my lips, looking over the rim of my red sunglasses. When I spotted her, I immediately went over to her. She stood in silence, leaning over the wooden railing as she swirled her drink around, her cigarette burning steadily As if she hadn’t bothered to take a drag. “Ah, shite! Well ain’t that sum’n!” I exclaimed as dramatically as possible, patting my chest down all the way to the pockets of my jeans. She glanced at me from the corner of her eyes with a faintly bewildered smirk but turned her head to ignore me. “I can’t seem to find me lighter! Isn’t that fuckin….” I began to lose a bit of confidence as I saw she wasn’t really giving me the time of day and was slowly losing interest. ‘Guess I’ve gotta be more aggro...’ With a shy tap on the shoulder, my heart about burst into flames when she looked at me with those big baby browns. “Aha…. e-excuse me… you wouldn’t happen to have a lighter, would ya?” I asked her lowly as she turned around with a thin brow raised.

“Depends…” she smirked, finally taking a drag and ashing the long burned tip in no particular place.

Samira’s POV

I turned my head at the sound of a deep raspy voice and a gentle tap on my shoulder, only to be met with a large pair of deep green eyes peeking behind red lensed glasses. Couldn’t necessarily see it, but I could feel my cheeks burning. He was tall and covered in tattoos. He might’ve had a few years on me but he wasn’t unattractive in the least. He had a roughness about him… “Aha…. e-excuse me… you wouldn’t happen to have a lighter, would ya?” He asked in a shy voice, much to the contrast of his loudness a few seconds ago. I took a puff of my cigarette that long waited to be smoked and turned around with what was supposed to have been a friendly smile but I was too depressed to bring myself to a standard ear to ear.

“Depends…” I said shortly.

“On what?” He asked with a mischievous smile.

“Whether I’ll get my lighter back or not.” I said with a raised brow. He let out a soft chuckle before taking off his glasses and hanging them on the collar of his thin graphic tee. He took a few steps back and placed a rather large hand on his chest.

“Hand on the Bible, fucking cherry on top and all that!” He nodded. I burst into a nervous giggle. He was funny! I liked that… with that, I dug into my jacket pocket and tossed him my newly bought Bob Marley bic. “Well that’s nice, innit? Did you have to specially order that or…?” He asked before lighting the cigarette between his soft thin lips.

“No, I got it from the corner store just there.” I replied plainly, sipping on my whiskey. He pulled the cigarette out in an overdramatized shock face.

“Korner Mart?! Well shit, man… I might go grab one for meself!” He said. I just smirked.

“Should’ve checked for your lighter before you left!” I smirked simply before looking out at the rocky driveway lit to the end by bulbous string lights and a few tiki torches as cars arrived and departed simultaneously in the night. “Samira Marshall…” I said randomly.

“I’m Joseph…. G-Gilgun. But erm… call me Joe.” He laughed nervously. He almost seemed ashamed that he was nervous. He scratched the back of his head and hummed a bit like he was looking for something to say until he gave a bright grin. “So you’re not from around here, Samira. I can tell that by your accent.” He said proudly, leaning against the railing next to me. I chuckled lightly.

“And what else can you tell about me?” I asked, sipping my whiskey gingerly. Oh, how he loved to play around! He slapped the rails and rested himself on one elbow to give me a once over.

“Let’s see here…. obviously you’re from the states-” He began.

“What gave me away? It’s the Levi’s, huh?” I joked, not breaking eye contact as I tossed my cigarette butt in the nearby bushes before reaching for another. He narrowed his eyes for a moment and placed a warm hand on top of mine. I was confused until he asked me….

“Would you rather smoke a doobie or two instead?” He asked me. My eyes lit up and he instantly he knew. He smiled extra big as he leaned in and pulled a pre rolled joint from his ear and held it between us. “Follow me. I know a spot right up on the roof.” He offered his arm and gave me a cheeky smile. I narrowed my eyes and analyzed him a moment. I didn’t get bad vibes and nothing seemed weird… “What’s all the smizing for, ay?”

“Just makin’ sure you’re not a serial killer or a sex trafficker or something….” I answered honestly.

“That hurts, lass!” He chortled, tucking the joint behind his ear.

“Did it? Did it really?” I chuckled. I began playing with my curls but immediately stopped. He was charming in a funny kinda way but I wasn’t ready to open myself to a relationship yet…

“So hows about it?” He asked. I looked at him quietly and took the last of my drink to the head.

“Fuck it. Why not?!” I exclaimed, taking his arm and following him back into the pub. He beamed.

“Atta girl! We can get us some more drinks while we’re at it!” He added as he grabbed the door. “After you, m’lady.” He said, to which I definitely laughed. Not because he was being funny but because I had never had someone be gentlemanly to me up until then. It would take some time but I definitely wanted to know him more…

Author’s Note:

So this is chapter 1 and it’s a bit rough but I think it will pick up from here 🖤

#joe gilgun fanfic #joe gilgun #joseph gilgun #proinsias cassidy #rudy wade

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